Showing posts with label adult themes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adult themes. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

πŸ’»Blogger ReviewπŸ’»: Under His Rule by Davidson King




Summary:

In the Spotlight
Under his rule, nobody is safe

Prince Julian Davaros is heir to the throne of the Lamdera Islands. He’s gorgeous, rich, famous… and just happens to be a serial killer. His family and bodyguard know his murderous proclivities, but to everyone else, he’s simply the heir apparent, loved by many. In reality, Julian can’t stand most people, he doesn’t have relationships, and if he’s alone with you it usually means you’re his next victim. However, once Wynn Carter catches his attention in a small cafΓ©, Julian’s new obsession isn’t one he wants to kill but instead wants to own.

Wynn Carter has always wanted to visit the Lamdera Islands, and he’s using his thirtieth birthday as the perfect excuse. His plan is to soak up some sun, drink in the culture, and make memories with his friends. His agenda didn’t include catching the eye of the future king. Now Wynn finds himself swept up in a sort of fairytale of lavish dinners, intimate nights, and even some media attention. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve the prince’s interest, but he’s certainly not upset about it.

Unfortunately, secrets don’t stay hidden no matter how powerful you are, and when someone decides to push Julian out of the shadows by hurting the one person he wants more than anything, the quiet monster that lies within him bursts free. Julian’s and Wynn’s lives erupt into chaos, and Wynn finally discovers who Julian truly is. If he can’t live with it, the prince needs to decide whether to surrender everything… or get rid of his obsession.

Under His Rule is part of the multi-author series, In the Spotlight. 14 authors bring you 14 original stories of killers in the public eye. Where everyone is dying to be in the spotlight. Every book can be read as a standalone.



I'm going to start right out of the gate by saying this is not a typical story topic I generally seek out, I don't shy away from it, just not something I go looking for. Don't get me wrong, I've read many a book where the actions of the MC can be labeled ambiguous but killing to "scratch a mental itch"? Not what I usually seek out(truth be told, "scratch a mental itch" is just the simplest way to say it, there's more going on here than that). But Under His Rule is a Davidson King tale and frankly, IMO no one does dark mayhem better, so in I went. 

So freakin' glad I did!  Perhaps it's not going to change my pattern of looking for it, but boy did it entertain, and I can't ask for more.

I won't spoil anything so details will be minimal but I do have to say, at one point I really expected a certain familial relationship to go in a different direction but I was wrong and I think the story is better for my wrongnessπŸ˜‰.  The author would have done it well had my directional thought been right but this was better and didn't "weigh it down with added dramatic baggage".

As I started with, Prince Julian's predilections are not my goto choices but I can certainly sympathize with some of his thought patterns.  How can you not love Wynn?  After all, he only wants a memorable vacation with his friends.  Well he certainly got it, not how he probably envisioned it but definitely memorable, to say the least. Together, they complement each other, even if Wynn is reluctant and the prince has a bit(to put it mildlyπŸ˜‰) more control over it all.  

Due to the prince's way of life(again to put it mildlyπŸ˜‰), Under His Rule may not be for everyone but if you like dark mayhem with your chemistry and romance, you won't be disappointed.  For those like me, who don't usually go there, this is a perfect way to let go of some of that internal frustration and aggression that is probably building up in most of us in today's current climate. I guess you could say I found Under His Rule to be theraputicπŸ˜‰.

I want to add a little note about the mention of flumazenil. I could be wrong but I don't recall ever seeing that drug mentioned in a book I've read before and I'm pretty sure I would because it was a drug that went on my mother's allergy list. Luckily, she was inpatient at the time when the docs used it to help bring her out of a procedure but by the time she got back to her room she had a seizure, with no other cause they could determine, they decided it must have been the flumazenil. Whether she was actually allergic to it or not they thought it best to put it on her list, better to be safe than sorry. Anyway, I want to thank the author for the use of it, not for any personal connection I have but because by not using more widely known drugs, it is just another example of the research Davidson King puts into her work. It's that "extra mile" that really makes her work stand out to this reader.

RATING:






CHAPTER ONE
Wynn
Glass shattered everywhere—like, everywhere. I stood frozen in place in my best friend’s living room as I watched little shards of crystal skitter across the hardwood floor and disappear under furniture.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Seth gently took me by the arm and guided me over to his sofa. “Sit. No more helping.”

“I’m so sorry. I was walking slowly; I think there’s a divot in the wood.”

He blinked slowly. “Right, a divot.”

I shrugged and relaxed into the soft cushions. “I can clean up the mess if you’d like.”

He held up both hands, palms up. “Please don’t. I’m not sure I can afford for you to break anything else.”

“Har har, so funny. I’m not that bad.”

Seth’s brows shot up to his hairline. “Really?” He started counting off. “Three frames, two mugs, the glass on my microwave, and a vase.” He pointed to the floor where the glass had shattered. “That’s just in the last three hours of you trying to help me move.”

I wanted to refute his claim but as I thought about it, I realized he was right. What I wasn’t going to do was agree—I’d sort of agree. “Whatever.” There, that worked.

He rolled his eyes and moved into the kitchen. He returned with a broom and dustpan. “Maybe you can order us something to eat, from the couch.”

“You want me to stay right here and not move?”

“Preferably.” He chuckled.

“I need to leave eventually. Are you going to carry me out of here?”

“If I have to.” He swept up the mess while I scrolled food apps for something to order. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Six in the stupid morning,” I answered as I decided on pizza.

“Gross.” He snorted. “Sorry I can’t come on your birthday trip.”

I waved him off. “Hush, no big. With you moving in and starting a new job, there was no way it was going to happen. But it’s fine, you can make it up to me once I return.”

“Oh, how nice of me.”

I beamed. “Besides, I won’t be alone. Mark and Hannah are coming with me. And anyway, my real birthday was last week, and you were there for that.”

He nodded and brought everything back to the kitchen to toss. “True, but still. I’m jealous, though. I mean, wow, the Lamdera Islands…shit, it’s going to be so beautiful.”

“It’s a dream come true. I always wanted to go, but it was expensive. But hitting thirty made me realize I wasn’t getting any younger and that all this money I was saving, well, I can’t take it with me when I die, so why the fuck not go?”

Seth leaned against the doorjamb with a smile on his face. “I love that for you.”

“Yeah, and you know, there are a lot of fancy royalty there, maybe I’ll meet my prince charming?” I wiggled my eyebrows.

“If he has a sister, hook me up.”

I shot him two finger guns and finished ordering the pizza. We spent the rest of the afternoon with me sitting on the sofa watching Seth unpack, eating pizza, and talking about everything and anything as we always did.

I left his place at about eight. I was all packed for my trip but having to get up at ungodly o’clock for my flight, I needed to hit the sack at a decent time. Of course I was too excited to simply drift off to dreamland, so I took some melatonin and eventually slept.

All too soon my alarm was blaring and I grumbled, noticing that the sun didn’t greet me—just darkness. “Humans shouldn’t be up this early.” I really didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. I’d booked the flights, but it was either this time or midnight and I hadn’t been feeling that at all.

After a shower, shave, and all the things that made me appear awake were done, I poured coffee and sat at my breakfast bar waiting for Mark and Hannah to arrive.

The buzzing of my doorbell had me slithering off the stool and opening the front door.

“Are you ready for v-a-c-a-t-i-o-n?” Hannah singsonged.

I shifted my gaze from her to her husband Mark, who looked as exhausted as I was.

“You have no one to blame but yourself, Mark. You married a morning person.”

He hummed. “Come on, let’s get your bags and go.”

The ride to the airport was pleasant because no sane person was up at this hour. We got through TSA in ten minutes—which was amazing—and that meant we had way too much time on our hands. Our flight wouldn’t arrive for another hour.

“Oh, lookie!” Hannah thrust a magazine in my face. “Prince Julian Davaros is doing an island tour for a whole month. Maybe we’ll get a glimpse of the heir apparent while we’re there.”

Prince Julian Davaros was on the front cover of Royalty Magazine, and he was gorgeous. Truly. His dark-blond hair was swept back away from his face, his gray eyes in shadow against the light, and he wore a black tuxedo. The man stared at the camera like it was prey and he was the predator, and the power emanating off him in the photo sent a shiver up my spine.

“I’d probably stumble and accidentally shove him into oncoming traffic if I met him.” I snorted.

Hannah giggled. “Hey, you only tripped twice in the airport. That’s progress.”

I was clumsy, no way around it. There wasn’t anything wrong with me medically, I just…okay, my head got lost in the clouds sometimes and I’d been diagnosed with ADHD in high school, so that could have something to do with it.

I needed my brain and my body to get organized. I’d tried meds, and they helped, but at the end of the day my ADHD brain was gonna do whatever the hell it wanted. I just had to hold on for the ride and keep the casualties low in the process.

“Oh!” Hannah smacked my arm. “That’s our flight!”

I hadn’t heard the announcement nor felt the notification on my phone. This was why I couldn’t travel alone; I’d either miss my flight or end up on the wrong one.

My carry-on in hand, I followed Mark and Hannah to the gate. Excitement bubbled in my stomach as I walked through the sky bridge toward the airplane. This was going to be a trip of a lifetime. Memories would be made and dreams fulfilled. I couldn’t wait.








Davidson King
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.


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Under His Rule

In the Spotlight Series


Monday, April 13, 2026

Monday's Memorial Moment: Cigars in the Parlor by Shane Michaels




Summary:

When Kit Walker’s leg is shattered at the Battle of Manassas, he finds himself on Doctor Wallace Sanger’s operating table. Wallace saves his life but removes his leg. As his wounds mend, the two men find more than comfort as they explore each other's hidden desires.

From the battlefields of Manassas, Virginia, to the Union prison in Elmira, New York, author Shane Michaels explores the hidden world of men loving men during the American Civil War. In this erotic tale of lust, love, and sacrifice, two men find solace in each other’s arms - and other's arms - as they are caught between the splintered world of the Union and the Confederacy.

Explicit dark romance for men who love men. This novel was previously released on Amazon in a serialized format. This version is the complete novel.





Original Review April 2021:
Cigars in the Parlor has been on my Kindle for a few years and just kept getting buried but I finally had a chance to read it.  I've never read this author before, which can always be a bit of a scary thing for some but for me it just adds to the adrenaline rush of discovery and possibilities.  I wasn't disappointed.  Cigars is a lovely blend of reality and fiction with the perfect balance of drama and sexy times.  It's easy to feel for Kit and his new found reality after losing his leg and the pull between him and Wallace, the doctor who saved his life, is believable and entertaining. As a historical lover it is always important when authors use little details to keep the era real, or as real as possible for dramatic fiction.  I'm not looking for a history lesson but those realistic elements help to not only set a scene but also sucks the reader into the story.  For those who don't think about LGBT in history terms, it's stories like Cigars in the Parlor that can open eyes and even though it's fiction it can pique a readers fascination and lead them to discover the truths of the era, I know that was one of the things that made me a history lover when I was in junior high.  As I hit the last page I was entertained and that is what is important, making this a worthwhile read.

RATING:





1. AFTER MANASSAS 
The storefront was hot. Dr. Wallace Sanger had been working all day, the pile of limbs growing with every soldier that was brought into the room. It was a senseless war. He grew angrier with every stroke of the saw – so many men in their prime hobbled before they had even lived. Dr. Sanger didn’t understand why Lincoln was insistent on keeping Virginia in the Union. Every one of the poor souls on his table had been chasing some inane vision of the South that they did not really understand. Freedom. Slavery. States Rights. Self-determination. These words meant very little when there was a bone-saw your hand. 

Two soldiers brought in one last patient on a stretcher, placing him on the operating table. 

“Doc… I don’t want to lose my leg. Please.” 

The man was clearly in great pain. His head was warm and he was covered in sweat. Fever coursed through him. 

“It’s infected. You’ll die if I don’t.” 

Wallace looked at his patient wearily. He noticed the man’s deep blue eyes. “What’s your name?” 

“Kit… Kit Walker.” 

“I’m Doctor Wallace Sanger.”

The man was shaking. Wallace spoke in a low voice. “I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” he said, “I’m sorry to have to do this but it’s for the best.” 

“Doc, please.” 

“You do want to live don’t you?” 

Kit said nothing. 

Wallace and Kit were about the same age. If he had not gone to the university, the doctor realized that it might have been him on that table. Wallace studied the soldier. Kit seemed familiar, like an old friend. Wallace guessed that he had once been quite handsome – but it was clear that his body had been ravaged by cold nights in tents and meager rations. Only his beard showed signs of life - bushy and red. 

Wallace cut the hem of Kit’s trousers and then ripped the fabric up the length of his leg, revealing gangrene already above the knee. Kit had been shot, his bone shattered. Wallace removed the filthy bandage and examined the limb closely. He needed to cut above the knee instead of below. He picked up the bottle of chloroform. “Is this all we have left?” 

Kit had fear in his eyes as he stared at the brown bottle. 

His nurse answered him, “Yes. I asked them to bring more but they said that’s all we’ve got.”

Wallace nodded. “Kit, I’m going to put you under to do this. I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to take good care of you. You’re going to live. I promise. Hear me?” 

“What happens to my leg?” Kit asked. 

“We bury it with the rest of them. Now, just lean back and close your eyes.” 

Kit sobbed gently. His life was about to change, but at least he could leave the war. Wallace took a clean piece of cotton and turned the bottle upside down over it until it was saturated. He took the rag and held it over Kit’s face until the man was unconscious. 

Wallace had a routine now. He had learned to do the job quickly before the men awoke. He knew to leave a flap of extra skin. He would cut through the muscle until he found the bone and then use strong, firm strokes to saw it in two. He sweated as he did this, the nurse wiping his brow. It took less than a minute to separate the flesh from its owner, tossing the heavy limb onto a table next to him with a thud. One of the soldiers picked it up and took it outside as the nurse helped him to stop the bleeding. He sewed quickly until the flap of skin was neatly sealed over the wound. She helped him dress the stump with clean cotton and a compression bandage to control the bleeding. 

“Take him into the church,” Wallace said, motioning to the soldiers. 

They picked up the stretcher and carried Kit out the front door of the storefront, across the street, up the steps of the church, and into the nave of the church where he was laid on a cot among the dozens of other men.

Wallace took a deep breath. When he went to medical school, he thought he would be dealing with old men having cases of gout and young women having their first child. He never dreamed his first year after medical school would be spent in the fields of Virginia sawing the limbs off young men. He was happy to be away from the warfront, working in town where bullets did not fly. As difficult as it was, it seemed much kinder here. 

The nurse had filled a pan with water for him to wash; the blood on his hands immediately stained it red. His apron was covered with many men’s blood; he carefully undid the knot at his back, folded his apron, and placed it on the table. He took the pan and threw the water outside into the street and then poured fresh more to wash his face. He hated to walk into the church covered in blood; his patients needed to forget what they had lost. 

He went outside into the street. He could already hear men wailing in agony inside the church. He pulled his pocket watch out and looked at the time; he was starving but knew he had to make his rounds first. There was much to do. 

Wallace walked up the steps into the church where row after row of men lay on cots. He proceeded to visit one and then the next, stopping to see if any infections had taken hold. The room was crowded and the air still. Women from town fretted to and fro, wiping one man’s brow, feeding another, emptying a bed pan. Each nodded as the doctor passed. 

Wallace noticed Kit lying on a cot in the last row, under a stained glass window of Adam reaching out to God. Kit was beginning wake, looking about the room groggily. The light shone on his face, his hair glowing like a bonfire. Wallace was compelled to sit with him. 

“Shhh… Kit. You’re okay. Just lie still,” he said. 

Kit’s eyes opened. 

A woman walked by. “Nurse, this man needs morphine.” 

“We don’t have any,” she said, “We don’t have much of anything left.” 

Wallace could tell Kit was overwhelmed by the pain. He took his hand. “I know it hurts. I’m here for you. Just like I promised.” 

Kit looked up at the man. Dr. Sanger was tall and handsome. His face was silhouetted in the light; Kit thought he might have some Cherokee in him, his hair thick and black and his jaw strong. The light poured over the doctor, shining through the thin cotton shirt he wore, damp with sweat. 

As the chloroform wore off, the pain grew worse. Wallace wiped Kit’s brow. 

“There now, squeeze my hand when it gets bad.” 

* * * * *

Wallace was exhausted but he sat with Kit for hours. He had so many patients that day, but Kit called to him. When Kit finally fell asleep, the room was dark, lit only by candles hung on the wall. A few nurses still shuffled about. 

“Doctor, shouldn’t you go home?” a nurse asked, “You’ve been here for hours.” 

Wallace nodded his head. His new friend was finally asleep. He got up from his stool and made the walk through town back to his room.

Betsy Marple was renting him a room in her home. She was two year’s a widow – and he suspected that she was trying to find a second husband. He was terrified that he had given her the wrong impression – that he was smitten with her. “Where have you been?” she said as he entered, “I was worried about you.” 

“I had a very bad day. There were so many today.” 

Betsy had saved dinner for him. It sat on the table, covered with a napkin. “Here. Eat something,” she said, “You need your strength.” 

Wallace did as she asked. The beef was cold but filling. 

“Just leave the plate. I’ll get it in the morning,” she said. 

Betsy went up to her room. He quickly finished eating and pulled himself up the stairs to his bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He found a handkerchief and put it on the nightstand. His clothes stank and he threw them to the floor before blowing out the lamp. The room was too hot; the mattress, hard. He was tired but could not sleep. 

He saw Kit as he closed his eyes. He imagined what the man had looked like before the war started – his muscles strong, his smile full of white teeth, and his red hair full and clean. He was certain that Kit had been quite popular with the ladies – and maybe the men. It had been so long since he held another man. 

A year earlier the doctor might have exchanged glances with Kit on the street. They would have chatted about the weather and asked each other if they were courting a lady. One would have said no; the other, likewise. They would have laughed and looked at each other, stealing glances until their glances coincided and melted together into a single pool of acknowledgement. 

Kit’s eyes flashed again. Wallace felt his cock grow hard. He imagined himself running his hands along Kit’s strong chest, feeling muscle beneath his fingers, silky smooth. Kit would pull him close, pushing his head onto his nipple. 

Wallace wrapped his hand around his cock as he imagined finding Kit standing in an alley with him, the two pawing at each other like animals. The doctor would fall to his knees, his pants getting stained on the filthy cobblestone. Next, he would unbutton Kit’s fly, freeing the soldier’s cock and the tangle of his red bush. He would nibble at it gently, teasing him, until the man could take no more. Kit would grab his head and shove his cock deep into Wallace’s mouth. Wallace imagined the saltiness of it, his hands wrapped around Kit. He would pull the soldier’s pants down and feel the hard muscles of his calves and the soft fur of his ass. 

Wallace imagined all this, jacking his cock with urgency. He needed release. 

He pictured Kit standing there, continuing to pound away at his mouth. Kit would moan softly as he came. Wallace increased his pace, his eyes closed, picturing the fantasy in his head, until he felt the world wash over him. He felt his own warm cum pulse onto his chest and his mouth. 

He sat there motionless, covered in sweat as his breathing slowed. He stared at the blank ceiling. Finally, Wallace reached for the handkerchief and wiped his skin clean. Only then did he realize how long it had been since he had climaxed.

Wallace cringed when he realized the source of his fantasy – the man whose leg he had dismembered hours earlier. As he fell asleep, he wondered what would happen to this beautiful man.



Shane Michaels

With a passion for untold history, Shane Michaels looks for details that hint at the hidden lives of gay men in days past. Though he now lives in a remote community in the northeast, his roots are in the South. His first erotic romance, 'Cigars in the Parlor', delves into life in Virginia during the American Civil War. The story tells of a doctor and soldier that fall in love under tragic circumstances. His second novella, 'TransAlaska' tells of a trans-woman who falls for a hunky gold-miner in rural Alaska in the 1990s. His 2023 release of 'The Milkman', tells the story of two men trying to find love in a small town during the lavender scare of the 1950s. ‘Kushtaka’ is the story of two desperate goldminers finding love during the Yukon Goldrush while enduring a jealous ghost. Shane has also published a number of short stories.








Saturday, March 28, 2026

πŸ€Saturday's Series SpotlightπŸ€: The Courtside King Duology by Kora Knight




Tamed #1
Summary:

When aspirations and passion collide, Breck’s thrown onto a playing field he never anticipated.

Unrivaled in college basketball as a point-guard prodigy, Breck Harland has definitely earned his title as King of the Court. All around town, he’s a bona fide celebrity, his reputation with the ladies reinforcing a facade he's determined to protect. No one, not even his best friend, knows he's bi.

Enter Grandmaster Kai Nakado, the one person not impressed by Breck's imperial air.

When Breck signs up for his martial arts class, Kai makes it clear he finds his new student arrogant, impulsive, unfocused. With each exchange, their clashing chemistry intensifies, and Breck finds himself not just angry and frustrated… but inexplicably turned on. A fire that rages even hotter when Kai introduces him to the art of rope bondage, a talent Kai proves even more skilled at than martial arts.

At the hands of this experienced Dom, Breck's tenuous control threatens to slip from his grasp, the things he thought he wanted suddenly not so clear. If he’s not careful, Kai will completely derail him, a risk he can’t afford if he plans to make it to the pros.

Can he stop what’s already in motion, or will Kai tame the unattainable king?

Tamed, book one in the Courtside King Duology. A steamy, slow-burn, gay romance that will keep you riveted on the sidelines for more.







Claimed #2
Summary:
Breck wants him more than any championship title, but to win him, he’s got to sink the greatest basket of his life.

With college behind him and the NBA in sight, draft shoo-in Breck Harland should be riding cloud nine with visions of grandeur and glory.

Should be. He’s striven for this his entire life.

But as of late, one all-consuming obstacle has planted itself firmly in the path of his dreams.

The obstacle: Kai Nakado. Martial arts Grandmaster and Breck’s dream-Dom obsession. The wonders he’s shown Breck behind the privacy of closed doors, the feelings he’s elicited inside Breck’s elusive heart, have introduced a whole other side to life that Breck never knew existed.

What starts out as raw, fiery attraction turns to a soul-deep connection—and King Breck of the Court couldn’t be less prepared. No longer does he merely want Kai. Now he needs him, on a level that shakes his foundation

But a future with Kai isn’t possible, because Kai refuses to hide with Breck in his closet of fear.
And going public would all but destroy Breck’s hard-won chances of getting signed. He’s worked too hard, has too much at stake. And now his warring emotions have him mentally spiraling.

As Kai teeters on the precipice of cutting his losses, torn by wanting to support Breck but unwilling to tolerate his manic, reckless behavior, Breck is forced to decide which means more: his high-profile basketball career, or a life with Kai - the one and only person on the planet who's managed to claim his heart.

Experience this breathtaking conclusion to the Courtside King Duology, packed with heartfelt struggles and smoldering passion, inside and out of the sheets.

Warning: contains gloriously graphic scenes of guy-on-guy lovin'.





Tamed #1
ONE
START OF SOPHOMORE YEAR GEORGE MASON UNIVERSITY
“Hey, big guy. We’re headed over to Skidoo’s to celebrate another promising party year. You’re comin’ too, right?” 

Breck’s lips quirked into a lopsided grin. Holding his phone to his ear, he shook his head as he came to a stop at a traffic light. “I’m actually gonna have to pass this time.” 

“What!” Ned protested, a reaction Breck had anticipated. It was tradition for the four of them—Breck, Ned, Tad, and Jay—to party on the very first weekend of every school year. 

And in Ned’s defense, this one was especially important. They’d be going out as non-freshmen at George Mason University, having triumphed over their first year as the lowest on the totem pole. So now, in essence, they weren’t just celebrating the new semester, but the fact that they’d be attacking it as sophomores. 

“I know,” Breck sighed, shaking his head. “But I’m moving into the frat house this weekend and tonight’s the initiation.” 

“Ugh,” Ned groused. “Can’t you tell all your Kappa Theta Sigma butt buddies to do it another time?”

“No,” Breck laughed. “I cannot. And after living in a dorm for the last year, no way am I gonna risk losin’ my shot at a bed in this place instead. Besides, these are varsity bros I’ll be rooming with. Varsity. A destination I will reach, even if it kills me. And getting in tighter with them can only help speed up the process.” 

Ned grunted. “You and your ambitions. Seriously. You’re making me feel like a loser.” 

Breck grinned as the light turned green. Stepping on the gas, he continued on his way. “Nothing wrong with your destination, my man. You’re gonna kill it. You know this. I know this.” 

“I really am.” Ned’s confident smile was almost palpable. 

He was going for a degree in computer engineering, his sights set on a career in game design. Not that he spent his days in front of a console. Hell, he was as active as Breck in his own right. Ned’s ‘court’ was very different from Breck’s, though, with a much higher risk of serious injury. Ned might’ve been a wrestling boss in high school with Tad, but these days the guy kicked serious ass in parkour. A passion he planned to take to the gaming world. 

Breck nodded and took a right. “So anyway, wish me luck. It should be an interesting evening.” 

“Yeah,” Ned snorted. “Don’t let them haze you too bad. I mean, a dildo up the ass is fine and all, but no drinking questionable substances or letting ‘em light you on fire. Freaky kink is cool, flame-broiling my bestie is not.” 

Breck laughed. “Alright, I’ll be sure to adhere to your guidelines.” 

In truth, despite his calm front, he was nervous. Fraternities were notorious for their initiation rituals. The last thing Breck wanted was to end the night in a hospital. Getting his stomach pumped. Or shit, his skin grafted back on.

“You better,” Ned pressed. “Don’t make me have to storm your little brotherly squat spot tomorrow to kick some b-ball bitches in the nuts.” 

Breck’s grin quirked up all lopsided again. “Now that’d be fun to watch.” 

Ned was showing love in his typical macho-man way, and Breck appreciated that shit. He truly did. Because he loved that randy little fucker, too. Out of the four in their posse, he and Ned were always the closest. Jay was good people, but he was annoying as much as amusing. And while Breck adored Tad, the levelheaded one that kept them all grounded, Ned just seemed more on the same wavelength. Able to complement Breck’s vibe in all the right ways. That they both drank and fucked too much probably had something to do with it. 

But hey, life was short. And indulging was fun. 

Pulling up to the curb of his potential new abode, Breck parked his Nissan Altima and climbed out. He didn’t trust the hooligans in this neighborhood, so locking things up came next. His baby, all sleek and black, was brand new, after all. A gift from his parents for making it through his first year of college—with killer grades to top it off. 

To Breck, though, his car was another step toward total autonomy. Now he’d go home to visit his parents when he wanted to, not when they swooped in out of nowhere to cart him away. 

Not that he anticipated going home very often. The weekends at college were just too fun. His closest friends were with him, after all. Why on earth would he ever want to leave? 

Sorry, Mom and Dad. I love you and all but… yeah. 

He really truly did, though. His mom and him were tight. As the child of interracial parents, he’d long since stopped noticing the differences between them; her complexion fair and his a light brown. Her hair a honey blonde and his dark. Not that you could see much of it. He kept it buzzed close to the scalp. 

Their smiles, on the other hand, did match. Or so people said. As did their eyes; a warm yellow brown that gleamed like gold. And even though he had her by over a foot, their dispositions were virtually the same. Both super laid back and chill—when life permitted. 

His dad, however, he looked nearly identical to. The same height, the same bone structure, the same build. Which worked out well since they both loved their basketball. Like Breck, his dad used to play in college. To this day, they still shot hoops together when Breck was home. 

Which wasn’t as often as his dad would like during the school year. And honestly, even when Breck was home for a weekend, he tended to gravitate more towards his mom. Not that he didn’t like his dad. The man was just so damn demanding. Always hounding Breck to be the very best. To earn not just acclaim from others, but veneration. 

And Breck got it. He did. He understood why his dad insisted. He’d had a hard life as a kid, living in the roughest part of town. Always broke, always bullied. But ultimately, he’d made something of his life. Had busted his ass and gotten a great job. Not the one he’d wanted, playing professional basketball, but he’d earned the respect he deserved and wanted the same for his son. 

The fact that Breck excelled in basketball just fanned the flames, enticing his dad to live vicariously through him. He’d never had the chance to make it big in sports like Breck. So now it was up to Breck to take them both to stardom. 

The man wouldn’t be satisfied, wouldn’t truly be happy, until Breck became the basketball superstar he never was. Until Breck won the adoration of the whole fucking world. 

A goal that, incidentally, Breck was one hundred percent on board with.

He just wished his dad would give him a breather. 

Exhaling, he headed for his fraternity’s front door—soon to be his as well if all went smoothly. He had no reason to think it wouldn’t, though. He knew most of the guys. Had partied with them countless times during freshman year. 

Still, it was initiation night, and he wondered what the seniors had planned. From what he understood, they’d be the ones running the show. No outsiders or freshmen allowed. Just initiates and upperclassmen. 

And lots of beer. 

Thrumming in anxious anticipation, he scaled the front stoop and gave the door a knock. Whatever they dished out tonight, he could totally take it. Would take it. Like a champ. He was no fucking wuss. 

The door swung open. One of the seniors. “Breck.” The guy smiled. 

Breck grinned and lifted his chin. “S’up, Cory.” 

They bumped fists then smacked palms. 

“Sticking around for tonight?” Cory waved him through. The guy was varsity. Specifically, the Patriot’s center. Dark and big. Easily six-foot-seven. With a strong jaw and short, black hair shaved close on the sides. 

“Absolutely.” Breck made sure to sound confident. Stepping into the foyer, he spotted dudes with Solo cups ambling about. Some already wearing their togas. He smirked. “I see the keg’s been tapped.” 

Cory chuckled. “It’s after noon. Of course it’s been tapped.” 

Breck headed into the TV room. More frat bros lounged atop a huge sectional couch, sports games blaring from the surround sound as, in the kitchen, lively hip-hop thumped.

“Grab a beer.” Cory motioned to the keg in the corner. “I’ll catch back up with you and the others in a bit.” 

He disappeared around the corner just as one of Breck’s sophomore buddies moseyed over. 

“B.” The guy beamed, gripping his Solo cup. 

“Jegs.” Breck grinned back and clasped his palm. Jegs was one of his favorites. Had the friendliest face. Damn near the identical twin of Malcolm from that Marvel series, Jessica Jones. What was great about him, though, was that despite his amicability, the guy was a total nonconformist. And ridiculously fun. Ready to party in the most outlandish of ways at the drop of a hat. Always kicking Breck out of his comfort zone. And Breck fucking loved it. 

“You ready for this?” Jegs asked. 

Breck lifted a brow. Wow. His brazen buddy actually sounded nervous. 

Which, in fairness, Breck supposed made sense. Initiation night was notorious for a reason. And Jegs, like Breck, was one of the lucky initiates. 

“Will be,” Breck chuckled, eyeing the keg. “Just need to chug a beer or two. Or maybe ten.

 * * * * 

By nightfall, he was definitely good and then some. But so was everyone else in the house. 

Breck laughed as he sat with his fellow sophomores around the kitchen’s old rickety table, their Solo cups nearing empty yet again, their drinking game in full swing. They’d been designated to the ‘servants table’ once the festivities had begun, while the upperclassmen convened in the dining room to play some poker. According to them, that was the initiates’ first undertaking; assuming the official role of the fraternity’s inferiors.

The second involved the ‘uniform’ they had to wear. Black and white formal bow ties with matching boxer briefs. And not a lick of anything else. Their third task? Actually waiting on the seniors—or rather, their ‘superiors,’ as the upperclassmen had called themselves—which Breck and the others had been doing now for a couple of hours. Non-stop fetching them food and beer as they played their fucking games. 

Whatever. For the most part, Breck didn’t mind. Could’ve been worse. Honestly, the whole scenario was pretty funny. He didn’t give a shit about being half dressed and didn’t mind the sight of the others. Like the female body, the male physique was a fabulous thing, and something he found himself appreciating often. With his eyes, though. Not his hands. 

Although, truth be told, he’d sometimes wondered what it’d be like. To clutch another guy’s strong body, but not like he did during basketball games. To feel their hot breath on his neck. Rough, exerted pants. But not due to running. Or anything at all that related to sports. Which he supposed meant that he was bi. Something he’d suspected for a while, to be honest. Ever since the end of middle school when he’d started to really think about sex. 

“Yo, Breck! Another beer, bitch!” boomed a voice from the dining room. 

Sophomores snickered around the table. 

Breck tamped a laugh and shoved back in his chair, then rose to his feet. Which, incidentally, proved a delicate act since he was already three sheets to the wind. 

Jegs laughed and shook his head. “You better move faster than that. I dragged my feet last time and paid the price.” 

Breck lifted a brow as he ambled toward the fridge. The upperclassmen were drinking from longnecks, not the keg. “What’d they make you do?”

“Give Dante a fucking lap dance.” The kitchen erupted in laughter, eight drunk initiates in total. Jegs grinned from ear to ear. “I rocked his world.” 

“Sorry I missed that.” Breck promptly picked up the pace. Not so much because the idea of doing a lap dance was so abhorrent, he just wasn’t as publicly outgoing and carefree as Jegs. 

Yanking the door open, he snagged a beer, then warily made his way into the dining room. Socrates—the Patriot’s hotshot shooting guard, nicknamed for his uncanny, and oftentimes annoying, ability to question everything—tracked his approach. 

Breck’s heart thudded under his gaze. God, that man’s eyes. Bright olive green. Framed by thick lashes. Complimented by a head of short black dreads and Socrates’ wolfish smile. 

Breck shuffled over, careful in his tipsiness not to bounce off any obstacles, then dropped down to one knee like they’d been instructed and offered his gift. 

Socrates took it with a chuckle. “Thanks, wench.” 

Across the table, Cory threw down his cards. “Fuck this game. I say it’s time for the main event.” 

Breck stilled. “Main event?” 

“Yeah.” Cory stood, glancing at his cohorts. Some grinned. Others chuckled. A few loosed drunken grunts. Next thing Breck knew, they all were sauntering into the kitchen. 

The initiates paused in their card game and looked up. 

“Attention, little underlings,” Cory announced, spreading his stance. The rest of his posse assumed similar positions. “Playtime’s over. How’s everyone feeling?” 

“Great.” 

“Awesome.” 

“Fucking fantastic.”

Cory nodded. “Good. Because the moment of truth has arrived. Both feet to the fucking fire. Those who accept the challenge will make the cut.” 

“And what challenge is that, sir?” Jegs laid down his cards. Breck eyed the things. 

Damn. A straight flush. Not bad. 

“To submit to your superiors,” Cory rumbled, “in the most primitive and carnal of ways.” 

The sophomores stilled and swapped confused looks. 

“You know,” Dante laughed. “Grab your ankles.” 

“And hold the fuck on.” Socrates grinned. “’Cause we don’t do gentle.” 

Breck tensed, wrapping his brain around their words. “You’re joking.” 

Cory crossed his arms and shrugged. “It’s how we were initiated. How our brothers before us were, too. A rite of passage and shit. An act of fidelity. Wasn’t so bad. Better than getting paddled until we couldn’t sit down. Or taking a trip to the fuckin’ ER after drinking something meant for an engine.” 

One of the initiates swallowed. “You’re seriously… gonna make us do this?” 

“We’re not gonna make you do anything.” Cory laughed. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. There’s the door. But if you stay? And acquiesce like the rest of us did?” He turned serious. “You’ll never find yourself in a fiercer brotherhood. For your bravery, we will always have your back. And should some idiot fool ever do you wrong, we will descend on them like a pack of rabid wolves.” 

The sophomores fidgeted, swapping more looks. 

“But aren’t there other ways to show our loyalty?” one anxiously asked.

“Sure,” Dante piped in. His voice had gone husky. “But nothing so genuine. This is laying one’s self out bare. We know because we’ve done it. Felt the depth of this sacrifice. You give us your trust and we’ll give you our respect.” His lips slowly curved. “That, and a wicked fucking orgasm.” 

The upperclassmen laughed. 

Breck stared at them. Holy fuck. They were serious. What’s more, he’d vowed to himself at the start of this night that he’d accept any challenge.

 Jegs jerked his chin. “This shit stays in this house? 

No one ever finds out?” “No one. Ever.” Cory raked each initiate with a threatening eye. “Because if they did, we wouldn’t bother looking for the rat. We’d hunt every one of you down and beat your asses senseless. That way, the guilty one pays no matter what.” 

Breck exhaled, reassured. 

Maybe he could do this. 

He squared his shoulders. Clenched his jaw. 

Wait. Shouldn’t he be horrified? 

Some of the other initiates looked downright aghast. Although, wow. He glanced at the rest. Surprisingly, the majority looked more like him. All but done with making their decision and now just steeling their resolve. Or maybe they were all just that intoxicated. He certainly was. Thing was, where he was concerned, this scenario wasn’t so much about exploiting his lack of inhibitions as it was about ramping up that preexisting curiosity. 

Yes, he was drunk. He wouldn’t deny that. But he also had that secret thing for guys. That ‘secret’ being the urge to explore with them sexually. An urge that, again, he’d had since middle school. Something that had nothing to do with beer. Granted, his predilection wasn’t as strong for guys as it was for girls. But it was there, deep inside, and in this crazy moment, he found himself wanting to use this pledge as a justification to take the plunge. 

After all, what other chance would he ever get? It wasn’t like he’d make a move on a guy, and he’d never ever ask a brother out. Why bother? He wasn’t interested in them romantically, didn’t want to hold their hand. He wanted aggression, rough grips, rowdy tugs, hard slams. An aspect of sex he couldn’t get from any girl. 

He met his friend’s eyes. 

Jegs shrugged. “I say fuck it.” 

One of the initiates named Charlie gaped. “Are you for real?” 

“Why not? They all did. And we’re just as tough as they are.” He coughed a small laugh. “Besides, how bad could it be? It’s sex for fuck’s sake. And we’re all fucking drunk. Let’s just do this shit and get back to partying.” 

Breck smirked and shook his head. Jegs was one go-with-the-flow motherfucker. 

The guy to his left, however, shook his head and stood. “No can do.” 

Two others got up as well. “Yeah. Not our thing.” 

Breck watched them head out as the seniors looked on. Turning to Jegs, he bumped his fist. “Screw it, I’m in.” 

The last three initiates swapped drunken looks then nodded. “Us, too.” 

Cory blinked, brows hiking, then glanced at his buddies. Then just like that, the seniors erupted into laughter. 

“Holy shit!” Dante exclaimed. “You guys would’ve done that?” 

Socrates shook his head. “We got some freaks in da house.”

“As if we’d fuck ‘em!” Cory guffawed, holding his sides. 

All the blood drained from Breck’s face. 

“So… you don’t wanna…” Charlie sputtered. 

“Fuck no!” they shouted in unison. 

The sophomores glared, exasperated. 

The one named Reggie glanced at the door. “What about the guys who just left?” 

Dante shrugged. “What about ‘em? They failed the test.” 

“You all are dicks,” Jegs laughed. “That was seriously wrong.” 

Cory coughed. “No, believing we’d wanna fuck your sorry asses is what’s wrong. So now, just for thinking that shit, you’ve earned yourselves another fun little task.” 

Breck crossed his arms and eyed him. “What kind of task?” 

Cory wagged brows. “Pedicures, you freaky bitches. Now go warm up some water.”





Claimed #2
ONE 
“Hae cho. Class dismissed.” Kai bowed to his students.

They smiled, returning the gesture, and ambled into the locker rooms to change back into their clothes.

Kai glanced at the time. 4:57 PM. Breck should be arriving any time.

As if in sync with his train of thought, said graduate came into view through the dojang’s front door. Still across the street, his hands were pocketed in his shorts, his long gait loose but not entirely relaxed. Was he excited? Nervous? It was hard to tell. Kai’s body thrummed at the notion of finding out. This session would be different, more intense by its very nature. Shibari expositions were far more elaborate than what he taught in class.

Stepping to the check-in counter, he returned his attention to the departing students, reciprocating their bows as they said goodbye and headed out. Kai peered through the door, expecting to see Breck closing in. Instead, he found no sign of him. He scanned the windows, but Breck was nowhere in sight.

Kai quirked a brow, wondering where he’d gone.

His assistants, Dindy and Jin, packed up to go a few minutes later. “See you tomorrow, Grandmaster Kai.” They gave a bow.

Kai responded in kind, then walked them to the door. “Thanks for your help.”

They cut a right and made their way toward student housing. Kai peered around. Still no Breck. Had he changed his mind and headed home?

Kai retrieved his phone from the reception counter. A notification lit up his screen. He thumbed open Messenger. A text from Breck. Kai frowned. Why would he message him instead of just coming inside?

Had he truly reconsidered and decided to cancel?

Disappointment threatened as Kai pulled up the text.


Hey, Kai. I’m here.

Meet you around back.


Kai exhaled, his worry quickly evaporating.

Jesus. He shouldn’t feel so relieved.

But more to the point, why was Breck waiting out back?

Locking up, he headed to the back of the training hall, exited into the vestibule, then pushed through the building’s rear-entry door. Breck sat on the curb beneath a tree, scrolling idly on his phone. Kai sighed at the sight of him. God, he looked good. A heather-gray t-shirt hugged his sculpted chest, while dark blue basketball shorts hung around his toned, athletic thighs. And that face. Those eyes. That mouth. In the late day sun, he looked as handsome as ever.

Breck met his gaze, then got to his feet and pocketed his cell. “Hey.”

Kai eyed him curiously, motioning over his shoulder. “It’s kinda hot out. You could’ve waited inside.”

“Yeah… I know.” Breck looked away. Gave a shrug.

Kai regarded him further. “So, then… why didn’t you?”

Breck shifted his weight, chewed his lip, inspected the grass. “I uh… didn’t want to slow down the flow of traffic heading out of your building. People like to… you know, stop and talk to me.” He donned a cocky smile. “I’m kind of a big deal around here.”

“Ah.” Kai grinned at him wryly, then swept an arm across his midsection and dramatically bowed. “Your highness. How forgetful of me.”

Not that he was sold by Breck’s explanation. Although, in fairness, it did make sense. Breck was an icon in this college town and definitely attracted attention. Kai gestured for him to enter. “The coast is officially clear.”

A smirk tugged at Breck’s lips. “Just looking out for you,” he murmured, heading inside.

Kai turned and led the way. “And I appreciate the effort.” Taking to the stairwell, he scaled the steps toward his place.

“So… do your assistants know?” Breck asked, following him up.

Kai slowed. Peered over his shoulder. “Do my assistants know what?”

Breck rubbed his head. Cleared his throat. “Um… that you’re gay.”

Kai frowned and turned back, reaching his apartment. And there it was. The real reason Breck had ducked-and-dodged. He hadn’t wanted his peers to see him. Especially not Jin and Dindy, in case they knew about Kai. They were students from George Mason too, after all. And word probably traveled fast regarding high-profile people.

Not loving the confirmation, but understanding it nevertheless, Kai exhaled and punched in his code. The keypad beeped and then the deadbolt released. “I don’t know. I’ve never told them directly, and they haven’t ever asked.” He pushed inside.

“Ah.” Breck entered behind him.

Kai could hear his unease. He turned and met Breck’s gaze. “Not that I’d care if they did. It’s not a secret.” He shrugged, turning back around. “One’s orientation is just another label. And I try really hard to avoid labels as best I can.”

“Why?” Breck followed him up the single step.

“They make it too easy to divide people. And it’s not like we’re just one thing, anyway. We’re multifaceted. Unique in countless ways. Yet, at the end of the day, we’re all still human, regardless of what label gets slapped on our backs.”

Breck appeared to think about that as Kai headed over to his music system. Docking his phone, he turned back. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna go grab a quick shower.”

Breck nodded, but didn’t move from where he was standing.

Kai turned and headed for his bedroom, pausing along the way to slide open the panels to his meditation garden. The added light was nice in the evening. And who knew, maybe Breck would appreciate the view.

Continuing on, he mounted the steps at the far end of his loft, then parted more panels and ducked inside his room. Rounding his bed, he entered the bathroom, its size generous, with a soaking tub, wood-crafted walls, and warm slate floors. Above him, a skylight offered ample sun. He stepped to the shower, reached in, and cranked on the water. His dobok came off swiftly—first his belt, then his top and pants.

But as each piece dropped from his body, he couldn’t help wondering about Breck’s attire. Had he worn another jock? The memory of him in one last Friday had Kai’s body instantly hardening. Not that this was the first time he’d graced his brain with that visual. He still had Breck’s pictures in his phone, after all. Pictures he’d gazed at often—and admittedly, at length. Even after their usefulness in aiding with his Shibari class had long since passed. They’d been the focal point of several quiet nights when he’d lain in bed with a wandering mind. The only thing that’d interrupted the silence, the sound of fingers slowly stroking rigid flesh. That and the soft, choppy breaths pumping out of his lungs. 

Stepping under the spray, he got busy washing off. But as the suds glided down his abs, then skimmed over his dragon, another memory emerged. When Breck had walked in on him showing Scott his ink. He could only imagine what Breck had thought they’d been doing. Had the misunderstanding made Breck determine him the promiscuous type? He’d told Breck he wasn’t, but now he wondered if he’d actually believed him.

He should’ve just explained what they’d been doing in that stall. In truth, he almost had, but that fire in Breck’s eyes had been utterly derailing. Whether Breck wanted to admit it or not, he relished being the focus of Kai’s attention—and had unwittingly stalked into that restroom to bask in it some more.

Which, in hindsight, Kai realized had put him on edge. No one commanded his attention, and yet, Breck had been doing just that all fucking night. Something Kai had recognized, just hadn’t been willing to accept at the time.

Shutting things off, he climbed out and did a brisk towel dry. A swift brushing of teeth came next, and then a finger comb through his damp black locks. No ponytail tonight, he’d let his hair hang loose—a decision that had nothing to do with the fact that he’d sensed Breck liked it down. The way he’d stared at it the night of the art show as he’d sat in Kai’s car. Throwing vibes like he’d wanted to tunnel his fingers through it—then maybe grip a handful and give a feisty tug.

Kai rumbled softly, then cleared his throat. Nope. That memory had no bearing to him at all.

He pulled on some shorts and a snug white tee, then exited his bedroom and made his way back to Breck.

Where would he be waiting? Perched on a stool? Lounging on the couch?

To Kai’s surprise, he found Breck chilling out in his meditation garden, sitting atop Kai’s mat, looking peaceful and relaxed as he took in the view. Kai lifted a brow and walked over.

Breck glanced up at him. Smiled. “I like it in here.”

Kai’s chest warmed. He returned Breck’s smile. It said a lot about a person if they could appreciate the beauty of nature. Even if Breck only sensed it on a subconscious level. Kai sank down on his haunches and glided a finger through the brook. “Do you ever meditate?”

Breck coughed out a laugh, then shook his head. “Yeah, um, no.”

Kai chuckled and stood. “All right then.” He offered Breck his hand. “Come on. I’m gonna make us some food.”

Breck stilled and glanced over at the kitchen, then looked back at Kai. As if the notion of eating a meal together crossed some taboo line. “Oh, um…” He gripped Kai’s palm. “You don’t have to feed me.”

Kai smiled and tugged him up. “Yes, but I’d like to. Grab a stool.”

Breck didn’t argue. Just followed Kai over and parked his ass at the island.

Kai grabbed two placemats, some linen napkins, and a couple of plates, then opened a drawer and snagged two sets of metal chopsticks. Breck frowned, regarding the utensils warily. Kai’s lips twitched. He stepped to his island and fired up what looked like a built-in cooktop.

Breck regarded it. “Nice griddle.”

“Thanks.” Kai chuckled. “It’s called a teppan.” He grabbed his kettle, filled it with water, then got it going on the stove. Flames licked along its underbelly.

Breck shifted on his stool. “You, ah, need any help?”

“Nope. But thanks for asking.” Kai opened the fridge and started pulling things out. Chopped-up vegetables. Precooked rice. Several bottles of sauce. A couple of eggs. Butter. And last but not least, the various proteins he’d purchased earlier that day. He looked at Breck. “You good with seafood?”

Breck smiled. “Absolutely.”

Kai nodded and emptied the rice onto one side of the teppan. On the other, he dumped his pre-chopped veggies.

Breck’s grin spread wider, his golden eyes glinting as he watched him. “Feels like I’m at a Japanese steakhouse. Got one of those poofy, white chef hats by chance?”

Kai smirked and grabbed a stainless-steel spatula. “Why? Into roleplay?”

Breck blinked, then coughed another laugh. “Uh…” He sat up straighter and rubbed his thighs. “Not exactly where I was going with that.”

Kai grabbed an egg. “But are you?”

Breck’s next laugh sounded strangled. “No idea. I’ve never tried it.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t say that’s true. Didn’t you and I do a bit of roleplaying last time you were here?”

Breck stilled. Did his cheeks just flush? Clearing his throat, he fought back a smile. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

Kai slid him a grin and bounced his egg atop his spatula, then turned said spatula sideways and let its edge slice the egg in half. Its contents fell cleanly onto the cooktop.

Breck’s brows rose. “Damn. Check you out. I’m a little impressed.”

Kai smiled roguishly. “What a pity. I was going for a little turned on.”

“Ah,” Breck chuckled. “Well, see, now that will depend.”

Kai lifted a brow. “On?”

“How well you pull off the onion volcano.”

Kai laughed and cracked a second egg, scrambled and chopped both up, then scooted them off to the side. Salt and pepper on the veggies and rice. Then he grabbed out a grilling fork. “Prepare,” he murmured, “to be aroused.”

Breck grinned, looking entirely entertained. Kai’s heart thumped. God, that genuine smile. It was damn near devastating. He forced himself to focus and turned back to his work. Not that his awareness wasn’t still fixed on Breck. Because it was. And no doubt, it’d remain that way until Breck walked out the door.

Taking the onion slice he had waiting in the wings, Kai separated its rings with his fork and spatula, then stacked them atop each other, biggest to smallest. Breck watched his every move intently. Kai savored the weight of his steadfast stare. Grabbing some oil, he filled his onion volcano. It sizzled and popped. He dug out a lighter, then a bottle of vodka from a nearby cabinet. Pouring it atop the oil, he positioned the lighter. Met Breck’s gaze.

Breck’s lips curved, eyes flashing. “Do it.”

Kai grinned and flicked the flint, which ignited the vodka, which ignited the oil. Mini flames erupted, bursting out of the top.

Breck laughed with another of those heart-stopping smiles.

Jesus. The sound of his joy. The sight of his cheer.

Kai’s heart thumped faster, his whole body tightening.

Breck was far too gorgeous for his own good—not to mention Kai’s.

Tamping the urge to stalk around the island and tug him close, Kai forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. “How’d I do?” he drawled, quartering the smoking onion. “Was I successful in turning you on?”

Breck shifted on his stool again, his grin turning boyish. “I may have been somewhat affected.”

Kai chuckled and slid the onion aside. This energy between them… It felt really good.

Twisting around, he turned off the heat to his kettle, then oiled up the remainder of the cooking surface. On to seafood. Two slabs of salmon and a pound of shrimp. Letting them cook, he jazzed up the rice and then tossed in the eggs, rice popping and dancing atop the surface as metal clanged.

Breck watched, looking wholly riveted, eyes tracking Kai’s hands and all the sizzling food. Which worked out nicely. Kai got to steal a few glances, the attractive man before him far more enticing than any meal.

His insides thrummed, enjoying Breck’s presence way too much. Just having him there in his home like this, as he cooked him food… It just felt right. He couldn’t explain it. Like this was the way it was supposed to be. A notion he was so not prepared to admit. Because while Breck had, admittedly, become more pleasurable to be around, he could still be arrogant. And immature. And still had drinking problems. All traits Kai wasn’t interested in. At all. Meaning, they could have their fun together, but that was it. Breck would never become a fixed part of his life. Despite how Kai might wish things could be between them, their worlds just didn’t align.

Exhaling quietly, he turned to his tea pot and filled its diffuser with leaves. Then he poured in the water, steam rising swiftly, and replaced the lid.

Breck regarded it, eyes curious. “What’s that?”

“Sencha.”

Breck lifted a brow, clearly not familiar.

Kai smiled. “Green tea.”

“Ah. Okay. Like matcha?”

“Kinda.” Kai nodded with a shrug. “Both are non-fermented. Although with sencha, you steep whole leaves, whereas with matcha, its leaves are ground up and mixed with water. Sencha’s lighter, more refreshing. I like it. If you’ve got good taste at all, you’ll like it, too.”

Breck’s lips twitched. He lifted his chin. “I’ve got good taste.”

Kai slid him an I’ve-yet-to-be-sold-on-that look and shifted his focus to soy-saucing the veggies. Their turn for some tossing. He flipped the seafood next, then drenched both slabs of salmon in teriyaki. One last douse of soy sauce to the shrimp and he was finally done.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he murmured, shutting off the cooktop.

Breck sat up straighter, all but licking his chops. “If I wasn’t before, I most definitely am now. It looks amazing and, oh my God, smells fucking incredible.”

Kai chuckled and pulled two teacups from a cabinet. “Just wait ‘til you taste it. I mean, I’m not one to brag, but…”

Breck laughed. “But yeah.”

Kai grinned and poured some tea into each mug, its rich amber hue catching the light of the evening sun. Then, using his spatula, he loaded up their plates from across the bar—just like they did in the restaurants. Would Breck notice his attempt to humor him? That megawatt smile on his face said he did.

“You’re a pro at this,” Breck concluded. “Lemme guess, you got a hibachi side-hustle on the weekends or something.”

Kai laughed and came around to join him. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe, if you’d agree to be my busboy.”

Breck snorted. “Pshh. I’m the king of this town. You’re lucky I even allowed you to cook me this food.”

Kai smirked, settling onto his stool. “And the royal returns. I was wondering how long he’d be able to stay away.”

Breck’s haughty air faltered. “I was kidding.”

“So was I.”

Breck eyed him, as if debating whether or not he believed him.

Kai shifted on his seat and faced his food. Their bare knees brushed. Breck’s whole body stilled, and yet he didn’t move his leg away. Nor did Kai. That skin on skin felt way too good.

Breck met his gaze. Kai’s stomach clenched. God, those eyes. How they bespelled him, all but compelling him to reach for the guy.

Breck swallowed and looked away. Locked his attention on his plate. Then proceeded to gracelessly fumble with his stainless-steel chopsticks. A sight that, for some asinine reason, Kai found ridiculously adorable. A wave of warmth coursed through his body. Tamping a smile, he held his chopsticks where Breck could see them, taking care not to make it look like he was demonstrating proper grip. Breck had pride. Fearsome pride. As Kai well knew. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the mood.

Eventually, Breck got the gist. “I’m typically a fork guy,” he muttered, securing a bite.

You don’t say.

Kai slid him a grin. “Just so you know, few things about tonight are going to be ‘typical’.”

Breck stilled, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, then quickly cleared his throat and refocused on bringing them home. He almost made it. Until the shrimp took a dive. Breck muttered a curse. Kai fought back another smile. This agile athlete’s awkwardness just kept hitting him in the feels. How something so clumsy, and nearly painful to watch, could be so endearing, he had no idea. And now he suddenly found himself struggling against the urge to reach over and feed Breck himself. Breck would be appalled, no doubt taking it as a slight, assuming that Kai was perceiving him as incompetent. If only he knew the truth—how much an interaction like that would turn Kai on.

An unbidden image slid to the forefront of his mind. Breck bound. Hands restrained. Famished, but helpless. Eyes imploring Kai to help. Which Kai did, giving him bites with just his fingers. Then feeding a different part of his body into Breck’s mouth…

Breck’s deep-throated moan yanked Kai back to now.

“Holy shit, Kai. This is so fucking good.”

Ah.He won the battle with that shrimp.

Kai shifted on his stool, his shorts suddenly snugger. “I’m glad you like it.” He took a bite and resumed his meal.

A few moments later though, Breck cursed again. Another crustacean had evaded his mouth.

Kai’s lips twitched as he chewed, observing him. Deciding to show mercy, he made a quick trip to the silverware drawer.

“Thanks,” Breck muttered as Kai handed him a fork. A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want any distractions taking away from my labors.”

Breck nodded in full agreement, then just like that, was shoveling down bite after bite. Eventually though, he did slow down, as if determining he’d sufficiently made up for lost time. Wiping his mouth, he shifted his focus back to Kai. “So, your mom, you said she’s Japanese?”

“Yes. And Korean.”

Breck took a swig of tea. “How about your dad?”

“Brazilian.”

Breck’s brows popped. “For real? They say Brazilians are the most beautiful people in the world.”

Kai eyed him. “Do they now. And what do you say?”

Breck blinked. “Oh… Um… Well… They’re certainly not hard on the eyes.”

Kai grinned a little. “He and Mom met in California. But it didn’t work out, so… he headed back home before I was born.”

“Ah. So, that’s why you kept your mom’s name.”

“It is indeed.”

They took a few more bites, but Kai could sense Breck’s brain churning. As if he wasn’t done with the talking and was merely prioritizing the many questions he wanted answered most.

A heartbeat later, he was back to wiping his mouth. “So…your class on Friday went well?”

That was the question he wanted answered most?

Kai’s lips quirked. No, Breck was just easing into his investigation. The beginnings of a nonchalant dig for information. Which amused Kai but also made him curious. What exactly was Breck hunting for? And for that matter, why did his interest make Kai want to smile?

“Yes, it went perfectly. Without a hitch.” He took another bite.

Breck watched him expectantly. When Kai didn’t elaborate, he asked, “So… everyone liked your design?”

“They did. Very much, in fact.”

Breck nodded. “That’s good.” A weighted pause. “So… they got to play?”

And there it was. A solid direction to his inquiries. Kai swallowed his bite and met Breck’s gaze. “Yes. Rather extensively.”

Breck fiddled with his placemat. Nodded again. “And… how’d things go with your model?”

Kai reached for his tea, took a sip, and set it back down. Returned his gaze to Breck’s and nodded. “They went fine.” He suspected what Breck was after, what he wanted to hear, but decided to play it safe and chose to not assume.

Breck watched him, as if trying to read his expression.

Kai smiled and murmured, “Remi’s very obedient and always well behaved.”

Breck shuttered his expression, but couldn’t mask that look of concern. “Do you like him?”

Kai’s heart thumped. Breck wanted to know if he’d played with his model like he’d played with him.

Kai paused, waiting for the thrill of satisfaction. Instead, an eddy of warmth swirled deep inside. He didn’t want to leave Breck hanging anymore. He wanted to tell him the truth. “As a person,” he answered. “But nothing more.”

Breck’s shoulders eased. Kai regarded him, bemused, wondering in earnest why he seemed to care. Breck had plenty of playthings at his disposal, and—Damn. Kai suddenly didn’t want to think about that notion. At all. Which was absurd. It didn’t concern him who Breck fucked. Shouldn’t bother him in the slightest that his dick was probably out of his pants more than it was in.

Unease filled Kai’s gut. Next thing he knew, he was asking his own questions. “And how about your night? How was Georgetown with your friends?”

Breck made a face, one that didn’t look all that happy. “It was fine.”

Kai lifted a brow. “Just fine?”

“I mean… No, it was cool.” Breck rubbed his head and chuckled. “Just drank too much and paid the price.”

“You do that a lot, I’m noticing.”

Breck shot him a look, then gestured to himself. “Hello. Frat boy. Besides, I think I earned the right to celebrate. I’ve only just graduated college.”

Kai nodded. “I agree. That was a huge accomplishment. And most definitely deserves something special in honor of the occasion. But you drink yourself into oblivion nearly every day. So how exactly is that special?”

Breck scowled and looked away. “The point is… I was doing something I enjoy in celebration. Also known as partying.”

Kai shrugged. “Fair enough.” Not a philosophy he subscribed to, nor a perspective he found attractive. But again, Breck wasn’t a prospect... He took a bite. “So, was Scott there? With Tad?”

Breck seemed to ease. “Yeah. He was designated driver… I like that guy.” He smiled. “He’s good for Tad. I hope they stick.”

“Me, too.” And Kai meant it. He’d known Scott for years, but he’d never seen him as happy as he was now, with Tad. “What about Ned?” he ventured next. “Did he bring a date?”

Breck coughed out a laugh. “Hell, no. That would’ve defeated his whole agenda for the night.”

“Ah. He likes to play the field.”

“Yeah.” Breck grinned, shaking his head. A very clear fondness emanated from his eyes.

Kai regarded him. “You two are close.”

“Since the start of high school.”

Kai did the math. College VIP out on the town with his closest friend. Both handsome as hell, getting overly drunk—no doubt, with a throng of equally inebriated women. “You two must’ve had quite a time juggling all the ladies.”

Shameless fishing, but Breck had just done the same.

Breck shrugged a little. “It’s easier to keep a low profile with this group of friends.”

Kai chuckled, determined to sound indifferent, even though his insides felt anything but calm. “And that means what, you scored slightly less than you typically would? On graduation night? I find that hard to believe. Or maybe you fuck even more than you drink, so it’s not all that special.”

Breck stiffened. “Bite me. I didn’t get laid.”

Kai quirked a brow. “Not even a quickie in the bathroom or something?”

“Oh.” Breck laughed sardonically. “You mean, like what you did with Scott?”

Kai stilled, then threw on a poker face. “That wasn’t what you thought.”

“Right.” Breck’s following laugh sounded strained. “’Cause there’s just so many things two guys can do in a stall.”

“I told you, I was showing him something.”

“Uh huh.” Breck leveled him with a look. “Something down your pants. Man, you were zipping up your fly. Correct me if I’m wrong but, aside from underwear, there’s only one thing down there. Something you said was exceptionally large and”—he made finger quotes—“exotic.”

Kai laughed, remembering Breck’s reaction. Deliciously exasperated. And so adorably flustered. He’d wanted to eat him up. “While what you’re assuming it was is all those things, what I was referring to wasn’t that.”

Breck’s expression said ‘do I look like an idiot?’

Kai smiled, amused, and shook his head. “It’s a tattoo.”

Breck stilled. Then lifted his brows. “Wait. Are you serious?”

Kai grinned. “I offered to show you.” He reached for his waistband. “And that offer still stands.”

Breck shook his head, tamping a laugh, and averted his gaze.

Kai sighed dramatically. “Alas, your loss. It’s quite the masterpiece.”

“Uh huh,” Breck mumbled. “A sight to behold.” His cheeks looked flushed.

Kai wondered if he was envisioning a peek down his pants.

His body tightened as he envisioned that, too. He could all but feel Breck’s smoldering gaze sliding over his dick...

Tugging on his collar, he reached for his tea. “What else did you do this weekend?”

Breck took another bite, but then frowned. “Went to my parents’,” he muttered, chewing. “That was fun.”

“You don’t get along?”

“It’s not that. My dad’s just… relentless. Like some nightmarish manager that I can’t fucking fire.”

Kai frowned. “My condolences.”

“Thanks.” Breck exhaled. And for a moment, it looked like he was going to vent. At the very last second though, he seemed to stop himself. “Anyway, then I hung out with Ned at the fitness facility. Playing racquetball.” His tone sounded grim. “Which was damn near as torturous as my visit with Dad.”

Kai laughed. “Why? I thought you liked sports.”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t feeling so hot.”

Kai frowned. He’d gotten drunk on Saturday, too? “Your poor liver.”

Breck shot him a glare. “Really? You’re gonna ride my ass like my old fucking man?”

Kai held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

Breck clenched his jaw, then closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Sorry. I’m being a dick. I’m just… God, so stressed out all the time.” He met Kai’s gaze and feigned a half-hearted smile. “My liver’s great. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Kai nodded and resumed his meal.

Silence lingered. But then he sensed it; Breck’s tension dissipating as his headspace cleared.

His gaze slid back and settled on Kai’s face, those eyes like pools of chocolate reflecting the evening sun. Seeping in and filling Kai’s chest. Inundating his soul. Which shouldn’t make sense. Breck shouldn’t affect him so completely. But in this moment, Kai couldn’t find a reason to care. He’d relish the sensation while it lasted, then let it go.

Breck cleared his throat. “So, that guy you moved to New York with… Why’d he bail?”

Kai slowed in his chewing. Not exactly a subject he wanted to discuss.

“I mean, it doesn’t add up,” Breck continued. “Didn’t he know?”

“Didn’t he know what?”

Breck grinned and held his gaze. “That hot as fuck Japanese-Brazilians don’t come along every day.”

Kai quirked a brow. Put down his chopsticks. Cast him a look. “Are you fetishizing me?”

Breck stilled, then tensed all over. “Shit. God, no,” he sputtered. “I—”

“I’m kidding,” Kai laughed. “And thank you kindly. That was quite the compliment.”

Another of those smiles tugged at the corner of Breck’s lips. Just like that, the air between them settled back to easy.

“In all seriousness, though... What happened?” Breck asked again. “Between you and your man. How come it didn’t work out?”

“Hmm.” Kai looked away. Did he want to explain? Not really. But Breck had been open about his life. It seemed only fair. Formulating his words carefully, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Let’s just say that… with Ryan… ambition became a double-edged sword.”

Breck frowned, clearly not understanding. And Kai really had no desire whatsoever to elaborate. All things considered, there was a very real chance that Breck would end up taking Ryan’s side. If that was the case, he supposed it was better to hear it now, instead of down the road.

“Ryan wanted to be a model,” he began, “so New York City was the place to be. He kept bugging me to go with him, and though I didn’t want to, I finally did. We got moved in. A tiny place in Manhattan. In the beginning, it was cool. I didn’t mind it. But then he started coming home later and later after modeling class. After-hours parties every night of the week. At first, he’d bring me, too… but then… not so much. He started making headway, getting noticed, landing gigs. I was so fucking proud of him… but then he stopped taking me to his public events. One night, I came home early from work… and found him in our bed with two of his model friends.”

Kai feigned a smile. “Ryan hadn’t loved me. I’d merely been his support system as he climbed his way to the top.” He chuckled darkly. “That and the total dumbass willing to shoulder all the rent. I’d been happy to do it, though. Ryan was paying for schooling. I’d thought we were a team, but looking back…” He shrugged. “Everything had always revolved around him. We hadn’t been building our future together, he’d been building his.”

Breck didn’t respond for a long, quiet moment.

Kai’s stomach clenched. He’d said too much. Should’ve kept his mouth shut and—

“That dude,” Breck stated, “is a fucking idiot.”

Kai eyed him, heart clenching in his chest. Breck didn’t seem to be sympathizing with Ryan at all. Was it possible he wasn’t like him?

Kai offered a smile. “JΕ«nin toiro. Ten persons, ten colors.” When Breck stared at him blankly, he laughed. “A Japanese expression. Means to each their own.”

“Oh… Yeah, I guess,” Breck muttered.

“Besides, at the end of the day, it taught me a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, that I’m better off without him.”

Breck liked that answer, going by the smile on his face. “I’d have to agree.” He took another bite—then abruptly moaned. “Goddamn. This salmon.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Fuckin’ melts in your mouth.”

Kai grinned and picked his chopsticks back up. “Next time, I’ll make you sushi.”

Breck slid him a look, something glinting in his eyes, as if maybe he liked the idea of there being a next time. “Sushi, huh? I’m detecting you’re big on seafood.”

“I am.”

“Well, FYI, I’m not a fan of uncooked fish.”

“Ever try it?”

“Nope. And I don’t ever plan to.”

Kai laughed. “I’ll start you off with something tame.”

Breck smiled. “As long as tame equates to the opposite of raw.”

The rest of their meal maintained the same easy energy—with Kai steadfastly resisting every urge to poke the bear. Because while Breck was entertaining as hell when flustered, he was far more attractive when he donned that smile. Besides, Kai had gotten another glimpse of him and was beginning to understand the reasons behind his short fuse. Breck was struggling under enormous pressure, his relationship with his dad only exacerbating his stress. The one person on this planet who shouldn’t be making his problems worse. And with that, Kai now found himself wanting to be Breck’s haven of peace.

Once they finished, Kai briskly cleaned up, then headed to the shelving unit and lit some incense. Sandalwood. Breck watched him with an air of anticipation, as if recalling how, at the start of their last session, Kai had begun things in the exact same way.

A prelude of sorts. And he’d be right.

Kai couldn’t stop the memories from surging back into his brain. Of Breck, bound and writhing. And then his beautiful release. He’d been so sublime. A gorgeous young male in his sexual prime. Blindfolded and panting, muscles taut, with his head cranked back. If only he knew what Kai had planned for him tonight. It’d make Friday’s little tryst look like a walk in the park.

Breck could handle it, though. Kai was confident.

And yet, there was only one way to find out if he’d enjoy it.

Meeting Breck’s gaze, Kai gestured toward the living room. “Time to begin.” He smiled wryly. “You ready for dessert?”



Saturday Series Spotlight
Courtside King Duology




Kora Knight

Kora Knight, endeavoring to share with the world her impassioned stories of love, adventure, and sensual wonderment, her most recent delight being that of m/m erotic romance. Having just finished the paranormal romance, Forbidden, she will be continuing on with a handful of other projects, including the second novel-length spin-off to the Upending Tad series, featuring Breck and Kai.

Come visit her on any of her social media sites!


EMAIL: koraknight14@gmail.com


Dungeon Black Duology

Courtside King Duology