Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bobby
I’m nervous. Not because my dumbass brother was here. Not because our dates haven’t gotten better every single day this week—they most definitely have. I’m nervous because I want more, and I brought Molly back here to try to get her to agree to being official. I feel like I’m sixteen again, trying to ask a girl to be my girlfriend.
“Okay, so hear me out.”
Molly groans and pulls her head off my chest. She tips her head back with a pout and her red painted lips look so kissable I want to forget about everything I was about to say and just take her straight to my bed. And because I have the attention span of a gnat and the libido of a bull, I do. I dip my head, nibble on her mouth, and sweep her up into my arms to stalk into my bedroom. The lights are off and not even the half-moon shining through the windows can illuminate enough for my preferences. I refuse to not see her beautiful body while I strip her naked. Why deny myself that pleasure?
Laying her on the bed, I pause to light two candles I had in my room mostly for hurricane season in case the building lost power. After several sleepovers at her place, she’s finally stopped fighting me on the lights, but I also figure candlelight might be a nice compromise to make her more comfortable.
“Hey. Is that my perfume?”
My head whips up to see the incriminating bottle still on my nightstand. Shit. I really should have returned that to her.
“Umm. Yeah. You left it in Wolverine that first day.” I try to brush it off and distract her by prying the heels off her feet and tossing them over my shoulder.
Molly pins me with a pointed look, one eyebrow hitched higher than the other. “Have you been sniffing my perfume, Robert?”
“Oh fuck,” I whine. “You can’t call me Robert and not expect me to tell you all my secrets. Yes, I sniffed your perfume and even whacked off to it one time. Just once, I swear. I want you, Molly. Have wanted you. Happy now?”
“Yes, actually,” she answers softly. She positions herself up on her elbows and nods toward me with a silent request. I quickly divest myself of the polo and slacks. When I’m down to the latest funderpants that I bought with her in mind–floating black stilettos on a bright pink background–she tosses her head back and laughs, exposing the long column of her throat. Fuck, she’s sexy as hell without even trying.
“See? It’s fun to watch, isn’t it?” I tease her, wanting to see that blush on her face. After shoving the funderpants down my legs, I grab the base of my already hard cock and get my wish.
“When the naked specimen is that nice, yes.”
I crawl over her body and she flattens to the mattress below me. My dick bops her on the chin. It’s hilarious to watch her try to decide whether she should look me in the eye like a proper good girl or watch my dick like she wants to.
“See that evidence, Molly?” I point at the erection that’s lengthening even more under her scrutiny, like it’s trying to reach her mouth. “Believe me when I say the naked specimen I get to watch is even nicer.”
She drags her wide-eyed gaze back to my face. “Can I try something?”
“Baby, you can do anything you want.” And I mean it. Watching Molly’s sexual confidence grow in just the last week has been fascinating to witness. I really don’t think she was ever sexually satisfied in her previous relationships. Which means I have plans to fulfill every fantasy she never knew she had.
She lifts up and strips her blouse over her head, quickly unlocking the front clasp of her bra and peeling that off too. Her gorgeous boobs tumble out, more than a handful each. She cups her own breasts together and looks up at me. “Fuck my tits, please.”
If I’d been any younger, I would have come on the spot. The visual of Molly’s breasts served up on a platter for me, her request to fuck her, even the use of that language from her proper mouth. Damn. This is why I like older women: confidence that grows by leaps and bounds.
I grit my teeth hard to hold myself back. “Give it a little lube, baby.”
Molly lifts her head and takes my cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip before taking me deeper. I groan and try to recall some of my stats just to keep my brain busy. When my cock is nice and wet and I just might explode, I pull out of her mouth and slide between the softest pillows known to man. Molly watches intently, licking her lips.
“I’m...” I grunt, that familiar tingle starting in my lower spine way sooner than I want it to. “Not gonna last.”
Molly nods and lifts her head again, this time to lave the crown of my dick with her tongue every time I thrust through her breasts. The feeling is insane, soft and enveloping on the shaft, wet and warm on the tip.
With another thrust, I grip the headboard like I just might break it in two, spilling into her mouth as she opens wide and swallows me down. The orgasm keeps coming, the visual below me too compelling. Holy fuck, I’m going to store this away in my spank bank for future viewing when Molly’s not here to give me the real thing.
I fall onto the bed beside her, lungs heaving. When I’m able to pry a single eye open, I realize I didn't even get her fully naked. “Give me a second. I promise I won’t leave you hanging.”
Molly snuggles into my side, her bare foot rubbing up and down my calf. “It’s fine. We can just sleep.”
I frown at my ceiling. Does she not know me at all? I roll on top of her with a growl, pinning her wrists to the mattress above her head.
“Sleep? Oh, you wanted to sleep tonight? Our last night together before you're back home with Matthew and you think I’m going to let you sleep? Baby, I’m just getting started.” I laugh like I’m a bit demented and fuck, maybe I am. I’m obsessed with this woman. Which reminds me.
Rolling right off her after threatening her with sleep deprivation, I grab the flat box off the dresser and return to bed. “I have something for you first. Then I’ll debauch you. Wait, is debauch a verb?”
Molly huffs out an amused laugh and sits up, her arm immediately coming up to cover her breasts. I bat her arm away and she bats me right back. I win the tussle though, because she doesn’t cover her breasts this time, just points to the box in her lap. “What is this?”
“It’s a present for you. Open it.”
She gives me a look I ignore. I nudge the box closer, and she sighs, opening it. She pulls out familiar gold and black material, holding it up. “A Storm Chasers jersey?”
I take it from her and turn it around so she can see the back side, which has my last name emblazoned across it. “Not just any jersey. My jersey. It's for you to wear. I also have one for Matthew, along with tickets for tomorrow night’s game.” My heart beats erratically. It’s a fifty-fifty chance she turns me down and I probably should have warmed her up with an orgasm or two. “I know we haven’t discussed it, but I’d like to go public that we’re dating. And to do that, we need to tell Matthew first.”
Molly’s arms drop the jersey to her lap. Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is mussed. Those unique eyes are staring me down, trying to find answers to the thousand questions swirling in her brain.
“I can literally hear your thoughts spiraling,” I whisper. She nudges me with her foot.
“Being a good mom is the most important thing to me,” she starts. I know this, of course. You only have to talk to her for a few minutes to know that Matthew is her world, as he should be. It’s one of the things I like about her most. Only second to the pencil skirts. “He’s already acting erratically at school. I don’t want to endanger his stability.”
I nod. “I completely agree. But he’s also old enough he won’t appreciate us lying to him about our relationship.” I take her hands in mine, hoping she’ll see I’m not joking like I usually am. “I want to date you, Molly. I want to take you out on the town, to my games, to events where the other hockey players bring their wives and girlfriends. I want to have simple dinners at home with you and Matthew. I want to continue to help him at hockey practice. Let me be in this for the long haul.”
Molly’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, considering. I hold my breath.
“Long haul?” she finally asks, nose wrinkling.
“Wrong phrase.” I grab the jersey and the box and toss them both to the floor. “I’m into you, Molly Sparks. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to put my jersey on you, so all those other fuckers know you’re mine.”
Molly wraps her arms around my neck and we fall back on the bed. “There are no other fuckers.”
“Good!”
I seal our lips together and spend the rest of the night worshipping her body. Around three in the morning, when I wake up and see she’s staring at the ceiling, I shift until my head is between her legs. I lap at her, moaning as her taste blooms on my tongue. I get her right on the edge of yet another orgasm, but I don’t give it to her until she agrees to officially be mine.
“Blackmail,” she pants, arm flung over her eyes as she catches her breath.
I grin into the darkness and pull her into me, spooning her from behind. “Smart negotiation,” I correct her.
I run my fingers through her hair and freeze when some of it pulls away with my hand. I pop up onto my elbow and stare at a clump of hair I must have pulled from her scalp. It’s hard to see in the dark, but it doesn’t look like a small amount either. Surprise and horror have me gasping.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”
Molly’s eyes fling open. She snatches the clump of hair out of my hands lightning fast and tosses it to the ground. “It’s a hair piece!”
“A what piece?” I peer over the side of the bed, but Molly pulls me back.
“A thing women use to make their hair fuller looking. Don’t worry about it.”
I stare down at her, then shake my head slowly. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand women.”
Molly grabs my arm and wraps it around her, forcing me back into our spooning position. “I’m not sure I understand myself sometimes,” she sighs, then yawns.
Laying there in the dark, I let that sit with me for a bit. I’m not even sure if Molly’s still awake, but sometime later, I whisper into her hair. Or at least what I think is her hair, who the hell knows anymore? “You don’t need to do that shit for me. I love you just the way you are.”
I have exactly thirty minutes to be part of this conversation with Matthew. Molly and I planned to tell him after my practice and before the game. We both agreed to keep it casual and not make it a huge deal. We’re dating, not getting married.
Afterward, I have to get back to the arena and get ready for the game. Molly and Matthew will drive there on their own and find their seats. I bought the tickets right next to Kaitlyn’s normal seats. She told me she’d stay as long as she could to keep them company until Mei got sick of the loud noises. For the rest of the season, I’ll be sure to get them passes for the WAGs suite.
Running up the walkway, I don’t bother knocking. “Hey! Anybody home?” I call out as I stick my head inside Molly’s house. Stepping inside and glancing around, I studiously ignore the spot on the floor where we made love that first time. Stay focused, dickhead.
“Hey, Bobby,” Matthew calls back, appearing down the hallway and coming closer with a happy smile on his face. “Mom says we have tickets to the game tonight?”
We do a fist bump, handshake thing, and then I hand him the box with the other jersey. “Yeah, dude. Got great tickets and a jersey for you.”
Molly rushes down the hall, looking cute as a button in ripped jeans, Ugg boots, and my jersey on. I have to bite my lip to keep from leaning over and kissing her when she sidles up to Matthew to watch him open the gift.
“I get a jersey too?” he asks, ripping the box open and holding up the shirt. “Thanks, man!” He goes to dart back down the hallway to put it on, but Molly tugs him back.
“Hold up a second, Matthew. We wanted to talk to you real quick.”
Matthew’s eyes open wide, all that hockey game excitement gone. “I didn’t get in trouble today, I swear, Mom.”
Molly laughs, but I can tell she’s nervous. She refuses to look at me or step too close. “Actually, that’s not what this is about. Bobby and I wanted you to hear it first.” She pauses, swallows hard, then clears her throat.
Silence.
Oookay. She’s not good at this. I step closer to them both, slide my arm around Molly’s waist, and pull her into my side. She’s stiff as a board, so I take over. “What your mom is trying to say is that we’re dating.”
Matthew looks between us and then gives me a man-to-man head nod of approval. “Okay. It’s kind of sus, but then again, having my mom date a hockey player isn’t all bad.” Matthew leans in closer to me, his face a mask of seriousness. “Be nice to her though, or I’ll have to kick your ass.”
“Matthew!” Molly snaps, appalled.
Matthew steps back and grins. “What, Mom? Just tellin’ it like it is. It’s a guy thing. Right, Bobby?”
I nod, but pull my arm from Molly’s waist to step aside with Matthew. “Can you grab us some water, Molly?”
She huffs, but then decides to leave the room and give the two of us time to chat. I don’t take her trust around her son lightly. I round on Matthew, making sure I’m looking him straight in the eye.
“Hey, I’d never do anything to hurt your mom or you. If there’s ever a problem, a misunderstanding, or I step on your toes, I want you to know you can come to me. We’ll talk it out and make it right, okay?”
Matthew nods. “Okay.” We shake hands and then he tosses the jersey over his shoulder and backs down the hallway. “Wait ‘til I tell my friends. They’re gonna shit themselves.”
“Watch your language, Matthew Sparks!” Molly comes back in the room with two water bottles.
“Sorry, Mom!” His door slams shut, and Molly and I stare at each other.
“That went . . . well?” I say tentatively.
Molly nods, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. I reach up and pull her lip away, then dip my head to kiss her.
“It went great. Quit worrying.” I pull her into my arms and sway us side to side. When I feel her body start to relax in my arms, I whisper, “You look fucking hot in my jersey, baby. Can’t wait to fuck you while you wear it.”
“Bobby!” She slaps my chest, and I laugh, feeling like everything in my life is finally working out.