Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology 2)

He didn’t say his brother was already getting on his last nerve.

“Sev, he’s just a kid.”

“He’s a grown man. He’s older than Minnow.”

“He’s alone in the world.”

Rodrigo put his hand on Severin’s shoulder, and Sev knocked it away, ignoring the flash of hurt in his friend’s eyes.

“He’s annoying.”

Rodrigo snorted, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. “You think everyone is annoying.”

“This is different.”

“Sev, he’s part of your family.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to hang out with him. It doesn’t mean I want him living in my goddamned house.”

The breeze kicked up, drying the sweat in his hair and on his skin. Rodrigo’s tattoos gleamed in the sun. His body was a sculpted, masculine work of art, and Severin forced himself not to admire him.

Rodrigo shoved his shoulder, chuckling. “You’d just love that wouldn’t you? For all of us to get out of your hair and leave you alone.”

Severin shoved him back irritably.

“What? Not going to deny it?” Rodrigo came at him again, bumping chests with him, mock menacing. Not qu

ite as tall as Severin, Ro had a lower center of gravity. Severin actually had to fall back a step before adjusting his stance.

“I have no problem with you and Minnow being here.” He pushed Rodrigo back with his chest, their sweat-slicked skin sliding together. He had a brief flash of the way Rodrigo’s body felt when they accidentally slid together when they shared Minnow. He forced the thought away, but not before his body started to respond.

“Aww. I knew you felt all warm and fuzzy about me, you big bastard.” He lunged upward and tried to get Severin in a headlock, but he ducked just in time, dropping to a crouch and sweeping Rodrigo’s feet with a leg. Rodrigo hit the lawn hard, a whoosh of air escaping his lungs, and he had no time to react before Severin was on him. He flipped him onto his stomach. Rodrigo struggled, and they wrestled around on the ground, having trouble getting a good hold on each other as sweat dripped in the hot afternoon sun.

Gasping for breath, Rodrigo stopped fighting. Severin had basically rolled him into a ball and had him pinned, holding his wrists wrenched up high behind his back, forehead pressed to the grass. As soon as Ro stopped fighting, having his crotch pressed against his ass seemed less like innocent sparring.

He let go of Rodrigo as if he’d caught fire, hoping his erection went away before it was noticed.

Laughing, Rodrigo rolled onto his side, and propped his head on his hand, flashing Severin a dazzling smile. “It’s good you know enough to quit when you’ve been beaten.”

Severin forced a smile and made sure not to edge away even though he wanted to put more distance between them. It was hard to find a sitting position that seemed casual that also disguised his idiot boner. Sharing Minnow with Rodrigo all the time was making Severin associate him with sex too much.

“Oh, you think you beat me?” Severin mocked.

“You gave up. That means I win.”

“Nice try, bitch.” He shoved Rodrigo with his foot and his friend rolled onto his back. “What was I supposed to do? Beat you? Choke you out?”

Rodrigo gazed up at him with sexy, lazy interest. “Well now you’re just flirting.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, you fucking pervert.”

“I’m a pervert, but you’re chickenshit.”

He was on Ro before he could stop himself, straddling his hips, his hand on his throat. Rodrigo’s dark eyes burned with lust and challenge. When Severin froze, Ro tried to shove him off, but he only tightened his grip.

“Now you know why this can’t happen.”

Rodrigo’s breathing was labored, and he trembled. “And you know you could break me in half if I ever did something you didn’t like. You’re not a helpless little boy anymore.”