MaleOrder, page 1
Angela West is a romance author whose muse has flown the coop since her ex-husband left her for a younger woman. She forgot about sex and lust, until a new man started delivering her mail.
Bastien, a mocha-skinned god with a Cajun accent, is the new mail carrier, and his smoldering looks promise more than politeness--much, much more.
Deciding to throw caution to the wind and not live vicariously through her characters, Angela seduces Bastien, but instead of a one-night fling she finds something more in his arms. Yet, Angela has been burned before and doesn’t know if she can let her heart be hurt again.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Male Order Copyright © 2011 Amy Ruttan
Edited by Shannon Combs
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication March 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Crocs Ortho: Crocs, Inc.
Harley-Davidson: H-D Michigan, Inc.
iPod: Apple, Inc.
Volkswagen Jetta: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation
When the clock chimed ten in the morning my heart beat a little bit faster. I ran to the front window and peeked through the drapes, from the open window I could hear my neighbor’s mailbox squeaking. I could also hear the sound of his iPod blasting out a steady beat of hip-hop music, which kept him moving as he walked his route. Usually I wasn’t this excited about the prospect of getting mail—that was until about four months ago, when the mail started coming later.
I was very pleased to find out why when I met the new mailman Bastien.
Letting the curtain I was clutching drop back into place I ran to the entranceway and stood in front of the mirror above the cherry wood table where I usually dumped my keys. I straightened my tight, white halter top and ran a hand over my already-smooth hair.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this.
It was something I had been fantasizing about for months, ever since Bastien had started delivering the mail in my neighborhood. I had been living a somewhat cloistered life since my divorce. I settled into a routine, and the days began to blur into one another. It was the day I went out at eight to get my mail and it wasn’t there. It freaked me out. It was part of my routine, it broke up my day.
So I waited in my sweats, clutching a cup of coffee watching for Hank the mailman. Instead I learned that morning Hank had retired and was replaced by a thirty-something, muscle-honed, ebony Adonis.
The Adonis handed me my mail, tipped his hat and said “Ma’am” in a honeyed southern drawl that made my toes curl in my Crocs. His chocolate eyes seemed to take me, and I couldn’t help but picture all the naughty things we could do together. Yet, in my shocked state of mind, all I could do was push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, take the mail and then run inside to hide my crazy, bag lady-type appearance from him.
Bastien delivered the mail around ten in the morning. He always had a bright smile and a suggestive look in his eyes. I began to fantasize about him when I pleasured myself at night—it was his face, his body I pictured thrusting into me.
The mailman of all people!
Bastien was not the typical hero I wrote about. I was a romance writer, I wrote to people’s fantasies. I wrote about cowboys, swashbucklers, leather-clad bad boys. Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought about writing an erotic romance about a mailman—a sweet, smiling and very courteous postal worker.
Still, Bastien wasn’t what you would call the typical mailman. At least not the type I was used to seeing. Bastien was broad-shouldered and had rippling muscles and a smile like Denzel Washington. His smile brightened my day, made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush. I hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. My divorce has certainly sucked the life out of me—in fact I had been dwelling in a writer’s block for some time. When Bastien showed up and gave me a glimpse of his sweet southern charm, my muse became fired, among other things.
I found reasons to be waiting by the door for my mail. Suddenly my neglected garden was getting much-needed attention—digging in the dirt, weeding was the perfect excuse. Also pretending to just be going out as he walked up was another of my favorites.
We always had a nice chat before he carried on his way. I was the last house on his delivery route. Of course I never got past the initial pleasantries. What I wanted to do was throw myself in his arms and beg him to take me. I knew I was a few years older than he and really, what would a young stud like him want with me?
I decided to take a leaf out of one of my own books. I was going seduce Bastien and pray it didn’t blow up in my face and he didn’t laugh at me. I thought he wanted me though, I saw the way his eyes raked over my body the other day. There was lust there, and I didn’t want a relationship. I just wanted no-strings-attached sex.
I wanted to be fucked.
And dammit I was going to take the chance for once. I was tired of living vicariously through my characters.
Steady girl. I smoothed my hair once again as the sound of his iPod blasting muffled music floated through the open window. I could hear his footsteps coming up my gravel walkway, and I knew today he would have to ring the doorbell. Today he was delivering a package from a certain adult shop, one I would have to pay C.O.D. for. And the money for this package was in the bottom drawer of the dresser in my bedroom.
The doorbell rang and I sucked in a deep breath. Go for it, don’t chicken out now. I flung open the door the butterflies in my stomach seemed to be on some sort of roller-coaster ride as I met Bastien’s lazy smile. My fingernails were digging into the wood of the doorframe as I tried to quell the quaking in my body. This was a bold move for hermit like me.
“Good morning, Miss West.” His southern accent poured over me like warm liquid honey. “I have a large package her for you, a C.O.D.” I watched as he flipped open his almost-empty mail bag and pulled out the innocuous brown-paper package.
“How much?” I stared at the package, feigning interest in its contents, even though I knew exactly what was lying under the wrapping paper.
“Twelve fifty exactly,” he smiled up at me again, those chocolate eyes raking my body. My nipples hardened under his appreciative gave, my blood firing and my body humming with anticipation. He
I tried not to choke on his remark. I smiled brightly up at him and took the package from him. My fingers brushing his hand, his skin hot and soft. I cleared my throat and tucked the box under my arm.
“You could say that. Actually, you better come inside—my money is up in my dresser.”
Bastien cocked an eyebrow and I panicked for a second. Relief swept through me as he nodded. “Sure, I could do with some AC before I start the long hike back to my truck.” I stepped aside as Bastien entered my house and shut the door behind me. He was standing in the entranceway, staring up at the cathedral ceiling.
“I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from your work.”
“Nah, I have the afternoon off. Once I deliver your package I am as free as a bird.”
Yes my body seemed to scream in excitement. I cleared my throat and steadied my resolve once more. “Well, I’ll get that money for you. Just follow me.” I brushed past him, but if he had any qualms about following me he didn’t let on. He dropped his now-empty mail bag by the door and slipped off his sneakers.
Walking up the stairs ahead of him, I was glad I decided against wearing panties under my skirt when I heard him suck in a deep breath. He was getting a good view of my bare ass. I paused on the landing and raised one leg up on the next step.
“Sorry, just an itch.” I put the package down and leaned over to scratch the nonexistent itch on my ankle. Bastien murmured something under his breath as he got an unfettered view of my shaved pussy. “There, that’s better.” I flashed him a winsome smile as I picked up the box and continued my way up the rest of the stairs, wondering if his cock was growing hard under that uniform of his.
I wandered into my bedroom and tossed the parcel on my king-sized bed. When I turned around I saw Bastien was lingering in the doorway, standing there uncertain.
“Come on in.”
Bastien took a step inside and I bent over to retrieve the money from the bottom drawer of my dresser.
“Jesus,” he whispered, his voice hitching in his throat.
“Pardon?” I asked, turning around.
“Nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up my ceiling again. I could see a fine sheen of sweat breaking across his brow in my air-conditioned house.
“Oh.” I batted my eyelashes, my stomach doing flip-flops, my whole body alive and yelling at me to throw myself in his arms. Instead I held out the money to him, my hand shaking slightly. “Here you go.”
Bastien reached out and took the money from me, his fingers brushing my skin, searing me with his heat. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, biting my lip as I pictured his hands kneading my breasts. When I looked at him he was still standing there, staring at me, his brown eyes now dark with raging lust a promising sign he might stay. He had his money for the C.O.D., yet he remained frozen on the spot.
“Thanks,” he murmured as he looked in confusion at the money in his hand. Like he had forgotten why he had come up here. He shifted back and forth on his feet and then nervously rubbed the back his neck again.
“Well, I suppose you have a girlfriend or someone special to get back to this afternoon?”
It was actually something I had overlooked and just occurred to me that a man this fine would probably be attached.
“No, I have no one. I was planning to watch some TV, maybe have a beer.” He looked up at me. His eyes were like two dark pools of obsidian and twinkling. “Was the package something you’ve been waiting on for a long time?”
“Oh this?” I walked over and picked up the parcel peeling off the brown wrapping paper. I was usually private about my sex toys. Not even my ex-husband saw them, not that he would have approved. He wasn’t secure in his own sexuality, it was a man’s job to pleasure a woman by thrusting in and out of her, and that was all there was to it. I opened the box and smiled in appreciation at what was inside. “No, I haven’t been waiting a long time, but it’s very much needed. In fact this is going to be a definite life saver.”
“Yes, this came at the perfect time I think.” I pulled out a thick, long ebony dildo. It was a lifelike dildo down to every last detail. My blood heated with the thought of showcasing it in front of the man I had been lusting after for so long. Looking up at him, I could see it was having the effect on him I wanted.
Bastien wasn’t disgusted, or shocked. In fact I could see the firm bulge in the tight uniform shorts he wore. He was aroused by it.
“It’s an impressive package don’t you think?” I tried not to cringe at my own blatant sexual innuendo.
A charming dimpled smile broke across Bastien’s face. “I’ve seen better.”
“Indeed I have, Miss West.” He took a step forward, closing the gap between us. My hand was still clenched around the dildo, my eyes locked with his. He wrapped his large hand around the one still holding the sexual aid. “You say this is a life saver and what I don’t understand is why does a beautiful woman like you need this?”
“It’s obvious. I haven’t had any sex since my now ex-husband left me for a younger woman.”
Bastien looked visibly shocked. “Is he a fool?”
“I think so. Frankly I’m glad he’s gone, but I do have urges…needs.” I moved in closer so my breasts brushed against his chest.
He leaned over, his breath hot on my neck. “I have needs too. I’m new to this area and I haven’t had the luxury of woman’s company for a long, long time.” He pulled the dildo from my hand and dropped it back in the box. “If it’s need you want fulfilled I would be more than happy to oblige you, Angela.”
I could feel the moisture pooling between my thighs, my nipples hard, begging to be sucked and touched by him.
“So you think you can give me what I need better than what’s in my package?”
“Oh I know I can.” He chuckled in a confident tone, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Well, we shall see…”
“Is that a challenge? For if it is, I cannot, as a southern gentleman, back down from a challenge.”
I chuckled as he laid on the charm a little too thick, playing the old southern genteel man. “It’s definitely a challenge. I don’t know if you have what it takes to pleasure me as well as I know the dildo can.” A lie, but I liked teasing him.
My teasing seemed to do the trick and a dangerous smile spread across his face. Before I knew what was happening he scooped me up in his strong arms and set me down on the bed. Bastien leaned over me, his eyes dark, feral and full of desire.
“I can show you how a good southern boy is able to please a lady better than any silicone device ever made.”
My heart beat triple time in my chest, my body fully aware I was beneath him and totally at his mercy. I couldn’t remember the last time I had desired a man like this, enough to let my inhibitions go. Only in my fantasies and through the characters I created was I able to experience something similar, but now I knew it wasn’t the same thing. Not really. This was so much more. I was going to live it.
“Are you up for this, Angela?” His teeth brushed against my earlobe, so close to biting me, like he was claiming me for his own.
“Good.” Bastien pressed his body against mine, his hands enclosing my wrists pinning me down on the mattress so I was utterly at his mercy. My body thrummed with the thrill of it all. With the searing heat of his body on mine, my pussy grew wet with need and anticipation. His breath was hot against my neck.
“What are you doing to me?” My voice hitch as all the possibilities flickered through my mind. Secret desires, needs, which I had never shared with anyone.
“You’ll have to wait and see, but first I think I’m going to taste every single, last inch of you.” He let go of my wrists and then whipped my halter top off, fre
His mouth captured one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pure pleasure, like an electric shock, through my body. A moan escaped my lips as his tongue swirled around it.
“You like that, angel?”
I murmured in approval, both from what he was doing and his little pet name for me. Arching my body so I could press closer to him, so I could feel all of him, I wanted Bastien as close to me as physically possible.
“Patience, angel, I won’t continue unless you remain still.”
I froze. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to continue so badly.
“Good girl.” He chuckled. His lips found my breasts again, his tongue swirling around my coral nipples. I could feel his teeth brushing against my sensitive skin, nipping me lightly. His other hand trailed lower down over my skirt to my thigh, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. Instinctively I opened my legs and felt Bastien’s strong hand slide up under my skirt.
He groaned as his fingers touched my slick, wet folds. Eagerly arching my hips against his hand, I wordlessly begged for Bastien to rub my clit and finger me.
“Jesus, angel,” he moaned into my neck, but he obliged by rubbing my pussy. “You’re so damn wet.”
Bastien stood up and undid the buttons of the side of my tennis skirt and pulled it away. His eyes were feral as his gaze drifted over my clean-shaven pussy.
“You know it’s not really fair that I’m totally naked and you’re still in your uniform. You wouldn’t want to get it dirty now would you?” Standing up, I grabbed him by his collar and then slowly unbuttoned his crisp cotton shirt. Usually uniforms did it for a girl. Well, not me. It was all Bastien, and right now I wanted to see all of him. I wanted to run my hands over his dark, hot skin.
I made quick work of his shirt, belt and shorts. No sooner than I had unbuttoned them he was kicking them across the bedroom. I ran my hands over his bare chest, raking my fingers over his pectorals and washboard abs. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach. It was hard and thick. I let my hands trail lower, sliding his boxer briefs down before stepping back to admire his cock.
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