The Preacher's Son
Page 1
The Preacher’s Son
Lisa Henry
J.A. Rock
The Preacher’s Son
© January 2018 by Lisa Henry and J.A. Rock
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the authors. Please respect authors’ work and don’t support piracy.
Cover Art: Ana J. Phoenix
This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Untitled
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Afterword
Also by Lisa Henry & J.A. Rock
Also by Lisa Henry
Also by J.A. Rock
About the Authors
Jason Banning is a wreck. His leg’s been blown to hell in Afghanistan, his boyfriend just left him and took the dog, and now he’s back in his hometown of Pinehurst, Washington, a place that holds nothing but wretched memories…and Nathan Tull. Nathan Tull, whose life Jason ruined. Nathan Tull, who will never believe Jason did what he did for a greater good. Nathan Tull, whose reverend father runs the gay conversion therapy camp that Jason once sought to bring down—at any cost.
* * *
Nathan Tull is trying to live a quiet life. Four years ago, when Nate was a prospective student visiting UW, his world collapsed when senior Jason Banning slept with him, filmed it, and put the footage online. A painful public outing and a crisis of faith later, Nate has finally begun to heal. Cured of the “phantoms” that plagued him for years, he now has a girlfriend, a counselor job at his dad’s camp, and the constant, loving support of his father.
* * *
But when he learns Jason is back in town, his carefully constructed identity begins to crumble. As desperate to reconcile his love for God with his attraction to men as Jason is to make sense of the damage he’s done, Nate finds himself walking a dangerous line. On one side lies the righteous life he committed himself to in the wake of his public humiliation. On the other is the sin he committed with Jason Banning, and the phantoms that won’t let him be. But is there a path that can bridge those two worlds—where his faith and his identity as a gay man aren’t mutually exclusive?
* * *
And can he walk that path with the man who betrayed him?
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much to Sara Beth, Bertie Blab, Allison Hickman, and Misha Horne, for your help in bringing this story together.
Prologue
June. Four years ago.
* * *
Jason opened the door to his apartment and flipped on the light. Listened as Nathan followed him in.
Nathan Tull. I’ve got Nathan fucking Tull in my apartment.
He paused as the door clicked shut behind Nathan. Not a trap, exactly. But uncomfortably close to one.
I don’t feel guilty. I don’t.
He went to the kitchenette and set the plastic grocery bag of tea and coffee on the counter. Turned. “You sure you want to do this?”
Nathan had his hands jammed in his pockets. His starched white button-down was tucked into jeans that hung low. Too low. Not an invitation—Nathan Tull was just built skinnier than they made jeans. But Jason’s dick reacted all the same. “Yeah,” Nathan said softly.
It was important that Nathan said he wanted to. Said it out loud. “Yeah?” Jason prompted.
Nathan looked up. Smiled tentatively. “I’m sure.”
Jason filled a glass with tap water. “You want a drink first? Or, hey, you hungry?”
“No. I’m good. I’m ready.” Nathan’s willingness seemed genuine enough. Even if Jason could smell the fear on him. Jason could remember that feeling, vaguely. Nerves and excitement nearly choking him, the foolish belief that losing his virginity was going to be some monumental experience.
He glanced at the front of Nathan’s pants. “I’d say you are.”
Nathan’s panicked gaze shot down to his crotch. Would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been so damn sad.
Come on, dude. It’s sex. Not a firing squad at dawn.
Nathan lifted his head, not quite meeting Jason’s eye. He ran a hand through his hair. “In the car, I liked it when you kept…”
“Reaching over and grabbing your dick?” Jason knocked back the water. Slammed the glass on the counter and smacked his lips, grinning. “That was fun.”
Nathan gave a slight, nervous smile and gazed around the room. “I like your apartment.”
Oh, they were gonna do that whole script, were they? Nice place you’ve got. Oh, thank you, I just fucking redecorated.
“The photos are good.” Nathan’s gaze traveled along the far wall. Across the massive red dunes of Soussusvlei, Namibia, the trippy-as-fuck La Sebastiana in Chile, the royal tombs in Petra. “Did you take them?”
Jason felt a flash of pride. “Yep.” Photos from twenty-seven different countries. Soon to be twenty-eight. He remembered dozing on the cold red sand in Soussusvlei, waiting for sunrise, waiting for that perfect shot. The wind blowing grit into his eyelashes, roughening the skin of his cheeks.
Nathan’s gaze was on the floor again.
Time to put the poor kid out of his misery. “Nathaaaan,” he said quietly, stepping around the counter. He slipped behind Nathan and wrapped his arms around the slender body. Let out a soft huff into the crook of Nathan’s neck and caught the whiff of a cologne that seemed too grown-up for an eighteen-year-old. Like Nathan had tried out his dad’s aftershave or something. And the way he relaxed, just for a second, into Jason’s arms made Jason want to call off the whole damn plan.
No can do.
Nathan tensed again.
“You worried about Bigsby?” Jason asked. “I told you, he’ll be too drunk by now to wonder where you are.”
Nathan was supposed to be spending UW Tacoma’s prospective students’ weekend with Joe Bigsby, a junior. But Bigsby was hardly the world’s most responsible host, and anyway, he’d seen Jason and Nathan talking at the party last night. Knew that Nathan had gone to meet Jason for coffee earlier today. Nathan was a big boy. He could handle himself.
Jason trailed his fingertips across Nathan’s chest. “Don’t be scared. I’m gonna take good care of you.”
Nathan laughed shakily. “Shut up.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled Nathan’s ear. “That’s not very nice.”
Nathan jumped a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”
Good goddamn fuck, this little nerveball needed a horse tranquilizer. Jason laughed into Nathan’s shoulder. “Relax. I know.”
So this is what eighteen years with your head up Jesus’s ass will do to you, huh? Glad my parents were atheists.
But then Nathan turned to him, and there was a flash of the playfulness Jason had seen when they’d flirted last night at the party. That expression—half mischievous, half grimly determined, made something like pride flare up in Jason’s chest. There you go. This is
what you should be: happy, young, wild. Fearless. And it’s your father’s fault you aren’t.
“I, uh... I wanna kiss you.”
Jason grinned slowly. “Then why don’t you?”
Nathan smiled back—such a genuine, artless smile that guilt slammed Jason like an anvil. But he leaned down, and they kissed. God, you’re hot as fuck. Own it, Nathan. Own it. Jason hummed into Nathan’s mouth and slid a hand down to Nathan’s crotch. Nathan gasped, froze.
It’s okay. Feels good, doesn’t it?
Nathan pushed tentatively against Jason’s hand. Jason managed a fairly graceful one-handed fly pop, and tugged Nathan’s jeans down. They stayed rucked around hairy, skinny thighs. His briefs were blindingly white—God, they’re probably starched, just like his fucking Do-you-have-a-moment-to-talk-about-Jesus button-down.
Jason kneaded Nathan’s ass through his underwear. Nathan seemed particularly startled by that, but after a few seconds he was moaning softly, the sound coming from deep in his throat, and he was rocking, hands braced on Jason’s shoulders, matching Jason’s rhythm. Jason gave the seat of Nathan’s briefs a rough pat, then dropped to his knees to pull the kid’s jeans all the way off.
While he was down there, he figured he might as well kiss the bulge in Nathan’s briefs. Breathe on it, inhale that salty, pungent scent until Nathan doubled over, twisting Jason’s hair in both hands. Jason laughed and kissed the bulge again, feeling that hard dick twitch against strained fabric.
“Okay, okay,” Nathan whispered. “I’m gonna… It’s gonna be over too fast if you do that.”
Jason looked up, his lips still pressed to Nathan’s covered dick.
“Shit.” Nathan undid a few buttons with visibly shaking fingers, then tried to yank his shirt off still part way buttoned, his bony elbows getting caught in the crisp fabric and creating shapes like some nebulous wraith in a horror movie. “Shit.” He couldn’t get his wrists through the buttoned cuffs. Jason had to grab the shirt and pull for him. Took some satisfaction in creasing it.
Nathan gave an awkward laugh, almost a yelp. He tossed the shirt aside. “Sorry. I know I’m, like, the most awkward.”
Understatement of the year.
Jason smiled reassuringly. “This is supposed to be fun. Don’t worry, I won’t judge.”
Jason regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. A pain flooded Nathan’s eyes that made him look decades older. And somewhere in that world-weary expression was a gasp of pure hope that gave Jason the first stirrings of nausea.
What am I doing? This is… This isn’t right.
He shut the thought down. For the greater good. Remember that.
Nathan smiled that same, shy smile. “Sorry, I’m just so...I’ve wanted this for so long, I just—”
“I know. Tonight, you get whatever you want.”
Jason drew light circles on Nathan’s hips until Nathan shivered, then hooked his fingers in elastic. Nathan’s breath hitched, and his ass twitched under the cotton. Jason teased his underwear down, freeing a fucking miracle of a cock—about seven inches long, deep red and veiny, with a fat head and a tiny, perfect slit. Nathan shifted slightly, then went still.
Slowly, Jason ran his fingertips up the side of Nathan’s thigh. Then down. Watched that beautiful dick get slick at the tip. Nathan gazed down at him, breathing hard.
Jason leaned back and took a moment to appreciate Nathan Tull naked. Okay, the guy’s legs were shaking and his briefs were around his ankles like he’d just gone big boy potty for the first time, but still. If you didn’t know what a shivery little wreck of religious mindfuckery Nathan Tull was, you’d have thought you were on your knees in front of a fucking porn star.
Jason would never have guessed how sexy Nathan was based on the glimpses he’d caught of the kid back in Pinehurst. The reverend’s scrawny, vampire-pale son, always dressed in clothes too old for him. Hair too gelled, back too straight, skin too milky. Or based on the recent photo on the Moving Forward website. The young man in that photograph was gawky and wholesome, sandwiched between his thin, sardonic-looking mother and his stocky, beaming father. Imprisoned in his starched white dress shirt and wearing a blue-and-purple striped tie that seemed to be choking him, his smile tight and self-conscious.
But right now, he was…
“Fucking hot,” Jason murmured.
“Shut up.”
“I mean it. Look at this.” Jason stroked Nathan’s dick, rolled his flushed, hairy balls. Nathan tipped his head back and gave a barely-voiced whimper. “You are hung, Mr. Tull.”
Nathan closed his eyes for an instant, as though in pain. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not.”
“Shut up.”
Jason stood. “You know, you keep saying that.” He placed his hands lightly on Nathan’s biceps, ignoring Nathan’s visible swallow. “Why don’t you make me?”
“What?”
Jason leaned forward and kissed him softly. Was pleased to feel Nathan open up to him, return the kiss with an enthusiasm that still managed to be as gentle and unassuming as the rest of him. Jason felt another lash of guilt. He pulled away and gazed into Nathan’s hazel eyes. “Make me.” Fuck if his balls didn’t draw tight at the words. “Anything you want tonight, I’m yours.”
Nathan laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t...know what I want.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me to undress?”
Nathan looked up at the ceiling. It bothered Jason that he had trouble reading the guy. When Jason slept with freshman, they were usually whiny, horny little fuckers. Sloppy and cute, easy to please. Nathan, not even out of high school, had an unnerving gravity to him.
“Um. Get undressed,” Nathan said softly. To the ceiling.
“No.” Jason spoke quietly, tugging Nathan’s hand until Nathan looked at him. “Say it to me. Say it like you mean it.”
Fear flashed through Nathan’s eyes, but was quickly replaced by resolve. “Get undressed,” Nathan repeated, voice low and firm.
Damn. Jason’s ass clenched, and heat shuddered through him. He knew he shouldn’t get too invested in what happened here tonight, but couldn’t he get the job done and have some fun along the way? He started shucking his clothes.
Nathan went to the wall and flipped off the light. A bluish glare filtered in from the street, but Jason wasn’t sure it would be enough. “What’d you do that for?”
Nathan hesitated. “You want the light on?”
“I wanna see you.” Jason tossed his shirt into the corner. Stood there for a moment, knowing that even in the near-dark, Nathan would be able to see the ridges of his muscles, his well-defined pecs and abs. “I wanna see your face during every fucking thing we do tonight.”
Nathan flushed. “It seems weird. Too bright?”
Okay. Jason could work with this. Maybe.
He took Nathan’s wrists and guided him toward the bed. The apartment was a studio, nothing to divide the living and sleeping areas. It embarrassed Jason a little. But hey, Nathan had said it was a nice place.
Not gonna matter after tonight what he thinks about my apartment.
Jason eased him in for another kiss, trying to quell his own unease. “You okay?” he asked as Nathan withdrew.
“Fine. Fine, sorry.” Nathan stood there, rigid and awkward.
“Cold feet?” Jason was careful not to sound impatient. Funny thing was, he wasn’t impatient. He was nervous—not sure he’d be able to pull this off. But he wanted Nathan to feel comfortable. Wanted to see his tight face relax, wanted to watch the tension melt from his body. Wanted to give Nathan a good experience.
I do want you to be happy, Nathan. You and all the others like you. That’s why I’m doing this.
An ache that nearly stopped Jason’s breath. This had all seemed so...so necessary, in the abstract. But now, he was less sure.
He’ll never forgive me. Will he?
“No,” Nathan murmured. “I was just thinking… It’s kind of funny. Us m
eeting. Like, I knew you were at UW. I kind of thought about trying to get in touch. Like, let you know I’d be here for Prospie Weekend. But I wasn’t sure you’d really know who I was. Then I saw you at the party…”
“Of course I know who you are. Pinehurst is the size of a mouse’s nutsack.”
“Yeah, I know. And everyone knows my dad. But we never… I didn’t know if you’d care.” He paused. “That I was here.”
Jason didn’t answer, but his pulse was jerking in his neck hard enough to be distracting. He went to the computer desk to get a condom and lube from the back of the drawer. Glanced again at the dull glint of the camera lens in the bookcase, wedged between The Greatest Generation and My Beloved World.
If I’m gonna do this, if I’m gonna be a real fucking journalist, I can’t be afraid to slog through shit. To make enemies.
“My dad will kill me.” Nathan’s voice was barely audible.
Jason turned.
Nathan had retreated from the bed and was standing by the closet, his left shoulder outlined in the blue street light coming in through the window. There was a soft slapping sound, and it took Jason a moment to realize Nathan was jerking off.
What the hell?
Jason tossed the condom and lube onto the bed and approached him. Nathan was staring straight ahead, into the darkness of the closet, working himself hard and fast. “My dad will kill me,” he repeated, flinching. He squeezed his eyes shut. Handled his dick so roughly that Jason winced.
Jason cautiously put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Na—”