Christian Read online

  Christian

  Daddy Boys: Book One

  Sean Michael

  Contents

  Christian — Daddy Boys: Book One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Want more?

  About the Author

  Coming Soon from Sean Michael

  The Hammer Boys Reading Order

  The Box of Nails Reading Order

  Iron Eagle Gym Reading Order

  Between Friends Reading Order

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

  Daddy Boys: Christian

  Copyright 2020 by Sean Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Sean Michael, 2515 Bank St., P.O. Box 40001, Ottawa, ON, K1V 0W8.

  Cover by Alexandria Corza

  Printed in Canada

  ISBN: 978-1-77423-055-8

  First electronic edition March 2020

  Created with Vellum

  Christian — Daddy Boys: Book One

  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.

  Chapter One

  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, tho
se 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. “Okay. You’re clean. Let’s get food into you and water. Lots and lots of water.”

  “Lots of water, huh? Okay, if you say so.” He personally thought he would throw up if he tried to drink.

  Salem leaned past him and turned off the flow of water, then dragged him out of the shower and began to dry him off, towel rough as it dragged over his skin.

  “Fuck, careful of the nipple, huh?”

  Jerusalem grunted. “It’s not infected, is it?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I took the other one out.”

  Jerusalem bent and tsked. “It is infected. I’m going to take it out too. You can have new ones when you’ve earned them.”

  Earned them? What the fuck did that mean? “It’ll hurt. Just leave it.”

  “Leaving it in is going to hurt more than taking it out, Chrissy.” Jerusalem opened the ring, then just like that he tugged it out. “Damn it, this needs doctoring.”

  “Ow! Fuck, man!” He panted, trying hard not to puke.

  “Stay put. I’m getting the Polysporin.” Salem went to the cabinet and pulled out a few things before coming back. “I’m going to have to clean it out and it’s not going to be pleasant, but if I don’t, it’s just going to get worse and you’re going to go septic.”

  “It’s just a nipple.” He looked down at it, wincing. “Oh fuck.”

  “Yeah, it’s nasty.” The first thing Salem did was ball up a bit of gauze and press it against his nipple. Puss came out, the gauze soaking it up. It ached, but it wasn’t too harsh.

  He lifted his head, panting softly. “It’s been a shitty fucking day, man.”

  “Yeah, I bet. It’s getting better, though.” Salem continued to clean out his nipple, then he applied a whole bunch of Polysporin and covered the whole thing with a band-aid.

  Christian just wanted to cry. “Thanks, man. You’re good to me.”

  “Shh. Let me play doctor.” Salem made one more trip to the medicine cabinet and came back with a little bottle of painkillers. Two were shaken out and handed over to him. “Advil.”

  “Thank you.” He took them dry, wincing as he swallowed.

  Shaking his head, Jerusalem filled up the glass by the sink and offered it over. “You don’t have to shoot it back, but you should try to get as much of it down as you can manage.”

  He nodded and drank deep, and he could feel the splash of the water on his belly. It didn’t make him hurl, though, and that was a plus.

  Salem slipped from the room for a moment, coming back with a pair of robes, one of which was passed over to him.

  “Thank you.” He wrapped it around him with a quiet little sigh. “Oh, that’s lovely and warm.”

  “And soft. Because yes, I’m a hedonist.” Jerusalem gave him a wink and put an arm around his shoulders. “Food now. Bacon, eggs, toast. Maybe some brown beans—I’m pretty sure I have a can somewhere.”

  “You don’t have to spoil me.” He snuggled in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

  “You’re welcome. And you need someone to take care of you.” Salem led him to the kitchen and sat him down at one of the stools pulled up to the island.

  “I’m just having a hard few…decades.” Hell, he was thirty and had been floundering hard.

  Salem snorted, then laughed outright. “At least you still have your sense of humor.”

  “Yeah. I do.” And that was it. He looked at his hands, at his torn-up chewed fingernails. Tomorrow, he would…what? Leave his suitcase here, sell his laptop, and just start hitchhiking across the country? Maybe he should.

  “Things will look better after food, sleep, and when you aren’t hung over.” Salem pulled food out of the fridge and pans from their cupboards. The stove was soon a bevvy of activity.

  “If—could I leave my case here with you tomorrow?”

  “Are you going somewhere?” Salem asked, voice very neutral.

  “I don’t know. I thought…maybe I could hawk everything and…I don’t know, maybe I should hitch a ride with a trucker, head west. See if I can get my head cut off and thrown out the window?”

  “That’s not funny, Chrissy. You’re staying here.”

  “And do what? Lose another job because I smoke?”

  “To start with, you’ll spend some time figuring out what you want from life. And are you sure you were fired because you smoke? Or because you broke the rules to smoke?”

  “What does it matter? I got fired anyway.” He didn’t love rules, and he tended to break them whenever he could.

  “Yeah, you did. But you’re not making anything easy on yourself, are you?” Salem dealt with bacon and toast. “Over easy good?”

  “Thank you.” What was he supposed to say? He was a fuckup.

  “I think you should stay here and let me take care of you for a while. Let me guide you through some soul-searching, and help you find out what you really want out of life.” Salem flipped the eggs, then took them off the pan and put them on their plates.

  “You’re kind.” And a bit of a softy, really.

  “You may not still think so in a few days when I start making rules.” Salem added bacon and toast to the plates before ladling a spoonful of beans onto each. One of the plates was set down in front of him.

  “No one’s cooked for me since…” He shrugged. Probably since Salem had last fed him.

  “No, and no one’s taken care of you in all that time, too, I imagine.” Sitting next to him, Salem grabbed his fork. “Say you’ll stay, then eat your breakfast.”

  “I’ll stay the night. Day. To sleep. I need to sleep, huh?” He wasn’t making sense in his own fucking head.

  Salem growled softly but put a fork in his hand. “So eat. We’ll discuss your idea that you only need to stay a day after you’ve napped.”

  “You have to go in to the office? Is that still a thing for you?” Salem was like a super-IT whiz or something.

  “Nope. I’m an independent operator these days. I work from home—when inspiration hits.” Salem smiled around his mouthful of egg and bacon. “I’ve done okay for myself.”

  “You have.” Yet another reason to leave, for fuck’s sake.

  Salem leaned over, focus on his mouth, and slid a finger just above the right side of his lip. That finger was warm and the touch made his lip tingle. “You had a toast crumb.”

  “Sorry.” He licked his lips, staring at Salem. God, the son of a bitch was beautiful.

  Broad shoulders that tapered into a trim waist, Salem had firm muscles from his shoulders to his thighs, with an amazing six-pack in between. His blond hair topped blue-blue eyes and high cheekbones. Even the crow’s feet that were beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes made him more attractive.

  “You’re perfect. You—How can you not be married yet?”

  “Nobody’s perfect. And I haven’t captured the right guy yet.” Salem dragged his bread through the yolk left
on the plate and munched it.

  “You will. You’ll find your perfect half.”

  “I’m sure I will. The question will be if I can convince him that he belongs with me.”

  Right, because Mr. Perfect would have an issue. “You can convince anyone of anything.”

  Salem tilted his head, then nodded. “I hope so. I really do.”

  “You find the guy, I’ll tell him you’re amazing, okay?”

  Salem just laughed softly and nudged their shoulders together. “You’ll have to stick around to do that, so no more talk about taking off and hitchhiking around the world, okay?”

  “Not right now. I’m looking for a safe haven for a little bit.” Just a touch.

  “And you’ve got it here.” Salem seemed pleased by his reply. “You should take a nap and if you’re up in time, you can work out with me.”

  “Work out? You’re still doing that?” Christ. Crazy bastard.

  “It’s more important than ever. We’re not young bucks anymore.” Salem patted his belly. “Gotta keep the six-packs up.”

  “Yeah. You do that.” He lived on cigarettes, booze, and coffee. It was a great diet.

  “Come on.” Salem held a hand out to him and tugged him off his stool when he took it.

  He cuddled into Salem’s side for another hug. “Oh, you’re warm.”

  “You always were cold.” Salem squeezed him, not seeming inclined to let go anytime soon.

  “I’m always…” He yawned, letting Salem walk him through the house.

  He didn’t realize Salem had led back him to the master until he was being ushered into the bed.

  “Salem? You—” He yawned huge, his jaw popping. “You sure?”

  “The guest room bed isn’t made up.” Salem pushed him down and tugged the covers up around him.