Craving Molly

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  “Ew!” I screeched as he pinned me down, straddling my waist as he leaned down until his beard was rubbing against my mouth and chin. “It’s gone! It’s gone!” I laughed until my stomach hurt, but he continued to rub his beard all over my face.

  “You gonna lick my cake again?” he asked, breathless.

  I screwed my mouth up to the side as his brows furrowed. “Is that a euphemism?” I asked seriously.

  Will threw his head back and laughed loudly, shaking the entire couch.

  “Moll, you can lick that cake whenever you want,” he said, leaning back to reach down and grip the erection trapped behind his jeans. “You want some now?”

  I burst out laughing as he grinned, falling back over me. “I got some cake for you,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to mine. “Fuck, I dig you, woman.”

  His tongue slid into my mouth, and all laughter left us as I reached up to grip the back of his head. He was still braced up on his knees, our bodies barely touching, but I felt that kiss everywhere.

  “Come on,” he ordered, pulling away from my mouth. He climbed off the couch and pulled me with him, grabbing my ass as he ushered me down the hallway to my room. By the time we got through my bedroom doorway, there was no space between us. Will’s hands had travelled both north and south, with one hand gripping my breast and the other up the front of my skirt.

  “Will,” I moaned as his fingers pressed against the front of my underwear.

  “Hands on the wall,” he said roughly.

  The hand on my breast fell away and I arched in response, my ass pressing against his thighs. Our height difference was really fucking annoying sometimes. I felt his hand brush my lower back as I braced my hands against the wall, then his fingers were at the back of my neck, sliding the zipper of my dress down.

  “You looked gorgeous today,” he said quietly as his lips landed against the skin between my shoulder blades. “All dressed up.”

  “Hurry,” I replied, reaching down between my legs to press his hand harder against me.

  He chuckled against my back, then jerked his hand from between my legs, making me huff in frustration. I opened my mouth to complain, but closed it again when my dress was pushed off my shoulders. I lowered my arms and let it slide to the floor, and when Will unclipped my bra, I let that fall, too. I dropped a hand to push at my panties, but he slapped it away and pulled those off himself.

  Putting my hand back on the wall, I looked over my shoulder to find Will pulling his shirt over his head. His jeans were already undone, his dick out and covered in a condom.

  “Been thinkin’ all night about throwin’ that dress up and fucking you,” he explained, kicking off his boots and jeans. “But when it came down to it, I wanted to see all that pretty pale skin.”

  “I’m not that pale,” I argued, dropping my head forward as he stepped in close.

  “You are compared to me,” he said, pushing my braid over my shoulder so he could kiss the back of my neck.

  He dropped to his knees and I froze, then awkwardly shuffled my feet wider as he pressed against my inner thighs with his hands. It was a weird position, his face almost pressed against my ass. I didn’t consider myself a prude, but I’d never had—oh, holy hell.

  He grabbed one hip and used the other hand to press against my lower back until I was arched, my ass high in the air.

  Then his mouth descended and my mind went blank. I didn’t care how I was positioned, how I looked, what noises I might be making. The only thing I cared about was the mouth between my legs, licking and sucking at my skin.

  I came like that, my legs shaking so badly that Will kept a hold of me as he stood back up.

  He spun me around and kissed me hard, his hands on each side of my jaw like he was afraid I’d turn my head away.

  I stumbled as he pulled me away from the wall, but he didn’t go far. He fell to the edge of my bed, and tore his mouth from mine, our harsh breathing the only sound in the room.

  Groaning, Will planted his face between my breasts, his hands lifting them as he took one and then the other into his mouth, sucking hard then biting my nipples.

  My hands were frantic, running over every part of him I could reach. They slid over his shoulders and biceps, down the groove of his spine and back up the thick muscles on either side. His skin was smooth except for random scars I found with my fingertips.

  “Turn around,” he ordered, twisting my hips until his face was once again pressing against my back.

  He pulled me down, pausing for only a second to situate my legs on either side of his before I felt him, pressing insistently until he slid inside me. My skin broke out in goose bumps and I shivered as he pushed harder, my body stretching until my ass was pressed tightly against his groin.

  Bracing my hands on his knees, I let my head drop forward as I sucked in a lungful of air. Sex wasn’t supposed to be that good. It wasn’t supposed to be so addictive that you were willing to do anything to get it—but that’s what it felt like then. I couldn’t imagine him anywhere else but inside me, and I couldn’t imagine a day when I’d ever turn him away.

  I rolled my hips, my thighs burning.

  “Not this time,” Will rasped, his hands leaving my waist to slide down my hips and over my thighs. “Fuckin’ bounce, Molly.”

  One finger hit my clit, circling softly as I followed his instructions and raised my body, dropping back down hard. I did it again and again, and each time, his dick slid over a spot that had my eyes watering. The pressure was insane, almost too much, but I couldn’t stop—even when my legs felt like they were going to give out.

  My hair grew damp with sweat as Will murmured filthy things in my ear, urging me to keep going, telling me how good I felt.

  My legs were on fire and I was ready to scream in frustration, when suddenly Will was pushing my body up and twisting us toward the bed. I landed face down on the mattress with my feet still braced on the floor, and without pausing, Will snapped his hips forward.

  “Oh, shit,” I groaned, using one hand to brace myself against the bed as I reached out with the other to grab his thigh. It was slick with sweat, the muscles there bunching as he thrust.

  I was so close to orgasm, I was holding my breath. Within a minute, I was gasping and holding back a scream as it washed over me. I felt it from my scalp to my toes, and for a few seconds, it was almost painful.

  “Jesus Christ,” Will groaned in pleasure as he continued to thrust. “You fuckin’ soaked me.”

  He pulled out abruptly, and I could hear him snap off the condom as he dropped to his knees and pressed his tongue to my overly sensitive flesh. The quiet sounds of his fist sliding over his dick filled the room as I mewed quietly against my comforter, too exhausted to even try to move as his tongue swept over me softly.

  He came with a curse against my skin and I grinned.

  He sounded as wrecked as I felt.

  “I just came all over my hand,” he grumbled, making me giggle deliriously. “Be right back.”

  I crawled up the bed as soon as he’d left the room and flopped down against my pillow, my eyelids heavy.

  What was I doing?

  Could I really ignore the problems that were staring me in the face? I liked Will, but sometimes his comments made me wonder if I even really knew him. His dad was . . . ugh. I really didn’t like that guy. Sure, he’d been sweet to his wife, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it? There was still something about him that set me on edge, something just below the surface that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  I knew he was part of the Aces and Eights Motorcycle Club, and that he worked at their garage as a mechanic, just like Will. But what else did he do? Did he drag Will into their illegal stuff? My stomach rolled at the thought.

  “Here, sugar,” Will said softly as he came back into my room. “Let me clean you up.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed and parted my legs, using a warm washcloth to wipe gently at my thighs and pussy. Then he was gone again, taking the wash
cloth back into the bathroom.

  Will turned off the light and cracked open my bedroom door as he came back in the room, then crawled into bed beside me.

  “Okay?” he asked, pulling me into his side.

  “Okay,” I whispered back as he kissed my forehead.

  All doubts left me as he tucked the comforter around my bare shoulder, making sure none of the cool air could seep in around it.

  Chapter 8

  Will

  “I fuck up your luck with that girl?” my dad asked a week after Molly, Rebel and I’d had dinner at his house.

  “Her name’s Molly,” I mumbled, following him in to the room behind the bar where the club held meetings. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but they’d woken me up at the ass crack of dawn and forced me out of Molly’s bed on her day off, so I wasn’t real excited about it.

  Rebel had been waking Molly up like four times a night for the past week—for no reason. Her little ass would just wake up, bang on the side of her crib with her feet, and then fall back asleep after Molly sang to her. It was cute the first night, but after that, Molly had started looking more and more worn down every day. She was falling asleep most nights as soon as Reb did, and was barely able to get up for work the next morning.

  “She didn’t seem to like me much,” Dad said with a chuckle.

  “She’s fine,” I replied dismissively, grabbing my chair and settling in.

  “You still seeing the suit’s daughter?” our president, Dragon, asked as he came in the room behind us. “Not gonna end well.”

  “Not gonna end at all,” I shot back.

  “We’ll see.”

  I ground my teeth together and dug my fingers into my eye sockets. My eyes were fucking burning. I’d been spending my nights with Molly, which meant I’d been waking up every time she did—and it was catching up to me. It was probably time I slept in my own bed so I could get a solid night’s sleep, but even the thought of it made me feel like an asshole. It wasn’t like Reb would stay asleep if I wasn’t there. I’d be sleeping good while Molly was still waking up all night—that didn’t work for me.

  As soon as everyone had found their places at the table, Dragon sat back in his chair and glanced around the room.

  “Russians have been making some noise,” he announced, making the rest of us sit up straighter in our chairs. “Nothin’ definitive yet.”

  “This about Rocky?”

  “Of-fuckin’-course it is.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Only good Russian is a dead one.”

  Dragon raised his hand and the table grew silent.

  “The suit’s been talkin’ with the DA in Boise, and they’re pretty sure that they can cut Rock a deal if he rolls on the Russians.”

  “Oh, fuck no,” Cam said from across the table. “We don’t rat.”

  “He’s not gonna talk, not about club business,” Dragon replied, leaning forward. “But Rock’s married to one of their daughters . . .”

  About six months before, Rocky had gone to a meet with some Russians who were interested in creating a partnership with the Aces—our contacts for a cut of their sales. At first, we’d thought it was bullshit, so we’d sent in Rock, who already knew the assholes, to get the lay of the land.

  It wasn’t real clear what had gone down, but Rock had ended up surrounded by DEA and FBI. They’d been watching the Russians for a while and had been under the impression that they’d finally hit pay dirt when an Ace rolled up.

  Thankfully, Rock had had a reason for being there. One of the guys they’d sent to meet him was his wife’s cousin. Didn’t matter if he hadn’t seen the bitch in over a year—the excuse still worked.

  It all went to shit, though, when they searched Rock’s bike and found a good amount of weed and the parts to an unregistered AK. The crazy fucker could build the thing in less than a minute, so he always carted it around.

  Brothers went down all the fucking time for different shit. We got caught up for parole violations, possession, gun charges—you name it, they picked us up for it. And most times, we kept our mouths shut and did the time.

  But Rocky had been picked up in Idaho, where he was from. Where he’d grown up. And in Idaho, the skinheads had it out for Rock because of some shit that had gone down when he was locked up the first time. He’d had the backing of the Russians that time—but that was gone since he’d aligned himself with us. We had no connections in the Idaho state pen, no way to protect him from the fuckers. If Rock went in, he wasn’t coming out.

  “So, what?” I asked, meeting Dragon’s eyes. “What’s he gotta give them?”

  “Just names,” Dragon answered.

  “The fuck?” Cam asked.

  “People at his wedding.” Dragon smiled. “That’s all they want.”

  A knock at the door had us all turning that way, then Rocky was poking his head in.

  “Come on in, Rock,” my dad called out. “Talkin’ about you, anyway.”

  Rocky slid in the door and closed it behind him, leaning against the wall since he didn’t rank a seat at the table. I wondered how long that would last. Rocky was a good guy, I’d trust him at my back any day.

  “You had to fuckin’ marry a Russian,” old Samson called from down the table, shaking his head as Rocky smirked.

  “First girl to let me fuck her ass,” Rocky called out. “Thought it was love.”

  The table roared with laughter.

  “You good with givin’ ’em names?” Dragon asked, cutting through the laughter.

  “It’s that or I’m a dead man,” Rock replied quietly.

  “You know why they want to know who was at your wedding?”

  “Got a good idea.”

  Dragon stared at him for a minute, then nodded his head once. “Start walkin’ down memory lane, Rock. You’ve got some time to get that shit sent over—but not a lot of it. Don’t talk to anyone but Duncan—he’s your contact. Anyone from the DEA tries to chat you up, walk the fuck away.”

  “Will do,” Rocky murmured, lifting his chin at the men around the table before turning toward the door and letting himself out.

  “Not gonna end well,” my dad said after the door had closed.

  “We’ll make it end well,” Dragon answered, something passing between him and my dad as they made eye contact.

  “Now that that shit’s over, I wanna know about Moose’s new woman,” Cam joked, lightening the mood at the table.

  “Shut the fuck up.” I flipped him off as he grinned.

  “She’s cute—timid as a rabbit, though,” my dad said with a smile, relaxing into his chair.

  “Not up for discussion,” I ground out.

  “If she lets you fuck her ass, that doesn’t mean it’s love,” Samson called, making the boys chuckle.

  “No way in hell is my boy getting that,” my dad choked out, laughing his ass off. “That girl is sweet as sugar.”

  The muscles in my arms and back locked as I tried to calm my shit. They were just messing with me. They always fucking messed with me. If I let on that it bothered me, it would make them worse.

  “I don’t know, man,” Cam said, laughing. “Homer said she seemed up for anything—”

  “Enough,” I roared, flying out of my seat. My skin felt too tight for my body. I wanted to hop over the table and beat the words out of Cam’s mouth.

  “Calm down, son,” my dad growled.

  “You let some fuck talk about Mom like that?” I asked, knowing the answer.

  “Just givin’ you shit, Moose,” Dragon said calmly, looking bored with the whole thing.

  His words made me even angrier. I fucking hated when they acted like I was a kid. Like I overreacted to shit. Yeah, I’d fucked up before, screwing around with steroids that made me fucking crazy. Everyone knew it. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t a brother just like the rest of them. I’d paid my dues for my fuckups. I pulled my goddamn weight. I took the fall when I had to, did the runs no one wanted, and I was a fucking genius
of a mechanic.

  “We done?” I asked, refusing to sit back down.

  Dragon stared at me for a full minute, probably to remind me who the fuck was in charge, then lifted his hand and slammed the gavel down.

  I was out the door before anyone else had even risen from the table.

  “Moose, man, wait up,” Cam called behind me as I stormed completely out of the clubhouse. “We were just givin’ you shit.”

  They were. I knew that. It still made my skin crawl.

  “Fuck man, we’ve fucked with you worse than that before.”

  “If someone said that shit about Trix, you’d lose it,” I pointed out, coming to a stop.

  “Different and you know it,” Cam mumbled.

  “Not really.”

  “You that far gone?”

  “Pretty much.” I gripped the back of my neck in frustration.

  Things were fine with Molly. Good. But the woman had fucking blinders on, and I knew the moment they came off, I was going to be in a whole heap of shit. After she’d freaked out about my dad, I was dreading the day I that had to pull her farther in to the life. And it would happen. At some point, we’d be at that place where she needed to know shit, and the minute she did, she was going to bail and I wouldn’t be able to protect her.

  I knew it, yet that didn’t keep me from stopping by her house every fucking night.

  “Make the announcement, then,” Cam said, getting my attention again. “Bring her around.”

  “Won’t work,” I replied, shaking my head.

  “Boys’ll lay off, man. You know they will.”

  “Molly’s fuckin’ clueless,” I informed him, watching his face drop in shock. “Her dad must’ve fuckin’ sheltered her from shit, because she’s got no fuckin’ clue.”

  “Duncan’s kid? Seriously?”

  “She’s afraid of my dad. Thinks I’m different.”

  Cam laughed incredulously. “You need to work that shit out.”

  “I know that.”

  “Cut her loose,” Cam said seriously. “Will, she’s that fuckin’ clueless, she could cause major fuckin’ problems.”

  “Fuck that.” I walked toward my bike and pulled my helmet off the gas tank.