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Kai cocked a brow. Something glinted in his eyes. “I suppose you do.” He pulled out his cell phone, unlocked it, then handed it over. “Add your contact info.”

Breck stilled. He hadn’t meant that literally. A figure of speech and shit, but whatever. He punched in his digits.

Kai took his phone back and slid him a smile, then opened his garage door and gestured for Breck to get out. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch… when I need to collect.”

— FIFTEEN —

Hey, Kai. Hate to do this on such short notice but a family emergency has come up and I won’t be able to make it to your place this afternoon or for the demonstration later at DD. Really sorry. Was looking forward to it. Definitely next time.

Kai frowned at the text from his rope model, Jacob. Not great news and, honestly, terrible timing. He was teaching Shibari at Dom District tonight—which wasn’t to be confused with the exhibitions he sometimes hosted there. This was a class involving actual students and, whenever possible, he liked to practice his new ideas ahead of time.

The conception stage always involved a bit of improvising, occasions where he had to backtrack, undo things, and try a different route. Shibari was intuitive like that. Raw, organic. Pure imaginative expression. But unlike paint on a canvas, all his ‘brush strokes’ could be easily reworked. Just untie a knot here, pull a cord free there, then resume in a different direction.

At any rate, he needed a rope model. Someone to rehearse on. And he needed them soon. His gig started at nine, and practice sessions typically took a couple of hours. He glanced at the time on his cell. It was already four. Granted, on a normal day, that’d be plenty of time, but God only knew how long it’d take him to find a replacement.

“Fuck,” he muttered, scrolling through his contacts. He couldn’t ask just anyone for a favor like this. They had to be familiar—and comfortable—with bondage. Preferably someone he knew from The District specifically; less questions he’d have to answer regarding the details of his little side hobby.

He messaged his backup models...

Kyle was already booked.

Zink didn’t respond. Was probably ‘indisposed.’

He texted a fellow instructor…

Jeb had a class in thirty minutes.

He tried some Doms.

Chaz and Roger had shit going on. Liam was benched with a messed-up shoulder.

Kai cursed under his breath. Time to change tactics.

He reached out to some of the District’s regular clients.

CJ was on a date.

Nova and Remi were getting ready to start a scene.

Remi, however, could be Kai’s model for his class later at nine. Great news, but Kai still had no one to practice on.

“Damn it,” he muttered. He really needed a dry run.

He resumed skimming through his contacts.

Scrolling… Scrolling…

His thumb stopped.

He stared at the screen.

King Breck.

He’d almost forgotten that he’d gotten his number.

He eyed the name Breck had entered for himself.

Forever arrogant. Seriously, who did shit like that?

His lips quirked. That college kid was one of a kind. And yet he always managed to amuse Kai and make him smile. Which made no sense. Breck was haughty and rude. Regrettably, he was also endearing and ridiculously beautiful.

In truth, Kai still couldn’t believe he’d accepted a ride from him the other night. He’d expected him to glower at his offer and walk away. Kai had, after all, turned down his advances in their previous encounter.

Absently, his gaze drifted to the window. Their conversation in his car had been surprising, too. They’d been civil. Breck had even apologized and shown real remorse for having taken that cheap shot. Something that, in truth, went a long way in improving Kai’s impression of the guy.

He’d actually seen several things about Breck that night that he’d never detected before. For one, Breck had looked utterly exhausted, like he could benefit from an entire week straight of sleep. But there’d also been a look in his eyes, a subtle little glint when they’d been parked outside of his building. Contemplation. Like Breck had been mulling things over. Things that Kai had a feeling pertained specifically to him. And yet, there’d been no agitation or accompanying scowl.

The implications of that had kindled a spark inside Kai’s chest that he hadn’t been prepared for. Next thing he knew, he was asking Breck for his contact information. And now, ironically, here Kai stood, in a predicament with phone in hand, eyeing that very information. As if it was fate.

He rubbed his mouth.

Should he do it? Cash in on Breck’s favor?

Not that Breck really owed him, but he could genuinely use the help.

His body stirred at the notion. Would Breck even agree to it? And what if he did? What repercussions would that bring? The last thing he needed was to cross some irrevocable line. To get more involved with Breck wouldn’t be wise. The draw between them was unstable at best, and he didn’t typically play with fire. But this favor would assuredly stoke the flames between them that much higher. Because for one: bare skin was always involved. A ton of it. And two: there’d be a whole lot of touching.


Tags: Kora Knight The Courtside King Romance