Finding Paradise Read Online Jayda Marx

Categories Genre: Erotic, Insta-Love, M-M Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)

In search of healing and much needed relaxation, Hayes is traveling by airplane for the first time in his 26 years. He's nervous, but is comforted by the man seated next to him - 43 year old overachiever Jesse, who was forced (and maybe a bit tricked) into taking a vacation by his coworker.
The pair immediately hit it off, finding that while they have differences, they also have a lot in common, including the cruise they're both taking.
Throughout their tropical vacation, they share adventures and grow close. Jesse learns that work isn't the most important thing in life, and Hayes discovers that maybe paradise isn't a place, but a person.

*This age gap romance is insta-love, and is full of laughs, sweet moments, and heat. It's a light and fluffy read to gear up for summertime, and has a very happy HEA!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

“Go on a vacation”, they said. “It will be relaxing”, they said. The words tumbled around my head, making me more irritated with each repeat. There was nothing relaxing about this trip thus far. Granted, I was still in the airport, but I was already frustrated and expecting nothing different for the rest of my journey.

The day started out in the shitter when I got into my car and found out that I had a flat tire; and I don't mean 'Oh, I'll need to stop and get some air soon', I mean I'd run over a damn nail the day before and all the air escaped overnight. I couldn't drive on it and didn't have time to fix it anyway, so I had to call an Uber to take me to the airport.

Well, the dumbass driver missed the exit and had to make a big loop to get me back where I needed to be. Once all was said and done, I was nearly an hour behind schedule. I hated being behind schedule.

Luckily, the airport security line moved quickly, but something lit up on my body scan and I had to get a pat down. Of course I didn't have any contraband; the scanner was just oversensitive. It was a nice safety feature, but I didn't enjoy getting felt up by an old white haired lady who was surprisingly rough.

As if that weren't bad enough, my carry-on was flagged as being suspicious as well, and I had to step aside and watch as the TSA agent searched it. I had nothing to hide…except a six inch dildo and a bottle of Astroglide. I made sure the travel size bottle of that shit was under three ounces, so I don't know what the problem was.

But I'll never forget the look on the agent's face when he pulled out my toy. His eyes popped open wide and his skin went pale. The kid couldn't have been older than eighteen; he still had acne and a patchy beard. He'd probably never seen a dildo before, let alone held one, judging by the way he threw it back into my bag quickly, as if it were going to bite him. His eyes wouldn't meet mine when he told me I was free to grab my bag and go.

By the time I made it to my gate, the boarding process had already started. People were crammed together and grumbling, kids were screaming, and my head was throbbing. Part of me wanted to say, "Screw the airfare loss" and go home to climb into bed again, but I'd come this far, might as well continue on and hope for the best. Besides, things could only get better…I hoped.

I missed my priority boarding slot, so I jumped in line with the grumbling mass of impatient people waiting to board the plane. They shuffled through one by one until I reached the desk beside the gate, where an employee scanned my boarding pass.

Then I waited in line again in the jetway, and once more when I finally set foot inside the plane. People were taking their sweet time finding their seats and placing their carry-on luggage in the overhead bins. Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long for the line of slow pokes to move, because my seat was near the front of the plane in the first class section.

Row four, row five, ah, here we go; row six. I heaved my bag off of the floor and placed it in the compartment above me before turning my attention to the seats themselves.

There were only two chairs on each side of the center path, and I’d chosen the aisle seat, as I usually did when I flew. When I looked to see who I’d be sitting next to, I was surprised by what I saw; a handsome young man, looking to be in his early twenties, in a total state of panic.

His hands were clenched around the armrests of his seat, squeezing so hard that all of his knuckles were white. His eyes were squinted shut, and his chest heaved with quick, deep breaths. He was going to pass out if he didn’t calm down.

I took my seat next to him and decided to make small talk to try and calm his nerves. I asked (though I was sure I already knew the answer), “Is this your first time?”

“It’s been a while since a man has asked me that,” he replied, and I was so surprised by his answer, I snorted loudly. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly, still not opening his eyes, “I say stupid stuff when I’m nervous.”

“No worries,” I assured, still chuckling. “Besides, I can guarantee it’s been longer for me.” Was I purposefully making it obvious that I was gay? Yes. Was it simply to make a connection with this stranger to help him feel more at ease, and not because he was hot as hell and my thirsty ass was in the middle of a years-long drought and instinctively acting desperate? Sure…we’ll go with that.