Molly rubbed her forehead and the headache forming there. It’d been a long day, long enough that she’d brought home more takeout than she could eat even though her son would be away for the entire weekend.
Paul arrived right after she’d set everything out on the kitchen counter. That boy had uncanny timing. Or maybe, he’d been waiting for her to come home without Tyler there. Her son’s best friend made a habit of eating dinner at her house. His own parents weren’t prize winners: his mother abandoned him to his alcoholic father when he was eleven.
Following Tyler home one day set them up for the next nine years of family dinners for three instead of two, and Paul was a blessing of a child. He helped without needing to be asked. Always said please and thank you. And he never expected any fuss.
Paul held out a bottle of sparkling grape juice to her before he swooped in for a hug. It was the only thing he asked for, and Molly was happy to give him the love that he seemed to be missing otherwise. It was far too easy to be his surrogate Mom.
“Thanks, honey. How was your day? You had that big exam, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. World History. There were a lot of multiple choice questions, so I did okay. Better than if it’d been fill in the blank.”
Molly groaned in sympathy. “I couldn’t imagine trying to remember all of those dates and names without any prompting whatsoever.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’m glad Professor Linde took it easy on us.”
Patting him on the shoulder, she pointed to the carton of lo mein. “Your favorite.”
Paul’s smile made her happy. He so rarely seemed to offer one up on his own, and he was such a sweet boy. Although he hated being called as much. Suppose being twenty and a sophomore in college meant she should start calling him a sweet man instead, but he’d always be that lonely little boy she’d nurtured alongside her own son.
They made plates of Chinese food. Even when they got take out, they always made plates instead of eating out of cartons. Molly would stand for nothing less, even as they both stood at the counter, side-by-side, to eat it. Paul asked her about her day. Being a manager of a busy office was tiring, but it could have been worse.
Molly liked how Paul talked to her so readily. More easily than Tyler did.
His brown eyes were soft with heightened emotional intelligence and regular intelligence, and he’d always been able to see things that Molly couldn’t when she talked about her day with him. Or his with her.
When she washed the dishes, he put the cartons away and stood beside her to dry like he’d done since he was eleven. As he polished the last plate, Molly turned to dry off her hands and slipped in the small puddle, ready to land on her ass, but she didn’t.
A strong arm cinched her waist, keeping her upright and pressed into the wide expanse of a chest she hadn’t known was so large or toned, but it spread under her hands as she grabbed onto his shoulders.
They were so close that she couldn’t help but smell the grease on his skin from working on his car that afternoon or the aftershave he’d used to cover it up. Paul held onto her so effortlessly, and his body radiated such heat, Molly felt stuck in place.
Paul audibly slowed his breathing between them, and his warmth filtered into her.
Stubble darkened his jaw and chin, making it rougher than she remembered his skin being.
He reached one hand up to unclasp her hair from the clip that’d let loose half of her hair, and his thumb brushed along the underside of her jaw and neck. Her hair tumbled down her back before he released Molly and handed the clip back to her.
It put space between them, and they both took a deep breath.
Paul cleared his throat. “You’ve had a long day. You should go enjoy a bath and a book.”
Molly laughed, re-securing her hair. “That sounds perfect.”
They lingered near each other for a moment.
“You know Tyler is gone for the weekend, right?” she asked.
He nodded but seemed reluctant.
“It’s Dad’s day off, and he already started drinking before I left this afternoon for classes.”
Molly’s hand found his arm again, noticing how big that was, too. “You can stay in Tyler’s room if you want. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. We’ll both clean up, and we can put on a movie afterward, okay?”
Relief smoothed out the tension in his brows and shoulders. He nodded. “Thanks.”
Fleeing to get the few minutes alone she was allowed for the day, the bubble bath was nice, and her muscles were sore and tired.
Her center ached, too, from the fresh feeling of Paul’s arms around her and how he pressed her to his chest. The way his touch made the skin along her neck and scalp tingle.
Molly shook it off. She was reading into things because she’d had a long day. She was exhausted.
An audiobook delighted her as she sank into it, and she did finally relax before the water turned cold.
In Tyler’s room, Paul borrowed one of his ratty tees and some basketball shorts for after his own shower. His skin burned where Molly’s hands had grabbed onto him. The brief encounter changed something between them.
Did she finally realize that he wasn’t a little boy anymore? Had she noticed the way he always looked at her?
Even when he was twelve, he’d found her attractive. Knew better than to think anything of it, but she’d always been beautiful to him. The mother he wanted, creating a small pocket of love in the world that wanted to snuff him out.
Paul rubbed his forehead. What was he thinking? That his best friend’s mom, his surrogate mom, would reciprocate any of the romantic fantasies that plagued him through puberty? That she wore those tiny little shorts and tops without her bra to entice him?
Fire pummeled him with the kinds of things he wanted to do to Molly.
Things he shouldn’t want to do, but she was only thirty-six to his twenty. She wasn’t married or seeing anyone seriously.
And Paul did want her.
Wanted her so badly that his dick wouldn’t cooperate until he took it in his hand and nutted in the guest bathroom, thinking of Molly’s tight little body and those pale green eyes.
Fuck, he was going to hell.
When he met her down in the kitchen again, she was in those shorts and a tank, her perky breasts drawing his gaze without the bra. The pebble of her nipples under that thin fabric flooded his mouth with saliva.
Molly clipped her wet hair up as she walked in with a smile, like she was oblivious to the show of skin she gave him or how he had to clench his hands to keep from touching her.
“Did you want popcorn?”
Paul shook his head.
He gave her a shrug and opened the sparkling grape juice he’d brought. Molly usually kept a beer or two around, but she didn’t openly drink in front of him because of his dad.
She’d like a flute filled with bubbling liquid though, saying it made her feel fancy, so he poured them both a glass as she gathered a bowl of chips and dip. Her smile at the long, glass stems in his hands, lit her up and rekindled the heat he’d been trying to smother earlier.
Paul followed her to the couch.
Molly put on one of the horror movies they usually enjoyed and spread herself out along the cushions. Even though the September heat left the room muggy, she still tucked her toes under his thigh to keep them warm as she always did.
He shouldn’t have expected her to act any different.
As the movie pushed through the initial violence to set up the characters they were meant to root for, Paul had Molly’s foot in his grip. It was so small, like the rest of her, between his big hands.
Pushing both thumbs down the center of her sole made her gasp at the other end of the couch. It wasn’t the first time he’d rubbed her feet, fitting into his kinesiology major and aim to become a physical therapist.
Now, he took his time drawing over the pressure points of each foot, up her ankle, and to her calf. A knot made her suck in a breath and groan, her mouth open and eyes closed against the pain. The look on her face made his cock so fucking hard, and it spurred him on, pressing every tiny knot as he worked himself higher up her body to hear her groan in pain. It could so easily be pleasure.
When he squeezed under her knee, she jerked and looked at him like she might tell him to stop until he dragged a knuckle up the tight line in the back of her thigh.
It shot her body forward, exposing more of her leg for him to dig into. She cried out.
What a taste. Paul wanted to prompt those noises from pleasure instead, but he drank in every little moan and twitch he gained as he worked his way up to the hem of those tiny shorts.
“We need to get you better shoes if you’re going to have this much tension in your legs.” Now that he had her thigh in his hands, he took full advantage, drawing along her hip and turning her toward him as he leaned into her quads.
Her new gasp lifted her off the cushion, her hand gripping his arms like she might stop him. But the panting coming from her parted lips screamed that she might be as turned on as he was.
When his thumb dipped along her inner thigh, the gap between them closed.
Tracing the crease of her thigh and hip, Paul distracted her with a hand at the back of her head as he leaned in.
“What are you doing?” Molly’s voice weakened, lowered with nerves and desire.
“We’re both old enough to know what I’m doing, Molly.”
A strangled noise caught in her throat as he covered her mouth with his. Her fingers tightened around his bicep. After a second of hesitation, Molly kissed him back, opening to him.
Paul gave up the pretense of rubbing her muscles for innocent reasons and grabbed ahold of her hip and waist and pressed their bodies together. He wanted to do so many things to her, to have her do more to him, to ensure she enjoyed herself so that she’d seek him out next time.
He’d chase after her though. Instigate every little dalliance if she let him.
Kissing down her neck dropped her head back and spread her legs for him to creep between. “God, Molly, if you don’t want this. Say so, and I’ll stop.”
Her hand smoothed up his chest, across his shoulder, and into his hair as he garnished the small kisses along her throat with his teeth.
She made no moves to stop him, so Paul wrapped himself up in her.
Read the rest of Molly’s story here.
Molly got pregnant young, and during her twenty years as a single mom, she raised her son and his best friend to be responsible, respectable men.
But when her son is away for the weekend, Paul spends the night and shows Molly just how grown up he really is.
When her surrogate son makes a move, will she shut him down or give in to his advances?
Dive into this short, hot erotica story now & get some deals from GET THAT BOOK!