Christian Jax is a self-confessed loser. He drinks, he smokes, he can’t keep a job, and he has no idea what he wants to do with his life. When he finds himself not only jobless but homeless as well, he shows up drunk and down at his oldest friend’s house, hoping to be able to crash for the night and just hide for twenty-four hours.
Jerusalem Fuller has it all together. He’s made himself a good life; he has his own company, his own house, and has a wonderful group of friends who are into the same Daddy kink that he is. In fact, he’s been learning how to be the best Daddy he can be in the hopes that the man he loves will come home to him.
When Christian shows up on his doorstep, Jerusalem takes him in, hoping that this time Christian will stay and they can have a life with each other. Jerusalem is going to have to be patient, though, and help Christian see that he has value and that he’s worthy of Jerusalem’s love. If they do the work, they just might find their happily ever after together.
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Excerpt:
Christian Jax threw the
taxi driver some money and stumbled out of the cab, praying that he’d
remembered Jerusalem’s address. He was three sheets to the wind, he had a
suitcase and his laptop, and he needed a friend.
He fumbled his phone out
of his jeans and sat on his suitcase, dialing his oldest and dearest friend for
help. Again.
God, he’d been doing
okay, mostly. He’d been waiting tables for rent money while he tried to figure
out what to do with his graphic design degree. He’d been holding it together,
and then Scott Marker said that he’d stolen tips—he hadn’t—and that he’d smoked
with the busboys behind the cafe—he had. Hank had lost his shit and fired him.
Fucking fired him!
“Assholes. They’re all
assholes.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Jerusalem’s voice came from his phone.
“Shit. Sorry. Fuck. It’s
Christian. I’m— What’s up?”
“Christian? You tell me
what’s up—you called me, remember? Are you drunk?”
“A little bit. Maybe a
lot. I got fired and thrown out of my flat. I—can I surf on your sofa? Just a
night? Please?” God, he hated begging, but he didn’t want to waste his cash on
a hostel.
“Of course you can.
Fired and thrown out? Shit, boy, that’s harsh. You’ll have to tell me all about
it when I come get you. Where are you?”
“Uh…I sorta hope I’m at
your front door?” He thought he was. If he wasn’t…well then, he was fucked.
“Sorta… Jesus, Chrissy.”
The front door of the house he was in front of opened, Jerusalem standing
there, phone in one hand. Jerusalem shook his head and came down the front
walk.
“Hey, Salem.” Christian
stood up and tripped over his laptop, crashing to the ground. “Fuck.”
Salem grunted and then
the man was right there by his side, picking him up from the ground. “Come on,
Chrissy. Let’s get you inside and sobered up, hmm?”
He hated being called
Chrissy. “Sorry. Sorry, buddy. I’m just having a really fucking bad day, you
know?”
“Yeah, I can see that.
Come on in. A shower. Eggs and bacon with toast. You’ll sleep it off if you
have to and then we’ll talk.” Salem’s hand was solid around his arm, warm,
sure.
“Yeah. Yeah, you rock. I
always could count on you.” Salem had been his first kiss, his first blowjob,
his first fight, his first damn near everything. They were terrible together,
but it had been wonderful.
“Don’t thank me yet,
boy. Staying here isn’t going to be free.” They went in and Salem closed the
door behind them. The house was warm and inviting and smelled like Salem.
“Just one night. I just
need a sofa. I’ll be gone in the morning, I swear.” He didn’t need a lecture.
He was a loser. He knew it. Salem was so not.
“And where exactly are
you going? Also? It’s already morning. Asscrack of dawn morning, but morning
nonetheless.” Salem walked him down the hall, then through what had to be the
master bedroom and into a stunning bathroom with the biggest shower he’d ever
seen.
“Wow.”
Salem turned the lights
on, and Christian covered his eyes.
“Fuck! Turn them off,
man!”
“No.” Salem pulled away
his hand and put a couple fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and
looking into his eyes. “What are you fucked up on?”
“Stop. It don’t matter.
I needed to get the edge off.” He pulled away, stumbling across the bathroom.
“Hey.” Salem caught him
before he could fall flat and bang his face on the floor, tugging him up
against all those solid muscles. “Of course it matters. You matter.”
“Right. If we weren’t
old friends, you wouldn’t think so.” He held on for a second. “I was doing
okay. I had a room, a crap job.”
Salem let him stay right
there. “So what happened?”
“I got into a fight with
this asshole, and I got caught smoking in the back of the house, and the guys
were tired of me being late with the rent.” He sighed. “I swear to God, I
didn’t start it.”
Salem just shook his head.
“Ah, Chrissy. What am I going to do with you?”
“Let me sleep on the
couch and shake your head sadly when I go.” He knew how this worked.
“No, I don’t think
that’s how it’s going to work this time. But first things first, shower time.” Salem
began to tug off his clothing.
He had a couple of
shitty tattoos now that he hadn’t before, a nipple ring, and a bunch of scars,
but he didn’t think he looked all that different than always.
Salem didn’t comment on
any of it, only stripped him down, then put him into the shower. The water was
hot, beating down on him. He sighed softly, leaning hard against the tile.
Oh. Better. So much better.
To his utter shock, he
felt Salem’s hands on him, soaping him up.
“Salem?” He groaned,
half-convinced that he was hallucinating.
“Shh. You’re dirty,
you’re hung over, you’re exhausted, and down on your luck. Let me take care of
you—it’s what I do.”
“You don’t have to,
buddy.” But it felt so good, so sweet, to be cared for a bit.
“Stop arguing with me
already.” Salem just kept washing him and damn, those big hands were amazing.
He melted, holding on so
that he didn’t fall over. God, he could stay here forever. The water kept
beating down on him, Salem solid for him and letting him stay long after the
soap had been washed away.
Salem was broad, tall,
and made him feel cared for, adored.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Salem
murmured. “You need to drink a boatload of water first.”
“You’re so warm, man. So
fine.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a
stud.” The words weren’t a boast. They were spoken in a self-deprecating
manner.
“I always thought so.”
A soft kiss dropped onto
the top of his head. “Thank you, Chrissy. And I always thought you were worth
more than you ever believed you were.”
“Christian, Jerry,” he
teased.
Jerusalem grumbled at
him. “I could just make you call me Daddy.”
“Butthead. You’re
something else.” He shook his head and sighed. “Thank you for letting me in.”
“You know you can come to
me.” Salem had always been there for him. No matter how he’d screwed up, he
could always turn to Salem. Sean
smut fixes everything
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