Page 77 of The County Line
“Colt was always a good boy,” my dad says, beaming at me as if he doesn’t have a clue the bad thoughts that are running through my mind right now and how I’ve been twisting Molly up like a pretzel every night. My hand trails upward to the tiny cotton shorts that Molly’s wearing.
“Yes, well, as we all know, what happened wasn’t his fault,” she continues.
Perfect gentleman.
I squeeze the inside of her bare thigh again, causing her to let out a soft gasp. Her eyes quickly drop to the food on her plate where she begins cutting into furiously.
“This is delicious,” she says trying to change the subject as she stuffs her mouth.
“So, today’s the big day, huh? His last parole check-in? Is that what this dinner’s for?” Regan asks, her curious gaze flicking between Molly and me.
Molly, clearly caught off guard, shoves a forkful of the meat back into her mouth, conveniently making it impossible for her to respond. What she doesn’t realize is that her silence gives me the upper hand. My fingers are already toying with the waistband of her shorts beneath the table, slipping just inside the fabric to rest against the warm skin right above her pussy.
“Yeah,” I reply casually, my voice steady despite the fact that I’m anything but, “Thought it’d be nice to make it more personal. Like old times, you know? Family dinner and all.”
Regan raises an eyebrow, still watching us intently, but I don’t flinch. Molly, on the other hand, picks up her glass of wine and takes another long, deliberate sip, probably hoping no one notices the flush that’s creeping up her neck to her cheeks.
The moment she swallows, I take it further. My fingers brush across her slit, right over the top of her opening and then I roughly push two inside. Her pussy clenches around me as she lets out a soft gasp and nearly chokes again.
Chapter 34 - Colt
Molly recovers quickly, pretending the wine went down wrong again. My dad’s talking about something to do with Troy, politics, and the corrupt ex-sheriff in our town who conveniently retired right before I was released. My movements are slow, deliberate, my palm rubbing into her clit in just the right rhythm to keep her composure fraying as I edge her.
But under the table, it’s a battle of wills. She squeezes her thighs together, trying to keep my hand from moving but I just work her harder. What Molly doesn’t realize is that I don’t mind multitasking—talking to my family while taking care of her is a skill I’m more than happy to master. And judging by the way her free hand grips the edge of the table, her body trembling just slightly as I push her closer to the edge, she’s enjoying the lesson too.
“And are you enjoying being a parole officer? That’s quite a different pace from the police department?” my dad asks, not realizing that Molly is clearly struggling and looking for a way out.
She swallows and nods her head, plastering the most convincing smile across her face but I see through it, I want to watch her squirm. I pet her clit reverently with my thumb as I pick up my movements.
“Yes, it’s been a great learning experience…” I try to get a third finger inside of her and feel her thighs shake. “And um… very eye opening.” She’s stumbling now, I know I should throw her a bone, but I refuse to. I want to feel that sweet heat and the contractions all over my fingers. I’m hard under the table, too. If she just reached out and rubbed me once, I think I might bust all over the underside of the table.
“Speaking of you know I think we should finish this session back at your house?” she says, shooting daggers with her eyes as I continue to pump into her, my poker face has been refined though and I’m staring at her so blankly, anyone watching us wouldn’t have a clue what’s going on.
“If that’s what you wish. You’re the boss. At least, until today is done,” I say, dropping my voice. Her eyes widen as the rest of the table stares at us silently, observing our private moment and probably wondering what the hell we’re talking about. I remove my fingers from her slit and pinch her clit as she lets out an audible gasp.
“Weird energy in here,” Georgia murmurs, her eyes darting between Cash, who’s doubled over laughing now, and Molly, whose cheeks are a deep, undeniable pink as she bolts to her feet.
“Colton Marshall, a word.Now!” she says, her voice louder than necessary. My dad’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and the corners of Regan’s mouth quirk upward like she’s piecing it all together.
“Oh, I see it now!” Regan exclaims, clapping her hands together in delight. “This is so great! My twin brother and my best friend!” She squeals like a kid on Christmas morning. “Iknewthis might happen one day!”
Molly’s face turns an even brighter shade of red. She doesn’t say a word, but the look she shoots me is part panic, part exasperation. I might not have disclosed information outright, but clearly, our secret is out. And frankly, I’m tired of hiding what we have. What we’ll always have.
I adjust myself in my seat, careful to tuck my cock down as well as I can in my pant leg, stand, and step toward her, leaning close enough to growl low in her ear. “Let me go finish you, baby.”
Without giving her a chance to argue, I take her hand and lead her toward the door.
“Thanks for dinner, Marshall family!” Molly calls over her shoulder, her voice pitched higher than usual. Laughter erupts behind us, but I don’t stop. By the time we hit the truck, she’s tugging on my arm, half-scolding, half-laughing.
“Colt!” she protests as I lift her effortlessly into the passenger seat like some caveman. Her cheeks are still flushed, but now she’s grinning as she shakes her head. “Wecould’vejust told them, you know?”
“I wasn’t sure you were ready,” I admit, climbing into the driver’s seat and meeting her gaze head-on.
She bites down on her bottom lip, that telltale spark in her eyes making my chest feel ten sizes too big.
“You’re right,” she says, her voice soft and teasing. “Guess it’s better this way. Rip the Band-Aid off.”
I smirk as I start the truck, reaching over to slide my hand onto her thigh. “They’ll get over it. But I’m not sure I ever will. Seeingyou flustered like that?” My thumb strokes her skin, my voice dropping a little. “It’s a damn good look on you.”
