Blind Date

By Noa Diamond

Who better to have a first-time gay experience with than an older billionaire?

Lexi Rush is pretty normal. He's not a stand-up guy, but he's not an a-hole either. He makes a living off his pretty face and lives in a nice enough apartment. He has people he loves, but no one he'd take a bullet for. Around him life happens without incident, until he meets tech billionaire Gideon Wave.

Despite being worth more than the GDP of several small countries, and having all the right friends in high places, Gideon is going blind and can't do anything to stop it. When he meets the supposedly straight Lexi, who looks strikingly like his first and only love, Gideon offers Lexi a once in a lifetime opportunity—if Lexi agrees to go out with Gideon on the last Valentine's Day he'll experience before his sight is completely gone.

Lexi initially agrees just so he can get closer to a man with powerful connections, but soon finds himself feeling things for the billionaire that he has never felt before. Will their date be a huge mistake? Or will they discover love is truly blind?

Blind Date is a gay romance novella. Readers should expect: M/M scenes between an older man and younger man, zero cliffhangers, and a happy ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Noa Diamond
• Release date: Sep 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393727026

Book preview

Summary

Who better to have a first-time gay experience with than an older billionaire?

Lexi Rush is pretty normal. He’s not a stand-up guy, but he’s not an a-hole either. He makes a living off his pretty face and lives in a nice enough apartment. He has people he loves, but no one he’d take a bullet for. Around him life happens without incident, until he meets tech billionaire Gideon Wave.

Despite being worth more than the GDP of several small countries, and having all the right friends in high places, Gideon is going blind and can’t do anything to stop it. When he meets the supposedly straight Lexi, who looks strikingly like his first and only love, Gideon offers Lexi a once in a lifetime opportunity—if Lexi agrees to go out with Gideon on the last Valentine’s Day he’ll experience before his sight is completely gone.

Lexi initially agrees just so he can get closer to a man with powerful connections, but soon finds himself feeling things for the billionaire that he has never felt before. Will their date be a huge mistake? Or will they discover love is truly blind?

Blind Date is a gay romance novella. Readers should expect: M/M scenes between an older man and younger man, zero cliffhangers, and a happy ending.

ONE

I know when someone wants me. Call it my superpower. I can tell the exact moment when they begin to ache for my fingers, tongue, and cock. Something in the air shifts.

That’s how I knew Gideon Wave wanted me, before I even spoke to him. Well, he wasn’t being discreet about it—he was blatantly staring at me when we met—but I swear my superpower picked up on exactly what he wanted: my hole, stretching on his cock. That, however, is out of the question, because I’m a straight man who loves the taste, scent, and sight of an aroused pussy. I feel the same thing when I look at cocks that I feel when I look at a stack of bowls or a set of keys: absolutely nothing stirring. They’re just there, part of the scenery in the gym showers or porn clip. And my asshole is completely forgotten if I’m not on a toilet, or cleaning my backside in the shower. The idea of another man turning it into a pleasure receptacle makes me want to gag.

But when Gideon asked me to come over to his place and have a drink, I couldn’t say no. I’m not broke, but I’m not rich like Gideon. Gideon is a billionaire—and who says no to having a drink with a billionaire? Another billionaire, maybe. Anyone else would say yes. Or, at least, that’s what I tell myself while I wait for him to answer his door. That’s what I tell myself while I stand there, dressed like a hustler in my tight tee, jeans, and meet me in the restroom, like we’re at the casual-dress sophomore dance, darling Chucks.

Gideon’s brownstone reminds me of him. He looks good for forty-two, but wears sensible, stuffy clothes that would be more appropriate on a seventy-year-old professor.

The brownstone is a muted beige color, with black molding up near the roof, and a black stoop, which gives it some flare. Gideon could live in a flashy Manhattan penthouse. He could own dozens if he wanted to, but he chose to live on a forgettable block in Chelsea, with empty nesters and people who treat pets like kids.

The man is one of the wealthiest people in the world, but I’m pretty sure he’s also one of the most boring men in New York, which isn’t making this easy for me. If he had some charisma I’d feel less guilty about flirting with a man who’s eighteen years older than me, and I could tell myself I’d hang out with him even if he didn’t have so much fucking money.

Hello there, Mr. Alexei Rush, Gideon says, as he opens the door with a thin smile.

Jesus. Does he have to talk like that? He sounds like my grandfather.

Everyone calls me Lexi, I tell him. Remember?

Right. Lexi. You’re early.

Oh, I say, as if I wasn’t aware. I reach into the back pocket of my jeans and check the time, for show. Sorry.

It’s no trouble, Gideon says, opening the door all the way. Come in.

He looks pleased that I showed up without putting much thought into the time, as if I left my place the second after I was finished getting ready, anxious to begin our time together. The truth is, I actually did put a lot of thought into the time, and made sure to be here early to elicit his exact reaction.

I step inside Gideon’s home and he closes the door, before gesturing for me to follow him. The inside of his brownstone is simple like the outside, for the most part. The minimalist design is disrupted slightly by an odd amount of antique furniture. Maybe a relative left it to him in their will or something? Every surface is sparkling clean, but that doesn’t impress me. It’s easy to keep your place spotless when someone lives off cleaning up after you. I wonder what he’s like with the help, if he even speaks to them or if he has an assistant who handles those things; someone who hands an envelope full of cash to an immigrant at the end of the week.

Richard’s work is through there, Gideon says, pointing down a wide, short hallway, and I remember why I’m supposedly here. I’ll meet you in there, in one moment.

Okay, I say, walking through the hallway into a huge dining room with brick walls and a glass table that takes up nearly the entire length.

I don’t see the paintings Gideon said he would show me, when we met at a charity art show I was paid to chronicle my night at on Snapchat. When I