Page 1 of Mister Landlord

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 says 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?

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