Page 60 of From Nowhere

But I can’t bring myself to care. Clarity is never punctual.

I like to flesh out my résumé for Father of the Year. Only a man with my elite set of skills, including morally sound decisions and impeccable timing, would attempt to get a woman off while his daughter uses the restroom.

The mind is an unsupervised playground, and mine has Maren naked. It’s not my hand between her legs; it’s my mouth. That one thought sends my tongue deep into her throat.

She releases my shirt and grips my hair instead. Then she looks for something else to hold as she squirms, breaking our kiss. Labored breaths fall from her lips while her hands smack the door, and I release her hair. Her head lolls side to side, pupils dilated, face tense.

I rest my free hand on the door just above her head, and we point our gazes to my other hand in her pants, her hips jerking against my touch.

“Oh god,” she whispers while her fingernails scrape the wood, and her chest heaves over and over. “Don’t stop, Ozzy. Don’t ... stop ...”

She’s wet and warm around my fingers as I move them in and out of her, as her soft flesh pulses and grips me with her release.

If I sneeze or even clear my throat, I’ll come because watching her orgasm is mind blowing. So I hold my breath while slowly withdrawing my hand from her pants. Maren breathlessly slides down the door to her butt, hugging her knees to her chest.

I rest my forearms on the door and close my eyes, ruining the moment out of necessity with visions of Tia’s scowl and roadkill—anything to quickly alleviatethe situationand compose myself before Lola returns.

“Thank you,” Maren says with her blue eyes pointed up at me when I open mine.

I’m speechless. Sometimes, I shock myself with this level of self-torture. Instead of words, I return a slight “Mm-hm” and offer her my hand.

She straightens her leggings when she’s on her feet again. I pull a card from my pocket and hand it to her.

Maren’s face explodes into a blinding smile as she takes it.

Rhubarb is a vegetable, not a fruit. And you can hear it grow. Hope you love them!

Ozzy x

“Ozzy,” she starts to say just as the door handle turns.

Jesus, that was close.

Maren jumps away from the door like it might bite her ass. And I’d be jealous because, in my NSFW thoughts, I want to bite her ass.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Lola asks.

I point for her to head toward the front of the house. “You’re being greedy.”

Halfway around the house, I glance back at Maren. She’s fixing her ponytail, and it makes me smirk.

“Don’t look so smug,” she murmurs before narrowing her eyes.

Smugisn’t the right word. I’m going withlucky bastard. I have a nice reel to replay in my head when I’m in the shower, catching a fewminutes of me-time. Maren’s pinched eyes and parted, full lips nearly brought me to my knees when she orgasmed.

I shrug, palms up.

When we reach the bikes, Maren stays laser focused on me as if the slightest shift in facial expression will signal I’m gloating.

I’m not. Really.

If anything, I’m trying to avoid all eye contact so that my dick stays limp for a more comfortable journey home. “Well.” I close one eye and scratch my eyelid before rubbing my forehead, gazing at the ground. “Thanks for letting Lola meet Bandit.”

Thanks for the kiss.

Thanks for letting me get to second base in the kitchen.

Thanks for letting me explore third base in the shed.

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