Page 75 of His Sound
“What if what I want is Molly?”
He scoffs, but I continue.
“And what if what she wants is me? You don’t know anything about her.”
I can almost hear him raising his eyebrows. “And what doessheknow aboutyou? Have you told her about your...issue?”
“No,” I admit.
“Good,” he quips. “At least you remembered one thing I taught you. Now, back to the reason for this call. You’re free to do whatever it is you do in Montreal, but you’re in Trois-Rivières now, and you owe it to your family to respect their wishes. I’ll send you the details of where you’re supposed to meet Gabriel Laframboise’s daughter tonight. And Jean-Paul?”
I stay silent.
“You know I’ve always wanted what’s best for you,” he tells me. “I just wish you wanted that too.”
He ends the call. I pull the phone away from my ear, fighting the urge to smash it on the hallway floor. I fish my key card out of my pocket and fling the door to our room open. I need a scalding shower, or a boiling cup of coffee, or a—
Molly.
Hot fucking damn. Molly.
“Hey, handsome.”
She’s lying on her side across the bed, completely naked, all smooth skin and soft curves. My phone slips out of my hand and lands on the carpet.
I see the nervousness in her—the flush in her cheeks, the quick glance down at the floor—but she doesn’t back down.
“I know you were worried about spilling things...” She reaches behind her and lifts up the dish of maple syrup. “But I decidedI’mnot worried at all.”
Then she tilts the dish sideways until syrup drips all over her tits.
“Tabar-fucking-nak.”
No one can callmeout on a lack of bilingualism.
Every other thought in my head flies out the window. I’m leaning over her in a matter of seconds, trailing my tongue over the sticky sweet drops of syrup as she gasps and digs her hands into my hair. I suck on her nipple and then pinch it between my teeth, just hard enough to make her shudder.
“Give me that,” I growl, straightening up to take the syrup dish from her hand.
We both watch as I pour a thin trail between her breasts and down her stomach, stopping just shy of the little patch of hair between her legs.
She grins at me. “You gonna clean up your mess?”
“Avec plaisir.”
She moans and trembles as I take my time working my way down. The combination of the sugar and her skin is intoxicating, like top shelf liquor and a Michelin star dessert menu all rolled into one. I dip my tongue into her belly button and she giggles.
“You’ll get syrup on the bed,” I warn.
“If there isn’t syrup on the bed by the time we’re done here, then we’re doing this wrong,” she shoots back.
She’s feistier than I’ve ever seen her in bed before. When I finally get down on my knees and dip my tongue between her legs, she tugs my face closer, making me press myself as deep inside her as I can. I’m more than happy to oblige. She bucks her hips and calls my name, teasing her own nipples as I shift to slide a finger inside her and move my mouth up to her clit.
It’s only a few minutes before she comes with a spasm that rips through her whole body. The way she squeezes around my finger while she writhes on the mattress has me so hard it hurts. Her arms jerk, and one of her hands lands in the syrup bowl. We both break out into laughter.
I crawl my way up her naked body and take my time sucking each one of her sweet and dripping fingers.
“I want you inside me,” she whispers, staring at her pinkie between my lips like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. “Now.”
