Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons #2)

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  “Don’t say shit like that,” Cam muttered, glaring at her. “Nothin’ happening to you. Ever.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Trix replied, rolling her eyes at me.

  “It’s all good—” My words cut off as Mel and Rocky started kissing. Right there at the table. Like they weren’t in the middle of a crowded bar. I was pretty sure I saw Rocky’s tongue.

  Will laughed at the disgusted look on my face.

  “You didn’t mention you saw me, huh?” he said quietly, leaning down toward my ear so I could hear him.

  “Of course not.”

  “Wasn’t my best moment,” he murmured, his voice tight.

  I tilted my head up to look at him and swallowed hard. His face was closer than I’d realized.

  “You’d had a hard day,” I replied seriously, making his lips quirk.

  “That’s a fuckin’ understatement, sugar,” he whispered back.

  “Yeah.” I gave him a sad smile at the remembrance of that hellish day.

  He’d come into the hospital, full of bullet holes and in and out of consciousness. When he was out, I’d heard that he was an ideal patient, in good physical shape and without any underlying health problems. While he was awake, though? He’d raised holy hell until they’d had to strap him down.

  That’s how I’d seen him. By the time he’d reached the floor I was on, he’d been stitched up and cleaned off, and was restrained like an animal.

  “You don’t wear glasses anymore,” Will said abruptly, making me realize that we were still staring into each other’s eyes like the main characters in a Lifetime movie.

  “I do,” I replied, looking back down at my beer. “I just have contacts in tonight. Less nerdy for a night on the town.”

  “I liked the glasses,” he teased, just as Mel and Rocky climbed to their feet.

  “We’re out of here!” Mel announced as she grabbed her purse off the back of the chair. “You’re good with Will, right?” she asked me, not waiting for an answer before saying, “Of course you are. Call me in the morning!”

  She took off and I watched in horror as my ride walked away. She didn’t even know that guy! He could be a serial killer. He could be into weird, kinky sex games. He could tie her up and make her his kitchen slave, which would never work since Mel sucked at cooking anything but ramen, and then he’d kill her for not doing her slave-job.

  I shot to my feet, scrambling to stop her.

  “He’s a good guy,” Will said, grabbing my forearm gently. “I mean, I doubt he’ll marry her—but he’s not gonna hurt her.”

  “What the fuck?” I snapped, my eyes wide. “She doesn’t even know him!”

  “Sugar, you don’t have to know someone to leave the bar with them,” Will laughed. “She’s fine—I promise.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll text Rock and make sure he’s on his best behavior.”

  “But—”

  “You can text Mel, too.”

  “But she was my freaking ride!” I moaned.

  I dropped back down into my seat as Will’s smile grew wide. “I’ll give you a ride home on my bike.”

  Oh, shitballs.

  “I could grab a cab,” I argued, still scowling.

  “You don’t want to ride with me?” Will’s voice dropped, and for a second I thought he’d asked if I wanted to ride him.

  “Uh, no, that’s fine,” I stuttered once I realized he wasn’t trying to have sex with me. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” His arm went back around me, and for a moment, I almost wanted to lean in against his chest the way Trix was with Cam. They seemed so comfortable with each other.

  I’d had that with Mason, the ease and comfort that came with being with a person for a long time. But Mason hadn’t been into public displays of affection. I knew he was faithful, and his eyes never strayed, but I’d wondered sometimes if I’d embarrassed him. He was a football star, bound for great things, and I wasn’t exactly the type of girl people had expected to see on his arm. We hadn’t matched—not at all.

  “We’re gonna head out, too,” Cam announced, kissing Trix’s forehead. “Boys’ll be home early in the mornin’.”

  “Alright,” Will said with a nod, “Helpin’ Dad out at the house this weekend—I’ll see ya Monday, though.”

  “I think Gramps asked Leo to help with that retaining wall at the back of the house this weekend, too,” Trix said as Cam helped her pull a leather jacket over her arms. “Are you helping with that?”

  “Nah,” Will shook his head. “Poet said he’d pay Tommy to help on Sunday, so I’m going to kick back and watch football.”

  “He’s paying him?” Trix asked incredulously.

  “That’s what I said,” Will chuckled. “If he is, I’m not helpin’ for free.”

  “Yeah, right. You’ll be there,” Cam said, slapping Will on the shoulder. He turned to me. “Nice to meet you, Molly—”

  “Duncan,” I filled in. “You, too.”

  Trix smiled, but Cam’s eyes narrowed. “Duncan?”

  “Yeah.” I grit my teeth. “And yes, my dad’s the Club’s attorney.”

  “And that’s why she keeps her mouth shut,” Cam muttered to himself with a small smile, his eyes still on me.

  “You done?” Will asked.

  Cam nodded and steered Trix away from the table.

  “Is it really a big deal that my dad’s—”

  “Let’s get outta here,” Will said, cutting me off as he climbed to his feet.

  “Maybe I want to stay.”

  “Do you?”

  “Not really,” I conceded, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Then let’s go.”

  He pulled me to my feet and grasped my hand firmly, pulling me through the crowded bar and out the front door. The air was cool outside and I wanted to bitch at Mel again for making me leave the house without a coat on. I was going to get hypothermia if I tried to ride on a motorcycle.

  “Here, sugar,” Will said, unbuckling a bag that hung on the side of his motorcycle. He pulled out a sweatshirt and raised it to his face to sniff it.

  “It’s not clean, but it doesn’t stink,” he said seriously, holding it out so I’d slip my arms into it.

  I inhaled deeply as he pulled the huge sweatshirt over my head. It definitely didn’t stink. It smelled like Will and a little bit like the inside of a garage. My heart pounded.

  “You look cute as shit,” Will said with a chuckle as he rolled the sweatshirt sleeves up.

  “I am cute as shit,” I said back, nodding my head.

  I loved alcohol. Why didn’t I drink more often? I should be going out once a week. It was fun.

  “You realize that these helmets do very little to protect your dome, right?” I asked as he set a skull cap helmet on my head. “I mean, if you wreck this murdercycle, a helmet like this isn’t going to help you.”

  “Murdercycle?” he asked, smiling as he buckled the helmet.

  Wow, being out in the fresh air had made the little buzz I’d had going multiply by a thousand.

  “It’s a death trap,” I told him seriously as he climbed on and helped me up behind him.

  He turned his torso and looked down at me with a huge grin. “Might be a death trap, but it’s fun as fuck.”

  Then he fired up the bike and pulled my arms tight around his waist.

  I knew then that things were not going to end well. I liked his death trap a little too much.

  Chapter 2

  Will

  Molly Duncan.

  I shook my head as she led me toward her little single-wide in the middle of a trailer park that looked like it was for old people. I was sure that my bike had woken a few of them up, but thankfully, no one had come outside to investigate. Especially since the moment I’d shut my bike off, the crazy girl had started shushing me, like my voice was going to wake the neighbors.

  “Home sweet home,” Molly announced as she pushed her way inside.

  The place was clean. A bit shabby—but n
ot run down. Her trailer was probably only about ten years old, and she had it all painted and decorated and shit. And there were toys all over the place.

  “Do you want a drink?” Molly asked, fidgeting as I closed the door behind me. “I have soda and water. Or I have milk—but it’s whole milk.” She scrunched up her nose in disgust, and I wanted to laugh so fucking bad, but I could tell she was nervous and I didn’t want to embarrass her.

  But seriously? Did she just ask me if I wanted milk?

  “I’m good,” I said moving toward her. “I like your place.”

  “It’s not much, but it’s what we can afford. I didn’t want to be in debt, so I made sure that we made a life within our means—shit.” She dropped her chin to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. “I should’ve just said ‘thank you,’ huh?”

  “That woulda worked, yeah.”

  “Okay, thank you.”

  I watched her as her gaze shot around the room and her hands fidgeted, her fingers coming up to her lips before dropping back down again. After she’d done it a couple times, she finally looked up and met my eyes.

  “I make you nervous?” I asked. I knew I did, but I also wanted to hear her say it.

  She was like a bunny—

  Jesus.

  What the hell was wrong with me? A bunny?

  Straight out? Molly was the type of woman that every guy wanted to settle down with, and no guy touched otherwise. It wasn’t necessarily because she was innocent—she wasn’t. She’d had a kid already. But you knew just by looking at her that if you hooked up with her, your days of random pussy were over.

  She was sexy as hell—round ass, slender waist, nice big tits—but it was clear that she didn’t get around.

  She wasn’t out fucking randoms.

  She wasn’t a barfly.

  The woman was a single parent and had a good job.

  She was old lady material.

  Wife material.

  Fuck.

  I should have never walked up to her at the bar.

  “It’s just weird, you know?” Molly said, throwing her arms out to her sides. “I’ve known you forever, so I feel like I know you. But I don’t, really. We were friends in grade school—everyone’s friends in grade school! But you could be a total douche now.”

  “Are you asking if I’m a douche?”

  “No!” she blurted, eyes wide. “I’m just saying I feel like I know you, but I really don’t.”

  “I’m the same guy you grew up with,” I murmured, taking another step closer. Fuck, she was cute. I wanted to bite her, make her whimper for me to stop and then beg me to start again.

  “Do you want to watch a movie? Let’s watch a movie!” she suggested out of nowhere, spinning around and racing toward the nice-as-shit entertainment set up she had going.

  “Nice TV,” I said in surprise. How the hell had I missed the massive flat screen mounted on her living room wall?

  “Thanks,” she chirped, grabbing a couple remotes and flopping down onto the couch. “I’m an only child, so my dad goes a little overboard on birthday gifts.”

  “That right?” I asked, moving toward the couch.

  “I know, I know. So why do I live in a trailer, right?” she asked with a small smile. “He’d totally support us—no question. But I want to do it on my own. I have a good job, so there’s no reason for him to be paying my bills.”

  Complete Old Lady material.

  I was so fucked.

  “You like being a nurse?” I asked as I sat down beside her. I wanted to wrap my arm around her, but I was pretty sure she’d bolt off the couch with some excuse to leave the room.

  “I love it,” she answered. “I like helping people, and the human body is freaking fascinating and gross.” She laughed. “Really gross. But that’s what’s cool about it.”

  “Did you—”

  “How’s your mom?” she asked at the same time.

  “My mom?” There went the half-chub I’d been sporting since I’d seen her in the bar earlier.

  “Yeah—I loved her when we were kids,” Molly said, leaning her head back against the couch and rolling it toward me. “She always brought the best snacks and when I’d stand next to her, she’d run her hand down the back of my head like she was smoothing my hair down.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed, giving me a sleepy smile as she lifted the remote in her hand toward me. “You pick.”

  She was going to fall asleep. We knew it, but instead of getting up to leave and letting her go to bed, I took the remote from her hand and turned on the TV.

  “How about 300?” Molly asked as I scrolled through the cable listings.

  “Really?”

  “I’ll probably be asleep before anything actually happens,” she said, quietly laughing.

  “You want me to go?” I looked down at where she’d curled herself into a ball on the couch.

  “Not really.”

  “Alright.” I reached down and pulled at the laces of my boots, breathing a sigh of relief when I pulled them off and my socks weren’t stained and didn’t smell like ass. “Come here,” I murmured, pulling Molly against my side.

  I was in the fucking Twilight Zone.

  I tried to remember the last time I’d spent time with a chick when I hadn’t been getting into her pants—but I didn’t have even one memory. From the time I was fourteen years old and I’d realized how soft women’s bodies were, I’d had one end game. Getting off.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening with Molly as she sleepily leaned into me.

  I hadn’t even kissed her.

  “Oh, I forgot about the uniforms in this movie,” Molly murmured with a low hum. “Look at those muscles.”

  I froze, glancing down at her as her eyes widened.

  Then I covered her face with my hand. “Aren’t you falling asleep?” I grumbled. “Better shut those eyes.”

  Less than fifteen minutes later, her body was like a noodle, and her head was sliding farther and farther down my chest with each breath she took. There was no way she was comfortable like that, but she slept right through it.

  Screw it.

  “Will?” Molly asked as I lifted her up so I could stretch out on the couch next to her.

  “Still here,” I said quietly, kissing the top of her head.

  “Oh, good.”

  Then she was out again—even as I moved her limp arms and legs around so she was lying against the back of the couch and covering me like a blanket.

  I was such a pussy. If any of the boys had seen me then, they would have given me shit about it for the rest of my life.

  I reached out and nabbed the remote—shutting off the TV so the house was quiet and dark. Then I just lay there, wide awake as Molly drooled on my chest.

  She was a drooler. Why wasn’t that shit bugging me?

  I’d known little Molly Duncan for as long as I could remember. When we were kids, she’d been this tiny little thing that always had lopsided pigtails and wore shit that sparkled. Always with the sparkles.

  As we’d gotten older, she’d just sort of faded into the background of our schools. It’s not like I hadn’t known when she was around, I’d just never cared. She wasn’t a girl that put out. All the boys had known that by just looking at her. And even though you heard shit about locker room boasting and bets being made about getting into girls’ pants, she’d never been the topic of much conversation. She was just there—answering questions in class and giggling with her friends just like every other high school girl.

  She’d become a bit more visible when Mason Flanders transferred to our school sophomore year and started dating her, but their relationship meant that she was an even less likely lay, so I’d continued to ignore her.

  Hell, I probably never would have looked at her again if I hadn’t seen her at the hospital. Even in a bar, my eyes would have slid right past her.

  I closed my eyes and sighed, putting my hand on Molly’s back as she shifted
against me.

  I’d been out of my mind when she’d walked into my hospital room that night. Between the drugs and what had gone on that day, I’d been fucking rabid. A family barbeque had turned into a shoot-out with some guys that I’d used to buy steroids from, and in the end, four of my family members were dead and my mom had been shot in the chest. Looking back, I wasn’t surprised that the nurses had strapped me down. I’d needed it. But at the time, it had felt like a prison. I’d been in the same hospital as my mother, but no one would tell me where she was or how she was. I hadn’t even known if she was alive or not.

  “Let me the fuck outta here,” I yelled, pulling hard at the straps on my wrists. The metal groaned as the restraints shifted, and I found myself wishing that I hadn’t stopped taking the fucking steroids. I needed to find out what the fuck was happening.

  “Will!” a voice shouted. “Stop.”

  I looked toward the door where a couple of orderlies were standing, but I couldn’t see shit beyond their wide chests. Jesus, those fuckers were fat. I could take them.

  I clenched my teeth and pulled at my arms again, my chest burning so bad that for a second, I thought for sure I was going to pass out.

  “Will, quit!” the voice said again, closer.

  I opened my eyes to see a familiar face staring down at me. I knew those blue eyes that were almost hidden behind a pair of glasses. I knew that dark blonde hair.

  “Molly,” I ground out. “Untie me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I really can’t,” she said softly.

  The tenderness in her expression fucking gutted me and I slammed my eyes closed again as my stomach clenched on a sob.

  “Just let me up,” I said hoarsely, opening my eyes.

  “You have to calm down,” she said back. Then I felt her fingers in my hair. “They won’t untie you until you can keep your shit together.”

  “I’m good,” I promised. “I’m good.”

  “I know,” she sighed, her fingers still running through my hair. “But I can’t undo the restraints.”