Mirrigold: Mutterings & Musings

Swiped By My Dad’s Best Friend | DJ Jamison

Thrust Into Love #1

Cover Artist: Cate Ashwood

Release Date: May 20, 2021

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: Approx 73,000 words

Buy Links:

Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK

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Blurb

Cooper Rutledge: Frat boy, general screwup, and…Daddy’s boy?

On the surface, I don’t take things too seriously.

Not my poor grades, or my hookups, or my inability to find my purpose.

But that was before.

Before the daddy of my wet dreams swiped right on my pic.

Before he turned out to be my father’s best friend.

Before I convinced him to indulge in one night of pleasure with no strings.

I didn’t count on how magical it would be.

I didn’t know that when he spanked me and offered words of praise, my soul would drink it up.

I didn’t realize how right Daddy kink would feel.

One night could never be enough.

Because I do care. Too much.

And when life sends me into an emotional tailspin, Trace steps up to support me—proving he cares too.

Everything has gotten very real, very fast.

But are we ready for the fallout?

I can’t let anyone, not even my father, come between me and Trace.

I’ve finally found my Daddy, and I’ll fight to keep him.

Swiped By My Dad’s Best Friend is a contemporary age-gap M/M romance that includes light daddy kink and no age play.

Excerpt

This excerpt is from Cooper’s perspective. He’s just headed out to meet an app hookup, and neither of them have any idea what they’re about to walk into.

I headed to the B&B where my hookup was staying. Luckily, it was within walking distance. I took a shortcut across campus, jogging over the lawn alongside one of the sorority houses, cutting behind the campus bookstore, and jumping a low, stone fence that circled the grounds. That took me into Hayworth House’s backyard. As a former frat house, the B&B was barely outside campus proper—and only two minutes from where I lived on frat row.

Circling the house, I hesitated at the front door only a few seconds before walking in like I owned the place. If it was a B&B, they must have guests coming and going, but it still felt strange stepping into a house that wasn’t mine. I spotted the staircase right away, thankful I wouldn’t have to wander around calling out for a guy I only knew by Daddy or his handle, SeasonedBeefcake. The name was a little cringey, but I couldn’t deny this guy had some definite beefcake cred despite his age.

A man emerged from the living room, and I froze. I knew instantly he wasn’t my hookup; his body type was all wrong, unless my Beefcake had done some serious photoshopping on his profile pics.

“Can I help you?”

I smiled sheepishly. “I know where I’m going.” I waved toward the second floor. “Here to see a…friend.”

One eyebrow arched as he looked me over. I was wearing sweats and a worn T. I’d thought about dressing up, but why bother if I was just gonna take the clothes off?

“Go on then,” he said.

I wasted no time, jogging my way to the top and heading straight for the second door. It was closed. My hookup had told me to let myself in, so once again, I skipped knocking and strolled in bold as brass.

The room appeared to be empty. Huh.

I checked my phone. Yep. I was in the right place. The man must be around somewhere. Maybe in the bathroom or down in the kitchen grabbing a drink. After a cursory look around the nicely appointed room, I decided to go ahead and set the mood for when he returned. I hadn’t had a hookup quite like him in a long while. I wasn’t too picky about my matches; if someone wanted to hook up, I was down for some fun. It’s not as if I were trying to make a love connection. I’d fucked around with slender guys, curvy women, and everything in between.

But this guy…

Well, I had to admit that the thought of big, strong hands manhandling me was tripping my trigger big time.

I tugged my shirt over my head, deciding I’d rather not make a first impression with the ratty material. I could let my skin do the talking. I pushed my sweats down—just a little—and stilled at the sound of the door opening behind me.

A moment later, a heavy, damp body pressed up against my back. “You getting started without me?” he murmured.

“Thought I might have to,” I said. “I was all alone with this hard dick.”

He chuckled. “Well, we can’t have that.”

I thought he’d grab my cock immediately, but he stepped back. I turned my head, just enough to confirm he was every inch the daddy type I’d imagined: tall, broad, solid—and wrapped in nothing but a towel. Yum.

His large hands dwarfed my shoulders, and I shivered as he slowly mapped the shape of me. His touch was light as he traced down my spine with one hand and glided his other around to my abs, caressing so lightly just beneath my navel that it almost tickled—and instantly made my cock throb with jealousy.

I made a needy sound, surprising myself. I enjoyed sex, sure. I had plenty of opportunity with a full campus of horny students. But I wasn’t usually this affected. My nerves fired up under his touch, goosebumps rushing across my skin.

“Patience,” he said. “We’ll get there. You young guys are all rush, rush, rush. Let me enjoy this amazing body of yours…”

Instinctively, I pressed my ass back, feeling the prod of his dick. He grunted and smacked the top of my exposed right cheek. “None of that.”

I jerked a little at the smack, but it barely stung. Something about the way he was taking control did it for me, my body thrumming as I moaned playfully. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” he said, sounding amused, but more than willing to indulge my little fantasy. I hadn’t ever experimented with daddy kink beyond watching a few porn videos with the theme, but something about this guy screamed Daddy. It felt right to let him take control, right to try to please him.

Finally, something I can do right.

Pushing my sweats down a little farther, he cupped my ass, squeezing it and making a pleased, rumbling sound. I really wasn’t as fit as some guys. Too much snacking, too little time in the gym. But I was young, and I had good genes. I was sending up thanks that my body didn’t disappoint when he paused.

“This scar…” He traced a jagged line that extended from my ribs to my lower back. “I knew someone with a scar like this. It was from a—”

“Skateboard accident,” we both said at the same time.

I’d fallen into an old fence, and it’d torn me to hell. I’d had to get stitches, and the scar never entirely faded.

He inhaled sharply. “Cooper?”

I answered on reflex. “Yeah, who—”

“Rutledge?”

He lifted his hands off me as if I’d burned him, taking a quick step back, his voice full of a horror that disoriented me. One moment everything was finally going right, and the next, he was leaping away from me.

I turned, taking a closer look at him. Dark hair, gorgeous beard, but those eyes…

My heart lurched, then skipped with an excited flutter. It couldn’t be, could it? But it was. I saw it written all over his face. Before me, looking like the daddy of my wet dreams, was a man I hadn’t seen in over ten years—my father’s best friend from our hometown.

“Trace?”

About the Author

DJ Jamison writes romances about everyday life and extraordinary love featuring a variety of queer characters, from gay to bisexual to asexual. DJ grew up in the Midwest in a working-class family, and those influences can be found in her writing through characters coping with real-life problems: money troubles, workplace drama, family conflicts and, of course, falling in love.

DJ spent more than a decade in the newspaper industry before chasing her first dream to write fiction. She spent a lifetime reading before that and continues to avidly devour her fellow authors’ books each night. She lives in Kansas with her husband, two sons, one snake, and a sadistic cat named Birdie.

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