by Mia Madison
Angel’s Fantasy
Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance
Mia Madison
Contents
Kimbella’s Prologue
Angel’s Prologue
1. Angel
2. Kimbella
3. Angel
4. Kimbella
5. Angel
6. Kimbella
7. Angel
8. Kimbella
9. Angel
Angel’s Epilogue
Kimbella’s Epilogue
About the Author
Kimbella’s Prologue
I knew he wanted me.
I could see it in his eyes every time he’d look my way.
He wanted me on my knees, wanted me bent over his bed—or maybe his knee. He wanted to fuck me so hard he couldn’t stand it.
And the thing that drove him crazy?
He knew he couldn’t have me.
If I would’ve given him half a chance, Angel Garcia would’ve jumped at the chance to get his dick wet. I knew it for a fact, even though he’d never admitted how thirsty he was for a piece of ass.
I might have only been twenty-one, and he might’ve been my dad’s age, but that didn’t matter to him, and it only made me want to tease him more.
Whenever he was around, my heart would beat faster and my chest would tighten in anticipation.
Anticipation of the chase.
The game.
I might have pretended not to notice—like today, when I was looking down at my phone as I crossed the courtyard to my dad’s condo, I could still feel Angel’s eyes on me. I could sense him looking, wanting, lusting.
It didn’t even matter to him that my dad was standing right there with him, talking business or… whatever they would always talk about. Angel’s eyes were boldly roaming over my body, just the way they always did. I loved how sexy it made me feel, and how forbidden it felt, like our little sexy secret.
But it also made me want to know more.
Did he appreciate the curve of my hips? Or the fact that my shirt was always a little too tight, a little too low-cut—particularly for the boring-ass Sociology class I’d just left?
The fact that my professor looked at me the same way Angel did was just a bonus.
I peeked up through my eyelashes as I got closer to the two men. “Hi, Daddy,” I said, smiling sweetly at my father. He barely seemed to notice, only inclining his head slightly in my direction and grunting out a couple of syllables that could charitably be described as a greeting before picking back up where he’d left off with Angel.
Whatever.
I wouldn’t have spoken to him at all if Angel hadn’t been standing there. The sweet smile, the tight top, the extra sway in my walk were all for Angel’s benefit, after all.
I just couldn’t help it. I enjoyed the sexy game of cat and mouse we played—well, the game I played with him.
But even though I could tell he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be the cat or the mouse sometimes, I knew he enjoyed it, too. I might not have trusted anything that came out of his mouth, but the look in his eyes and the bulge in his pants didn’t lie.
“What’s good, Bella?” Angel asked with a playful wink followed by a quick up-and-down look that my dad seemed to be completely oblivious of as he droned on without even stopping to breathe. Only after Angel interrupted him again to speak to me did my dad sigh and stop to light up a cigarette.
Angel turned to face me, giving up any pretense that he’d been listening to my father. “Did you learn anything in school today?”
I cut my eyes at him and tossed my hair back, stopping just a few feet away from him as I decided how I wanted to answer. I’d already corrected him enough times over the years about my name. With a name like Kimbella, I’d long ago come to terms with the fact that most people were gonna try to shorten it somehow. But most people who knew me went with Kim, or even simply K.
Not Angel, though. He always insisted on Bella—beautiful in Italian—even though he’s Cuban, I’m half-black, and our block of South Beach condos were about as far from Italy as they could be.
None of that seemed to matter to Angel. His playful, almost sarcastic tone told me that he called me Bella because nobody else did, and because he knew how much it annoyed me.
I played my game with him, and he played his with me.
“We talked about the patriarchy,” I said, pausing to stretch a little, to arch my back just enough to prove that I still had the upper hand in our little exchange. Predictably, his hungry eyes shifted to my chest, and I could feel my sensitive nipples harden slightly as the thought of his teeth grazing across them flashed through my mind. I shifted my weight a little, flipping my hair again as I walked between the two men. “And we talked about how threatened most men feel around a strong woman. But no… I didn’t learn anything today that I didn’t already know.”
My dad frowned and looked directly at me for the first time since I’d interrupted their conversation. “That’s enough talking, Kimbella. Go on inside and start dinner while Mr. Garcia and I finish up here.”
I cut my eyes at Angel, who shot me a wicked grin in return. I hadn’t expected my dad to follow my talk about the patriarchy and strong women, but the irony of the moment hadn’t been lost on Angel.
It was another thing that I found sort of irresistible about the man. He understood me just as well and I understood him.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour, Daddy,” I said, choking back any hint of sarcasm or back-talk. My father wasn’t a well-educated man, but he didn’t put up with too much attitude, either. And even though his rules and his old-fashioned thinking made it sometimes feel like I was living in a convent, it was worth biting my tongue and keeping my mouth shut to stay with him rent-free while I finished college.
I’d promised my mom before she died that I’d get a degree, that I’d take care of myself and my father. It was a promise I hadn’t made lightly, and one I intended to keep.
“Try not to work too hard, Bella,” Angel said, still smirking slightly as he turned back to face my dad.
I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to say something back, but snapped it shut after a moment. What good would it have done to speak up?
Both men were infuriating, but in very different ways.
Still, when I turned to go back into the house, I could feel Angel’s eyes on me again, burning into me.
Looking.
Wanting.
Needing.
I didn’t turn back, though. I stayed strong, even though the feel of his gaze on my ass was doing things to me that I’d never have admitted.
Maybe he was better at playing our little game than I’d given him credit for.
Angel’s Prologue
My little Bella.
I shoved a hand back through my hair and silently laughed at the thought as I looked out my living room window across the courtyard. From the countless nights of poker games in her old man’s condo, I knew that the window that faced mine—the one I’d been blankly staring at for longer than I cared to admit—was hers.
I smirked as I chuckled again to myself. I had no doubt she’d be mad as hell to know I thought of her as mine.
But that’s exactly how I saw her.
I’d been friendly with her family for years, ever since they’d moved into the condo across the courtyard from mine, but I didn’t really spend much time over there until after her mother died. Bella had been younger then—just a teenager—with only the slightest hint of the woman she’d become.
After she turned eighteen, and especially now that she was twenty-one, that lonely,
grief-stricken teenager was nowhere to be found. The woman who had taken her place was confident and smart and sexy as fuck. And even though she didn’t know it—hell, even I didn’t know how it would happen—there was no doubt that I’d have her.
That someday, somehow, she’d be on her knees in front of me.
Looking up at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes.
Ready.
Waiting.
Mine.
My dick was already hard just thinking about it—about her—but as I stood there looking out my window, absently rubbing myself through the thin fabric of my slacks, a light turned on across the courtyard.
Bella’s bedroom light.
I swallowed hard as my throat suddenly went dry and my cock throbbed insistently, ready to be free of the constricting fabric.
Even though I could just barely make out her silhouette beyond the gauzy curtains, just knowing she was there was doing things to my body that were more in line with a horny teenager’s raging hormones than a grown man in his forties.
But that’s what she did to me. That’s what just the thought of her did to me, and she knew it.
I stepped back into the shadows of my darkened living room, not wanting to seem like a total pervert standing in front of the window playing with myself. Still, I wasn’t about to look away. The perfect woman—literally the woman of my dreams—was on the other side of those curtains, and I couldn’t have stopped fantasizing about her in that moment even if I’d wanted to.
As if she’d been reading my mind—and as if she’d been intentionally torturing me—she parted the curtains and reached out to raise her window, the warm air of the Miami night catching her hair and fanning it out across her shoulders as she straightened back up and stretched out like an exotic cat.
I groaned, letting my hand slip down inside the waistband of my pants, finally able to grip my cock as I watched her put on a little private show.
Seeing her standing there in her bra and panties would’ve been enough by itself to get me off, but when she propped a long, sexy leg up on the window sill and started rubbing in lotion, tossing her hair to the side and making me wish more than anything that I was close enough to see even more?
Yeah, that was definitely going to push me over the edge if I didn’t stop right then.
But fuck that. There was no way in hell I was gonna stop.
Impatient for the release that I could already feel building inside me, I quickly shoved my pants and underwear down around my thighs, my grateful cock slapping against my stomach as it sprang free.
My hand instinctively reached down to wrap around my shaft, but my eyes never left Bella. She was like a goddess standing there, backlit from her bedroom while the moonlight fell tantalizingly over the front of her body, hiding just enough in the shadows to keep my imagination working overtime as I stroked faster and faster.
Fuck.
Did she have any idea how fucking beautiful she was? Her clothes always accentuated her curvy figure, but now that I could see her almost naked? There was no doubt in my mind that she’d be drop-dead sexy no matter what she wore.
Those big tits and wide hips that tapered down to those long, fucking gorgeous legs? She couldn’t have hidden curves like that even if she’d wanted to.
She turned her head and looked across the courtyard, directly at the space I’d been standing in just a few minutes before—almost as if she’d been expecting to see me there.
My cock jumped in my hand as I took another step back. I wanted her to see me, to see what she did to me, but not now. Not like this.
No, if she was going to see me naked, it would be after she was down on her hands and knees, looking up at me with those perfect, pouty lips and begging for the thick cock in my hand.
“Oh, fuck.” I let out a low moan as I stroked faster, harder, just thinking about the way her mouth would feel as it teased the head of my cock before her lips wrapped around my shaft, and the way her hair would feel as I slid my fingers through it while I thrust my cock into her mouth the same way I was thrusting into my fist.
She stepped back away from the window, but it didn’t matter. I’d seen enough—more than enough—to keep the fantasy going, and my hips bucked as my hand flew up and down my shaft, bringing me to the very edge of my climax.
I closed my eyes and pictured her looking up at me, those big, full tits pressed together as she waited, mouth open, for me to come.
And that was all it took, all I needed to finally find my release.
“Fuck, Bella,” I growled as the first pearly white jets exploded from my cock, spilling over my fist and onto the floor below.
My breath came in short, loud bursts as I came over and over, the intensity of my orgasm leaving me panting and weak in the knees as I finally opened my eyes again to see that the light had gone out in her bedroom, leaving it completely dark again, almost as if she’d never been there at all.
There was no doubt that it had been real, though, and I didn’t need my still-rock-hard cock or the evidence I’d left on myself and the floor to tell me that.
Even if she hadn’t been aware of it, she’d been toying with me, teasing me the way she always did. And even though it was sometimes frustrating and always left me with a case of aching blue balls, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
I loved the chase, the game, the anticipation.
And I knew that someday, somehow, I’d find a way to win that game, to end the chase.
To make that hot-as-hell fantasy into reality.
Angel
I looked at the clock and let out the deep breath I’d been holding.
In five minutes, it would be one in the afternoon—an hour past the latest deadline I’d given Calvin, which was two weeks after the original deadline.
I shook my head. Some guys just never learned.
Normally, Calvin and the rest of the guys we played cards with had a gentleman’s agreement when it came to our gambling debts. Some weeks we’d be up, some weeks we’d be down, but no matter what happened, we’d always settle up by the time poker night rolled around again.
We didn’t have to worry about it, and we didn’t have to explain it—that’s just how we did things.
Except for Calvin.
He had a reputation for being down more often than he was up, and every one of us had let some of his smaller debts go on occasion, because that was just good karma. It’s what guys did.
Not this time, though. Calvin owed me ten grand, and after weeks of excuses and broken promises, my patience had run out.
Today was the day he’d have to pay up, one way or another.
I just hoped, for his sake, that he didn’t try anything stupid. I left the window where I’d been pacing and crossed the room to pull my Glock from under the couch cushion before tucking it into the waistband of my slacks.
I might be hoping for the best, but I was prepared for the worst. I’d learned over the years that when a man is cornered, there’s no telling what he might do—no matter how badly that might end.
With a heavy sigh, I put on my tailored jacket—black, for business—and took one last look across the courtyard.
“Time to pay the piper, friend,” I said aloud. “I hope you’re ready.”
I walked the short distance across the courtyard from my condo to Calvin’s, silently dreading the confrontation that was about to take place even though I was careful to keep my features blank and emotionless—another survival skill I’d honed well over the years of side hustles and shady business partners.
There was no part of me that wanted to do this, but that didn’t change the reality that I had to. I might like Calvin as a friend, but I couldn’t let him take advantage of me. All the other guys we played cards with knew the situation, and it wouldn’t take long before they started to think I was weak.
When that day came, I might as well open my wallet and leave town. My business dealings in Miami would be finished if nobody respected me.
If nobody
feared me.
So, by the time I was standing in front of Calvin’s door, I had made peace with what I had to do. Hopefully, he’d pay his debt quietly and we could both go about our day as if nothing had happened. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to rough him up—or worse.
But those hopes didn’t mean that I wasn’t prepared for whatever I might have to do, no matter how distasteful.
I knocked the same way I’d been knocking every day for years—three short, loud raps on the door—but when first one minute passed, and then another, then another, I knew that Calvin was likely on the other side of that door pissing himself.
He knew what day it was, and how much time had passed. He knew our agreement.
He knew this wasn’t just a social call.
And when he finally answered the door, head down and unable to make eye contact, I knew one more thing for certain.
He still didn’t have the money.
“Good, um—” Calvin swallowed hard, finally looking up to meet my gaze. “Good afternoon, Angel. How’s everything going?”
For several long seconds, I remained silent, just staring at him—almost willing him to somehow prove me wrong and suddenly come up with the cash he owed me.
But he and I both knew that wasn’t going to happen, and the more I prolonged the inevitable, the weaker it made me look.
“Everything could be better, Calvin,” I said, flatly. Don’t show any emotions. This is just business. He’s not your friend right now. He can’t be. “I think you know why I’m here.”
His eyes broke away from mine for a split-second and darted to the staircase behind him. Shit. Was Bella home? I’d hoped she’d be out—in class or with friends or somewhere else—for his sake as much as my own. The last thing I wanted was for her to see or hear what might happen next.