I really liked this story a lot. It’s not very long but Deanna Wadsworth manages to pack a lot of good reading into this novella.

Two men meet as the result of hiring a fantasy matchmaking service. They don’t realize that each of them is looking for the same thing: more than just a one-night-stand. I enjoyed the erotic scenes but I also enjoyed the palpable connection that Paul and Josef had on the page.

The nice long epilogue, set six months later, was a welcome addition to this story.

Mini rant from this reviewer that did not affect my rating: the blurb on Amazon makes no mention that this story was published previously. This is a pet peeve of mine and I think authors do their readers a disservice when they don’t disclose this information.

Reviews for Deanna Wadsworth

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Lord knew Paul was pretty sick of himself too. Sick of being alone. It sure would be nice to attend gallery parties with someone on his arm—someone who loved him.

Damn, he wanted that more than he cared to admit.

Would this mystery man named Josef be the answer?

Well, if he wanted to find out, he’d better get his bony ass up to the Cabaña Lounge.

Stepping off the elevator to the rooftop lounge, he smiled at the small sign stating black tie optional. But like Oscar Wilde said, “You can never be overdressed or overeducated.” Dressing down was never an option either, in Paul’s opinion. Sort of like when a guy invites you to his birthday party and the invite says “no gifts.”

Yeah, he knew better than that, too.

Though he wore his favorite tux, he had foregone the tuxedo shirt and bow tie, opting for a simple white silk shirt that accentuated his spray tan and whitened teeth.

Overdressed casual, he liked to call it.

The lounge patrons ranged from gray-haired seniors and over-forty, soft-in-the-middle types to pie-eyed honeymooners. A pair of old ladies in the corner might be lesbians, but Paul based that assumption solely on their footwear.

Really? Clarks with a cocktail dress?

Unbe-lee-vable!

Waiters walked around the open-air lounge with champagne, and he snagged one before making his way over to the bar—the designated location to meet his date. Soft tunes of a steel drum band playing in the corner filled the warm night with a delightful tinny sound. The sky had begun its transition from blue to pink as sunset approached—making the lighting perfect for his complexion. The scenic view of the sea would be mind-blowing in a few moments.

How fantastically romantic, watching the sunset together.

Excitement and nervous energy itched at his toes. Scanning the bar area, his eyes fell on a lone figure, his back to Paul, attention fixed on the vast ocean view.

Oh no, it can’t be….

Holding his breath as his stomach leapt into his throat, Paul approached. After another sweep of the lounge, this guy was the only single man in the entire place.

It had to be him, right?

Thick and muscular, he stood shorter than Paul’s own six-three, but more solid. He painted the picture of a fantasy, a perfect silhouette gazing out at the sea. If Paul let his mind wander, he could almost imagine the man morphing into swaths of paint, thick and sultry on the canvas. His hands were tucked into tailored white linen pants, stretching the fabric across the roundest and most delectable backside he’d ever laid eyes on. His rich mocha skin highlighted the seams of the woven fabric.

Fuck, did the man even have on underwear?

Please God, don’t let his pretty wife join him and shatter the illusion.

“Josef?” He tried to keep the hopefulness from his voice.

The man turned and Paul sucked in his breath.

Light hazel eyes met his and a sideways smile cut through a gorgeous face. “Oui, I am Josef.”

Oh, double fuck, he has an accent. Paul nearly swooned right there, but he managed to extend a hand. “I’m Paul.”

The man’s questioning smile widened into one of genuine delight, and a warm smooth hand wrapped around his. “Ah, bonjour, Paul.”

Before he saw it coming, Josef swept in, drawing him into a brief embrace before kissing each of his cheeks. He shivered from the warmth of a beautiful male body pressed against him. While everyone knew cheek kissing was the norm in many cultures, the brush of the man’s lips made him stifle a giggle.

Josef stepped back, not letting go of his hand.

A warm, tropical breeze teased the faint wetness those kisses had left on his cheeks, a whisper of an imagined memory—one he never wanted to forget. Josef had thin, well-cared-for dreadlocks that landed just below his collar. Paul wanted to reach out and touch them, make sure he was real. Or, better yet, hold them tight like reins while he plowed the man from behind….

Jesus!

His skin flushed and his groin stirred, more than pleased at Destiny Ink’s choice for him this evening.

“I am Josef Debrossé.” He had yet to release Paul’s hand—not that he had any complaints—and his blood warmed from touching a total stranger he’d paid to meet.

He let out a breathless chuckle, not surprised he’d been holding his breath. “Paul Strait,” he replied, caught up in something… giddiness? Excitement? Sexual tension? He wasn’t sure, but he felt like a teenager swooning on a first date. Almost as an afterthought, he added his signature tagline, “And I’m anything but.”

Destiny Ink Series

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