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Christ Almighty.
My mouth goes dry as I scan her from the tips of her painted red toes, up her golden tan legs and higher, my eyes eating up the sight of her barely covered body wearing nothing but a red string bikini that should be illegal in all fifty states.
Fuuuuck. Me.
Reaching down, I adjust myself.
There’s no question about it. Oakland Hardy is a goddamn knockout.
"Hey, Thorn." Harley laughs.
When I turn my head and our eyes connect, she smirks.
Yeah, yeah. You caught me perving on your girl. Who could blame me?
"Where's your old man?"
Unable to keep my eyes off her, I glance back to Oakland to get another good look.
It’s crazy the pull she has on me.
I met the woman once, a few weeks ago, but fuck me, the memory I’ve been beating off to didn’t do her any justice.
"He's out in the shop with the rest of the guys," Harley answers.
I turn back to her and frown which tips her off that I have no clue what the hell I just asked her. Oakland is having that kind of effect on me.
Fuck.
Harley giggles. "I said, Wrath is out in the shop," she repeats, her tone dripping with amusement.
"Right— Wrath." I shake my head, remembering that he mentioned earlier in the week he needed to tune up his bike.
Turning back to the woman who’s grinning at my expense, I tip my head. "Oakland."
"Hi, Thorn,” she replies softly.
My name rolling off her lips goes straight to my dick.
"Daddy, look! It's my friend Morgan from school." Like being doused with a buck of cold water, my dick instantly deflates.
I turn and look from Mila to the little girl who’s a miniature version of her mother. Same tiny stature, and the same platinum blonde corkscrew curls.
There's no denying she belongs to Oakland.
“Hi, darlin'." I wave.
The tiny sprite smiles, showing off her missing front teeth. "Hi," she responds bashfully.
And fuck me, isn’t she just as adorable as her momma.
"That's my daddy. Everyone calls him Thorn, but I just call him Daddy,” I hear Mila explain as I make my way over to Oakland.
"Go find your old man, Harley," I demand, not taking my eyes off her friend.
"But—" My eyes cut to Harley and her mouth snaps closed. "Fine," she says before mumbling under her breath, “Good luck, girl."
"Uhm…, thanks?" Oakland looks from her friend, then back to me, her eyes wide like a deer that’s just gotten caught in headlights.
