Mister Landlord Read online

  Mister Landlord

  Mister Yum Series, Book One

  KL Fast

  M.K. Moore

  Flirty Filth Publishing

  Mister Landlord By KL Fast & M.K. Moore

  © KL Fast & M.K. Moore 2020 Flirty Filth Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  Cover created by KL Fast

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books By KL Fast

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by MK Moore

  Dedicated to the men who them a BBW.

  XOXO,

  KL & M.K.

  Blurb

  Former baseball player Beau Melançon is turning in his cleats for a wrench.

  He did not expect his tenant to be the one who captures his heart.

  Eleanor Gremillon has a million things wrong with the old house she rents.

  She did not expect her landlord to roll up his sleeves and get dirty.

  Strap on that tool belt, Mister Landlord is here to fix all that ails you.

  Chapter One

  Beau Melançon

  The last nine months of my life have been complete and utter hell. While I was in Las Vegas at the beginning of the year, winning the Divisional Playoffs, I went out with the team and had a few drinks. And by a few, a mean a fuck ton. Goofing around with the guys on the strip, I fell and tore the tendons in my knee yet again. One week later, we went on to lose the championship against Seattle, but it was a fun ride. After that game, I knew my time was up in baseball. After numerous knee surgeries that didn’t help, I knew it was time to hang up my bat and head home. Twelve years is a long time in baseball, and I am happy with everything I accomplished while I was doing it, but I knew it wasn’t going to last forever.

  New Orleans is home. My parents still live there hell almost all of my family lives there. My sister has been acting as my property manager, but now that I am home, I am taking over the duties. Other than a few Christmases, I haven't been home in eleven years. I went to college in Florida, played for them and was drafted shortly after graduation. It's a huge change for me since I pretty much breathed baseball.

  Now, I am standing in front of the house I own, but I don’t live in it yet. The current tenant’s lease runs out in a year and then I plan on moving in. My current living situation consists of a small apartment in the French Quarter. Though I have money for another house, I have always envisioned starting my own family in this house. Yeah, it needs some work but the 4,200 square foot, eight-bedroom, three full baths, one half bath house with a pool and a hell of a lot of land is perfect for the huge family I plan of having once I find the one.

  I’m at the house on a Thursday evening due to a plumbing issue in the master bath that my sister, Émmeline, sent my way. I haven’t dealt with this kind of thing since high school. My father owns a very lucrative plumbing company that I helped him with on weekends. He told me that a woman appreciates a man that can fix things himself and I took that to heart. Before I get out of the truck, my phone rings.

  “Baby Bash, what’s up man?” I say instead of hello. Sebastian Samuels is a first baseman on my old team, The Mendocino Menaces and my best friend. He was also the youngest player by six weeks, hence the nickname Baby Bash.

  “A lot, actually. I’ll be down in New Orleans next week. We should get together,” he says.

  “Sounds good, man. Let me know when,” I say, ending the call. I know his family is from Plaquemines Parish so it would make sense for him to be around these parts.

  When I knock on the door, toolbox in hand, and it opens, I am momentarily floored by the woman standing there in a short pink silk robe. Her wild brown hair and the fact that she is wearing a short silk robe makes me think she just woke up. I take a quick glance at my watch and realize that it’s barely six-thirty in the evening.

  “Sorry. Ms. Gremillon, uh.” I say but I can't stop staring at her legs, her thick shapely legs that I instantly picture wrapped around my head. Fucking hell where did that thought come from?

  “Oh, okay. Who are you?” she asks, after a second when I don’t answer she clears her throat it takes everything in me to not track my eyes up her body. Sweet baby Jesus, she has curves in all the right places. When I finally bring my eyes to her face, she blushes prettily. She has the most unique blue eyes I have ever seen. Suddenly remembering her question, I clear my throat.

  “I am your landlord, Beau Melançon,” I say extending my hand to her.

  “Call me Eleanor, please. My grand-mère is Ms. Gremillon,” she says laughing at her own joke. Her New Orleans accent is thick. While her head is thrown back, I drop my eyes down her thick body again. My mouth is watering for her. She is gorgeous, beyond gorgeous. I have never seen anyone like her. I have an overwhelming desire to claim her. Make her mine in every possible way. I am not sure how much time has passed, but her lilting laughter has stopped and she’s just staring at me. “So, how can I help you, before the sun is properly set,” she asks crossing her arms which pulls the short robe up her thighs further. I swallow thickly.

  “I, uh, am here to fix the leaky shower faucet,” I answer.

  “Oh, yeah. Em said you would be coming by, though she didn’t say how attractive you were.” Her voice is sultry and goes straight to my balls. She blushes scarlet and slaps a hand against her mouth. “I cannot believe I just said that out loud.”

  “She wouldn’t. I am her brother,” I say chuckling.

  "Well, that makes sense. She did manage to drop into the conversation that you used to play baseball though. Come on in," she says stepping back, gesturing for me to come in. I purposely brush against her. The swell of her breast touches my arm. Her little gasp about has me throwing her to the floor and sinking my eleven-inch monster cock into her.

  “I’m in between things right now,” I tell her.

  "Well, I can understand that. The problem area is in the back bedroom," she says after delicately clearing her throat.

  "Lead the way." She moves down the hall in front of me and I can't help watching the way her ass sways. It's huge and juicy. I just want to bite it. Touch it. Watch it bounce as I fuck into her from behind. Fuck. I'm in so much trouble.

  "Please excuse the mess," she sa
ys once we are in the bathroom. There are panties everywhere. I didn't realize there were so many styles of panties. But there are maybe fifty pairs on the floor in a messy pile. "I had to try these out for work, and I hadn't had a chance to pick them up. Though, in my defense, I didn't expect you until tomorrow.

  "No worries. I didn’t want you to be without a shower," I say, setting the toolbox down by the bathtub.

  "That’s so nice of you. You do know there are about five other bathrooms, right?” she asks, and I nod, realizing how stupid I sounded. I should have just been honest and said I was bored. “I'll leave you to it. I need a drink. Would you like a soda or anything?"

  "Yes. Thank you. Whatever you have is fine."

  "I’ve got Dr. Pepper. Will that do it for you?"

  "That'll be fine. Thanks again." When she leaves again, I take a deep breath, clearing my head.

  Just as I pull the faucet out of its setting, she comes back in with cans.

  "Here you go, Mr. Melançon," she says moving to hand me one of the cans.

  "Beau, please."

  "Alright, Beau." I grasp the soda, my hand briefly enclosing over her much smaller one. Since I haven't stopped staring at her face, her big blue eyes captivating me her grin lights up the room.

  "I'm almost done. Then I'll be out of your hair."

  "Oh, really?" She sounds disappointed by the news.

  "Yes. Unless something else needs my attention?" I ask. Her eyes sparkle. I'd love to know what she's thinking right now.

  "I'm sure something around this dusty old mansion needs attending too," she says. Damn, her smile is electric. "I'll let you get back to work." She leaves the room again and I swear I miss her. She's a weird combo of innocent and sexy, adorable and vixen. I need to know more about her.

  It's perfectly acceptable for a landlord to date his tenant, right?

  Chapter Two

  Eleanor Gremillon

  I really didn’t think today could get any worse. I have spent the last two hours trying on lingerie that costs a pretty penny and none of it fits me. I pick up the offending garment and hold it out. There is no fucking way this is a 2x. No fucking way. I huff. How the hell am I supposed to sell these in my store if they aren't true to their size?

  Being the owner of the Palais de Plaisance, the only plus size lingerie boutique in the French Quarter, I pride myself in making sure that all sizes are guaranteed. This is what I get for buying from a new distributor. I chuck the underwear on the floor and go to grab another pair trying to wiggle my thick ass into the pair that says 2x but has to be an XL.

  “God damn, mother fucking fuck,” I screech out. This is what I get for thinking today couldn't get any worse. First, my car decided to laugh at me when I tried to turn it on this morning. When I say laugh, I really mean it chug, chug, coughed then just died. It really did sound like it fucking laughed at me though. After two more tries and fifteen minutes later she finally started.

  Second, by the time I got to the boutique I was late for the deliveries. So late that one of the delivery guys literally just left all the boxes on the side of the building. I had to pay the other guy more money just so he would help me bring them in. I learned that chivalry is dead.

  Third, after a super fucking long day at work, I get an Uber home. I was very much looking forward to a nice hot bath and a huge glass of wine, but no. When I went to get the tub going the thing just like broke off in my hand. When I first moved in, I wondered why the rent was so low for such a big house. Em said that it was because it needed updates and remodels, and boy does it. I had to call Em and tell her what was going on. She told me that it couldn't get fixed until tomorrow and while there is a hell of a lot more bathrooms in the huge house, the master bath is the only one that has a tub big enough to cover my boobs and knees at the same time. Finally, the stupid mislabeled underwear just topped off my fucking day.

  The knock on the door was just the icing on the day. Great, I did not feel like peopling. I thought that maybe if I ignored it, whoever was there would just go away. After a few seconds, there was another knock. Fuck, I grabbed my robe and marched my not so happy ass down the hall and opened the door only to come face to face with the sexiest man I had ever fucking seen.

  It took everything in me not to pant just looking at him. He had to be at least 6'4 with dark brown hair and even darker eyes. I had let my gaze shift down his body. His shoulders and chest looked like they were trying to escape his tight black shirt. I don’t know much about baseball, but it looks like it treated him well. He has a full sleeve on one side that looks like tribal ink and another hint of ink poking out from the other side. He smiled and I swear to God my ovaries exploded. I have never in my life been this attracted to a man. Right now, all I want to do is run my fingers through his beard and see if it's as soft as it looks then I want to run my hands down his hard body. Yum.

  What does one do when meeting the sexiest man alive? She kicks her sass into full gear and adds a little flirtation with it. I may or may not have added a little sway to my hips as I walk him to the master bedroom. I was doing just fine until I remember all the panties on the floor. Shit. I blush and bite my lip. Keep it cool Elle, it's all good. I tell myself after I leave him in the bathroom. I practically run to the kitchen, that is until my boob pops out. I gasp looking down.

  Oh, my fucking God! Did I just meet the hottest man alive in nothing but my fucking robe? I've never been naked with a man. It's not like I'm a prude or anything. I just haven't had the urge to have a man pop my cherry, but I am seriously reconsidering that with the sexy man in my bathroom. After I hand him his soda, I grab a pair of yoga pants and one of my old baggy shirts then head to the hall bathroom to get dressed. I pull my hair into a messy bun and look at myself in the mirror. This is as good as it's going to get.

  I might be plus size, but I fucking love my body. It took me years to be okay with it. Years to be comfortable in my own skin. That is one of the reasons I own the boutique. I want every woman, no matter their size, to feel beautiful. I walk back into the bedroom and go about picking up the underwear I have thrown everywhere after they are all picked up, I put them in the box. I walk over to the bathroom and knock on the door jam.

  “Hey, Beau. Would you like to stay for dinner?” His head jerks up from where he is working, and he smiles with perfect white teeth that kicks my hormones into overdrive.

  “I’d love to.” I smile.

  “I’ll let you know when it is done.” I go into my well-stocked kitchen and set about making some Cajun chicken pasta. It's one of my favorites because it is easy and I fucking love spicy food. I grab the chicken out of the fridge, some red onions, and some mushrooms. After I get the noodles going, I go about cooking the chicken and mixing the veggies.

  “Can I help with anything, chérie?” I gasp and turn around to see Beau casually leaning against the counter. I blush at his heated stare.

  “Nope. I'm almost done. I just need to plate it up. Would you like a beer or some wine?” He shakes his head.

  “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”

  “Sure. I have fruity or Bud Light.”

  “I’ll take the bud Light,” he says with a chuckle.

  “I need to get a few parts from the store, so your bathtub won't be done until tomorrow. I hope that's okay.” I smile loving that I will be able to see him again so soon.

  “That sounds perfect.” We sit down to eat, and it is perfect. It's so domestic and he makes me laugh and blush all at the same time. He stays well past dinner and helps me do the dishes. He leaves me with a kiss on the cheek, telling me that he will be back tomorrow to finish up the bathroom.

  Damn, I need to find out what else is wrong with this old house so I can have Mr. Yummy Landlord in my house for more than two days.

  Chapter Three

  Beau

  I had to get out of there before I did something crazy like lift her sexy ass onto the kitchen counter and rip those teasingly tight pants from her body. I could have
sworn I saw the outline of her pussy lips from the tightness of her pants. Back in my truck, I don’t really want to go to my shitty apartment, so I head straight for my sister’s place. She lives in the guest house next to the pool behind our parent’s place. It’s ten at night, but the light is still on in the window. I knock before walking in.

  “Hey, Beau. What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you,” Émmeline says laughing before pulling me into a hug.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” We sit on her adorably ugly teal couch.

  “Oh, no. I was just doodling.” She says tossing her sketchbook on the coffee table. She also turns down the Real Housewives of Baton Rouge episode that she’s watching. My mom loves this show. That’s the only reason why I even know what it is.

  Her “doodles” are amazing. She has always sold herself short. She is an excellent designer, but she refuses to submit her designs anywhere.

  “Em, when are you going to submit these to someone who can make them?” I ask her looking at her latest creation. It appears to be a feather lined robe. The thing about Em is that she makes clothes for any body type.

  “Oh, Beau. Hush with that. You know I just do this for fun. Besides, it’s not a career.”

  “And being dad’s secretary is?” I ask.

  “He needs me, Beau. While you were off living your dreams, I was here with Mom and Dad. Helping them.”