Blue Moon: Too Good to Be True (10 page)

Angel shook his head. He always wondered what kind of drugs Jazz was on, and if it was sold over the counter. She had the energy of a five-year-old.

I love that silly girl.

It was four o’clock and Angel was wrapping up his paperwork preparing to leave when his cell phone vibrated on his desk. He checked the caller ID

and excitedly fumbled the phone for a couple of seconds trying to answer the call. He took a calming breath before speaking. “Hello,” he said in his smoothest voice.

“Hello, handsome. How are you?” Max spoke softly.

“Hey yourself. I’m good now that I’m hearing from you.”

“Is that so?” Max replied. Angel knew he was smiling, he could hear it in his voice.

“You’re not calling to cancel on me, are you, stud?”

“Not a chance in hell. I wanted to tell you that your address was listed so I shouldn’t have a problem getting to you, and I wanted to make sure that seven o’clock still works for you.”

Max sounded so fucking sexy on the phone, Angel’s cock instantly became hard as steel. He was dizzy at the quick rush of blood from his body to his cock. He thought about how to draw out the conversation so he could hear more.
Oh sweet torture.
“Yeah seven is good. I’m really looking forward to seeing you Maximus,” Angel purred into the phone. He heard Max take a sharp inhale.
Bingo.
“I thought of you quite a bit last night.”

“And what did you think about?” Max whispered.

Fuck. If you only knew.
“I thought about you in my arms again. I thought about kissing you slowly, tasting you again. I thought about tasting you everywhere, Maximus.” Angel’s voice was five octaves deeper than normal.

He heard Max let out a throaty groan.
Yes, you sexy fucker.

“Dammit Angel. The fucking things you say. No one’s ever talked to me like you do. It does things to me.” Max’s voice was so low it was barely audible. “I want to hear a lot more of that talk tonight…and oh yeah, Angel…”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Wear your hair out.” Max hung up, leaving Angel slack-mouthed and panting.

Angel was so fucking hot he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. He practically ran to his office bathroom and locked himself inside.

He leaned back against the door and yanked his pants down and jerked his dick so hard and fast he saw stars when he came. Max was already his weakness and he hadn’t even slept with the man yet, but that was surely going to change tonight.

By the time Jazz arrived Angel was so nervous he thought he might throw up. He couldn’t stop sweating as he paced back and forth in his walkin closet.
What have I become?
Angel couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual date. Men never wined and dined him. It was always meet up, have a few drinks, maybe take in a party, fuck, and part ways. No one ever touched his soul like Max. Men wanted Angel on their arm for show. Angel didn’t want to be used for the moment anymore…he wanted forever…he finally wanted love.

As he sat and stewed on that thought, he heard his alarm beep at Jazz using her key to let herself into his home. Her high heels click-clacked across the tiles in his foyer and he heard her practically run up the stairs. She bounced into Angel’s room, took one look at the multitude of clothes scattered across his large room, and fell onto his bed laughing in hysterics.

He thought about kicking her the hell out, but he still wanted to look his best even if he was a crazy mess on the inside.

“Jazz! Can you shut up and get your silly ass in here now!” he bellowed from deep in his closet.

“Angie, what is the matter with you? This is crazy. I have never seen you like this…ever! It’s just a date. Granted he is pretty awesome-looking, but he’s just like any other dude. He has a dick, balls, and too much fucking testosterone.” She stood with her hands on her hips, looking at him expectantly.

He flopped down on the chaise lounge in his large closet and dropped his head between his legs. He tried to take deep breaths but the air was evading him.
I’m fucking hyperventilating. Shit.
He felt Jazz’s delicate hands rub his shoulders.

Now a lot more serious, Jazz looked down at him. “Angie, talk to me.

What’s up? Why are you spazzing out like this?”

He reached up to touch her hands that were still massaging his shoulders, and picked his head up from between his knees even though it felt like it weighed a ton. “Jazz, I swear on everything that I know and love, that the man coming here tonight—” He paused letting his serious expression sink in

so she would know he meant every damn word he was saying. “This is the man that’s going to be my husband.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah you said it. Let me pull myself together, all right? Wait in the living room for me, sweetie.”

“Okay, babe, I’ll get the stuff for your hair.” She began to leave his room but stopped to inform him, “I’m gonna pour you a drink so you can relax a little before he gets here.” Turning to leave the room, she looked backed at him with caring eyes.

“I know, I love you too.”

Max was following the directions of the computer-generated voice of his GPS. He was extremely nervous, and it wasn’t just because it was his first date with a man. He really felt like he and Angel had a connection that he never would’ve felt with a woman. Angel was strong, he was successful, he was sexy as fuck, and he believed Angel could understand and love him for the man that he was. He had only told his brother about his date tonight. He wasn’t ashamed of Angel and he was going to prove it to him tonight.

However, he didn’t think he needed to tell his best friend Pierce or the other fighters yet, at least not until he knew this would last.

He turned onto Angel’s street and was a little taken aback at the lush oceanfront homes.
Shit, not only is he fucking gorgeous…he’s also loaded. Damn,
these homes have to be at least six thousand square feet. Shit.
He pulled up to Angel’s house and sat there for a couple of minutes admiring the landscaping in his front yard.
He probably has a service he uses for the lawn. There is no way he actual y
cuts this thing.
Max looked at his dashboard digital clock, it flashed 6:53 p.m.

He turned back and admired some of the other homes.
Stop stal ing, Max.

Here goes.
He dropped down out of his Dodge pickup.
This is the moment when
my life changes.

He stood at the top of the Roman-style brick porch and pressed the bell.

He leaned on one shoulder against the doorjamb to appear composed. He

took one last look at his attire and nervously smoothed down the front of his pale gray Armani silk shirt that was untucked from his black Balmain jeans.

The midnight Gucci blazer matched his Gucci shoes to perfection.
Thank
fuck I have a brother that’s obsessed with fashion and the same size as me. Otherwise I
would’ve worn my jeans and any shirt that was still clean.

He chuckled to himself as he remembered what Ryker said before he left his brother’s condo with the garment bag draped over his shoulder. “If you get one fucking drop of come on that five-thousand dollar outfit I will personally take every dime of it out of your well-fucked ass. Love you, have fun…don’t forget the lube.”

Max was still smiling to himself when one of the double doors opened to reveal a sight words couldn’t describe.
Oh hel yes Angel, to answer your question,
you are definitely mine.
He must’ve been staring too long because Angel extended his hand out to him. Instead of Max placing his hand into Angel’s as he expected him to, he produced a single long-stemmed crimson-colored rose from behind his back and placed it gently in Angel’s hand. It made Angel’s mahogany eyes appear almost black with pleasure, and his long eyelashes partly lowered as he slowly brought the rose to his nose and inhaled its sweet fragrance.

“Hello, Angel, you look breathtaking.”

“Come in, darlin’.” He stepped aside and let Max into the dimly lit foyer.

Max spun around and continued to let his eyes feast on the gorgeous man. It felt almost surreal to him. Not only was he on a date with a guy, but he’d never been this excited in his life. Looking at Angel he almost felt like he was going on a date with a celebrity. Angel looked at him with more than a little “want” in his eyes and held out his arms. Max didn’t hesitate. They held each other tenderly, neither wanting to let go although they’d only been apart twenty-four hours. Max was first to break the silence. “This might sound fucking crazy, but I missed you, Angel.” Max blushed when Angel pulled back to look in his eyes.

“Damn, I was actually thinking the same thing, but I didn’t want to frighten you. You know, thinking it would be a little cheesy to say that since I

just saw you yesterday.” Angel stated, uncertainty tainting his deep voice.

Max continued to stare and grasped Angel’s hands and looked into his eyes.

“Angel, you know this is foreign land for me. I’m feeling my way through this…trying to learn my way around. More than anything, I need for you to be completely honest with me. No matter what, always let me know what’s up.”

Angel gave a slight nod before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Max’s lips. It started slow and sensual, familiarizing themselves with each other’s mouth before they both turned on the heat.

Angel’s mouth was so damn soft and firm at the same time. He tasted of cinnamon and very expensive bourbon. He didn’t want the kiss to end anytime soon. Max never would’ve guessed kissing a man could be so good.

Angel kissed him like a man, too—strong and demanding.

Max loved that there was no irritatingly sticky fruit-flavored gloss or dark red lipstick all over his mouth when he finished.

Max wound his hands through Angel’s hair and stroked the long silky strands to the ends. “So beautiful…so soft. Thank you for wearing it down tonight,” he whispered, continuing to let the silky strands thread through his fingers.

Angel’s head rolled back as Max continued to caress his hair.

“Mmmmm,” Angel moaned. “Maybe we should just stay right here for the rest of the evening.”

“Heck no, I want you to give me a tour of your home, it’s freaking huge.” Max looked around the large, beige-marbled foyer with the large mahogany table in the center. The largest gold-potted fern Max had ever seen sat in the center. The overhead chandelier was not a frilly crystal-and-gold monstrosity, it was made of some type of wrought iron. It looked unique and expensive.

“My house is not that big, darlin’.”

“Compared to my condo it sure as hell is.”

“Maybe a quick tour, and then I’m going to feed you.”

“No, I’m going to feed you, this is my date… remember?”

“Anything you say, babe.” Angel laid a moist kiss on his neck. Max realized that he liked the sound of Angel’s submission a little too much
.
He let Angel take his hand and lead him into the adjacent room, which looked to be a formal dining room. It had eight place settings complete with blue charger plates underneath white and blue dinner plates, shiny silver stemware, and water goblets with a deep blue cloth napkin that perfectly matched the table cloth tucked neatly inside it.
I wonder if he designed al this
himself.

“In case you are wondering…I didn’t design the rooms,” Angel stated matter-of-factly. Max smiled at the fact that Angel knew what he was thinking. “It was actually quite simple. They send an interior designer to ask you a million questions about your favorite colors and your most-hated colors. She works on each room individually, getting your approval here and there, three months later you have the final product.”

Max barely heard a word Angel said as he pointed out objects and moved from room to room. Max was transfixed at the way his shiny hair flowed down to his sculpted ass that was encased in soft brown leather pants. His ass was tight and round. Max’s sexual thoughts about a man felt peculiar and natural all at the same time. He blinked out of his trance and noticed Angel staring at him expectantly. “Huh…what did you say?” Max stammered.

“You okay babe? I asked if you played pool.”

Shit.
Max didn’t even realize that they were now standing in what must be the entertainment room.
I don’t even remember walking in here…damn!
Angel was standing there with a smug smirk on his face, leaning against a professional sized pool table in the middle of the room. Max blushed and stared at the beautiful pure white felt-top table, with cobalt blue sub rails. It was stunning, and it looked like it was never played on.
Never understood why people waste money
with these elaborate show pieces and never use them. Half the time the owners don’t even
know how to play the game.

A seventy-five-inch television was mounted on the wall in front of ten plush recliners. All around the room were various entertainment activities: darts, video arcade games, cool-ass pinball machines, and even a marble chess board already set-up. It was every bachelor’s dream pad.

“Yeah, I like the game. I’m not a pool shark or anything, but I do okay.

Question is, are you any good at it?” Max asked with a little more arrogance in his voice then he’d intended.

“Want to play a quick game of nine ball, shouldn’t take long,” Angel said with a small smile playing on those kissable lips.

“Sure, why not.” Max grabbed a cue off the wall, and began to chalk the tip confidently.
This should be easy. Al Ryker and I did was go to the pool hal when
we were younger. Wait until he sees my trick butterfly shot.

“Want to make the game a little interesting…ya know…place a little bet?” Angel asked, his eyes already revealing his wager.

Max went to stand directly in front of Angel, letting his chest rub against his. “I don’t want to take that from you on the first date, my Angel.” He purred into his ear and felt the man give an involuntary shiver.