Jeff has hired on as the manager of the house owners Dev and Barney are trying to create for the servers at the Hammer Club, and dealing with all those twinks is like herding cats. Still, he loves his new job, which is partly due to meeting hot, interesting sub, Paul.
Paul is Devvie's best friend, a bartender at the Hammer Club, and a sweet little bottom. He believes he breaks Doms, though, so when he falls for Jeff, he figures the best thing he can do is stay away. Jeff won't let him hide, and soon they're seeing each other, despite Paul's worries.
Can Jeff and Paul overcome the past and make a life together?
Jeff opened the sliding door of his beat up van and started pulling out boxes. Everything he had in the world fit in the dozen or so boxes he had in his van. It was a good thing this job came with a furnished apartment.
He couldn't quite believe his luck, actually. He was young -- most subs were his age or older and they didn't want what they called a 'baby-top' as their Dom.
Here, though, he could pick up experience, look out for the boys who lived in Devon's beautiful house. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he'd been an RA for three years, he knew how to wrangle boys, he knew how to deal with drama. It would be interested to see what happened when his two worlds collided.
Taking out all the boxes, he locked up the van.
"Do you need some help?" Devon, the man who owned the place, came out, offering him a grin.
"That'd be great." He nodded toward the house. "There must be some boys home who could come give me a hand."
"Oh, I'm sure there are." Devon grabbed a box. "They're all hiding in their rooms and staring out the windows."
He laughed and turned, looking up at daid windows. "Spankings for anyone who comes help me with my boxes." He raised his voice so they would hear him.
He thought he could hear the gasps, and he absolutely saw the blinds twitch.
Devon cracked up. "Barn wouldn't approve."
"Of what? Spankings?"
"I'm pretty sure you can't spank me, yes."
"D...devvie? Devvie, do you need help?" Oh. Oh, the pretty little best friend. Jeff had seen him when he'd come in for his interview. He'd been attracted from the word go.
"I didn't mean you, Devon. I meant the others." Jeff gave Dev's friend -- okay, so he remembered that the guy's name was Paul -- a warm smile.
"We'd love help, Paulie." Devon handed Paul a couple of boxes, and before they got halfway there, a tumble of boys was there, grabbing boxes, pushing each other.
"Anything broken you have to pay for," he warned.
One of the bigger subs yanked the boxes out of Paul's arms, the lean boy going crashing into the rose bushes at the side of the house.
Paul cried out, and Devon dropped his box of books. "Oh, Paulie! Tim, you're an asshole!"
"Fuck you. He tripped."
"I did not."
"That's enough. Everyone put down your boxes, right now." Jeff pointed at Tim. "You can go to your apartment. No detours. I'll deal with you later."
Tim jutted his chin out. "Fuck you. No way."
Everyone stared at Jeff, and this was it. Where he proved how this was going to go.