Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons #2)

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Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons #2) Page 5

by Nicole Jacquelyn


  “Hi, brother,” Rose greeted as she shuffled sideways into the kitchen, shaking her hands out to the side.

  “What’re you doin’?”

  “Making an entrance,” she announced, twirling around.

  “You’re a nut.”

  “I saw your girlfriend today,” she sang, pushing by me to get a juice box out of the fridge.

  “What’re you talkin’ about?”

  “Molly,” she answered with a sneaky smile. “Her baby’s really cute and she wears glasses. She looks like a little old professor.”

  My entire body locked up.

  “Where’d you see her?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “At the mall. Her and her friend Melanie were—where are you going?”

  “I’ll help you out tomorrow, Dad!” I yelled as I grabbed my flannel off the countertop and walked quickly out of the house.

  I felt like I was going to throw up.

  It wasn’t happening again.

  No fucking way.

  I hopped on my bike and swallowed down the bile in the back of my throat as I made my way to Molly’s trailer park.

  Her car was parked out front, but that didn’t mean shit. She could’ve ridden with Melanie to the mall.

  I was off my bike and pounding on her front door within less than a minute, and when it opened and I saw that she was perfectly fine, I thought for a second that I was going to throw up anyway.

  “Will? Are you okay?”

  Her eyes went wide when I pushed into her house, but I didn’t care. I needed to get my hands on her.

  I grabbed her hip as she shuffled backward, and used my other hand to close the door behind me. “Where’s the baby?”

  “Afternoon nap—”

  That’s all I needed to know.

  I slammed my mouth down on hers in what had to be the worst first kiss in the world ever. My teeth knocked into hers and I tasted blood in my mouth—I’m not sure whose it was. But I didn’t care. I didn’t fucking care if she beat me to shit, I needed to feel her.

  The adrenaline that had beat at me on the ride over needed a fucking outlet. My hands were shaking as I cupped the back of her head, and hers were soothing as she reached up to smooth one across my cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked against my mouth.

  She asked what was wrong—but she hadn’t told me no.

  Green light.

  I pressed her against the wall and reached down to grip the backs of her thighs, lifting her so I could fit between them.

  She moaned and I groaned as the kiss finally found a rhythm. A fucking wet and messy rhythm.

  Jesus. She tasted like apple. I ground my hips against hers and she whimpered into my mouth, one of her hands going into my hair. Pinning her against the wall with my hips, I let go of her legs so I could run my hands over her shoulders, down her arms and up her sides as I reassured myself that she was okay.

  She was okay.

  She was okay.

  “Fuck,” I ground out as I ripped my mouth from hers. “Fuck!”

  “Will?” Her legs tightened around my waist as her hand slid out of my hair.

  “Motherfucking hell.”

  “What is wrong?” Molly demanded, her hands going to the sides of my face to force me to look at her. “What happened?”

  “You see the news?” I asked, meeting her eyes.

  “No. I’ve been giving Reb a bath and then putting her down for a nap. Why?”

  “Turn on the news,” I said flatly, stepping back so that her legs slid down my thighs and she was standing on her own two feet again.

  She looked at me in confusion, then grabbed my hand, pulling me with her to the couch.

  “What station?” she asked as we sat down.

  “Any of ’em.”

  “Oh, no,” she breathed, her hand reaching out to squeeze my thigh as she tuned in to the local station. “We were just there.”

  “I know,” I replied grimly. “Rose said she saw you.”

  “And you thought—” she trailed off as her eyes focused to me. “We’re fine.”

  “See that now.”

  “We saw the cop cars as we drove away,” she said, muting the TV as she turned to me. “We weren’t there.”

  “You saw the fuckin’ cop cars?” I growled, my heart starting to pound again.

  “Yeah, but we were already leaving. We—”

  An inarticulate noise came out of my throat as I grabbed the back of her neck.

  “You know how long it takes for a cop to respond to a 911 call?” I asked roughly. “You were there.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Will,” she whispered, crawling on top of me.

  The minute her ass hit my thighs, I lost my shit. She was trying to comfort me or something, but all I could feel was the weight of her pussy on my cock.

  I was on my feet and dropping her to the couch before she could protest, my hands going straight to the snap of her jeans.

  “Will?”

  “You sayin’ no?” I asked, jerking the jeans and panties down her thighs.

  “I’m not saying no,” she whispered, her eyes wide.

  I ripped the jeans off the rest of the way and stared. Ah, shit. She didn’t dye her hair and the freckles that covered her shoulders and cheeks also ran all the way up her thighs.

  “Shirt,” I ordered, jerking mine over my head.

  “I’ve got stretch marks,” she said nervously, her hands hesitating at the bottom of her sweatshirt.

  “I don’t give a fuck.” I grabbed a condom and tossed my wallet to the floor, trying to focus as I shucked off my jeans. “Shirt, Molly.”

  I was naked and suited up by the time she finally started pulling the sweatshirt off, but I didn’t have patience for her slow movements. I yanked her off the couch and tore the shirt over her head, my hands automatically going to the clasp of her bra.

  “Um,” she murmured nervously as I got my first sight of her tits.

  They looked heavy. Thick.

  I fell to the couch, pulling her on top of me so I could bury my face between them.

  Jesus, she had no angles. Every single piece of her was rounded and soft.

  I lifted one of her tits and weighed it in my hand. Yeah. I was going to dream about them for months.

  “Will?” she asked as I stuck two fingers in my mouth, getting them nice and wet.

  “Gorgeous,” I ground out as my hand slid between us.

  “You don’t have to say that.” Her breath hitched as my wet fingers found her clit.

  “Gorgeous,” I said again, sliding those same fingers inside her. “Shit, you didn’t need this did you?” I asked, jerking my hand up. “Already wet.”

  She groaned and dropped her head to my shoulder.

  I pulled out of her and grabbed my cock, pressing it down until the tip was riding right inside her.

  “Drop,” I ordered, my hand on her tit falling to her hip.

  Her breath was coming out in heavy pants against my neck.

  “Drop,” I ordered again, slapping her hip lightly.

  Then she did, and I was pretty sure my head was going to explode.

  “Oh, fuck!” I ground out as she took me in halfway. “That’s right,” I mumbled, pulling my hand from between us to grip her thigh. “Keep going. You’re so fucking sexy. Keep going, Moll.”

  I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words falling out of my mouth as she rocked, taking a little more in each time.

  Her head came away from my neck and her eyes were wet as they met mine.

  “You good?” I asked as she pressed down again.

  “It feels so good,” she mumbled, her words ending on a feminine grunt.

  Jesus. Moans were good, screaming was better, but when a woman grunted like that? It was hotter than anything else. It meant she was working for it.

  When her ass finally hit my balls, she let out this high-pitched noise from the back of
her throat and I was afraid for a second that I was going to embarrass myself.

  “Don’t stop,” I ordered as she froze. “Ride me.”

  My hands were sliding all over her. I couldn’t touch enough. I fucking loved it that she was on top—it meant that my hands were free to pinch and pull and grip.

  She didn’t lift up the way I expected her to. Instead, she did this hip roll that had me just barely sliding out of her before pressing inside again. It wasn’t what I needed, but by the way her breath hitched, it must have been exactly what she needed.

  “Look at you,” I said softly, pulling the ponytail out of her hair so it fell in waves over her back and tits. “Fuckin’ goddess.”

  That’s exactly what she looked like. Some sort of fertility goddess, with her little pouch of a belly, heavy tits and round thighs. Hell, I’d been sleeping with the wrong types of women.

  I pinched her nipples between my fingertips as she rocked, and when I didn’t get the reaction I wanted, I pressed harder, then harder, until finally, she jerked, tipping her head back as she moaned.

  She was perfect.

  Her hand came off my shoulder and slid down her belly until it was wedged between us. “I need just a little more,” she gasped, as if in explanation.

  “No,” I murmured, shaking my head as I gave her nipples another hard pinch. “You keep your hands on me,” I said, leaning forward to kiss her. “My hands on you.”

  I pulled her hand from between us and pulled it around my back before wrapping my hand around the top of her thigh so my thumb could reach her little red clit peeking out from where we were connected.

  She moaned into my mouth as I began to press, and her hips moved faster.

  It wasn’t just ego that had me wanting to get her off without her help. I was all for a woman doing her part. But I’d noticed that women tended to ease up once they started to come—like they couldn’t focus on what they were doing anymore. If I was the one driving it, I could make the orgasm last a fuck of a lot longer.

  I wanted Molly to lose her mind.

  “Look at you,” I said quietly as her forehead rested against mine. “Look how white your skin is against mine, so fuckin’ pretty.”

  “Jesus, Will,” she replied, panting. “I’m so close.”

  “Keep going,” I ordered, licking her lips. “Your clit is so fuckin’ swollen and hard.”

  “Are you going to keep giving me a play by play?” she teased, her breath hitching as I pinched her nipple hard and lifted her entire breast with it.

  “You like it when I give you a play by play,” I growled. “My thighs are fuckin’ dripping with you.”

  I twisted her nipple and let her tit fall, and she came hard, her pussy clamping down on my cock almost to the point of pain.

  She moaned loud and long, her head falling forward until her hair was almost completely covering her face.

  Then it was finally my turn.

  I slid forward off the couch onto my knees and used one arm to shove her coffee table out of the way so I could lay her on the floor. I stayed up on my knees and held her hips high so I could pull back and shove back in hard.

  “I’m going to come again,” she said in surprise, her back arching as she reached down to dig her nails into my thighs. “Please, oh, fuck.”

  I must have been hitting just the right spot because she was suddenly flooding my dick, making everything even wetter.

  Her tits bounced with every thrust, her nipples red from my fingers.

  I came when her pussy clamped down on me the second time, making my vision go black at the edges.

  I dropped back onto my heels as I caught my breath and tried to force my stiff fingers from the tight grip I had on her hips. I could feel sweat dripping down my back, and the hair at the sides of my face was wet.

  “You’re absurdly good at that,” Molly said after a moment, reaching up to cover her tits with her hands.

  I was still inside her and she was already feeling self-conscious. Ridiculous.

  “So are you,” I said, falling forward on my hands so I was bracing myself above her.

  What was left of my anxiety disappeared when she grinned at me.

  “You’re so handsome,” she said softly.

  I scoffed and pulled back, grimacing as I slid out of her.

  “Oh, no, did the condom break?” she asked worriedly as she glanced down.

  I reached down to take it off with a snap, shaking my head. “Nope, sugar, that’s all you,” I answered with a grin.

  I reached down to my hip and swiped my hand across the wet there, smoothing it over my lower stomach as she gaped at me. Then I gave my half-mast cock a tug.

  “You’re nasty,” she whispered.

  “And you love it,” I replied, laughing.

  “Oh, my God,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I totally do.”

  “Come on,” I said, still chuckling as I stood up and pulled her with me. “We need a shower.”

  “I need to disinfect that couch,” she grumbled as I tugged her past it. “And we need to be quiet so we don’t wake the baby.”

  I found my wallet on the floor and snatched it up—just in case—then let her lead me through her bedroom and into the master bath. She turned on the shower as I stared at her ass, wondering if she’d let me have her again.

  “Come on,” she said quietly as she stepped inside the huge tub. The thing was so big, I bet she could practically swim in it when it was filled.

  “I can’t believe there was a shooting at the mall,” she said quietly as I pulled her against my chest underneath the spray of water. “That’s nuts.”

  “Don’t go there anymore,” I ordered, leaning over to get a bar of soap from the ledge of the tub.

  “I have to go to the mall,” she said with a small laugh. “We don’t go there very often, but we can’t just not go ever.”

  “Shop somewhere else.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “You ever seen someone die from a gunshot wound?” I snapped, realizing how stupid the question was after I’d said it.

  “Yeah, actually I have,” she said quietly, stepping back.

  “Then you know.” I lathered up my hands and ran them over her chest, down her belly and between her thighs. “You have to be careful.”

  “I am careful,” she argued stubbornly as I put her back under the spray and soaped myself up. “I’m always careful—but I can’t become a recluse.”

  As she brushed off my worry like I was being an idiot, the full effect of what I’d done getting involved with her hit me.

  “Do what you want,” I said in irritation, moving around her so I could rinse myself off. She watched as I made sure all the soap was gone then stepped out of the shower. I grabbed a towel hanging from the rack and sniffed it before drying myself off.

  “Are you mad?” Molly asked as she followed me out of the shower.

  “Nope.”

  I walked out of the bathroom and headed for my clothes. I was stupid for going over there. A lot of shit had happened since the shooting that had killed my little brother. Life went on, and it wasn’t exactly like I was living a squeaky-clean one. I’d been around guns—hell, I’d been shot at. The Aces were constantly having to police our boundaries and keep contacts and clients from fucking with us. The shit we shipped meant that we were always on guard.

  But just the thought of a shooting involving women and kids made me fucking crazy. My reaction wasn’t normal, I knew that. But if it was up to me? All the old ladies and kids of the club would live inside the club gates, like a fucking commune.

  Luckily, most of the old ladies had a keen sense of self-preservation. They didn’t take chances and the phrase ‘better safe than sorry’ was pretty much their way of life. They’d all seen firsthand what happened if you let your guard down.

  So why had I thought that I could get with a woman who didn’t have the sense to stay the fuck away from a shooting? Why had I thought I should get wit
h anyone at all? I wanted another person to worry about like I wanted the fucking clap.

  I pulled on my jeans and buttoned up the fly just as Molly came down the hallway in a towel.

  “I don’t understand why you’re mad,” she said, coming to a stop at the end of the couch, just as I nabbed my shirt off the floor.

  “Not mad, Molly.” No, I wasn’t mad—I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Showing up had been a bad idea.

  “I thought we were having fun,” she said in confusion, taking a step forward. “I thought—”

  “It was fun,” I cut her off, pulling on my socks and boots.

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  “I got shit to do and your kid’s gonna be up soon, right?” The words weren’t too bad, but the way I’d said them made Molly step back again, her arms crossing protectively over her chest.

  “Right,” Molly replied, her chin lifting.

  I pulled my flannel up my arms and stuffed my wallet in my pocket before walking toward her. I leaned down to kiss her, but my lips hit her cheek as she turned her face away.

  “I’ll call you,” I said, moving past her toward the front door.

  “Sure you will,” I heard her whisper behind me as I pulled the front door open and escaped through it.

  I was such a fucking idiot.

  Chapter 5

  Molly

  “Oh, come on,” Mel whined, flopping down across my bed. “I want to go out.”

  “Then go out!” I snapped, shoving clean clothes into my dresser. “I’m not stopping you.”

  “I don’t want to go by myself.”

  “Too bad.”

  I dodged her grasping fingers as I rounded the bed, picking up Rebel and setting her into the laundry basket I was carrying into her room. She barely acknowledged me as she played with a little board book that had a different textured animal on each page.

  “You’re being a baby!” Mel called as she followed me into Reb’s room. “He probably won’t even be there.”

  “Aren’t we going so you can try and see Rocky again?”

  It had been three weeks since Will had left my house like his ass was on fire, and I hadn’t heard a word from him, not that he had my number or anything. We hadn’t exactly exchanged them when I was riding him on my damn couch. But Will knew where I lived and where I worked. If he’d wanted to see me, he would’ve. Clearly, he didn’t want to.

 

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