Angel & Damon's New Year's Rockin' Eve

By A. E. Wasp

Some auld acquaintances should definitely be forget.

ANGEL

When Angel's jerk of an ex crashes his best friend's wedding, even the fictional boyfriend Angel made up isn't enough to make him leave. Angel needs a real fake boyfriend ASAP.

DAMON

What's worse than showing up alone to a wedding? When your cousin brings your ex as her plus one. There's not enough champagne in all of NYC to make that not suck.

Things take a turn for the much, much better when the smoking hot guy Damon's been staring at all night asks Damon to be his fake boyfriend for the night. Damon is more than happy to oblige, provided the guy does the same for him.

New Year's Eve just got a hell of a lot more rockin'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. E. Wasp
• Release date: Apr 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223329619

A. E. Wasp

After time spent raising children, earning several college degrees, focusing on professional and academic writing, and traveling the world with the U.S. State Department, she is returning to her first love writing. She writes romance because it is the people we love and who love us that give our lives meaning. She writes erotica because sex is one of the many ways we as humans connect to each other. She writes fantasy and paranormal fiction because inviting myth and fantasy into our worlds allows us to experience life more fully. She invites readers into her characters’ lives at a time when they are their most vulnerable, their most human. We connect with these characters and share their hopes and fears because they are ours, too. Born on Long Island, NY, Amy has lived in Los Angeles, London, and Bangkok. She currently in Fort Collins, Colorado, where she hopes to stay.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

DAMON

Please don’t punch me.

I get the impression of brown silk and coiled strength as the gorgeous man I’ve been subtly watching all day launches himself at me, knocks me off balance, and shoves me into the wall. Guess the scrawny ficus tree I’m trying to hide behind isn’t working as well as I hoped. Lucky me. 

I thought he was good looking when I saw him across the room, but when he tilts his face up to mine, I’m captivated. Thick dark eyelashes surround his silvery eyes which appear luminous in the dim light of the hotel hallway. The deep brown of his skin only makes his eyes more stunning. Beautiful, I whisper, the word slipping between my lips without my permission.

Can I kiss you? he whispers, the breath from his perfect plush lips brushing mine as softly as butterfly wings. There is desperation in his touch as he clenches my biceps. Help me? Please?

Oh, God. Being needed by a beautiful man is my kryptonite.

Fuck, yes, I say. Anything, you want, beautiful.

I have no idea what’s going on, but this wedding reception has just gotten one hundred percent better. His warm hand slides around the back of my neck, tilting my head down. Since I’m a good five inches taller than he is, he has to come up on his toes to kiss me. God, why is that so hot?

His eyes close, depriving me of that beautiful sight. My hands slide easily under his jacket, the space warm from the heat of his body. I anchor my hands on his hip bones, my fingers almost spanning the width of his slender body. His waistcoat is slippery under my hands.

He smells like expensive whiskey, smokey and sharp and warm, and he tastes like champagne. Kisses like this are not to be rushed. I gather there is some urgent reason he needs to be kissed right this moment, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to half-ass it. Our lips meet and retreat only to return at an even more devastating angle.

Unexpectedly moved by this surprisingly gentle encounter with a stranger, I cup his face with my hands. My mouth opens under the pressure of his lips and his tongue slips in like it has an invitation. Which, as far as I am concerned, it does.

Drawing the strong muscle into my mouth, I suck on it like a promise of what I can do to other parts of his body later, especially if he says please so prettily again. He moans softly, body relaxing against mine as he sinks into the kiss.

Angel? A man’s shocked voice intrudes on my brand new happy place. Obviously, I ignore him. Sadly, my new gorgeous friend tenses at the sound, all the beautiful relaxation vanished in a second. 

Is that your name? I ask quietly, our mouths still touching.

He nods almost imperceptibly.

I smile, lips sliding against his. Fitting.

Angel, the annoying man says peevishly. Stop that right now.

Leaving his hands on my shoulders, Angel lowers himself off his toes.

I keep my hands clasped around his waist. Kind of busy here, buddy, I say, looking over his shoulder at the other guy. I hope my expression accurately conveys how not impressed with him I am.

The guy is not bad looking, I guess. Generically handsome, with dark hair and olive skin. In his mid-thirties or possibly a well-preserved forty, he wears a stylish black suit, a black-on-black striped shirt, and a white pearl tie tack through the middle of his black tie. The look on his face can best be described as petulant.

Angel, he says, crossing his arms over his chest. Stop being ridiculous.

Angel smiles at me before he turns in my arms. He leans against my chest, and his rounded muscular ass presses into my groin, a very pleasing development.  My arms are still around him, and he covers my hands with his. I like his long fingers and the contrast of his smaller, darker hand against my wide pale hands. Christian, he says, sounding bored. How can I help you?

You can stop this nonsense and come back to the table. Our friends are asking where you are. His face goes through several expressions as if he’s not sure which approach will work best on Angel. Should he be angry? Sad? Cajoling?

Angel scoffs. First of all, they’re my friends. They hate you.

Understandable, I say.

Angel’s body shakes against me as he laughs. Secondly, he continues, "It’s not your