Stud Muffin Wanted
ISBN: 1-4199-0580-5
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Genre(s): Contemporary; Rubenesque

Tristan Dodson needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He would have never thought the word masturbation would have a life-altering effect on him, but here he was gasping for air because a ravioli noodle went down the wrong pipe. Things wouldn’t have been so dramatic if he hadn’t been eavesdropping in the first place, but when the words “anal sex” came floating over the fake plants sitting on top of his booth, he couldn’t help but listen.

And listen he did, because not only did he figure out that the speaker was in dire need of an orgasm, he also figured out who the speaker was. There was no way he could mistake the husky drawl of Karon Bower anywhere. The voluptuous southern beauty had charmed him from the first moment he had met her at a small business association meeting and he’d been trying to ease his way into her path ever since.

The casual friendship they’d maintained over the last few years had only whet his appetite for her, but now it seemed as if fate was going to sugarcoat the how and why—he just had to concentrate on the when.

A concerned waiter hovered over him with a pitcher in his hand. “Would you like some more water?”

Taking in a deep breath, Tristan waved him away. “I’ll be fine.” Just as soon as he swallowed his lungs back down anyway. His eyes burned with unshed tears but pain aside, Tristan had never felt so good. Karon was on a manhunt and Tristan planned to do everything he could to make sure he was lined up in her shot.

The voices on the other side of the booth had lowered, but he’d heard enough. Gesturing to the waiter, Tristan paid his bill, refusing to have his killer meal boxed up. He had a plan. As he stood, he overheard her companion say she was running to the restroom and decided to wait until the woman passed him before approaching Karon.

Gazing at Karon as her companion passed by, Tristan took a moment to drink in the lovely image she emanated. As usual, she wore a fashionable two-piece suit that catered to her plush figure, showing off her luscious curves to his avid eyes. The soft cream color complemented her smooth, pale skin and dark auburn hair, making Karon look like a succulent peach, ripe for the picking. And Tristan was a sucker for peaches.

Tristan had always been attracted to Karon, but the right situation had never presented itself for him to try to takes things further. Now knowing that the classy, lush lady in front of him wanted someone to fill her backside somehow made her more approachable.

Go figure.

“Karon,” Tristan called her name, causing her to jump and accidentally knock her wine glass over. Fumbling like a Three Stooges impersonator, Karon grabbed at everything around her, trying to stop the impeding mess.

“Good Lord, Tristan.” Smiling, she wiped at the puddle on the table, moving her notes discreetly to the side, as if he needed the paper to understand her wants. Her words had been branded in his memory, insuring him an afternoon of unappeased desire. “You startled me.”

She was startled! Hell, she should try coughing up ravioli out her nose. “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention.”

“I didn’t see you come in.” Her smile was as inviting as her warm personality and one of the many things he liked about her.

“I’ve been here for a while.”

The light seemed to dim a bit from her big blue eyes as she glanced around the restaurant as if trying to garner where he had been sitting. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Immensely,” he nodded. “Although it tasted much better going down than it did coming back up.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Tristan watched her for a moment wondering what move to make. He thought about saying, “Are you enjoying that tossed salad, and by the way I’m willing to toss yours,” but decided against it. Something about Karon didn’t scream anal licking on the first date. “So how is everything in your world?”

“Great,” she beamed, obviously lying through her teeth. A woman with a great life wouldn’t be crying in her pasta. “Work is great. Life is great. Everything’s…great.”

“May I sit down?”

“Of course.” Nervously, she moved her plate over, trying to cover her notes, but spilling her sauce on the tabletop in the process. “Goodness, I’m a complete mess today.”

“Let me help.” Leaning over, Tristan grabbed her notes from under her plate, wiping the white sauce off with a napkin. This was not how he had intended the plan to go, but he was quick on his feet and more than willing to let opportunity in when it knocked.

Squeaking, Karon reached her hand out to grab the papers, but instantly froze when Tristan turned them over and began to scan. Unable to believe the extent of the list, Tristan paused in reading it to look back up at Karon in shock.

What he saw surprised him even more than the conversation he had overheard. It didn’t make sense that an attractive woman of Karon’s caliber and style could have made it this long without doing some of the things on the list. They lived in the twenty-first century for Christ’s sake. Who didn’t give head these days?

Sitting down across from her, Tristan sat the sheet down in front of him, mindful to keep his hand on it. “This is quite a list you have, Karon.”

“It’s not mine,” she denied quickly, reaching across the table for it.

Picking the paper up quickly, Tristan turned it around until it faced her. “You mean the list that says ‘Karon’s sexual to-do list’ doesn’t belong to you?”

“It belongs to my friend.”

Tristan tried to bite back his smile, but it truly was a losing battle. “Your friend named Karon?”

“It’s a very common name.” Her lies were getting weaker by the moment and he could tell she knew it. Karon’s face flashed from embarrassed to sheepish. Heat rose, bringing her skin color close to that of her glorious hair. She looked adorable as hell.

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Hand held out, Karon wiggled her fingers towards him. “Can I have it back please?”

“Sure.” Tristan didn’t need the list anymore. The words were practically burnt into his memory. “But do me a favor.”

Letting out a relief sigh, Karon folded the paper and slid it under the table. “What?”

Tristan reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card. Quickly scribbling his home number on the back, he handed Karon the card, much to her confusion. “What’s this?”

“This is my number. Office and cell on front, home on the back. I want you to call me before you head to the bar looking for your—” pausing to remember the exact phrase he’d overheard, Tristan cocked his head to the side, watching Karon’s jaw drop open in surprise “—stud muffin. I’m more than willing to help you fulfill your wish list.”