Chapter 1: The Unexpected Estimate
Jake pulled up to the upscale suburban home, his work truck loaded with samples of hardwood and tile. He’d been laying floors for five years, and estimates were routine—measure, quote, leave. But something about this call felt... off. The woman on the phone, Marissa, had a voice like velvet, low and teasing, lingering in his mind long after the call ended. He shook it off, grabbed his clipboard, and rang the bell.
The door swung open, and Jake’s breath caught. Marissa stood there, a vision in a black trench coat that barely reached mid-thigh, tied loosely at the waist. Beneath it, a glimpse of crimson lace peeked out, hugging curves that could stop traffic. Her stiletto heels clicked on the hardwood as she leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on her lips. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her eyes—sharp, predatory—locked onto his.
“You must be Jake,” she purred, her voice even sexier in person. “I’ve been waiting to see what you can... lay down.”
Jake swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the clipboard. “Uh, yeah, I’m here for the flooring estimate. You mentioned the living room?”
Marissa’s smirk widened as she stepped aside, gesturing him in. “Oh, I’ve got a few rooms that need attention. But let’s start with something... intimate.” She let the coat slip just an inch, revealing more of the lingerie underneath, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. Jake’s pulse raced, but he forced himself to focus.
“Ma’am, I’m just here to measure—”
“Call me Marissa,” she interrupted, her tone commanding yet playful. “And don’t play coy, Jake. I saw the way your eyes lingered. You’re not just measuring square footage, are you?”
He chuckled despite himself, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m flattered, but I’ve got a job to do. Let’s keep this professional.”
Marissa stepped closer, the scent of her perfume—something spicy and intoxicating—filling the air between them. “Professional is boring,” she said, her voice a low growl. “I’m more interested in how hard you can work... under pressure.” Her fingers brushed the edge of her coat, teasing it open further, revealing the swell of her breasts barely contained by the lace.
Jake’s jaw tightened, heat flooding through him. “You’re making it real damn hard to focus on flooring, Marissa.”
“Good,” she shot back, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t want your focus on the floor. I want it on me.” She untied the coat completely, letting it fall open as she stepped closer, her body inches from his. The lingerie left little to the imagination, and Jake felt his resolve crumbling.
“Jesus,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You don’t play fair.”
“Fair’s for losers,” she quipped, her hand trailing down his chest, fingers brushing over his shirt. “I play to win. So, tell me, Jake—are you gonna measure up?”
His clipboard hit the floor with a clatter as he grabbed her hips, pulling her against him. Her lips crashed into his, hungry and demanding, her tongue teasing his with a ferocity that matched her words. She pressed herself into him, and he could feel every curve, every inch of her heat through the thin fabric. His hands roamed, sliding down to grip her ass, firm and perfect under his touch.
“Fuck, Marissa,” he growled against her mouth, already hard as hell. “You’re gonna regret starting this.”
“Try me,” she challenged, her nails digging into his shoulders as she nipped at his lip. “I’ve been wet for hours waiting for you to show up. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
Their bodies pressed tighter, the air thick with tension and raw need. She tugged at his belt, her movements bold and unapologetic, while his fingers slipped under the lace, finding her dripping already. They were seconds from tearing into each other, sweating, panting, the promise of something explosive hanging between them...
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