Page 85 of From Nowhere

Maren gnaws her lower lip while hugging herself. I don’t have to ask if the mood has been ruined; it’s trenched in lines along her forehead.

“I’m ...” I shake my head and sigh. “I don’t know what to say.”

She pauses her teeth and relaxes. A smile steals her lips. “Cuddle?”

Pussy or cuddling? How do I keep from appearing disappointed? I crawl in bed, and she slides in beside me, wiggling and adjusting herself until her ass is pressed to my dick. My briefs and her thin leggings don’t hide much. This is torturous cuddling.

“If whatever this is between us doesn’t last, you’ll always remember me as the woman you almost had sex with but never succeeded,” she says softly.

I groan, burying my face in her hair. “Don’t say that.”

Her body shakes with silent laughter. And instead of resting my eyes and feeling satisfied that she’s in my arms, I snake my hand up hershirt and into the cup of her bra, stroking the pad of my thumb across her nipple. I’m shameless. Lola needs to wake up in fifteen minutes.

Maren arches her back into my touch, which presses her ass even harder against my cock. I tell myself to hold still. Be cool. Enjoy second base. Just because I’ve been to third and failed at getting to home plate doesn’t mean I can’t be satisfied with hitting a double. A double is pretty damn good for a Friday morning.

If only I listened to that voice of reason instead of my dick. If only Maren would stop grinding her ass against said dick.

I swallow hard, so fucking turned on I could die.

She reaches around and slides her hand into my briefs, stroking me.

We’re not having sex this morning. It’s too risky because of the time. It’s too risky because of the stupid car alarm that may have brought Lola out of a deep sleep. We’renothaving sex.

We’re just—touching each other.

Clothes on.

Ready for a fire should we need to evacuate.

Ready to answer the door should Lola knock.

I continue to caress her nipple with one hand while the other shimmies my briefs down my hips just a fraction so she can stroke the entire length of my cock.

Maren’s breaths quicken and get a little louder.

This is enough.

I’ve made that my motto. We don’t need to go any further. It’s not a good idea. I can still hear that voice of reason, even if it’s getting faint with the hammering of my heart.

But then Maren aims my cock toward her ass, and I accidentally jerk my hips, which shoves the head into her crack, restrained by the stretchy material of her leggings. Her heart pounds against my hand that’s splayed across her chest.

“Maren,” I whisper before kissing the back of her neck.

“God”—she pants—“I want you, Ozzy.”

It bears repeating in my head.We. Are. Not. Going. To. Have. Sex.

With one hand, I shove her leggings and panties down far enough that just her ass is exposed.

That’s it. That’s all I’m doing.

However,she’sthe one who guides my dick between her cheeks, between her legs. Okay, Imayrock my hips, but just a fraction, until the head of my cock reaches her clit.

She stutters my name between labored breaths. “O-Ozzy ...”

My hand grips her hip, and we move together. It’s not sex. Nope. We’re basically dressed. We’re just touching each other.

And it feels incredibly fucking good. Maren is warm andsowet. She’s practically purring as I slide back and forth between her folds.

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