Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(105)

Molly shook her head and passed by me, laughing. “She knows she can’t date until she’s sixteen, so relax, you have two years to prepare for the real thing.” She continued strutting into the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to add, “And two years to stock up on ‘Just For Men’, of course. You know, for all the premature gray hairs you’ll get.”

Flashing me a teasing smile, Molly quickly headed to the backyard—Oh, she’d done it now.

Running after my wife, I scooped her up in my arms, making her yelp out in surprise. I sat down on the secluded bench, way out of sight, laying her across my lap. Diving onto her soft lips, I fisted bunches of her long brown hair, and took what I wanted.

As always, she submitted to my demands.

We broke from the embrace several minutes later, both panting, and Molly squirmed against the hardness in my jeans.

“Mol…” I warned.

“Mm-hmm?” she answered innocently, a f*cking horny-as-hell twinkle in her golden-browns.

My jaw clenched as I fought my need, and I hissed through gritted teeth, “Don’t play with fire, Shakespeare. It’s too much for pretty little English girls to cope with.”

“What can I say…? I’m a risk taker.” She shrugged and smiled widely.

Mol watched as my lip twitched, and within seconds, the two of us burst into laughter and I gripped her tight around her neck, tucking my head into her hair.

When we had both calmed down, I lifted my head and said, “I can’t believe I said that to you back then. I was so f*cked up and full of my own shit.”

“Are you kidding me? You had me so pent up for you that I almost combusted on the spot! I could’ve stayed at that creek forever.”

I leaned in close and whispered seductively, “If I’m not mistaken, you did combust around three of my fingers shortly after.”

Slapping my chest playfully, Mol replied, “Yeah, and I tossed you off onto the grass!”

I froze at her comeback and practically dropped her to the floor, unable to contain my hysterical laughter. “Tossed me off?”

Molly pushed out her tongue and I slapped her tight ass. “How is it that even after living in the States for over twenty years, that accent of yours is still as thick as ever?”

“Says you! There’s no shaking that southern drawl out of you, is there?”

Oh, she was just asking for trouble.

Gripping her thighs, I pulled her to straddle my waist, making her moan as I instantly ground my cock against her core, my hands locked on her cheeks, and I hushed out, “I should take you to the old cabin and f*ck the living shit outta you for old time’s sake. There’s something in the Bama water that makes me want to own every f*ckin’ part of you, to fill every hole.”

“Well, I think the new owners might have something to say about that,” she muttered, trying to restrain herself from moaning out loud.

“I couldn’t give a shit about the new owners!” I said curtly, and my eyes closed when she began rocking back and forth against my dick.

“I’ll take you right here, Mol. Don’t think I won’t,” I threatened, this time without humor, as I dragged my teeth along my bottom lip, my hands dropping from Mol’s face to squeeze and nip at her breasts.

“It’s good that you still want me after all these years. Four kids aren’t exactly flattering on a woman’s body.”

I laid kisses along the side of her neck, licking and biting as I went. “Are you f*ckin’ kidding me? You’re so damn hot it’s unreal. Christ, I want you more now than ever.”

“Yeah, again, four kids kind of shows that! You’re insatiable, always have been.”

My eyebrows danced. “Wanna try for number five?”

I was deadly serious.

“Not a bloody chance!”

My break of laughter relaxed her. I knew she loved having kids, adored being a momma, but she kept telling me that three boys under the age of seven and a pubescent teenage girl was quite enough to deal with alongside being a full-time professor.

“Just so you know, though, I’m ready when you are. I want as many children as we can produce,” I said meaningfully. I loved having a huge family and would pop one out a year if I had my way. I loved being a daddy. It was the best damn thing in the world.

Those caramel eyes narrowed in jest. “You’re trying for your own football team, aren’t you?”

“Yep, and that’s a hell of a lotta kids. We need a strong offense, defense, oh, and the special teams of course…” Mol giggled and shut me up by smashing her lips against mine.

“Eww! That’s gross!” A high-pitched shriek stilled us both and we rolled our heads to the side, taking in the face of our disgusted, shocked daughter glaring at our compromising position.

If that Asher kid was back, I was gonna castrate the f*cker.

Immediately straightening her hair, Molly went to move off my lap, but I held on tightly to her waist, whispering in her ear, “Do not move unless you want to scar our girl for life.” I knew the moment she felt it, my hardness, and she couldn’t help but blush as she kept still, hiding my… umm… awkward situation.

“What do you need, honey?” Molly asked, feigning normalcy.

Taylor shook her head in horror, her attitude still in place from before. “I’ve been calling for you both, but you never heard me. Now I can see why!” Molly glanced down at me and we had to force ourselves not to laugh at our daughters reprimand.