My Husband Traded Me
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About this ebook
Molly can't believe she's been traded for a used truck. She loves her husband Trent and he loves her, but this? Even if it's only temporary?
Cooking and cleaning for Blake Parker is easier than she thought and harder than she ever imagined. He's a solid middle-class man who hunts during hunting season. Living alone in his old ranch house surrounded by peach trees, he strikes Molly as cold and angry all the time. But she finds a different side to the man that opens up within her a struggle from which she cannot escape.
Married to Trent, she fights within herself a growing desire to be violated by Blake. Dare she think about touching a man who isn't her husband? Dare she want it? Dare she need it?
Laran Mithras
I write sexy stories that skate along the edge of modern relationships. I don't like cliffhangers, endless chapters, or ongoing fighting and misunderstanding until the last page of the book. So, I don't write those in my books. Many authors think they're being edgy and have an alpha-male alien who's never heard of Earth running around saying, Jesus Christ! every two pages. Ridiculous. So, yeah, I don't do that, either. No religious expletives in my books.I write from the standpoint of realism. My heroes and heroines are normal people who make the extraordinary leap to sexual and emotional fulfillment. Most of my stories are HEAs and are designed to provoke a deeper thought about where we stand with our relationships.I don't live with two dogs or cats who rule my life; I have two pet rats. Yeah, really.Comments on stories or other questions can be directed to: laranmithras@charter.net. Connect with me on Facebook: Laran Mithras. Happy reading!
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Reviews for My Husband Traded Me
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- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Very boring ? ? with insipid hero and stupid heroine.
Book preview
My Husband Traded Me - Laran Mithras
MY HUSBAND TRADED ME
By
Laran Mithras
Cover Photo by www.Shutterstock.com
My Husband Traded Me is a work of fiction. Names, locations and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2015 - All Rights Reserved
Denying your desires will make you unhappy. Indulge them.
CHAPTER 1
What? Is this some joke or something?
Did I really just hear that out of your mouth? Molly shook her head.
Her husband, Trent, was looking at her excitedly. This'll be great.
Are you serious? I'm being traded for a truck? This has to be a joke. They were, however, in dire financial straits. Being evicted in less than a week, neither had been able to find work. Trent was overqualified for everything with a Bachelor's of Science in Business Management and also possessing a Microsoft Engineering Certificate they had spent a couple thousand to get hoping it would pave the way to instant riches.
Instead, he had lost his job as a car salesman while waiting for something to break. She had lost her job as a short order cook when the breakfast house had decided to hire in early-release convicts.
The landlord had apologized when he taped the eviction notice to their front door.
Molly rubbed her eyebrows. Wait a minute. Traded? You can't trade me. I'm not like a TV set or something; we're married.
Trent was bubbling with enthusiasm. It's temporary, Molly. Don't worry, I still love you. But Gary called me and said there was still work in North Dakota in the oilfields. We're talking two thousand dollars a week, baby.
She sighed. I thought you were going to see if Deacon Ford had a position—
They don't. And even if they did, the paycheck would be too late. What are we going to do? Sleep on the streets? We don't even have a car.
They had been forced to sell their old Pinto just to have money to eat.
She held out her hands. Why am I being traded?
Blake has a truck with a camper shell on it. I can live in the truck. Renting is way too expensive up there.
He said it as if it were obvious.
I can go with you.
I need the truck, first: you're the trade.
You can't trade a wife.
This is crazy.
Like I said, it's just temporary. He'll put you up in the guest bedroom and you help around the house.
I have to slave for him?
I don't want to be picking up someone else's dirty underwear.
Consider it like any other work. Cook, clean, laundry.
And he's giving you a truck for this?
Baby, it's almost a hundred thousand a year. This is the big break we've been waiting for. We just have to make some sacrifices.
She coughed. And I have to be a slave for it.
He held out his hands, palms up. Look at it this way; you get to sleep in a bed and I get to camp in a truck.
She sighed. I guess that is better than both of us sleeping on the street. Cooking, cleaning, and laundry? He's not expecting anything else, is he?
Trent laughed, looking relieved. That's all, promise. Blake's a good guy.
She had met him before – a nice-looking man who was interested in hunting and the like. Sort of odd in a quiet way. He can't clean on his own?
Last I saw, his place was immaculate. But he said for the opportunity of having a live-in cook for a few months, it was worth the trade.
A few months? Can't I just go stay with mom?
Trent took her in his arms. Not much comforted them anymore with all their money worries, but hugging at least reminded them of their love. You have to do your part. Two thousand a week will solve all our problems. Maybe we can start our own business when I get back.
That sounded better to her. Doing what?
He shrugged. I don't know. I can always find something in one of those magazines selling franchises and the like.
I hope it won't be another get rich quick scheme that requires a twenty thousand dollar investment. Our own business?
We just need some starting cash.
It was true, she knew. It took money to make money, but they had never had much money with which to begin.
She pouted against his neck. Will you activate our cell accounts when you get paid? I already feel like I'm missing you.
It was more than that. Despite their discomfort with finances and their uncertain future, their bond was the only thing that kept her somewhat sane. If he was going to be leaving, how would she cope?
Of course. Consider it done.
Are you sure about this? Can't I come?
The only reason I'm getting the truck is because you're going to take care of his house.
She sighed. This isn't fair.
He stroked her hair. It's our only chance.
Molly looked around the apartment. They had nothing left but a couple boxes. The TV had been sold at a garage sale and the couch along with it. The entertainment center that had made them feel as if they were rich was gone, too. They had needed money for food.
She had a few books and her personal papers. Her clothes amounted to a small pile that would make a street person think twice about accepting them. She had a ragdoll from her youth, well-worn and frayed from