Working Jerusalem

About Working Jerusalem

Author: BA Tortuga 

Word Count: 56000

Page Count (pdf): 236

ISBN: 978-1-942831-91-4

Price: .99 for a limited time

Pairing: MM

Genre: BDSM

Date Published: 09*06*2019

Publisher:  Turtlehat Creatives

Heat Rating: 

File Types available: epub, pdf, mobi

Summary:

Buttoned-down and somewhat repressed lawyer JD desperately wants to break free of the closet and explore his love life… and coffee shop owner Todd is just the man to take him on a wild ride through pleasure, need, and his most secret desires. Maybe even love.

Todd and JD go together better than coffee and pastry, they must get tackle JD’s issues, Todd’s worries about his old life, and confront the homophobic boss who wants to keep JD under his thumb before they can sample the sweet, sexy delights waiting for them.

Excerpt: 

Chapter One

Todd McPhie loved the coffee shop business. He really did. The smell of coffee made him happy, the people were five-minute friends, and the voyeurism factor was huge.

Friday evening at the Jerusalem Coffee Company was like the McDonald’s of hipster neuroses. Supersized drama for all. The clientele Todd catered to tended toward closet cases or leather daddies, with little wiggle room in between, and watching the two factions dance around each other fascinated him.

Especially since they were all so desperate to hook up.

His barista, Victor, grinned over at him, shaking his head while foaming a skim milk double shot mocha caramel something. “What do you want to bet that Mr. Cinnamon Bun and Two Creams hooks up with Mr. Soy Chai Cardamom?”

Todd shook his head, watching Victor’s earrings bob. “No bets. Mr. Bun wants to beat Mr. Chai until he’s bloody.”

Victor hooted, swirling a little heart into the foam. “Oh yeah. You know, boss, it’s been a while since you tanned someone.”

Todd let Victor get away with shit like that because the guy had been with him since he opened and all he could pay was the meager tips they got. No one else was allowed to comment on Todd’s personal life. Or lack thereof.

He shook his head mournfully, giving Victor a fake-as-hell hangdog look. “I scare ’em all off to the ski slopes, honey. But thanks for thinking of me.”

“Anything for you, boss.”

Todd headed to the floor to clean some tables, rolling up the sleeves of his turtleneck and pondering on how it might be time to hire some more help. With Alan quitting, he was short-handed, and that left him little time to play.

He chatted with a couple of regulars, working his way around the joint. Most everyone was heading out of Denver to enjoy the last breath of summer weather—Idaho Springs or Vail; one guy was heading to the Western Slope to hang in Glenwood. When he got to the tiny corner in the back, all he saw were stacks of books and papers, a faded ball cap, and a regular mug a quarter full on the wood.

Okay. Working? On a Friday?

Now that was a novelty. Todd made his way over, peering into the depths of the booth. “You need a refill?”

“Hmm?” The brim of that cap lifted, a pair of big bright blue eyes meeting his, electric enough that they sparked.

Lord, that was pretty. Suddenly even more intrigued, Todd gestured to the mostly empty cup. “A refill. What’s your poison?”

“Boring old black coffee, thank you.” The voice had a drawl to it, smooth as fucking silk. That pen hung in the air, the man’s gaze clinging to his.

He reached for the guy’s mug, leaning across the table far enough to let his shirt pull tight across his chest. Hell, he wasn’t above flirting hard when someone was this pretty. “Cool. I’ll be right back. Don’t run off.”

“My ride’s trying desperately to get a blow job from the little blond twink with the glittery eye shadow. I’ll be right here.”