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He smirked, clearly satisfied with being my undoing. I licked his face clean before slipping my tongue in his mouth. “You see how sweet you taste?” He grabbed my cheek, and I nipped at his lip. “I’m a lucky man, because I get to taste you dripping down my throat.”

I wasted no time going for the waistband of his pants, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. Eagerly shoving my hand inside, I claimed his dick. “Less talking, more fucking, unless you’re talking about how good your dick feels inside me.”

Ozzie scooped me up, pants around his ankles, teasing my clit with his tip before sliding inside. I dug my nails into his shoulders as he slowly stretched me out. “You take my dick so well.” The compliment caused me to blush. I was always impressed with how his massive member fit me like we were a matching pair, made for one another. My legs were loosely wrapped around his waist because Ozzie was using his forearm as a bench for my ass. I worked my hips with the hope that the tip of his dick would pierce my soul.

“I was having withdrawals,” he whispered.

“Were you fiending for me, baby?”

“Night sweats, loss of focus, blurry vision—all side effects when I’m not fucking you.”

“Sounds like you were going through it.”

Ozzie weaved his fingers in my locs, giving a tug. “No more fucking timeouts. Now turn that ass around and take this dick.” He bent me over the bathroom counter, and his well-timed thrust wrecked me. Leaning back, he demanded I work my ass over him. Up to the challenge, I gripped the sink and got to bouncing. Ozzie’s deep moans and grunts were my seal of appreciation. “Best pussy in all of Tennessee. This right here is prize-winning pussy.” The accolades made me work harder as he slapped my ass.

His hand landed between my thighs, and I almost blacked out. Taking this dick was already a Herculean effort, and now that he was stroking my sweet spot, I was having difficulty staying on my feet. With his free hand, he guided my waist. “Stay with me, baby—don’t tap out yet.”

“Ozzie, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pulled out, and I let out a whimper. “If you’re fittin’ to come, then I need a front-row seat.” Spinning me around so I faced him, he slid back in place, and in under a minute my nerves were at a fever pitch. I loved fucking this man. I always had and always would. “You feel so good, baby. This is all I’ve ever wanted.” He brushed his lips against mine. “You are perfect. Do you know that?”

“Mmm.”

“Tell me. Say it.”

“No one’s perfect, Oz.” Even at the height of passion, I couldn’t pay myself a compliment.

“You are. You’re perfect to me. Say that shit back.”

“I’m per… perfect.”

“Now come on Daddy’s dick, beautiful.”

I would do anything he asked. His prompt spurred my ascension into nirvana. Oz held me tight, his shivers and grunt signaling he’d also glimpsed the face of God.

When we finally settled, Ozzie covered my face with kisses, trailing sweet pecks across my cheek, stopping to linger on my mouth before pecking the other cheek. “Best pussy ever. I stand on that shit. The prettiest, softest lips.”

“Which ones?”

“Both.”

As the high waned, my mind was slowly flooded with questions. Most I didn’t want the answers to, but others, when finally asked, would determine the rest of our lives.

“This was a great idea,” Fancy trilled. She, Reese, and I were at Ten Pin Bowling Alley. After major renovations, it had finally reopened a few months ago. Cyrus had pushed hard to find a new owner for this place—he hated vacant buildings, and Hume only had a handful of family-friendly hangouts.

Reese came back to the table after only hitting three pins. “My game is trash tonight.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Reese—you’re no worse than any other night,” I teased.

“Gee, thanks.”

Our voices rang out in unified laughter. Tonight was Strike Night—for every strike you made, you got one free shot. It sounded like a good deal, but when the waitress brought the drink to your table, you had to immediately tip it back. The more drinks you consumed, the worse you played. Lucky for me I could hold my liquor.

“It’s not your game. Dial is just better at everything.” Fancy flexed her fingers, preparing for her turn.

“That’s not true. I can’t sing worth a damn.” Mountains had had to move to get me here tonight. Fancy had suggested we get together, and I was leaning toward a no because between the stacks of invoices on my desk and the ten-page paper that was barely coming together, I had little time for leisure. Plus, with Ozzie out of town, I didn’t have a babysitter. But Edison wasn’t interested in my excuses—he agreed to watch Maple and close the nursery. So here I was in tight jeans and a crop top about to bowl a damn-near-perfect game.

“I’m only a few pins behind you. You haven’t won yet.” Fancy knocked down seven pins, and on her second go toppled the rest. It was a respectable effort, but I still ended up on top, and I didn’t even gloat.