Page 111 of Cash

I should’ve known Mollie doesn’t play. She turns back to my dick and swallows me deep, so deep that I’m in her throat, and I thrust my hips. She gags, but doesn’t stop.

Her willingness to approach the point of pain.

Her adventurousness.

Her magic fucking tongue.

It all does me in. My balls contract, and heat streaks through my dick. Mollie moans when my cum hits her mouth.

And, Christ, do I come. You’d think I hadn’t orgasmed in years for how long and hard I come. The release pounds through me, drawing a shout from my lips. My stomach caves, knees go numb.

I fucking love every second of it.

“Show me how good you can swallow it,” I manage. “Every last drop, Mollie. Don’t you fucking stop.”

I have no idea how I manage to keep us on the road, but we’re still safe and sound when Mollie straightens. Licks her lips.

“Did my swallowing meet your standards?”

I can’t breathe.

Can’t think.

I just grab her neck and pull her in for a kiss. One eye on the road the whole time.

“Yeah, honey. You’re…really fucking good at that.”

She grins. “Thank you.”

She tries to scoot back to the passenger side, but I grab her knee. “Nope. You’re stayin’ right there. Need anything at the New House?”

Mollie blinks. “What? Why?”

“You think after you gave me head like that, I’m lettin’ you outta my sight? You’re sleeping at the cabin tonight.”

She blinks again, a small smile curling at the edges of her lips. “Yessir.”

I groan.

“You really do like that, don’t you?” she asks. “Being calledsir.”

“When you do it, yeah.”

“Noted.”

Her doing the things I like on purpose—her noticing mylikes and dislikes, wanting to please me—it makes my chest swell.

I wanna please her too.

Ilikethis girl. This ain’t gonna be some stupid half-in, half-out hookup. Not for me.

Her saying that mean this’ll be the kind of sex that sticks for her too?

I turn into the ranch. The breeze blows through the window, sending Mollie’s ponytail flying. She reaches for the knob on the stereo and turns up the radio. Trisha Yearwood now.

Mollie sings along. And seeing her smile, close her eyes, and lose herself in one of my favorite songs, I feel short of breath. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip after the chorus ends and shimmies her hips in time to the beat. Her long, bare legs seem to go on forever in the dark.

I grab one, curling my hand around her thigh. She cuts me a look, and I move my hand up, slipping my last two fingers underneath her skirt.