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)
Yeah, she’s a knockout, and she tells it like it is. And she didn’t quit on me the other day, despite the overwhelming experience of being back on her daddy’s ranch for the first time in decades.
But Mollie’s also greedy and stuck-up. And the shit she wears. Riding behind her, I could almost see down her purple shirt. The thing was this close to coming totally unbuttoned all the way to her navel, which allowed me a glimpse of the soft swell of her tits as she rolled her hips in time to mine.
I fist my dick in a tight grip and pull. Tell myself I’m only taking care of it because I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t.
Tell myself I’m only this hard, this needy, because it’s been too long since I got laid.
The whole thing is ugly and quick. Hard pulls. Images of Mollie bent over a fence. Bent over a chair. Bent over the edge of my bed. I fuck her with the greediness I saw in her the other day. But she takes it.
Lord, she takes. I’m shoving inside her mouth now. She plays with herself as she sucks my dick. I try to slap away her hand, but she ignores me, running the pads of her fingers over her clit again and again and again.
Her playfulness, her refusal to be pushed around, has me coming in hard, hot spurts into my hand.
I still can’t sleep. At three thirty, I shower. Pull on jeans and a shirt. A belt and Garrett’s boots.
I’ll always want to make him proud. Which means I gotta talk to Mollie. I can’t afford to get fired right now. And maybe…
I mean, what if Garrett wanted us to work together? I have no fucking idea why he’d want that, but I do know he was torn up about the mistakes he’d made with his daughter.
Even if he didn’t want Mollie and me working together—even if he did really just forget to update the will—I still have to iron this out.
And, yeah, maybe if I establish some kind of functional working relationship with Mollie, there’ll be rewards for my brothers and me down the road.
Maybe, if I play nice, she’ll eventually get bored and spend all her time making more sparkly cowboy boots, leaving the ranch to me and the boys. And Ella, of course.
A year is nothing.
I can do anything for a year. Keep four brothers and a niece alive. Tend to fifteen thousand head of cattle.
Surely, I can work with Mollie Luck without one or both of our lifeless bodies ending up in a ditch?
At four, I’m at the house. Through the open window above the sink, I can see Patsy is already in the kitchen, the velvety smell of coffee filling my head as I step up to the door.
I draw up short when I see Mollie standing at the stove.
Wait a second.
Wait.
She’s finally showing her face? What’s changed?
I’m shocked—relieved—to see her. I’m also shocked she’s up this early. But the most shocking thing of all? She appears to be actively helping Patsy cook breakfast, stirring something in a pan while our chef chops some veggies by the sink.
“I went on this stupid diet once where all I could have was egg whites, green peppers, and mezcal,” Mollie tells Patsy as she sips a mug of coffee. “Now I’m an expert at making omelets. And mezcal margaritas.”
Patsy laughs. “What kind of diet was that?”
“I get really bad stomachaches all the time. No one can really figure out what the problem is, so I’ve been put on all these different diets to see if anything makes me feel better.”
“Have you had any luck?”
Mollie shrugs. “Not yet.”
She gets stomachaches? Is that why she only ate green beans the other day?
Also, why the fuck do I care?
Sweet Jesus, why does she have to look so damn cute so early in the morning? My eyes rove up her legs and back. For the first time, she’s wearing something semi-normal: a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail.
She’s also wearing glasses. I step closer to the entrance and peer through the open screen door.
Fuck, since when am I attracted to girls who wear glasses?
“I’m so glad you decided to join us today,” Patsy says. “I hope you’re feeling better?”
Mollie is quiet for a beat. “I am. I think I needed a little time to…process. Work’s also been crazy, so that didn’t help. I’ve been chained to my laptop all day, every day.”
“But I hope exciting things are in store?”
Mollie smiles. “I hope so, yes. Would you like hot sauce on your omelet?”
City Girl is actually doing something nice for someone else? I’m confused.
Patsy slides a tray of sweet potato hash browns into the oven. “I’d love some, thanks. I keep it there in that cabinet to the right of the range. We go through it like you wouldn’t believe—the cowboys dowse everything in Texas Pete.”