Page 11 of Just a Friend for the Lion
Boy, could you say that again.
She came around the counter like a visionconjured from some late-night fantasy—the kind you wake up from with sweaty sheets and shame.
Sneakers on feet too tiny to belong on an adult woman.
Tight jeans that showed off every inch of her thick thighs, wide hips, and even thicker ass.
APizza Girlstee that clung to her ripe breasts like second skin and rode up just enough to flash a sliver of smooth, soft, pale flesh above her waistband.
And that hair? A riot of curls cascaded down to her shoulders from a high ponytail that bounced with every step she took.
Like even her follicles had confidence.
In her hands? A steaming pizza pie that smelled like heaven, lust, and carb-based salvation.
“Here you go, gentlemen,” she said, setting it down on the table with a smile that made my knees damn near buckle.
Her voice was sweet, a little raspy. Sultry in that she doesn’t even know she’s sexy kind of way.
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
Then she bit her lip.
Bit. Her. Lip.
And gave me a once-over like she was checking a prize bull for stud service.
I swallowed hard.
My throat? Desert dry.
“Thank you, MJ,” Uncle Uzzi said, way too casual for the nuclear reaction happening in my pants. “This looks fantastic.”
“My pleasure,” she purred.
Oh, come on.
Did she have to say that word?
Heat shot down my spine, and I shifted in my seat, suddenly very aware of the snug fit of my jeans and the traitorous interest of a certain body part that had no business rising to the occasion.
Focus, Carter.
But that was a joke. Because how the hell was I supposed to focus when she kept glancing our way from behind the counter, laughing with other customers, flipping her curls like some goddess of mozzarella and murder?
Seriously, she was trying to kill me with all that carrying on.
Every time she moved, it was like my brain short-circuited.
Every bounce of her hip, every flash of her dimple—it chipped away at my resolve.
I tried to talk.
Failed.
Tried to compliment the pizza.
Made a noise that could only be described as a dying moose.
