Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Only had to make sense to him,” Mollie replies slowly. “There’s a certain kind of integrity in that. I’m taking notes.”
“Of course you are,” I sputter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Means I like you. More than I should.
“Nothing.” I spear a hand through my hair. I need another beer.
The quiet sound of moving water fills the silence. I’m seized by the image of Mollie sinking deeper into my tub. She’s relaxed, hair in a knot at the top of her head. Her tits are round and perfect, pink nipples breaking the surface of the water. Cheeks and chest flushed the same shade of pink. And her pussy—with her legs spread, it’d be spread too—
“Hey, Cash?”
I clear my throat for the hundredth time. “Yeah?”
“The water is getting cold. I think I’m ready to get out. Could I ask a favor, though? My clothes are disgusting. Any chance I could borrow something? Just to wear back to the house? I’ll wash it and give it back to you as soon as I’m done.”
Dear. God.
Jesus Lord and savior, why you gotta test me like this? Mollie, in my shirt? What if she doesn’t wear a bra under it?
What if she doesn’t wear panties? What I’d give to slide a hand up her bare leg. I’d use my fingers to part her. Stroke her, gathering wetness on my fingertip so I could circle her clit. Mollie, being Mollie, wouldn’t be shy about showing her pleasure. She’d moan, hand fisting in my shirt to pull me closer.
“Don’t fuck with me, Cash,” she’d breathe. “Give me more.”
I shove up to standing, willing the image to disappear. “Course. Gimme a minute.”
“Take your time.”
Only the image doesn’t disappear.
The longer it stays, the more I’m not sure I want it to go anywhere. Same way I feel about Mollie.
CHAPTER 19
Mollie
BACKSLIDING
Cash is weirdly quiet on the drive home.
And I am weirdly turned on wearing his green Hatton’s Tractor Supply & More T-shirt and a pair of red basketball shorts.
They’re old clothes. Soft and nubby from countless days in the sun, countless cycles through the washing machine. But wearing them still gives me a sense of intimacy with Cash that’s at odds with our budding friendship.
Can I even call it that? We’re coworkers, technically. But after everything we just shared—after he scooped me up, carried me to his house, and ran me a bath, complete with an absurd amount of Epsom salt in it—I’m not sure where we stand.
More than coworkers, less than friends?
More than friends, less than…what?
Is he weirded out by the intense conversation we had through his bathroom door? Even now, my stomach flips at the thought that he stayed. Not only that, but he sat outside the door and made sure I was okay.
I cried, and I think he cried, too, and I’m so overwhelmed that he opened up to me that my heart won’t quit pinging around my chest like a pinball.
Glancing at him, I take in his handsome profile. He ditched his cowboy hat and is wearing the backward baseball cap again. His scruff is darker and thicker than it was this morning.
A wave of desire hits me, hard, landing in the backs of my knees with this hot, tingly rush that makes me want to giggle and scream all at once. I hold the handle on the ATV’s frame in a death grip.
My heart takes a nosedive when the New House comes into view. I’m not ready for whatever this is to end.
Guess there’s no use fighting these feelings anymore. They’re clearly here to stay. I just can’t act on them.
I unbuckle my seat belt when Cash parks at the back door. “Thanks for the therapy session. And the tub.”
“Feel any better?”
“I do, yeah.”
Our eyes meet. The air between us vibrates.
Kiss me, you stupid bastard.
I want him to kiss me more than I’ve wanted something in a long, long time.
Scratch that. I wanted him to join me in the tub even more. I kept thinking about how hot it would be, literally and figuratively, if Cash slipped in behind me. Cradled me between those big thighs and then reached between mine.
“Well…” His Adam’s apple bobs.
I lick my lips, laughing nervously. “I’ll get these clothes back to you.”
“Keep ’em.” His eyes flick over me, one side of his mouth tipping up. “They look good on you.”
“Fishing for compliments now?” I grin. “Waiting for me to say they look better on you?”
He splays the hand he’s got on top of the wheel. “Well, yeah.”
You’re hot as fuck, and you know it. I don’t need to tell you that.
“Keep dreaming, cowboy.”
He laughs. “Get some rest. And keep taking that Advil.”
“Yessir.”
His eyes flash. “I like it when you call me sir.”
Must.
Get.
Inside.
Immediately. Or I’ll combust. Or do something really stupid and lean in and kiss him myself.
“Don’t get used to it.” I sniff, and then I make a mad dash for the house.