Second Chances by T.A. Webb

Author:T.A. Webb [Webb, T.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2012-10-15T22:00:00+00:00

I LEFT about half after seven. My head and back and heart ached. For a minute, as I pulled out of the parking deck, I considered blowing off the massage and going and getting shitfaced. But I had to work the next day, and no damn way was I gonna get a DUI. What if Mom came home and went back into a coma and then died and I was in jail because I was being stupid and… nope. Not gonna go there.

So I kept driving, pulled out my cell to call Antonio, and let him know I was on my way. I could feel the tension in my neck and arms and thought, I really need this.

I pulled into the parking lot at the apartment complex at five minutes ’til eight. Got out and went right up to the door and knocked. I stood there for a minute and let the cool Atlanta night air fill my lungs. Looked around the courtyard and admired the fountain and the landscaping.

I didn’t remember this place being here last time I was in the Cheshire Bridge area. There used to be titty bars and head shops and a couple of bathhouses there back in the day. But not now—the streets were cleaner and the units were nice, graffiti-free and brand-new. The door opened and hot damn, that was Antonio?

He was almost six feet tall, head shaved with just a light peach fuzz starting to grow back in. Sharp Roman nose and angular features, tattoos on his forearms and neck. Deep-set blue eyes. I couldn’t really tell much about the body because he was wearing a T-shirt about three sizes too big and sleep pants and no shoes. And a huge smile.

“Mark, glad to meet you, man.” His voice was nice, deep, no trace of an accent. “Come in.”

I walked in and looked around. There wasn’t much furniture in the place, a leather couch and loveseat, a table in the dining area, a six foot table with a laptop and printer and God knows what all attached to it that took up the whole space. The kitchen area, right off the entryway, looked empty. All I saw there was a microwave and coffeemaker. Nothing else on the counters.

Off to one side, there was a hallway with what looked like two bedrooms, both doors closed, and a bath. There was a little sunroom with great windows on three sides, covered with mini blinds. In it sat a massage table. The lighting was low and there was Enya on the stereo. Of course.

“Sit down and let’s talk for a few minutes. Want something to drink?” he asked.

“Sure. Have some water?”

He pointed to the sofa and motioned for me to sit, and went into the kitchen. Damn, still couldn’t tell much about his ass with those baggy sleep pants. Oh well, I was here for a massage anyway, I thought.

He came back with a bottle of water for me and a glass of red wine for himself.

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