GENRE: Gay Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 80,091 words
RATING:

Who would have thought a panicked job candidate would turn Axel’s world upside down? Sure, Kienan is attractive, and the fact that he and Axel’s daughter hit it off instantly only fuels the undeniable chemistry between them. But that’s all it is -- chemistry. Something Axel can ignore.

After all, he’s single but not exactly lonely. There’s always Laceboy_69, the cam boy whose videos help him deal with certain ... needs. It’s a simple arrangement, no strings, no complications

But what happens when Axel discovers Kienan and Laceboy_69 are the same person? Worse, Kienan has secrets. He’s on the run from a messy, possibly dangerous ex, and whatever he's hiding might drag Axel right into the middle of it.

Can Axel resist the pull, or will the tempting young guy -- both on-screen and off -- be his downfall?

Trigger warnings: this story contains sexual coercion/dubious consent (not by MCs), narcissistic and emotionally abusive ex-partner, non-cheating relationship history, gaslighting (not by MCs), trauma, blackmail (not by MCs), and unprotected sex.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

When the young, attractive candidate sitting across from me cringes at my question, I’m surprised that a flicker of guilt runs through me. Clearly, I’ve hit a nerve by asking what he’s been up to these past few months -- but how was I supposed to know? It’s my job to ask about gaps in a résumé, even if the answers aren’t always easy.

In many cases, a gap doesn’t have to be a dealbreaker. It only needs to be explained -- which seems to be precisely Kienan Frost’s problem, given that he’s been silent for several long seconds, just staring at me. But he’s young and has spent most of his life in a small town, which could mean he’s inexperienced in job interviews. At least he dressed for the occasion, wearing a white button-up shirt and beige trousers, so that’s something. Plus, he arrived on time, which can’t be said for everyone. Maybe I should give him a better chance.

“Relax,” I tell him. “Many people have gaps in their resumes; it’s not necessarily an issue -- unless you were in jail or something.” I flash him a smile, hoping it will help him relax. When he lets out a soft breath, I’m relieved to see that my efforts worked, even if only to a point. He still looks tense.

But then, his following words explain why.

“I’m kind of running from someone,” he says, his breath quickening, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Someone in Detroit. He’s still there and doesn’t know I’m here in Chicago. I need things to stay that way. I need ...”

Those dark brown eyes peer straight into my soul, large and wide with alarm. His facial features are symmetric and attractive, with a pair of full lips that are now parted from his slightly faster breathing. I look at him, almost transfixed, because I have never had a candidate like him: one so closed, yet so open, so young, yet with so many untold stories behind those eyes. For several seconds, I forget what questions I’m supposed to ask and can only wonder how he’ll continue this talk with me.

As it turns out, it’s another thing I didn’t expect.

Without warning, his hand shoots across the table, gripping mine tightly. “I really, really need this job,” he says. “As a new start. I might not be your best or most experienced candidate, but I’m probably the most desperate, which ...” He falls silent, swallowing, perhaps doubting his words. “Which has to count for something, right?” he finishes softly. But when he speaks up again, his voice is stronger. “I’ll work hard, I promise. Please.”

I blink slowly. This is all highly unusual, and perhaps it should even be enough reason for me to send him away. Instead, I glance at his hand, wondering why it’s on mine and why part of me likes it there. But the second he follows my gaze, he draws it back as though my touch has burned him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strongly, especially during the first meeting.” He tucks his hand underneath the table, telling me he was surprised by it himself. “I’m just really nervous because I have a lot riding on this. I can’t go back to Detroit. I can’t.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of what I've just heard. Maybe anyone else in my shoes would make a different decision, but that’s one of the perks of being a manager.

I’m the one who gets to decide.