Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders Read Online Free PDF

wouldn’t be enough.”
    He took a perfectly formed little nipple into his mouth and pulled, eliciting a deep, throaty moan from her. He released her and rubbed his cheek over the erect tip basking in the sensation.
    “No, three million words wouldn’t even make a dent.” He slowed the rhythm of their connection until beads of sweat popped up on his brow from holding back and she moaned for more.
    He didn’t know how long it had been, but she’d been content to let him feel her for a while before blue lasers pinned him in place. “I need …”
    He placed a sensual kiss on her swollen lips. “I’ve got you.” He knotted their fingers together and rested their hands above her head. Gradually he increased the pace of their love making until they were both ready to come together somewhere in the clouds.
    It had been forty-five minutes. His girl was patient with him and he loved her, irrevocably.

Chapter 3

    After he’d thoroughly loved her and they’d showered, Clara sat at the bar in their little apartment while she watched Jackson in the kitchen as he rummaged through takeout menus in the junk drawer.
    Suddenly he stopped and stared at her. “Hey, I got you something.”
    “You did?”
    “Yeah, I almost forgot. Let me go get it out of the car.” As he walked past her he kissed her lips and handed her the pizzeria menu.”
    He got a lot of enjoyment out of giving her little surprises and she’d learned to graciously accept them, but it didn’t change the fact that they didn’t have much money.
    She had her job at Moretti’s Italian restaurant. It had started off as summer employment only, but when she’d transferred to Louisiana State University they’d asked her to work thirty-two hours per week. A few weeks later Mrs. Moretti became too sick to make the house mozzarella and so their son taught Clara the process of making fresh cheese. She discovered she loved using her hands to work with food. Now she was responsible for making all the mozzarella they used in the restaurant and what was sold in the store. She’d make batches of cheese in the early morning hours before class and she’d return after class to work the cheese counter in the store. She loved it but Mr. Moretti was a tough boss. Jackson had wanted her to quit so many times she’d lost count. It was true, Moretti was not a nice man, but she overlooked his demeanor because the poor man had been in much pain since his wife had died.
    “Close your eyes,” she heard Jackson yell from the front door.
    She pivoted on the bar stool and waited for whatever he had planned.
    “Keep them closed.”
    She was smiling and tapped her foot with excitement. Cold ceramic was placed in her hands. Her fingers traced the fluted edge. She squealed, “I know what it is.”
    “What?”
    “The pie dish.”
    Jackson kissed her nose. “Open your eyes.”
    “Oh my God, it’s pink. My favorite color!”
    “It’s a special edition for breast cancer awareness.”
    “Thanks, Cracker Jack. I love it.”
    “Your delicious chicken pot pie deserves a proper dish.”
    “Oh, I’ll make you one soon.”
    “Can’t wait.”
    “Order a pizza and I’ll cue up “The Last Walk Home” on the DVD player.
    Just as she was about to order pizza for their date night her phone lit up. It was Mr. Moretti calling.
    “Hello.” She heard his slurred words, but couldn’t decipher their meaning. “Mr. Moretti?” His nightly ritual included a few passes at the corner bar. Luckily, he lived in a rental directly above the bar. Her eyes collided with Jackson’s smoldering gaze. She mouthed to Jackson, He’s drunk . He slightly cocked a brow, not even marginally shocked. The line disconnected and she shrugged. “I hope everything’s okay.”
    Her phone rang again. “It’s Moretti’s son.”
    “Hello.”
    “Hey Clara, I’m so sorry to bother you, but it’s somewhat of an emergency. The delivery was delayed. They’d told me the truck would arrive early in the