A Pine Time for Murder by Stella Marie Alden EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Stella Marie Alden
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
“It’s only been a week since you were shot. We don’t need the money,
tough guy. Chill.” Standing at the kitchen sink, I turn toward his strong,
My shirtless husband walks behind me, slips his arms around my waist,
and presses his arousal to my butt cheeks. “I’m not going to meet with Slate
until Monday, which leaves plenty of time for recovery-sex. How about you
and me go back to bed?”
“Mikey’s awake and we just made love… twice.” I kiss his soft lips and
my panties dampen. At this rate, I’ll need to do laundry ASAP.
“Third time’s the charm.” He chuckles.
Nibbling his ear, my fingers squeeze his firm, sexy, ass. “Go feed your
son and see if you can coax his coat off. I mistakenly mentioned looking for
a Christmas tree and now, he’s raring to go.”
From the top floor of our old apartment building, I glance out the back
door, check the time, and sigh. It’s too early to call the plumber.
“Maybe, we can move back to our house today?” My stomach churning,
I grab a saltine, open the refrigerator door, and hide my head inside.
The nausea comes and goes but it’s lasted more than a couple days.
Could I be pregnant? I remember the few missed pills and my heart thumps.
Suds and I have talked about a second child but at no time did we agree we
Shit. What if he’s not? I don’t want him killing himself to provide for
another. He already does too much.
While I swallow back bile, my husband lifts our tyke into his booster
When scrambled eggs are placed in front of him, our preschooler pushes
his breakfast away and scowls. “I’m a big boy, Daddy.”
“Sorry champ. I plumb forgot.” He dumps the food in a glass bowl, sets
it down, and keeps his one usable hand nearby in case the dish should slide
“You spoil him rotten.” Smiling, I crack an egg in the blender, add
honey, vanilla yogurt, and milk.
As I mix my smoothie, my husband spoons his portion from the frying
pan onto his plate and sits. Long lashes lift, his smoldering eyes stare at
mine, and my breath hitches.
Holy shit, how does this man still cause me to cream with just a look?
Reaching across the table, I smooth a lock of dark hair, and as it drops
carelessly over a brow, his lips quirk up in an easy smile.
My clit twitches and I mentally count the hours until we can find alone
time. “I love you, tough guy.”
“Love you, too, sugar. I’ll love you even more if you convince the
plumber to fix our bathroom so we can move back home. Are you sure we
can’t tolerate the odor?”
“You can judge for yourself, later. To me, it ranks about a twelve on the
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