I'm Only Here for the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #4)(78)

Molly turned on her heel and flounced away, passing me with bared teeth. "Don't look at me."

I held up my hands in surrender.

"I … "

"Molly Kate!"

I looked toward the door where my father was coming through, his eyes on my girl as she started up the stairs.



       
         
       
        

Molly changed directions and started to tumble down the steps in her haste to get to 'Papa.' Luckily, Butterfinger was there, blocking her fall before she could even get more than a teeter in.

"Oh, giiiirl," Dad said as he snatched her off her feet. "I missed you." Dad's grin was soft. "Did you read your books?"

"Daddy read," she nodded. "I just waited for him to finish so I could read."

Molly wasn't a reader … yet. She was advanced as fuck, and already as smart as a whip. She had the vocabulary of a fifteen-year-old, and an attitude that could rival any teenager's.

She was so much like me that it was scary. The spitting image, as my father liked to point out.

"Let's get in bed, then," he said as he headed for the stairs.

I waved at my dad as he passed me a humorous look over his shoulder, and headed for the kitchen where I could hear my wife banging around.

"I already did those," I told her.

She dropped the pan and sighed. "Sorry. They were in the same spot. I just assumed you didn't hear me."

I snorted. "You assumed that they were dirty, and that I ignored what you had to say."

"Well … " she grinned. "That's you. I say something, and unless it has to do with sex, beer, guns, or your princess, you completely ignore what I have to say."

I walked up to her and dropped a kiss on her mouth, being sure to rub my beard against her chin once I was finished.

"I listen."

"You listen," she agreed. "When you want to."

I shrugged. "I can't help it that you won't speak to me about stuff that I want to listen to."

She punched me in the chest.

"That was so … so … ugh!"

I grinned and gave her a sound kiss straight to the lips.

She returned the kiss, then pushed away from me and headed for the living room.

"She's mad at me and you."

"What for this time?" Naomi yawned, then fell back onto the couch and slumped into it, closing her eyes and snuggling in like she was there for the long haul.

"Don't forget that we're having the boys and their wives over today."

She cracked open one eye.

"I'll get up and get changed when they get here."

I snorted, then reached down and hauled her to her feet.

Once she was on her feet, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to our room, winking at my dad as I passed him on the way. 

I placed her down on the bed, and she sighed, staring up at the ceiling fan that we'd picked out together a little over three years ago.

"I love this place."

I grinned, looking over at the wall plaque that said the same thing that she said every single time she made it to our room and laid down onto our bed.

Emotion stung my throat, and I repositioned myself between her thighs before leaning over her, hands fisted and planted on the bed on either side of her head.

"This place we've built, you've been with me every step of the way," I rumbled. "You were with me the day we broke ground. You were with me the day the first wall was put up. The first nail was put into the drywall. The first stroke of paint was put on the wall." I took a deep breath. "I'm so lucky that I met you."

Her eyes welled with tears.

"Are you going to say the same thing to me every time I say 'I love this place' to you?"

I grinned.

"I feel like it's a game. Like I have to say it now."

She started to snicker.

I dropped a kiss to her mouth, and she groaned.

"I'm so horny," she said boldly. "I've been dying to have you inside of me all day."

I grinned and pushed away from her, walking to the door and slamming it closed before twisting the lock.

"Don't forget the bathroom door, too," she said, sitting up and stripping her clothes from her body as she spoke, all signs of exhaustion wiped away from her face.

Then again, that wasn't very surprising. The woman's libido was greater than even mine when she was pregnant, and I wasn't a spring chicken anymore.

But my body didn't care, happy to oblige her each and every time she raised the flag of need for me to see.

By the time I stripped my pants off, she was already naked and dropping to her knees in front of me.

By the time I had my hand wrapped around her hair, she was already sinking that hot, silky mouth down onto my cock.