Busted Play: The Series (Players, Books 1-6)

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Busted Play: The Series (Players, Books 1-6) Page 48

by Stella Marie Alden


  “I had to hire a part-time chef.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Even after all my lessons?”

  “Yup.” Proudly I open the door to my home office with an adjoining door to Grayson’s. “This is where I spend almost all my time.”

  “No wonder you both seem so happy.”

  “Check this out.” I open the door to the downstairs bathroom with a hot tub for two and a shower with so many sprayers, I lost count.

  Glancing at myself in the bathroom mirror, I run a finger through my shorter, blunt cut and smile at the new me.

  Mel catches my gaze and says, “You look terrific, hun.”

  “Thanks, I’m back to my pre-baby weight. Once I focused on just being happy, I started to eat right, exercised and spent time in the sun. Then, it all came together.” I don’t share how I joined a local church where we sing and say a few prayers on Sunday.

  Maybe I’ll join more of the community someday, maybe not. The important thing is, I feel connected to some higher power.

  Much later, I grab some food, more beer, and chat with all the girls in the group. The men have started a game of hoops on the side of the house and it sounds serious.

  With so much peace and joy, my second wedding day fades into evening. Finally, I sit on Gray’s lap, a bit buzzed. Sweet jazz plays from the speakers as the caterers start to clean up.

  He hugs me close and kisses me sweetly on the lips. “Happy?”

  “Best day ever, except for one thing.”

  He laughs, knowing me all too well. “Except for the fact there were so many people.”

  “I wish we could throw a party for maybe, an hour or so, say hi to everyone, then ask them to go.” I chuckle at how silly I sound. “Maybe the beer has gone to my head.”

  “Nah. I get it. You never really liked crowds.”

  “No, I do, I do. I love every one of these guys, just one or two at a time.”

  Mel approaches with her driver Jack, and Gabi. “I’m afraid we need to go. Are we still on for Wednesday?”

  “Absolutely.” I give her a hug. “See you then.”

  After everyone leaves and the baby falls asleep, me and Gray lay together in the hammock and look up at the stars.

  Cicadas sing like drunken afuche players, crickets buzz, and fireflies give us a lazy light show. I hold Grayson’s hand while he rocks us, a leg hanging over the edge, toe in the grass.

  With my head on his shoulder, I turn, and look into his intense, gray eyes.

  “Happy?” His finger swirls a lock of hair around my ear and I honestly don’t know how to answer.

  Happy seems so trite, so small, so undeserving a word. What I feel is so much more intense. It makes my eyes water and my heart pound. I’m light years beyond mere happy.

  As I kiss my husband, my lover, the father of my child, and my best friend, I decide there are no words to describe how I feel.

  Instead, I take his hand, lead him to our bedroom, and drop my dress on the floor along the way.

  The End

  From the Author:

  Hi Lovely Readers!

  I hope you liked ‘The Player’s Series’ and if you did, will leave a review on Amazon. In case you hadn’t guessed, like Mel, I had a tough start in life. One in three women in the United States will reach adulthood with some history of sexual abuse. Most won’t get the support they need.

  What can you do? Just listen. I can’t tell you how wonderful that can be.

  Oh my, enough of serious stuff! On to more fun stories.

  Below, is a list of my other books. Some people say I am crazy for writing in multiple genres but I can’t help it. I started out writing Medieval, then I wrote a trilogy about three magician brothers. After that, I started writing contemporary and found my happy place.

  I really love you all and cannot even begin to tell you how much your support means to me!

  XOXOX,

  Stella

  More by me!

  Modern Romances

  Busted Play (The Series) contains:

  Busted Play

  Counter Play

  Final Play

  The CEO’s Valentine

  The CEO’s Lucky Charm

  The CEO’s Redemption

  Kit

  Slate

  In My Custody

  Slate

  She woke a part of me I thought long dead...

  "She pretty?"

  "F###, yeah."

  "Single?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "She into you?"

  "Think so."

  "So, what's the problem?"

  "I kissed her."

  I specifically told the agency I wanted a male dog walker. She's way too leggy. That's the problem. And young. And naïve. I got no business letting her stay in my guesthouse, especially the way my blood runs south whenever she's near. In another lifetime, I might've pursued her but I suck at relationships.

  Unfortunately, my dog found a clue to a murder and she's involved. If I don't protect her, who will?

  Lilac

  There's something about Mr. Sexy and that over-the-top kiss. I've never felt anything so consuming, so mind-blowing. Then, he apologized. Now, he's pissed. What the h3ll? How had my heart become so invested in so short a time?

  In My Custody

  She makes me crazy. I don't know if I'm coming or going..

  "I, ah, don't do long term. Okay?"

  "Slow down, the only thing I'm proposing is a nice meal and a glass of wine."

  "Riiight. Followed by bed."

  "I'm willing to put out as long as you respect me in the morning."

  "Maybe I'll just insist on an expensive dinner and leave you hanging."

  "Oh honey, it won't be."

  Andrew Quinn

  A few years back, my gorgeous client captured the world's pity when her billionaire husband died and left her penniless. Refusing charity, she's fired me more times than I can count but I don't give a d@mn. I'm taking care of her.

  Sienna

  My ex was a cheap, conniving SOB with ties to the mob. So, when I mistakenly capture his very-alive voice on a recording, I know I'm in deep sh*t. Mr. Sexy-Suit offers his services for free but if something sounds too good to be true... I sure as h3ll won't go down that road again.

  Dangerous Code

  Medieval Romances

  How to Train Your Knight

  How to Marry Your Wife

  How to Seduce a Queen

  The Angel of Soriano

  Paranormal Romances

  Dark Vortex

  “What? Is the darkness back? Is Olivia here?" She reached blindly over the driftwood side-table and on the floor beside the bed. "Where’re my glasses?”

  “No. It’s not the darkness.” His hands shook when he placed her glasses on her nose. Her big brown eyes focused on him behind the thick lenses. Overwhelmed, he choked out the words he’d longed to say for years. “I want you for my mate.”

  “What?" Her eyes went huge. She shuffled to a sitting position with her back pressed tightly against the headboard.

  Holy Goddess. Her body said yes and her mouth said no. Olivia had to be wrong. Zoe was perfectly trained for the ritual about to unfold.

  He placed his hand on her bare thigh, just below where her shorts ended, and allowed his heat and energy to infuse her. She squirmed, pulling her legs together. So nice. So sweet. He added tiny jolts of electricity as he stroked her bare leg and chuckled at her responsiveness. Her full lips parted and her gaze went to his mouth.

  Not yet, Angel.

  “I’ve been looking for you for a lifetime.” He touched a lock of her dark hair. “You’re my hope. My salvation.”

  “I can’t be.” Her soft breath hit his nostrils with a scent that spoke of sex.

  His brothers had warned him about the hot and the cold of the mating ritual, but how could anyone truly be prepared?

  “You’re not already mated?” He held his breath.

  She shook her head and her lips parted.<
br />
  He exhaled. “You’ll be mine, now. Forever.”

  Download Now

  Mohegan

  Slate

  I bolt upright at the warble of my house alarm, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Even before my feet hit the floor, I grab my gun off the bedstand and slide off the safety. A familiar stab from my shoulder reminds me to take it easy. My stitches aren’t yet healed.

  The nearby cell phone reads two in the morning and I use its light to rush into the bedroom next door. With the noise off, I switch on the wall of monitors.

  Shit. Most of the estate’s cameras are down because the goddamn squirrels chewed through the wires. I never figured on needing my surveillance so soon but it’s pretty clear someone opened my front gate.

  Barefoot, I rush past four empty bedrooms, jog the length of the living room and two kitchen islands. From there, I open the Anderson doors, pad onto the deck, and peer down at the source of my interrupted sleep.

  Thirty feet back, my guest house is lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. It’s either some bold squatter or an incredibly stupid thief. Regardless, I plan to scare the shit out of them. Who the hell has the audacity to break into my fucking estate? It must be some out-of-towner. Most everyone around here knows better.

  Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I run down the deck steps and make my way across the cold, wet lawn. Worms squish under my toes, crickets stop chirping and inside, a woman sings lightly. I walk up to the bedroom window and look in.

  Ah, shit.

  A young woman undresses, sexy as hell. She’s got dark brown shoulder-length hair and pert breasts. She’s thin and her calves are muscular, like a runner. My gaze runs up her legs to the curls of her bush and blood runs south.

  Ah, fuck it all to hell. Now I’m a pervert? I give her time to dress in pajamas which consist of tiny shorts and a tank top while I consider my next moves. Not too many years ago, I had a buddy blown to bits by a conniving bitch, almost as beautiful as her.

  I keep that in mind as I rush to the front door and push it open. In the small kitchen, I figure it’s time to teach this little trespasser a lesson.

  Pulling out my weapon, I shout, “Freeze!”

  She slams the bedroom door, a lock clicks, and it takes me two strides to get past the kitchen table.

  I bang on the white, painted oak. “Get out here, missy. You have some explaining to do.”

  Not only am I pissed some intruder’s in my guesthouse, my shoulder hurts, and my cock’s gone hard. My fucking appendage should know better.

  Looking down, it dawns on me I left my room in my birthday suit. I never expected to find a female, a gorgeous one at that. Shit, there’s nothing to do now but grab a throw-pillow and hold it in front of me.

  Suddenly, being naked is the least of my problems. The door bursts open and she’s got a weapon. I kick, the gun flies, and my pillow drops. Screaming hysterically, she steps close and pounds her fists on my chest. When one of her blows breaks open my stitches, I’ve fucking had enough.

  I grab her wrists, pin them over her head, and press her against the wall. “For crying out loud, stop.”

  Her eyes scrunch shut and her heart thumps against my naked chest. Dammit, I didn’t mean to frighten her that badly.

  “Look at me.” I step back about a foot as tears leak down her cheek and she bites her lower lip.

  “Fuck it all, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know what you’re doing on my property at two in the morning. I won’t call the police, if that’s what’s upsetting you.”

  Her eyes pop open.

  Ah hell, they’re dark chocolate with a few flecks of gold, framed by naturally thick lashes and no gooey shit. The tears sticking to them make me feel like a complete ass so I move both her wrists to one hand and wipe away the waterworks with the other.

  Her mouth moves, lips thick and red. “P-please don’t hurt me.”

  I snort and glance down at my shoulder where blood flows from my open wound. “The only one injured is me. If I let you go, you promise not to fight? We can talk?”

  She shakes her head up and down, silky locks on her shoulders. However, her gaze traverses to the open windows, the door, and finally between us where my cock has taken a huge interest.

  “Sorry.” I let go of her, grab a sheet, and wrap it around my waist. “I sleep naked and you caught me off guard… Sit. Please.”

  “W-what do you want with me?” She eases down onto the edge of her bed, her eyes honing in on the gun by her feet which I pick up and turn around.

  It’s a realistic-looking water pistol. “What the hell?”

  “Mace.”

  I shake my head at the stupidity of such a weapon as she narrows her gaze. “So, you’re the infamous Slate. I’m not impressed.”

  “And you are?”

  She sniffles and swipes her arm under her wet nose. “Lilac Starbird. I was going to be your live-in dog walker. Edna Weissman gave me your access codes. How else could I have gotten through your ten-foot gates?”

  Ah shit. She drops her ‘R’s like someone from Boston making Starbird sound like Stahbahd and I don’t know how, but I’m certain my mother’s gone and done it again. For the last six months, she’s been trying to hook me up with nice ladies from good families. This time, I got to hand it to her, she’s upped her game.

  “Who are you, really, lady?” I need her to confess and get the hell off my property.

  “What’s your problem? Call Edna. She’ll tell you. I’m your dog walker. Well, I was going to be.”

  Damn. It’s true I called Edna but I told her to call me back when she found someone. I wanted to interview him. I certainly didn’t tell her to give away my access codes. I gave her specific instructions. She could use them in case of emergency and the dog needed to be fed.

  Whatever. There’s still that damn Boston accent. I fucking know my mother set me up.

  Lilac, if that’s her name, stands and opens a drawer in the antique dresser. She grabs her unmentionables and tosses them into the suitcase, open on her bed.

  The panties are pretty and lacy, too tiny to do much good. They’re the kind made to entice a man. Of course, my cock takes notice.

  “Do you mind?” She stops for a moment and glares at my bulging appendage with hands on her waist. “I’ll be out of your hair in just a few seconds.”

  “You can’t go. It’s fucking two in the morning.” When I grab her hand, pure electricity sparks between us and we both stare.

  Her lush lips open, big eyes widen, and nostrils flair. Holy shit, I let go fast. This is not the time or the place for that much attraction.

  Despite the body language, her dry tone implies she’s in agreement. “There must be plenty of hotels. I’ll find one.”

  “No. You’re staying right here. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” In another lifetime, I would’ve kissed that look right off her face but now I’m older and wiser. Burnt once, I’m not going there. I no longer play with fire.

  As if she hears my thoughts, she gives my thick cock under the sheet a quick glance and pointedly returns her gaze to my face.

  “Jesus. That’s not my fault. Look at you.” I give her pointy nipples under her tiny silk top a long, heated, once over.

  Face now beet-red, she mumbles, “You’re the one who broke in on me. Edna said you’d be gone.”

  “Yeah, well, not too many people know I’m laid up and I prefer it that way.”

  The sticky liquid dripping from my stitches makes me run into the bathroom and grab a towel. I’m bleeding all over the place.

  “Fuck.” A bit light-headed, I sit and press my hand hard to my shoulder.

  “Let me see that.” All business-like, she steps between my legs and of course, my cock does the happy dance.

  Focus, Slate.

  “What are you, a doctor?”

  “Soon.” She lifts my towel, pulls off my bandage, and grimaces.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Do you
want me to patch you up or bring you to the emergency room?”

  I don’t fancy a night in the hospital. Honestly, I could stitch myself up, if I had to, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. What better way to find out what she’s up to?

  CONTINUE READING

  Dangerous Code

  I dash out of the Port Authority and claim the last hand-hold on the downtown bus. The brakes hiss, we lurch forward, and suddenly my headset mutes. Instead of Blake Shelton, the male voice of my artificial intelligence barges in.

  “Terrorist alert.”

  Don’t freak out, Jones. It’s probably just a bug.

  Shaking, I let go of the metal loop and pull out my iPhone. On the screen, my AI application flashes bright letters on a black background.

  Red Alert

  Bomb in canvas bag

  Vicinity < 25 feet

  Accuracy Assessment is 85%

  With the bus hitting every pothole, it takes a few tries for my thumb to find the dropdown. Then a license of a clean-cut brown man pops up. I think I saw him sitting in the back. To be sure, I use the handholds like monkey bars and jostle to the rear. My fellow commuters give way begrudgingly.

  There he is. And he’s got a green gym bag at his feet.

  Oh my God. I’m on a bus with a friggin’ terrorist.

  Taking a deep breath, I stream video to Jason’s downtown servers. I have to alert New York’s Terrorism Task Force, but must do so without revealing Jason. He’s not ready.

  Jenna: Call JTTF, explain what’s happening. Do not reveal your identity.

  Jason: Done.

  In the bus’s side window, my wide-eyed reflection gawks back, pale Irish skin tinted green. And instead of a successful entrepreneur, I see a woman biting down on her lower lip like a scared teenager. Yeah, I want off this death trap. Who wouldn’t? One small push on the stop bar and I’d be free. But I can’t just leave a bus filled with innocent people. I have to try something.

 

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