Hammer's Thief: A MM Paranormal Holiday Romance (Chosen Angels Book 2) by Alexis Woods

Author:Alexis Woods [Woods, Alexis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Woods End Publishing
Published: 2022-10-31T18:30:00+00:00

After a minute of struggle against the stronger man’s—angel’s?—grip, Locke resigned himself to being stuck for the moment. He refused to talk, couldn’t really, anyway. His brain swirled with outrageous ideas and outlandish possibilities, because Holy moly, Jay said he was “an angel of God.”

Nope. Not happening. The existence of angels… a thing of fiction.

He didn’t believe in God. He certainly wasn’t religious, only went to church or temple because the Foster Doctors took him. In fact, he’d often given thought, and curses, to a higher power who’d held no love for him.

Could angels exist without God?

And if there were angels, were there demons? If there was Heaven, was there Hell, and was he destined to spend eternity in its fiery clutches? Locke shuddered, and Jay’s arms tightened around him.

Why send an angel to me? Why me at all?

That’s what he couldn’t figure out. A second chance? For me?

What of the attraction between them? Weren’t angels celibate beings? He’d read plenty of stories and seen movies where a guardian angel falls in love with his or her charge, dooming them to become mortal when they fell to Earth.

But Jay said he wasn’t my angel.

He grated his teeth. Too many questions gave him a headache. Dropping his head sideways against Jay’s shoulder, he sought confirmation. “Are you real? I mean, I didn’t imagine what I saw earlier, did I? You were glowing.”

“You didn’t.”

Locke squirmed again, testing Jay's hold, determined if Jay let him go, he’d bolt. When Jay’s grip tightened, Locke settled. He really didn't want to leave. These past few nights had been a blessing, a reprieve from the dirt, grime, and bitter cold. A salvation from the loneliness he never wanted to get used to but had resigned himself to.

Jay’s heat penetrated Locke deeply, his body and mind relaxing in the warm embrace. He shifted, snuggling into the broad chest, and laid a hand over Jay’s heart. His fingers curled of their own accord, passing over the ribbed texture of the compression tee. Its tight fit showcased every curve and muscle and valley, and Locke absently traced the indentations in the fabric.

He worried about the fact he’d hit Jay. No way was he apologizing for striking the man… angel… whatever. Jay didn’t seem to want or need it, anyway.

He knows he’s at fault.

Jay’s slow, measured breathing lulled Locke into a calmer state, and he came to terms with the truth: the man who held him wasn't truly a man at all. He was an angel sent to help him… do what?

The niggling anxiety of not knowing increased, and Locke pursed his lips, nails digging into the material. Jay covered his hand, stopping the random movements.

“Ask.” Jay’s voice rumbled through Locke. He pushed up so he could look at the angel’s face, stare into his eyes, and demand the truth.

“Why are you here? I mean, with me. Are you here to get me off the streets? To unite me with my father?”

“Yes.”

The blunt answer held no appeal for Locke; he needed more.

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