Page 30 of Royce

I get those wrapped up, wipe down the counters and make sure she didn’t leave an oven on. As I’m eyeballing the room to make sure I didn’t miss anything, or that there aren’t mouse droppings anywhere, then my eyes fall on the register.

Rooting around under it, I find a canvas pouch before hitting a bunch of buttons. Finally, the drawer shoots out, and as Iexpected, she left the cash behind. I shove it all into the pouch and put that with the credit card reader on one of the steps.

Next, I run to the diner to grab some food we can heat up later.

*

“What time is it?” Molly’s voice is groggy from sleep and I look up from the movie I’ve been watching.

“A bit past seven,” I answer, crossing the five feet or so to crouch beside her bed. “What’ve you been up to, that you’re so tired?”

“I’ve just been slammed lately. Lots of tourists this time of year,” she answers with a yawn.

“Have you thought about hiring some help?”

“Not this year, but I will next summer,” Molly says, suddenly sitting up and blinking her eyes rapidly.

“The cash is right there,” I offer, correctly guessing her concern. “I didn’t know what to do with your card reader so I brought it up here also.”

“I can’t believe I forgot it! Thank you.” Swinging her feet off the side of the bed, she raises her arms up and stretches them until her back starts to crack.

“Why don’t you get in the shower? I got us BLTs and potato salad for dinner, I hope that’s alright.”

“Today, you’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

“It’s because of the bacon, isn’t it?” I ask with a wink, trying to ignore how much I love hearing that.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Molly answers with a smile, kissing my cheek before heading to the bathroom.

When I was younger, there was a time I counted the women I hooked up with. It stopped mattering after a while, then the actalmost stopped mattering, just the rush. I can tell the moment a woman decides to sleep with me, and it used to amuse me.

Tonight, it scares the hell out of me.

Molly matters more to me than any woman I’ve ever been around and I desperately want her to enjoy this.

Because from the second she opens the bathroom door, it’s like I can fucking smell her decision. She sits beside me on the small couch and we share a sandwich, rather than opening the second one. Her leg is pressed up against mine the entire time and like naughty kids, we play with our food; right up to the end when I rub the pickle spear over her bottom lip.

I yank it back when she tries to take a bite out of it and lean forward to kiss her instead, my tongue dancing and stroking hers.

“That’s not what I wanted in my mouth,” she laughs, pulling back from me.

“I know what you want in your mouth,” I tease her back. “And you aren’t ready for that.”

The snort that comes flying out of her makes my dick twitch in response.

My comment wasn’t false bravado, she’ll think it was until I show her what I’ve been saddled with, but I don’t want her mind on that just yet.

From what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t have much experience, so I’m going to have to warm her up. That starts now.

I stand and lean over her, sliding my arms down to lift her and carry her back to bed. The sheets are still warm from her nap and her hair’s still wet from her shower; now they’re going to get all messed up.

Making quick work of removing her pajamas, I start licking her pussy. She shoves her hand through my hair and bucks under me.

“Do you have a condom, Royce?” She moans a few moments into my administrations.

I lightly nip her clit with my front teeth, knowing damn well that she isn’t ready yet.

Reaching down, I slip a finger inside of her to start paving my way. When I feel her start to come, I add a second one, scissoring them inside of her so she can accept the width of my head when it’s time.

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