Cash (Lucky River Ranch #1) Read Online Jessica Peterson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Lucky River Ranch Series by Jessica Peterson
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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Why not have a little fun?

Why not try something new, whether it’s road head or the idea of starting a life of my own?

I watch Mollie tuck stray strands of hair out of her face. Then she pulls my dick through the gap in my briefs. Gives me another tug, this one harder, faster, my whole body clenching.

She looks me in the eye. Smirks and says, “Eyes on the road. Don’t kill us.”

Goddamn, girl, you’re the one killing me.

One hand on the wheel, I put the other on the back of her head. “Little less talkin’, honey.”

“I hate being told what to do.”

“Then you’re gonna hate me.”

I push her head down, her shoulders shaking with laughter. I’m being lewd, obscene even, handling her this way. But Mollie doesn’t seem to mind. I see stars when she opens her mouth and licks my tip, lapping up my pre-cum with eager strokes of her tongue.

“Aw, honey,” I groan.

Thank God the road is empty. God bless Texas and her wide-open spaces.

Mollie sucks my head into her mouth. I slam the heel of my hand against the wheel.

She sucks harder. Takes me deeper.

My head falls back against the headrest as heat rips through my bloodstream. Heaviness gathers between my legs as Mollie bobs her head, her hand tugging my shaft in time to her movements.

“You suck my dick like you love it,” I breathe. “I love watchin’ you like this, honey. You’re beautiful. You’re fucking⁠—”

She takes me deep. My head hits the back of her throat, and my hips jerk.

“You got me so fucking keyed up. I’m not gonna last long. Look at me.”

But Mollie, being Mollie, doesn’t listen. She bobs up, down.

So I grab her chin. “Look at me.”

Her brown eyes gleam in the light of the dash when they meet mine. She turns her head a little so my dick slips out from between her lips. “You came in my mouth, I wanna come in yours. If that’s gonna be a problem, stop now.”

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 called sir.”

“When you do it, yeah.”

“Noted.”

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

I wanna please her too.

I like this 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.

Her bare pussy is soft to the touch. Her breath hitches. I hit the gas. We bump over the dirt road as Trisha sings.

Mollie says she needs to grab some contact solution at the New House. After making her promise not to grab anything else—specifically any extra clothes—I pull up to the front door. Long as she’s at my place, she’s either naked or wearing my shit.


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