by Maren Lee
“In exchange for helping me out, what do you want? I could help you with something?”
“Molly. This is not an exchange situation. You want to have sex with me. I want to have sex with you. We have sex. More than once, hopefully. I want nothing in return except for your legs-for-days wrapped around my back while I'm buried deep inside of you.”
Whoa.
“Oh. Um. Okay. So, should we go to my room? Get this done?” She started to stand.
“We’re not having sex now, Molly.”
“We’re not?” She sat back down, trying to disguise her disappointment.
“No. We have to make sure we have chemistry first.”
No!
“We do?”
“Yes.”
“How do we do that?”
He looked at her lips. Oh. He’s going to kiss you.
He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. His lips were softer than she had anticipated. He pulled back and smiled. Molly took her glasses off and set them on the side table. He leaned in and kissed her again. This time with a bit more of an open mouth, his lower lip doing much of the work. Molly moaned. His tongue swept out of his mouth and into hers.
She caught fire. There was no other phrase to capture what happened to Molly in that moment. She threw her arms around his neck and hopped up on his lap, straddling him. Her tongue joined with his as his arms came around her and he grabbed her ass in his hands. She grinded on the crotch of his sweat pants. Sweet baby Jesus. It was clear through the thin fabric of his pants that he was packing a boa constrictor in there.
Wesson moaned and then pulled back. Molly wasn’t letting go as easily. He softly tugged on her hair to separate them. Fuck. That felt good. Really good.
“Molly, good golly, you can kiss, woman. But we can’t do this.”
What?!
“What?! I think we have chemistry, Wesson. So, yes. I do think we can do this. Take me to bed.” Shoot. You’re begging, again, Molly. Only this time you’re sober.
“Oh we definitely have chemistry. And I want to take you to bed, on the table, bent over the counter, in the shower, you know... everywhere. But I have a three-date rule, Molly.”
Molly laughed. Is he serious? The look on his face said that he was serious. Shoot.
“Three dates? I thought that was a girl rule.” She grabbed her glasses and put them back on, looking at him quizzically.
“Maybe. But it’s also my rule.”
“Wesson, let’s just make this easy. I just need to rip off the Bandaid and get it over with. We can be friends. It can be just a one time thing if you want. More than once if you want that too. I don't need commitment or wooing. Friends with benefits works for me right now. I just need this monkey off my back.”
Wesson hushed her. “No. I don’t want this to be friends with benefits. That always ends up weird. I don't want this to just be about sex or the monkey on your back. We’re friends, Molly. We hang out with the same group of people. I don’t want to jump into something and ruin everything we already have just because I can’t stop touching your hot body as it’s grinding all over my cock.” He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up and making it look even sexier. “You deserve better than that. And so do I. If you want this to just be about sex, as much as it pains me, you’ll have to find another man to help you out, doll, because I guarantee once I have you, I sure as shit won’t be able to stop.”
Molly felt like she was going to pass out from swooning so hard. Is this guy for real? How did she not realize that Wesson would be like this?
“So you’re saying you want a relationship?”
“I can’t make promises, but yeah. I’d like that. I’m not into the friends with benefits things and I certainly can’t do a one-night only with you, Molly. That would open up a huge van of worms.”
Van?
“That's a lot of worms.” Molly smiled. She wanted to kiss his face off.
“You’re damn right it is.”
“Okay, so…”
“You already mean too much to me, Molly. I wanna do this right. You want to do it right with me?”
“I...uh, I think so. Let’s try it. Three dates?”
“Yep. And just a warning. I am going to make you tell me the ‘why’ part of your story on one of those dates. I need to know.”
Molly sighed. “Okay, yeah. You do actually need to know.”
Wesson furrowed his brow. “You up to telling me now?”
“Can we just sit and enjoy each other’s company for now? I don’t want to taint this moment. Does this count as date one?” she asked, hopeful.
“Nope. You got plans on Saturday?”
Molly immediately felt disappointed. It was Sunday. She was going to have to wait until Saturday just to get date one under her belt. “No plans.”
“I wish I could take you out tomorrow, but I have no clue how long it’s going to take to install my mom’s new security system.”
Molly suddenly felt like a jerk for being disappointed. “Oh, that’s seriously no problem. Do you need help? I have to work all day, but I could take a break and bring you lunch or I could come help you when I get off work?”
“Lunch would be good,” he smiled.
“Yeah?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yeah.”
“Does that count as a date?”
“So eager, young Jedi,” he teased. “But no. A lunch break is not a date. A date is me picking you up and taking you out and paying for the whole thing and dropping you off and kissing you goodnight at your doorstep.”
“I disagree with your definition, but fine. I’ll play by your rules.”
“Thank you for agreeing, Molly.”
“I feel like I should be thanking you for agreeing to my proposal.”
“Your proposal was super dirty last night. It was hard to say no, to be honest.”
Molly groaned again. “Seriously, will you ever let me live that down?”
“Not a chance, sweet cheeks.”
Molly smiled and snuggled into him, kissing his neck. “What should we do the rest of the day if we aren’t going on a date and we aren’t having sex?”
“Netflix?”
“And chill?”
“Girl, you seriously need to stop. My three date rule is solid. Never been broken. Just Netflix. No chilling allowed.”
She smiled, a new goal forming in her mind. Break the three date rule.
“Have you ever watched Sons of Anarchy? Sierra was telling me about it. I was thinking of starting it.” She hoped he hadn't seen it so that they could have a show they could watch together.
“I haven’t seen it. Let’s watch it.”
“Perfect.”
They settled into the couch, into each other’s arms, and proceeded to watch Jax Teller - in Wesson’s words - fuck shit up.
Chapter 5
Wesson spent the morning replacing the batteries in the motion detectors for his mom's security system and adding window and door mounted sensors to every access point. His mom was going to be as secure as possible. If he could add a forcefield around her place he’d do that too, but unfortunately, that wasn’t a real thing. It looked so real in the movies though...
Molly texted him and told him she would be by shortly. His cock throbbed at the thought of seeing her again.
Last night had been even more torturous than the night before. She was sober and relaxed. They’d gotten all the preliminary details out of the way. Her mouth was his to kiss. Her hair his to run his hands through. Her lower back his to touch. Molly apparently felt that his lap was hers to straddle, because she’d done that more than once last night when they were supposed to be watching SOA. Wesson wasn’t going to complain, but his resolve to stick with his three date rule was seriously going to be tested by this woman.
It had only been thirteen hours since he kissed her goodnight and he was missing her already. He’d never felt this way about
a girl. He’d damn sure never missed any of them before.
A clatter in the kitchen brought his mind back to reality.
“Hey, speed racer, you okay in there?” Wesson shouted to his mom.
“Oh, you shut the hell up, son!” she shouted back. She wheeled herself into the living room. “Who's this girl who has you all sorts of distracted? She's got to be amazing. You've been standing on the ladder staring out the window for ten minutes.”
“Why do you think it’s a girl, Ma?”
“Ooooh!” she clapped, enthusiastically. “Sorry. Who is this boy that has you all sorts of distracted?”
Wesson shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I know you’re disappointed that I’m straight, but for the last time, Ma: I’m not gay,” Wesson laughed. “I'm sorry. I know I haven't been very attentive today. It is a girl. And yeah, she's better than amazing. She's smart, gorgeous, funny, she doesn't swear, and she's got the most amazing tit-”
“Please do not talk about her lady parts like that, Wess. But what the fuck do you mean she doesn't swear?”
“Like, instead of saying ‘oh shit!’ she’ll, I don’t know, probably say something like ‘cheese and crackers’ or ‘oh, kitten mittens.’ It’s fucking adorable.” His cheeks were already starting to hurt from so much damn smiling.
“Kitten mittens? Why is everything about cats with you? You're the only man - hell the only person - I know who takes his cat places.” His mom reached over and scratched the cat’s head.
Wesson had always been a self-proclaimed “cat man,” but he never actually intended to have a cat of his own. He bought it as a wedding present for Jake and Lane, as a bit of a peace offering to Lane. The two had discovered their mutual love of cats and Wesson thought it would be the perfect present. He was wrong. Jake flipped his shit. Apparently, a cat will sit on a baby’s face and suffocate it in its crib. Dramatic, much?
Lane was kind of bummed she couldn’t keep the cat, but sided with her new husband and father of her child. When Wesson decided not to return it to the shelter and keep the cat for himself, Lane asked if she could help him name it. He really should have said no.
Lane tried to name his fuckin’ cat Michael Jordan. It made sense if it were her cat: she was from Chicago and she loved the Bulls. Wesson, however, had been a Los Angeles Lakers fan since he was a kid. He was not having it.
So they compromised.
“I don't take my cat places, Mom. I bring Kobe Michael to your house. That's it. I never planned on having a cat who travels, but he gets so pissed every time I leave him home when I'm not in uniform. One time he ripped up the fuckin’ carpet in my bedroom, and I'm pretty sure it was in the shape of a paw flipping me off.” Wesson leaned over and petted the cat on the head. “Didn't you, bud?”
Kobe Michael leaned into Wesson’s hand, purring like the cute little fucker he was. Yeah, that’s right. His name was Kobe Michael. Never just Kobe. Never just Michael. Always Kobe Michael.
The doorbell rang. Wesson tried to beat his mom to the door but her power wheelchair was too quick for him to maneuver around in the small space. His mom opened the door and an ear-to-ear grin immediately plastered her face.
Dang, she’s so pretty. The sunlight came through the doorway, illuminating Molly’s blond hair. It was swept over to the side today and in a loose braid. Wesson was never going to get over the sexpot librarian look she had going on with her black-rimmed glasses.
His mom’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Molly Mooney! I haven't seen you since you were knee high to a cricket’s eye!” his mom gushed. “I know you don’t remember me, but I used to work at the daycare here in town when you were just a little tyke. Your parents were always so nice to me.”
Molly smiled. “You have an amazing memory, Ms. Campbell. I was just talking to my mom on my way over here. She remembers you fondly and asked me to tell you hello.”
“That is so sweet! Please, call me Rachel. I assume you’re here to see Wesson?” she asked.
Molly’s nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yes. You have a lovely home, Rachel.”
“Oh stop. You've already got my vote if you’re the one who has been making my son smile all morning, sweetie. Come on in. I'll back up and get out of your way.”
Way to give away my secrets already, ma.
Molly stepped through the doorway as the wheelchair backed up. As soon as there was a space for Wesson to get through, he stepped into the entryway and pulled Molly into his arms, lifting her up off the ground.
“Wesson!” she squealed. “I don't want to drop all this food!” Molly laughed as he spun her in a circle with the plastic grocery bags swinging.
“Sorry, sugar. I just had to have you in my arms,” he spoke softly near her ear. Goosebumps popped up on her neck. A shiver rolled through her body. He felt pride knowing he had that effect on her. He kissed her on the lips chastely and lowered her to the ground, making sure every inch of her body rubbed against his as she made her way down. Holy god. His dick was not going to be able to take much more of this.
“Oh my! If you're going to hug me like that, then feel free to pick me up anytime you please.” Molly blushed.
“I'll remember you said that,” he said with a wink.
Wesson’s mom cleared her throat behind them.
“Sorry, Ma. Forgot you were here for a minute. I asked Molly to bring some lunch by. You okay with a surprise guest?”
“Are you kidding me? This is suddenly on my list of favorite days ever! Get in here, Molly.”
Wesson placed his hand on the small of Molly’s back as he led her toward the kitchen. “Let’s eat some food, ladies.”
“I apologize it’s nothing special. Just grabbed some sandwich fixings and salads at the deli. Didn’t have time to do anything fancy.”
“Oh hush, Molly. This looks wonderful. I was about to just whip up the old mac ‘n cheese, so this is practically gourmet!” Rachel went out of her way to make Molly feel at ease.
“Seriously, this is perfect, babe. I fuckin’ love sandwiches. How's your day been?” Wesson asked as they sat around the kitchen table.
“Pretty good. Had a few appointments this morning. Going back to the office after this to prepare for my appointments out at the prison tomorrow.”
“How often do you go out there?”
“Once a week. Every Tuesday.”
The state prison was closer to Billings than it was to Imminence, so it was quite a commute. He was grateful she was only on that long stretch of road once a week. If they were still together come winter, though, he was probably going to freak out. Winters in Montana were not for the faint of heart.
“I wonder why they don’t bring the patients to you like we do with the county inmates?” Wesson wondered out loud.
“There are a lot more inmates out at the prison that require psychotropic meds so I usually have a bunch of appointments lined up every Tuesday. It’s easier to just see them all in a row at the secure clinic. I feel safer that way, anyway.”
Wesson didn’t like her working with that level of crazy, but he nodded along. What the fuck are psychotropic meds?
“What time are your appointments tomorrow? I have a transport out there. Maybe we’ll run into each other?”
Molly smiled. “9 a.m. to 1:30.”
Wesson grinned back. “Maybe we should do a late lunch in Billings?”
“Should we make a date of it?” Molly asked.
Wesson nearly choked on his pasta salad.
“Is my son still sticking to that damn three-date rule of his?” Rachel chimed in. “It’s why I assumed he was into men. No hormonal young man wants to go on three dates before seeing some action from a pretty girl!”
Jesus H. Christ, Mother.
It was Molly’s turn to choke on her water.
“Ma. Are you serious? Inappropriate lunch conversation! Don't make me wheel you outta here.” Wesson was more embarrassed than angry, but he put on a goo
d show.
“Wesson, seriously. Molly is a catch. Shit or get off the hot tin roof, is what I always say. What in the hell is taking you so long for you to seal this deal?!” She threw a grape from the fruit bowl at him.
Molly snorted. She clearly thought Rachel was a riot.
“Ma! You know I'm not into rushing things. And don't throw grapes! Kobe Michael could get ahold of one and get sick.” He reached down and picked up the grape and set it on the table.
“Oh please, Wess. That damn cat deserves to get sick if he eats grapes.” His mom rolled her eyes.
