Tainted by a Hustler’s Love by S.L. Partee

Author:S.L. Partee
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Nikki Brown Presents
Published: 2022-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

Marlowe peeled both eyes open as the sun sifted through her curtains, warming her face. Squinting, she rolled over in bed and noticed that it was empty. Darting upward in alarm, her frantic eyes canvassed the room.

“Dyver!” she shrieked, panic lacing her tone.

The dream she’d had rocked her awake as the top of her silk gown stuck to her sweaty chest. Clutching her collarbone, she gasped for air while her eyes searched around.

“I’m here.” His soothing voice replied as he emerged from the bathroom.

Dyver eased himself down onto the bed, wearing nothing but his pants and socks, his chiseled chest and abs on full display, and she threw her arms around him. Holding him tightly against her, she buried her face in his neck as her trembling body brushed into his.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he queried, nudging her gently away.

“Nothing. I had a dream. I thought you were gone.”

“I was just making something to eat. You want something? I got a couple of errands to run, but I’ll be back to spend the rest of the day with you.”

“I have to pick up Dove later and I got a few hours to put in at work. I am starving though.”

“I got you. I’ll be right back.” He gently pressed his lips into hers, before he was on his feet and she was watching after him.

Tossing the covers aside, she went to brush her teeth and wash her face before returning to the bedroom. Marlowe couldn’t shake the uneasiness that bounced around her belly. While brushing her teeth, she got a text from Dove letting her know what time she would be ready. Marlowe ran a shower and cleansed herself before emerging back into her bedroom with just her bathrobe tied around her. Dyver came waltzing in with French toast, eggs, and sausage with a couple of pieces of chopped up fruit. Lowe glanced at the clock on her bedside table and realized it was after noon.

“Okay, all that food was not in my fridge.”

“I know. I went to the grocery store.” Dyver lowered the tray of food onto the bed. “You need to eat. What’s going on with you? Usually, you’re stuffing your face every hour on the hour.”

“I don’t know. Me and food just aren’t getting along right now. Everything tastes bad to my taste buds. Maybe I should go to the doctor.” She reached for a slice of peach and took a nibble. “I hardly ever get sick. The last time I felt like this, I was pregnant with Dove,” she blurted out.

She and Dyver both froze up, and Lowe’s gaze drifted to the ground. She hadn’t expected that to just come out, but now that it had, it set her wheels in motion. She nervously chewed her fruit, sensing Dyver’s acute eyes all over her.

“Lowe—”

“I’m not pregnant. I can’t be,” she objected.

“We haven’t always been careful though. I can name a time or two.” His mind wandered, as did hers.

They were carefree when they were together, and Dyver didn’t give a lot of thought to protection against her.

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