Redemption For Two Read Online Free Page B

that she liked it a good bit harder as things went along. This time he didn’t bother. He started hard and went harder, and she was making a lot of noise before he finished.
    Mickey loved that she came, and that made him do it, too, right afterwards. Sandy turned in place when he finished and sat on the toilet to clean herself up. Mickey looked down at her for a moment and pressed his hips forward.
    “Clean me, too,” he said. She reached for more tissue but he gave her a look. “No,” he said. “Do it with your mouth.”
    “You’re such a baby,” she said, not unkindly, and took his cock in her mouth and sucked him gently for a moment and then sat back. “There, all better?”

Chapter Four
    Outside, another beach goer stood off to one side and gave them a look. Mickey grinned at him and Sandy blushed furiously. The guy had obviously heard, and been waiting for them to finish. He gave Sandy a sort of wistful look and went into the bathroom as they walked away. Sandy covered her face with her hands, mortified, but laughing anyway. When they got to her car, she asked for the g-string.
    “It isn’t much,” she said. “But it’s all I have.”
    “Nope,” Mickey said.
    “I am not going to work without underpants!”
    “Sure you are,” he said, smiling.
    “Come on, baby, this isn’t funny anymore.”
    “Deal with it, Sandy. No g-string today and no panties tomorrow.”
    “You’re impossible,” she said, miffed and showing it. “What do you want me to do, beg?”
    “I want you to get in the damned car.” He’d been about an inch away from giving in to her, and changed his mind on the spot. “Come on, it’s nearly one. You don’t want to be late for work.”
    “I told you,” she said in a controlled voice. “I’m not going to work without...”
    “Okay, play hooky, then. Call in sick this afternoon, and we’ll go swimming up at Juno Beach. Maybe pick up a six-pack on the way. I brought your bathing suit, so you don’t even have that as an excuse.”
    “I can’t...”
    “Will you just stop telling me what you can’t do, for once?”
    She took a breath. “This job is all we’ve got,” she said.
    That was the ultimate reasoning, throwing the responsibility back into his lap. If he made her lose the job, then they’d have nothing. That was the inference, and the accusation. Mickey felt the knot of muscle forming in his belly. Nothing like a little guilt trip to ice the cake.
    Sandy’s expression said very clearly that she had made her point, and the conversation was over. She started the car and drove away with a quick little flip of her hand as good-bye. Mickey watched her go, thinking that she hadn’t won shit. He still had the silly leather thong in his pocket, the thing she had refused to wear in the first place, and then dug her heels in to recover.
    “Got’cha, sweetie,” he said with no little satisfaction.
    Midday was no time to fish the beach, and it was too early to go home. He went back out to the table where they had eaten lunch and balled the paper wrappers up and put them in the trash. He wondered what to do for a minute and then got back on the bike and went over to the metal shop where he had worked for three years before the big layoffs.
    “You could spend a couple of hours straightening out the yard,” Donnie Ponz said in his laconic way. Ponz owned the place. He was talking about the lay down areas where he stored metal and scrap.
    “Fifty bucks,” Mickey said.
    “Your ass, fifty,” Ponz said with his sour laugh. “Nine bucks an hour for labor, sport, cash in hand. Best I can offer.”
    Mickey wished he had the baseball bat, but said that would be fine. Ponz flapped one hand toward the yard, and said, “You know where the forklift is.”
    It was the first time in two months that Mickey had sweated, and he liked the feeling. Shifting steel and balks of timber around was scut work, and he was no laborer. He was a fabricator. No one had asked him to do anything