Hot'N'Ready Excerpt
This excerpt is intended for Readers age 18 or older. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this page.
Copyright 2015 - All Rights Reserved
Megan readjusted the thin lacy straps on her shoulders. The bright red color set off her pale creamy skin. She leaned forward, staring out the peep hole. Her whole body shook as the white car pull into the driveway. Just the sight of the Pete’s Pizza lettering across the sedan door set her heart pounding faster.
Her dinner was here. And boy was she hungry.
The delivery boy stepped out of the car. He bent over to retrieve the pizza box from the backseat and Megan’s heart sped up a bit more. The tight bright red polyester pants stretched across his tight bitable ass, detailing his buns to perfection. Damn, how she’d love to dig her fingers right into that ass, to rip those pants off with her teeth and nip those hard round muscles until he moaned beneath her.
Whistling, he strolled up her walkway. He held the pizza box above his head, his strong biceps flexed with the effort. A little flame of heat arose in her stomach at the sight of him in his cheesy delivery uniform with Pete’s Pizza emblazoned across his chest. The tight red and white tee shirt almost molded to his pecs and across his flat stomach. His bright red pants rode low on his lean hips. He’d pushed his sandy blond hair beneath the baseball cap on his head, though a few strands had broken free to fall around his face. Adorable, and downright edible.
He had no idea how much she’d been anticipating this delivery. And it wasn’t the pie she wanted. Her nipples beaded at the thought of what she planned to do to him, all the ways she planned to thank him for her dinner. She almost moaned at the images racing through her head.
Poor guy didn’t have any idea what he was walking into. But he would—soon—and she doubted he’d be disappointed.
Unable to withstand the anticipation, Megan turned the knob and threw open the door before the delivery boy had a chance to ring the bell. Beneath his red baseball hat his eyes widened, scanning up and down her scantily-clad body. "Did… Uh, you order a pizza, Ma'am?”
Megan smiled. “Yes, I did.” The cool night air lapped at her body, but she didn’t feel cold beneath his hot assessing stare. Her stomach fluttered as his eyes ran over her body, taking in the thin lace of her red bra, that didn’t hide her puckered nipples. Which was why she’d picked the bra. Her red thong rode low on her hips, precariously close to falling off. The flimsy robe she’d donned to preserve a little modesty from the neighbors slid down her arms, bunching around her elbows and revealing most of her body to him.
She didn’t want to take any chances her intentions might be misconstrued. And judging from the size of the tent forming bigger than the Ringling Brothers’ below his belt, she’d succeeded.
“That will be $15.50.” He held the pizza box out to her, his hands shaking around the cardboard. The aroma of tomatoes, basil and garlic wafted to her from the offering. Almost making her mouth water as much as the man before her.
She looked around the room, faking a search for her purse, though she made no move to go look for it. That wasn’t the point. “I don’t think I have the money.” She used the soft sexy kitten voice she’d perfected over the years and sucked in her bottom lip for effect, the pout having almost as successful on her as it appeared to affect him.
“Maybe we could make a trade.”
His eyes scanned along her body again, and his lips spread into a wide grin. “What did you have in mind?”
Her dinner was here. And boy was she hungry.
The delivery boy stepped out of the car. He bent over to retrieve the pizza box from the backseat and Megan’s heart sped up a bit more. The tight bright red polyester pants stretched across his tight bitable ass, detailing his buns to perfection. Damn, how she’d love to dig her fingers right into that ass, to rip those pants off with her teeth and nip those hard round muscles until he moaned beneath her.
Whistling, he strolled up her walkway. He held the pizza box above his head, his strong biceps flexed with the effort. A little flame of heat arose in her stomach at the sight of him in his cheesy delivery uniform with Pete’s Pizza emblazoned across his chest. The tight red and white tee shirt almost molded to his pecs and across his flat stomach. His bright red pants rode low on his lean hips. He’d pushed his sandy blond hair beneath the baseball cap on his head, though a few strands had broken free to fall around his face. Adorable, and downright edible.
He had no idea how much she’d been anticipating this delivery. And it wasn’t the pie she wanted. Her nipples beaded at the thought of what she planned to do to him, all the ways she planned to thank him for her dinner. She almost moaned at the images racing through her head.
Poor guy didn’t have any idea what he was walking into. But he would—soon—and she doubted he’d be disappointed.
Unable to withstand the anticipation, Megan turned the knob and threw open the door before the delivery boy had a chance to ring the bell. Beneath his red baseball hat his eyes widened, scanning up and down her scantily-clad body. "Did… Uh, you order a pizza, Ma'am?”
Megan smiled. “Yes, I did.” The cool night air lapped at her body, but she didn’t feel cold beneath his hot assessing stare. Her stomach fluttered as his eyes ran over her body, taking in the thin lace of her red bra, that didn’t hide her puckered nipples. Which was why she’d picked the bra. Her red thong rode low on her hips, precariously close to falling off. The flimsy robe she’d donned to preserve a little modesty from the neighbors slid down her arms, bunching around her elbows and revealing most of her body to him.
She didn’t want to take any chances her intentions might be misconstrued. And judging from the size of the tent forming bigger than the Ringling Brothers’ below his belt, she’d succeeded.
“That will be $15.50.” He held the pizza box out to her, his hands shaking around the cardboard. The aroma of tomatoes, basil and garlic wafted to her from the offering. Almost making her mouth water as much as the man before her.
She looked around the room, faking a search for her purse, though she made no move to go look for it. That wasn’t the point. “I don’t think I have the money.” She used the soft sexy kitten voice she’d perfected over the years and sucked in her bottom lip for effect, the pout having almost as successful on her as it appeared to affect him.
“Maybe we could make a trade.”
His eyes scanned along her body again, and his lips spread into a wide grin. “What did you have in mind?”
