Page 24 of Moonlit Kisses

Music is coming from the bedroom, so I make my way to the doorway. The sight that greets me almost has me swallowing my tongue. She’s making the bed, but while she’s doing it, she’s performing the actions of Salt ’n’ Pepper’sPush it. Her ass, wrapped in skintight jeans, thrusting in time to the music, waking up my cock. Adjusting my jeans to make more space, I try to distract my thoughts to calm myself down. I don’t need my employee to turn around and find me with a damn pole in my pants. Once I’m under control, I knock on the doorjamb.

“Hey.” She spins around, holding her chest, her eyes wide in alarm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I gesture over my shoulder. “The door was open, and I wanted to check if you needed any help.”

She catches her breath and giggles. “Sorry. I was in my own world.” She waves her arm out around the bedroom. “What do ya think?”

It’s pretty sparse, but she’s full of pride as she waits for my response. “It looks great. This room’s never had a feminine touch.”

“I love it so much.” She’s beaming. “Oh shit! What’s the time?” She snatches up her phone. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I need to go.” She moves around the room on a mission as though I’m not even standing in the doorway.

She grabs a shirt out of the closet, pulls her t-shirt over her head and my eyes lock on her tits, encased in a simple white t-shirt bra, like they’re a heat-seeking missile. There’s nothing sexy about it, and she’s not even aware that she’s exposed herself in front of me in her panic. As she pulls the fresh shirt over her head, her tits jiggle and my dick decides it likes the view, working its way to the waistband of my jeans. As her head pops through the top, her eyes connect with mine and widen. “Shit! Sorry.” She quickly works the shirt down her body, sadly hiding herself from me. Her cheeks flush prettily as she collects her phone and slides her feet into her shoes.

“I’m not.” I raise my eyebrows and lift one side of my lips, tucking my hands in the pockets of my jeans, attempting to disguise my hard-on.

She playfully hits my chest as she passes through the doorway. “Sorry. I need to get moving. I don’t want to be late.”

“Where are you headed tonight?” I’ve had this unexpected surge of irrational jealousy every time I thought about where she might be going tonight. Is she seeing someone?

Is it my fucking business?

No.

But did that stop me from ruminating over it all afternoon?

Also no.

She checks the outer door’s locked and then makes her way to the internal door, waiting for me to follow. “I, uh, signed up to volunteer a couple of nights a week. Even though it’s not paid work, I like to be professional. You know? Which means I don’t want to be late.” She widens her eyes, raises one eyebrow, and tilts her head toward the door, hinting that she wants to get going. “I really need to get moving.”

I finally take the hint and step outside so she can lock up. “Sure. Sorry. Are you going to be okay getting back in tonight? Remember, you need to come in through the outer door.” I point to the opposite side of the apartment.

We make our way down the stairs. Molly’s almost running. “Yeah, no problem. See you tomorrow!” She waves over her shoulder, and I’m left admiring her ass as she climbs into her car.

CHAPTER12

–molly–

My legs are burninglike crazy. It’s been ages since I’ve run and my muscles are reminding me of my laziness. The streets around here aren’t all that flat either, adding to my misery.

I suck in lungfuls of air and remind myself that I love to run. It’s the thing I love to do to start my day. It settles my mind and helps me to sleep better at night. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since the night of the accident. More nights than not, I wake with images I never saw stuck in my head and it takes ages to find sleep again.

Finally, the workshop comes into view, and I slow my pace until I’m out front. Walking in circles, my chest burns as my lungs attempt to get enough air. Bending at the waist, allowing my hands to drop to my toes, I slowly grasp my ankles, gently stretching my hamstrings, careful not to go overboard on my first day back. Now that I have a proper place to live, I can get back into my usual routine of running every day. The prospect is exciting—how sad is that?I work through my cool down sequence, then climb the outside steps to my apartment.

A smile touches my lips at having my own space. No neighbors making obscene noises or listening to other people’s arguments through the paper-thin walls. Mom would be happy with the way things are working out for me. My smile falls as thoughts of her drift through my head.

I miss her.

I miss my brother, Ethan.

I miss Jack.

Looking down at my feet as I breach the last step, I wipe the escaping tears from my cheeks and softly smile at my bright pink runners. My last birthday present from my family. Perhaps I should pack them away for safekeeping?

Mom, Jack, and Ethan were so impatient with me as I slowly and carefully unwrapped the box. The sparkly purple paper was far too pretty to tear, and I wanted to save it to cover my newest sketch pad.

“C’mon, Molly. Just rip it for goodness’ sake. It’ll be your next birthday by the time you open your present,” Mom coaxed.

A chuckle escapes at the memory. Jack was incredibly proud of the research he’d done to find the perfect running shoe for me. They were secondhand, but you’d never have known. They were like brand freaking new! I put them on straight away and went for a run with Jack and E. When we got back to the trailer, Mom had a birthday cake sitting on the table, decorated with twenty-six candles.

Unlocking the door, I step inside and toe off my favorite running shoes. Should I pack them away so I can keep them forever? Or should I use them the way my family intended? I ponder the thought as I strip down and head for the shower.

---