Male Order Read online

  Male Order

  Lillian Grant

  Published 2011

  ISBN 978-1-59578-865-8

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2011, Lillian Grant. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  Email:

  [email protected]

  Editor

  Ansley Blackstock

  Cover Artist

  April Martinez

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Meg’s mother can’t even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated. The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s cowboy style wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.

  With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?

  Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G-spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be…with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

  His new life turns into a nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo?

  Chapter One

  A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

  “For fuck’s sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”

  Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

  Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

  “Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”

  Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.

  Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

  “If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

  Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

  Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.

  “Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

  She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.

  “Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”

  Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

  Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.

  Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”

  Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

  She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

  The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

  The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

  “I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

  Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”

  Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.

  Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

  Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

  With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

  “I thought we did that already?”

  “I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

  “Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

  “I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

  “They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage n
o one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”

  “Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”

  A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

  “Doing what?”

  Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

  Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

  The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.

  He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

  Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”

  She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

  His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.

  “For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”

  “Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”

  Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

  Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”

  Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

  Chapter Two

  Sam wandered into the kitchen then pulled the fridge open. Cold beer in hand, he slammed the door shut and passed back through the lounge. Meg’s little friend was ogling him again. Shame Meg didn’t look at him that way.

  “Ladies.”

  Meg ignored him and Laura smiled. No, not a smile, definitely a leer. Unfortunately, she wasn’t his type, too skinny, too needy, and way too easy. He preferred a woman with handles, one that presented a challenge.

  “I’m going to have a shower then I’m off to work.”

  Laura’s grin widened. “You want some help washing your back?”

  God, the girl never gave up. It had been a while since he had a real woman, but he was waiting for the right girl, or rather the opportunity to convince the right girl to give him a chance. He glanced at Meg lying on the sofa, her long dark hair draped over the arm, her deep blue eyes focused on the ceiling, her soft kissable lips pursed with annoyance. She found Laura hitting on him as offensive as he did, there was still hope. “Maybe another time.”

  Sam opened the door to the hallway, making sure to close it behind him. Time was marching on. He would be late to the gym. A flat closer to work would be a better option. He’d visited dozens and they’d all been adequate, but this one had the edge. His share cost more, the location was further from work, and the lack of space left little room for privacy, all black marks, until Meg showed up. The landlord had been hiding his trump card. Saggy sweats, unruly hair and all, she’d mesmerized him. Her dark blue eyes, ready smile, and easygoing personality made him want to live with her and so much more. All he had managed to do so far was win her friendship. They constantly sniped at each other, she cast aspersions on his manhood, and he hit on her whenever the opportunity arose. But, to date, he hadn’t had the nerve to make his move. At least while he bided his time he got to share the sofa when she watched chick flicks and got a cuddle when she needed a shoulder to cry on.

  Occasionally, he sensed her starting to weaken, but she always shored up her defenses just when he thought he was about to break through. If only he’d found where she’d gone to hide the day she walked in on him. The expression on her face had driven him wild—lust, pure unadulterated lust. Her eyes fixed on his wild stallion as he whacked off, she wet her lips with her soft pink tongue and he imagined how it would feel to have those lips wrapped around his cock. That was one of his favorite fantasies, her warm wet mouth sucking him deep into her throat. The thought made him harden. Turning the shower on cold, he stepped inside. He didn’t have time for this before work. Bike shorts hid nothing from view.

  Meg glared at Laura. Why didn’t she write ‘fuck me silly’ on her forehead and be done with it? She could have any man she wanted. They had fallen out over men before and it wasn’t like Meg wanted him. She wasn’t interested in his little pony, much. No matter the reason, Meg didn’t want her to have Sam. Maybe she should be more like Laura and go for it without worrying about the consequences. Except she would never have the guts to make a move on him, sex was never as good as she imagined, and she had a great imagination when it came to Sam. “If you want him that much, why don’t you go and get in his shower?”

  Laura grinned. “Sorry. I really don’t know how you can live with him. Aren’t you ever tempted to climb into his bed at night?”

  Stupid question, the only thing keeping her out was the knowledge having sex would make living with him impossible. She liked sharing her flat with him. They rubbed along well together, but he was so out of her league. All his come-ons were jokes. A man who worked at a gym didn’t belong with a woman who wore track pants to hide her fat arse. Once he saw the blubber she hid in her pants, he would run a mile. Besides, she didn’t do one night stands anymore.

  “Never. He’s not my type.”

  “You mean you’re not his type, but you could be if you sorted yourself out. Why don’t you tidy up your hair and try working out once in a while?”

  Laura’s comment hit home. She was comfortable hiding behind her daggy, badly fitting tracksuits, and not worrying about how she looked. So, she got worse since Sam moved in. She could admire him from afar and know he would leave her alone, as long as they remained just friends she wouldn’t get hurt again. “I’m happy the way I am, thanks.”

  “You know what I think, hun?”

  Meg didn’t bother to answer, what would be the point? Even if she said no, Laura would tell her anyway. “I think Sam might be on to something, maybe you are sexually repressed.”

  “Sam has no idea about my sex life.”

  “Okay then, when did you last sleep with someone?”

  Hell, what a question. She cast her mind back. Geez, no wonder she couldn’t remember. It was at her twenty second birthday party. She wanted to forget she had sex that night. Dennis Mead had gotten her too drunk to know what she was doing, she’d let him drag her out of the back of the club and bang her against the wall. In the process, he ripped her tights and stained her dress. The whole thing lasted all of two minutes. No sooner did he stick his pathetically inadequate pecker inside her than he’d come. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to wear a condom. It had been months before she was convinced she wasn’t knocked up or carrying some horrible disease. The memory made her stomach roll with disgust. Mind you, now Laura had asked, she realized the w
hole debacle happened four years ago.

  Meg shrugged. “It’s been a while. Anyway, we’re not here to discuss my sex life. We need business ideas.”

  Laura leaned forward, her eyes wide, her cheeks tinged pink with excitement. “I’ve got one. What does every woman want?”

  “A Coach purse?”

  “No, try again.”

  “Um, a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes?”

  Laura sighed loudly. “No.”

  Meg thought hard. What would she want other than shoes and a purse? “Oh, oh, I’ve got it, a date with a millionaire movie star.”

  Arms folded and a full pout on her face, Laura glared at her. “You’re not really trying.”

  “Okay, the only thing I can think of is a lifetime’s free supply of Ben & Jerry’s.”

  “Take this seriously.”

  What did she mean? No one took ice cream more seriously than she did. Laura only had to go check the freezer if she didn’t believe her. “I am being serious. I love Ben & Jerry’s. I give up. Why don’t you just tell me?”

  Smug smile on her face, Laura leaned back and put her feet on the footstool. “To be sexually liberated.”

  Meg had no idea where this discussion was going, but so far she couldn’t see any business opportunities.

  “How is that a business opportunity?”

  “Let’s grab a glass of wine and I’ll explain my idea.”

  Chapter Three

  Meg collected a bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge while Laura found two glasses in an overhead cupboard. They headed back to the lounge. Laura took possession of the armchair and Meg flopped down on the overstuffed velour couch. After filling the glasses, she handed one to Laura before placing the bottle on the coffee table.

  “So, tell me your plan. If you don’t have something we can use, we need to get back to finding a slogan for Wonder Bites.”

  “Oh, I’ve got an idea, girlfriend. You’re going to love this.” Laura leaned back and stretched out on the recliner like she had all night.

  Meg sighed loudly. Ever the marketing guru, Laura’s life was one long sales pitch. “For Christ’s sake, just tell me.”