Holy hell. I swallow again. I love a nice ass on a man, and in those tuxedo pants I can tell his is spectacular. Pulling my leering gaze away I notice...the artwork around the room and the many bottles of wines aging all around us. The room is circular and quite beautiful. It combines the modern and the traditional together effortlessly, and the outcome is breathtaking. He hands me a glass, raises his in a silent toast, clinks with mine and takes a sip. I smile and sip, too. He takes my glass and. He was wearing a t-shirt I’d gotten him when he missed the concert of one his favorite bands. His brown hair looked wild, and a light beard graced his jaw. It made me happy to see him disheveled like this, I didn't want to be the only one grieving our break up. He knocked and called out, “Angel, I know you’re here. Come on and open up.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly painfully dry, “What do you want?” He jumped and peered through the peephole, I hurriedly stepped back. “Open the door.” I shook. More

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