Crash Into Him

By Brady Fox

THEY WEREN'T LOOKING FOR LOVE…

Jesse Miller just wants to hide. 

Once an Ivy League whiz kid, Jesse was absolutely destined to become a successful, well-adjusted lawyer, just like every other man before him in the Miller family lineage. 

If only he'd kept his mouth shut. 

Because after his expulsion from Stanford, the only thing he can do now is try to pick up the broken pieces of what's left of his shattered life.

Now, Jesse would rather crawl into a dark hole and die than face the pain that lurks just above the surface of it all. So when he settles for a mundane job working in the mailroom at one of the most powerful law firms in New York City, he just assumes he's safe from the hurt, shame, and fear that surely await him in the outside world… 

BUT LOVE WAS LOOKING FOR THEM…

Aiden Stein is off the charts in every possible way. He's so good looking it hurts, one of the leading trial litigators in the corporate law world, and worth more money than most Hollywood phenoms. When this man walks into a room, everyone, gay or straight, takes notice. 

But when Jesse Miller walks into his room, at the law offices of Grossman & Stein, this time it's Aiden himself who takes notice. And Aiden isn't used to asking for anything; he just goddamn takes it. 

Only now, for the first time in forever, Aiden may have miscalculated. 

Because from the moment Aiden lays eyes on this kid, Jesse's lean, tight, surfer bod, his razor sharp wit, and his quiet, deceptively strong demeanor are enough to trigger every single one of Aiden's deepest desires. 

And when a sudden, hot encounter in Aiden's office has both men's clothes scattered all across the room, a sexual firestorm is set off that shows zero signs of stopping…

Can both men possibly survive flames this high? 

CRASH INTO HIM is a steamy, standalone gay romance novella from best selling author Brady Fox.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brady Fox
• Release date: Nov 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386740063

Book preview

Excerpt

"D o you have some sort of death wish?" I say, pinning his shoulders tightly against the cold wall behind him.

Jesse chuckles softly, but it’s loud enough that I can still hear a slight echo in the corridor. Something like that. I knew the risks the second I met you. We both did.

I move my hand towards his ass and tease the outer edges of his hole with my fingers. I grin like the devil I am as I watch him take in a sharp gasp of air. A man in your position shouldn’t be playing with fire.

I’m well aware of that, Aiden, he whispers back to me, grabbing at the massive bulge in my pants with his wanting hands.

My breathing is broken and chaotic as his fingers make their way to the tip of my dick. I try to warn him one last time. Or maybe I’m secretly trying to warn myself. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into here.

His eyes flicker just before he slides his hand into my pants and wraps his fingers around my stiff cock. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know shit right now.

I smile, and then push my hips into his hand. As long as you realize this isn’t going to end well, I say.

He claws at the button on my pants as he tries to undo me right here and now. Our lips are just barely apart. Absolutely. I have no doubt you're about to be my biggest mistake ever.

Jesse

It’s amazing how much one thoughtless decision can change the course of your life forever.

There’s that, and the fact that I’ve always been bad at doing what I’m told...

Until I met Aiden Stein, the unshakable, dick-hardening managing partner of the largest law firm in New York City, Grossman & Stein.

I'm not saying I’m the loose canon, take-shit-from-nobody fighter type, but I'm also not afraid to use my mouth as a weapon when duty calls. When I was younger, calling bullshit on authority figures made me feel cool, ballsy, even heroic. Until it didn’t... That is, until it got me expelled from Stanford, thereby derailing my lifelong dream to become a top dog lawyer, just like the rest of the male kin in the Miller lineage.

But unlike my grandfather, dad, and two brothers, I was going to do it my way. Was being the operative word here.

So much for that grand plan, because here I am in the basement mailroom of Grossman & Stein, hardly a top dog lawyer. Hell, I’m not even a top dog here in the mailroom.

My new supervisor, Rick Walsh, fakes a smile as he rolls the four-wheeled PVC cart stacked with seventeen brown boxes, each of them numbered with a red Sharpie, directly at me. Sorry Jerry, you’re it. Express load to the executive floor, north wing.

It’s Jesse, I correct him.

My supervisor wipes a stray bead of sweat from his brow and rolls his shirtsleeve up to his elbow. "Look, Jesse or Jerry or Jimmy... whatever your name is, you’re still it."

I look around at the rest of the guys in the mailroom who are all doing everything they can to avoid looking at me, and then I glance back over at my supervisor. I try to keep my defiant nature at bay, it being only my second day here and all. Shouldn’t someone with a little more experience do this instead?

The truth is, I’ve heard nothing but horror stories about dealing with the big wigs on the top floor since I crawled into this job yesterday. Especially the north wing.

Most of our work here in the mailroom doesn’t entail a lot of face-to-face dealings with the managing partners and their bot associates, but I guess we’re occasionally called in to deliver important receivables immediately upon arrival.

Rick puts his hand on my shoulder. My eyes shift quickly to his hand, then I remember why I’m here before punching this guy in the jaw.

Needing this job would be an understatement.

He looks annoyed, and I already know I've questioned too much. More experience? he says. Are you training to be a stand-up? he adds, grinning his big teeth that no doubt are only white from a monthly dose of Crest white strips.

Then he looks around at the rest of the mailroom crew as he shakes his head in amusement. Yes, you have to, because this is only your second day here and that’s exactly how life works down here. I may not have air conditioning in this shit hole, but I have earned the right to tell a kid in your position what to do.

I swallow hard. Now, my natural tendency would be to tell a stiff like this to fuck off and die, but I’ve already burned more bridges than I can count on both hands.

I need this job, as sad as that is given the life path I used to be on. And at least here I’m around, sort of, the one thing that I’ve always been obsessed with since I used to secretly read through my father’s trial court transcripts... the law.

As much as lawyers get a really bad rap, and a lot of times the stereotypes hold up, I can’t help loving the very essence of it all. In fact, I love the law so fucking much, I took at least a dozen practice bar exams even though I didn’t even make it out of college with a degree in hand.

Not that my supervisor needs to know any of that. He’d only use it against me somehow... maybe rub it in that I had it all only to flush it down the proverbial toilet and end up exactly where he ended up in life, only lower.

My supervisor looks down at his wrist and rotates his slack watch so that he can read the time. "I suggest you move your ass to Stein’s wing. If