Blue Moon: Too Good to Be True (11 page)

“Can’t take what I’m willing to give.” He purred right back into Max’s mouth.

“Touché.” Max chuckled softly.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Angel asked out of the blue.

“Nope, I’m off until Tuesday. I work four on and four off. Why…you plan on keeping me up all night?”

“You wish, don’t you?” Angel said seductively.

Max’s lower region immediately heated at the idea.
Fuck.

“No, actually, I was thinking the loser has to give the winner a lap dance at my club tomorrow night.” Angel smiled innocently, as if he’d just placed a simple five-dollar wager.

Max doubled over with laughter. “Are you serious? You’re going to give me a lap dance?”

“Of course I will.” Angel shrugged. “If I lose. It can even be done in private. No one else will be around, it’ll just be me, you, and the winner’s favorite song.”

“You got it, sexy. This is going to be fun! Don’t take this ass-whipping personally, but I’ve got to see you gyrate that hot ass of yours on my lap!”

Max grinned like a fool, while he watched Angel bend over the long table and set up the balls.

Angel continued with his innocent smile and asked Max. “You want to break?”

“Wow. Offering up a lap dance and I can shoot first.” Max feigned shock.

“Just shut up and break the damn balls.” Angel swatted him on the ass as Max leaned over to break.

Max shot upright. “Hey! No distracting the shooter either.” Max lined up his cue again, and put enough force into his shot to make the crack of the balls sound loud even in the large room. Max saw the number six ball go into the side pocket.

“Nice break,” Angel replied drily.

“Thank you babe…hey, relax…it’s too early to get nervous.” Max called his next shot. “Number three, side pocket.” He took his time lining up the cue ball for his shot. He noticed Angel standing by the side pocket, his bulge directly in Max’s line of sight. Max took his shot and missed.
Fuck. He did that
on purpose, but that’s okay. I’m still gonna win.

Angel walked around the table past Max. Max reached his hand out and cupped Angel’s cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. Angel reacted by wrapping his arm around Max’s waist. Max slowly released him. “That was for luck,”

he whispered softly against Angel’s wicked lips.

Angel snorted a laugh and got ready for his shot. He lined up his cue, called his shot, and with a quick jerk of his arm the cue ball hopped the eight and pushed through the four and five ball, sinking the number two ball into the side pocket and the nine ball into the corner pocket.

“Good game, baby,” Angel said calmly, while Max stared at the pool table with his mouth hanging open and his stick dangling loosely in his hand.

“What the fuck did you just do, Angel? I blinked and the nine ball was in the pocket…holy shit! Where the hell did you learn that?”

“Darlin’, when playing nine ball you should break on the head string at a medium paced speed. Otherwise, when you break hard like you did using every muscle you have in your arm it’s going to push the nine out of the protection of the center and close to a pocket. You have to always remember to keep the nine ball in the center or else the game will be over very quickly.

Then you’re left owing up your side of the bet.” Angel’s smile shined brighter than a hundred-watt light bulb.

“Okay…so you hustled me. I got that part, but again, where did you learn that?” Max was still shocked.

“I went to Penn State on a partial billiard’s scholarship.” He winked at Max
.

Max stalked toward Angel. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I agreed to that damn bet?” he said, wrapping his arms around Angel and sucking hard on his neck.

“Mmmm. Fuck.” Angel groaned. “Well, you didn’t ask and since you were concentrating on other things when we walked in, I guess you didn’t notice the pictures over there on the wall.”

Max lifted his head from Angel’s neck and walked over to the wall that held several trophies, awards, and accomplishments. Not only did he have a partial billiard’s scholarship, he also had an academic scholarship. He was nine-ball champion for three straight years.
No shit.
Max’s eyes were glued to the picture encased in a polished mahogany frame of Angel leaning over a pool table preparing to take the winning shot. His long midnight mane hung over his left shoulder, fanning out onto the green felt. His dark eyes gleamed with concentration.
Priceless.

“You continue to amaze me, handsome.” Max’s smile was full of adoration.

“Flattery will get you anything you want, darlin’. C’mon, I’m starved.”

Smile.
“Me too.”

They headed toward the door while sliding into their light blazers. Angel set the alarm and locked his door. They stepped out into the cool breeze of the night. The moon was bright and high above their heads, as if it shown itself just for them. Feeling elated, Angel hooked Max’s elbow, spun him around and slammed their strong chests together. He leaned in close and growled low in Max’s ear. “My favorite song is ‘Moves Like Jagger.’”

Angel released his grip and strolled off the porch as if he owned the world.
Great. I hate that fucking song,
Max thought.
But a bet is a bet
.

Chapter Nine

The restaurant Max chose astonished Angel. The Cobalt Mirage was in the Grand Hilton Hotel at the end of Atlantic Avenue, thirty-two blocks from Angel’s club. It was one of the most expensive restaurants on the oceanfront and it usually required a reservation made a month in advance.

Angel would never dare insult Max and ask him how he’d gotten the reservation so quickly.
He’s trying to impress me…nice.

Dinner was phenomenal, but the conversation was even better. They talked about so much that Angel began to feel like he really knew the man destined to be his. Max told him about his overprotective older brother, and how he had taken care of Max since Max was very young. His aunt raised them after his mom passed. He spoke of how he always wanted to be a firefighter. His man was so wonderful and interesting as he talked about the goals he’d set in his life, and what goals he had for the future. But he was also interested in hearing about Angel’s plans too.

Angel explained how he wanted to open another club on the boardwalk.

How important his extended family, his bar family, was to his life, and all they had been through together. Angel told Max about his father and all the training he had growing up.

“My father is in the US Special Forces. He’s a Navy Seal. He performed direct action for twenty-five years, doing three long tours before retiring from active duty. Now he and my uncles are contracted by the Seals as combat and guerilla warfare specialists to train new recruits.”

“Damn, are you serious? They all taught you martial arts?”

“Yeah, baby, but don’t worry…I’ll never use any of it on you.” He winked and paused, enjoying seeing Max squirm in his seat.
“
He taught me how to fight, because he knew I was gay even before I did. He refused to let me be a victim of the type of violence a lot of gay men face. I am thankful he did, because it’s gotten me out of more than one shitty situation.”

“That’s pretty awesome. Your dad sounds kinda scary though.”

“He is.” Angel winked again.

Max seemed very comfortable at dinner and Angel’s stomach was finally relaxed. He was no longer concerned about Max being skeptical about being on a date with a man. He even held Angel’s hand while the waitress took their order, and stole little feels under the table. Angel was not oblivious to the eyes that tracked his man as they walked through the large restaurant.

Max didn’t realize how strikingly handsome he was. Decked out head-to-toe in Gucci damn near made Max edible.

After dinner was over Max suggested they walk along the boardwalk for a while. Angel always enjoyed walking on the beach, but he’d never had anyone to do it with. When they got to the boardwalk Max put his hand in Angel’s and they began to walk.
Al these people around and he’s not the least bit
uncomfortable.
Angel walked with his man in silence, both content with breathing in the salty air and listening to the waves crash against the surface.

After fifteen blocks they realized they were completely alone, no one else venturing down this far. The few businesses on this end were already closed for the evening, giving them some privacy. Max turned and leaned against the railing, pulling Angel against him.
I wish I knew what he was thinking when he
looked at me like that,
Angel thought.

Then Max was kissing him passionately, holding him tight against his strong chest. This kiss was unlike the others. This kiss was making promises to Angel, promising him forever. Angel felt the overwhelming urge to be claimed by this magnificent man in the most primal, animalistic way.
I need
him now, I can’t wait any longer, I have to have him inside of me.

“Your hair is so beautiful, Angel, I think it’s becoming my weakness,”

Max said into Angel’s neck. “It reminds me of Antonio Banderas in the movie
Interview with a Vampire
.”

Angel chuckled.
Now that’s new.
“Oh really. Did you find him sexy, baby?”

Angel looked into Max’s eyes. He already considered this man his.

“No…I find you hot…only you,” he confessed.

“Come back with me to my house, Max. You have no idea what I
want
…no…what I
need
to do to you right now.” Angel didn’t care if he was begging again, he would beg this man forever. The raw edge of his voice betrayed his composure. He had none when it came to Max. It frightened

him and thrilled him simultaneously.
What if he doesn’t think he can actual y bring
himself to fuck another man? What if we can only take this relationship so far…fuck.

“
Yes, I would love to spend the night with you.” Max cut off Angel’s last thought.

The drive back was faster than Max expected. They were now sitting in his truck in front of Angel’s home. Max felt Angel’s firm hand stroking his as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. “I’m not scared, babe, just a little nervous.”
Understatement of the fucking century,
Max thought.

“Come on, let’s go inside and have a couple of drinks to calm those nerves,” Angel replied soothingly.

“Okay, that sounds good.” Max was hoping he didn’t have to get almost drunk to relax.

After two Glencairn glasses of Makers Mark bourbon, they were in Angel’s very spacious bedroom. Angel didn’t bother turning on the lights because the moonlight cast a warm glow through the skylights. Angel was on the bed on his side with his arm propping up his head. His hair cascaded on the pillows behind him.
Fucking beautiful.

Max continued to walk around the room, feeling Angel’s midnight gaze following and tracking his every move. It gave him chill bumps. The art on the wall had to be original paintings, most of them Native American influence. “Are you Native American, Angel?”

“My father’s line is Oneida, and my mother is Hispanic.”

“Explains the hair.” Max winked at him, as he continued his tour. The furniture was large and cozy. There was a chaise lounge and two recliners atop an expensive-looking area rug. All the furniture was in various shades of blue.
I guess I don’t have to ask him his favorite color.
There were no frilly throw pillows or unnecessary knickknacks, it was a man’s room. Despite the huge, sixty-inch television mounted on the wall, Angel looked as if he spent a lot of time reading. There were five bookshelves of various genres and authors. He

looked at some of the book spines. There were autobiographies, how-to books, and romance.
Interesting
, he thought.
Sure reads a lot of gay fiction.

Max was still looking at the bookshelf when he finally heard Angel command him in his deep, bourbon-laced voice. “Come here, Maximus.”

Holy fucking hel .

Max let Angel pull him onto the huge bed that was large enough for a ten-person orgy. He cupped Max behind his neck and stared at him. Angel’s powerful gaze was penetrating and tearing through a thin surface of Max’s barrier. What Angel was trying to get through osmosis he had no clue, but Max had no choice but to break the eye contact. Angel’s firm grip tightened on his neck as he pulled Max in for a soul-searching kiss. The kiss was just as passionate as the one on the beach, saying all types of things that were too early to be said out loud.

Damn. I don’t real y know what to do, here. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What am I doing?

Am I gonna fuck him? Is he gonna fuck me? Shit. It’s gonna fucking hurt. Shit!

There was an internal, emotional battle in Max’s mind. Max’s gray eyes darted back and forth between Angel and the bedroom door.

Angel licked Max’s soft full lips, the roof of his mouth, and everywhere else his tongue could reach. He laid soft kisses on the lightly stubbled jaw until he got to Max’s tender place…right behind his earlobe. Max let out a loud, deep moan, and felt Angel smile against his face.

“That feel good to you, baby?” Angel spoke with his lips still on his spot.

Max’s mind and body began to feel the two glasses of warm bourbon he’d just consumed as he let his wayward thoughts rest, and reclined back into the soft bedding. He was still relishing in Angel’s assault on his sweet spot when he felt Angel maneuvering himself on top of him.
Stay calm…damn
he feels good…heavy…but good. His dick feels…wow…it feels good too. Real good,
damn…mmmm.
Max was stunned for a couple of minutes, before his mind caught up with his body. Then he realized he was thrusting up into Angel, moaning and panting in his ear.

“Fuck…you feel so damn good, Max…I knew you would. Your body belongs underneath me.” Angel moaned.