[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Consensual BDSM Romance, M/M, werewolves, sex toys, HEA]
Gideon Green is homeless and alone in the unfamiliar city of New Orleans. Luckily, he’s taken in by a group of boys called the French Quarter Brats and shown how to survive by its members. A year into living with them, he sees the man the Brats call the Cajun King, and the instant attraction and unreasoning pull he feels will not be denied.
Evan St. Germaine, the Cajun King of New Orleans, has been looking for his mate since he became a werewolf a decade previously. When Gideon approaches him, he knows instantly who the boy is to him, even if the human doesn’t realize it yet. Taking Gideon home and building his mate’s confidence is just the first step in helping Gideon realize his self-worth, but will Evan’s mastery be enough to make Gideon realize that being his mate includes more than his obedience and willing submission?
Note: This book was previously published with another publisher and has been extensively revised and expanded.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Jana Downs is a Siren-exclusive author.
"This is a story about making a new start after being abused in a place you used to call home. Unfortunately this is very true for too many people, especially young people who have no choice but to pick up the pieces and try to build a life elsewhere. It's risky, but what do you do if it's your only choice? It's neither fast nor easy, and Gideon experiences some very tough times before he decides what he wants and goes after it. THAT is what marks those who succeed from those who end up just drifting along or, worse, become the victims of people waiting to exploit them. Gideon comes to New Orleans, a new city for him, with high hopes. Like many people desperate for a new start for one reason or another, he finds out new starts aren’t all they are made out to be. He ends up as a rent boy and learning whom to trust and what to believe is hard but he is lucky to find a group where members look out for each other. When he gets his big break in the form of a night with the Cajun King, he doesn’t hesitate. The Cajun King of New Orleans, Evan St. Germaine, knows what he's looking for in a sub. He may not admit it, but he has a big heart and falls for Gideon almost immediately. I can't be sure, since we never hear from him, but his behavior is pretty clear. And when he does decide there may be long-term potential, he enables Gideon to make the decision in a way that empowers him. Very cleverly written, and extremely emotional to boot. If you like stories about rent boys 'making good', if you enjoy a good 'battle' between a new sub and an extremely strict but loving Dom, and if you're looking for an emotional and touching path to growth, then you will probably like this book." -- Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
It was early summer when Gideon arrived in New Orleans with bruises fresh on his cheek. He remembered the weather then had been a reflection of his life, hot, sticky, and oppressive in a way that made the skin bleed sweat. He’d come for a fresh start, a new life. He just hadn’t anticipated the economy being what it was in the Big Easy.
“Hey, Gid!” one of the Quarter Brats called out to him from behind a shop facing Jackson Square. The narrow alley was not somewhere anyone with any sense would want to duck into at night. The chances of stumbling onto something seedy or predatory were equally likely possibilities. But it was high noon and the sun was shining. The last lick of heat was making a show before it petered and died right as the sun set. It was getting colder every day.
Gideon hugged his faded and worn army jacket, which was pieced together with too many safety pins, and slid into the alley. Almost seven months had gone by since he’d come into the city, and the cold here was so different from the cold up in the mountains. The humidity made it seep into his bones so that he felt chilled from the inside out. It wasn’t too bad yet, but he dreaded the winter to come.
“Hey, Ter. What’s up?” he greeted, carefully sidestepping a smear of yellow vomit that some tourist had no doubt left there the night before. The Vietnamese boy, with the dragon tattoo that curled around his right eye in a half moon before trailing down his cheek, gave him a grin.
“I thought you’d want to know, I’ve got a job tonight. Dude booked it off my website. Wants a nude photo shoot with another Brat. You said you needed money.”
Gideon sighed, and his stomach gave a dispassionate twist. “Pass,” he said.
Ter frowned. “Come on, Gideon. When is the last time you ate? Tuesday? You’re too picky about your jobs, man. It’s good money. Four hundred bucks for two hours. I’ll split it with you fifty-fifty.”
“I’ll pick up a job tonight, Ter. Maybe Crystal will let me wash her car or something.” The owner of one of the many restaurants around the Quarter sometimes let him wash up for a few extra bucks. The odd jobs he’d picked up lately were drying up with the tourists as the cold descended, though. He was getting desperate. “I’m just not in the mood for a naked photo shoot.” The wind picked up, sending an icy gush tearing through the alley. Gideon hugged his coat tighter, wishing his pants weren’t so thin in some places. “What are you doin’ down here anyway?”
“Took a shortcut from one of my boyfriends’ house.” Ter had a lot of “boyfriends.” He wasn’t a hooker or anything, but he certainly got a lot of stuff off the string of guys he was involved with. “Saw you and thought I’d yell.” Ter dug into his pockets and produced a pack of Trident gum. The package was orange, so he guessed that it was probably Ter’s usual tropical shit. He’d kill for something minty right about now. His stomach rumbled as if in protest. Okay, so he’d kill for just about anything at this point. Ter gave him a knowing look. “Well, the offer is still good if you want in. I’ll be hanging around the square for the rest of the afternoon. Find me before six if you decide to come out. Otherwise, I’m inviting Jamie.”
Gideon nodded but knew he wouldn’t be taking Ter up on his offer. He wasn’t in the mood. Not for this. Not for anything. The idea of having to wander around tonight to dig up a job so that he could eat seemed like so much more effort than he was willing to put forth.
“You’re feeling bad because you haven’t eaten in two days,” Ter said, reading his mind. “I mean it, man. Go read a fortune for a tourist or something in the square for some cash and get a bite to eat. You’ll feel a lot better, and maybe you won’t be so glum about it.”
How Ter managed to keep his devil-may-care attitude and his ever-present smile was a mystery to Gideon. His ultraconservative parents had kicked the kid out at sixteen and cursed him with the spirit of a volatile dragon who he shifted into on a full moon. He’d been on the streets, doing what he had to survive for two years, and he still had this effervescent personality. Though he claimed he was only good at getting two things, money and sex. He wasn’t looking for love, but that wasn’t true of the other Quarter Brats.
It’s like going fishing, Gid. You gotta catch a lot of bad ones before you catch the one you want to keep. That was what Jamie was always telling him. The slow-talking native Louisiana boy was the romantic of the bunch. He was convinced that the next man he met would be his Prince Charming. The alligator shifter was determined to find his mate somewhere in New Orleans, despite the fact that his family had betrothed him to two very aggressive men back in Ma’s Trick. He’d run away because of it and hadn’t looked back since.
Gideon found his optimism to be a little disheartening. Maybe it was because Gideon himself had grown up in a loving human family with nice things that made the hope of the other Quarter Brats so unreal to him. It hadn’t been his family that had turned their backs on him but him who had turned his back on his family. He still felt the acrid taste of shame every time he thought of it. He’d given up his whole life for someone who had made him bleed, literally and figuratively. Never again. Maybe it was better that he was down in New Orleans, far away from the pained gazes of his relatives. Here, at least, he could hide his fuckups without needing to explain a thing.
“Don’t forget to come tell me if you change your mind,” Ter reminded him, breaking Gideon away from the memories that swirled like so much shit down the toilet bowl of his mind.
“Yeah. I won’t.” He turned back toward the square. “See you around, Ter.”
“You’re a very sensual creature,” Evan murmured, leaning forward to rest his chin on the elbow that was braced on his knee. Gideon felt heat steal over his cheeks. Damn, was he blushing again? Whoever had heard of a Quarter Brat blushing?
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Gideon said quietly. He didn’t know what to say about a lot of things that Evan said for that matter. That was all right, he guessed, since Evan was in charge of this particular situation.
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s just an observation, pet.” Evan’s voice was so warm. He wanted to just curl up inside that sound and sleep. “Now, about our little jeu d’amour. What do you absolutely not want to do?”
Gideon swallowed hard. This wasn’t a subject he enjoyed talking about. Usually, he told guys, “You can put it here,” “You have to wear a rubber,” etcetera. Nothing in his experience had him sitting down as an equal with a hookup to talk about what would be pleasurable.
“I’m okay with, uh, fucking and stuff. Um, you have to wear a condom.” There. That wasn’t so bad. “I’m not really into pain.” He added the last because it was true. He’d had enough beatings in his life that the thought of doing it for fun did not appeal. If a guy asked for it, he’d done it in the past, but for the most part he’d walked away from guys like that because of his abhorrence for the nursing that was required afterward.
Evan nodded. “I figured as much. I just needed you to say it. Are you all right with Dominance games, though? You seem to be cozy in the one we’re playing, but I need a verbal affirmation.”
Gideon thought about the “game” that felt like so much more to him at this point. Getting paid for it just seemed like icing on the cake. He wanted to be Evan’s. “I want to be your pet.” He repeated the words yet again. He sensed that the reason for the questions wasn’t because of some deep-seated insecurity on Evan’s part. The Cajun was giving him room to walk if he so chose. The courtesy was nice but unnecessary.
“That entails obedience training,” Evan said. “That means a trial-and-error system with punishments for bad behavior and rewards for good behavior. Are you prepared to deal with that?”
Gideon thought about the hand that had assaulted his nut sac. Then he thought about the caresses afterward. “Yeah. I can deal with that.”
“Good. To compensate you for the time you spend here with me, how does three hundred dollars a day sound?” Evan asked.
Gideon’s eyes bulged. Was he serious? “Isn’t that a bit much?” Gideon asked.
Evan chuckled. “Only you would ask such a thing. The other boys you pal around with wouldn’t have the same hesitation. I’ve chosen well.” The statement seemed self-congratulatory. “I will not employ pain on you, unless you ask for it, as anything other than a mild reprimand. In turn, you’ll do your best to keep up with my expectations for the duration. Are these terms acceptable?” Gideon nodded. He was a little bit overwhelmed that this was actually happening. “Then from this moment on, you’ll be on probation as my house pet.” Evan smiled at him. “Drop the towel, pet.”
Gideon lifted his hips and removed the towel, setting it gently beside him when he was finished. Evan’s hazel-green eyes took it all in. He could get used to the Cajun’s eyes always on him.
“What is your name, pet? I’ve yet to ask you.”
“Gideon.” Gideon’s voice was a whispered thread of sound. “My name is Gideon.”
Evan’s smile widened. “Ah, the biblical destroyer. How appropriate. Tell me, pet, if you could have anything you wanted right now, what would it be?”
“I’d really like to come,” Gideon said before he could filter himself. He was strung out, on the edge of orgasm, and he’d been that way since the first time Evan had spoken to him.
“For being so good, I think you’ve earned that much. Come here. Sit in my lap for a moment.”
Gideon pushed himself to his feet and walked steadily over to the chair. Evan’s basketball shorts were stretched tight over a tremendous erection that looked as painful as Gideon’s felt. Still, he crawled into Evan’s lap, settling his ass against the hard stab of the Cajun’s prick. Gideon sitting on his lap like Evan was Santa Claus was a pretty disturbing image but one Gideon found amusing in the seriousness of the moment. He shifted, trying to get more comfortable. If he were facing Evan, he might be more at ease, but it was a little too late now.
“Spread your thighs over the arms of the chair.” Gideon complied. It put him in the position of using Evan’s chest for support against his back and relying on Evan to support his full weight by spreading his legs wide so they wouldn’t touch the ground. It was a definite position of vulnerability. “Good boy.” The words went right to his cock. Pre-cum dribbled down the length of it like tiny tears of want.
Evan’s fist circled his prick and began to pump. Gideon’s eyes rolled as sensation swamped him. When was the last time someone had pleasured Gideon like this? He didn’t even remember. Not since high school at least.
“Relax. Take your pleasure. Don’t force it.” Evan’s soft murmurs only made his desire burn brighter. He wanted to orgasm so damn badly. “That’s it. Good boy. Show me how much you like this.”