Seth shifted in discomfort. Each word she said only succeeded in giving Jason a bigger case of hero worship, and he didn’t want to be the kid’s hero.

“Okay, uh, I’m gonna catch some shut-eye until I have to go,” Seth said before she could continue. He gave the rugrats a quick nod, Miranda one final look, and then left the living room.

After he shut and locked his bedroom door, he stripped off his T-shirt, cargo pants and boxer briefs, and made his way to the bed. He hadn’t lied—sleep was definitely on the docket. Except he wouldn’t get a wink of it unless he remedied the problem down below.

He stretched out on the bed and fisted his erection, disappointed that he and Miranda wouldn’t be able to find any private time tonight. But she’d be busy with her kids until the babysitter showed up, and by the time she got home from work, he’d be deep beneath the ocean’s surface, engaged in mock amphibious landings.

Closing his eyes, he pumped his c**k in quick, even strokes and envisioned Miranda’s perky tits. Her dusky ni**les, so responsive to his touch. The sexy curve of her ass and baby-soft skin of her inner thighs. It didn’t escape him that he was jerking off to the thought of a woman who was by no means out of his reach. She was right beyond that door, and it drove him nuts that he couldn’t just take her whenever it tickled his fancy. But Miranda was a mom first—she’d made that abundantly clear—which meant that the twins claimed first priority on her time.

His cock, unfortunately, was of lesser importance.

No sooner had he accepted that grim assessment of his position on the totem pole than a soft knock sounded on the door.

When Miranda quietly said “can I come in” his c**k twitched with excitement, a drop of fluid seeping from its slit.

He was off the bed in an instant, unlocking the door and tugging her into the room.

“Eleven minutes,” she whispered.

He shot her a questioning look.

“There’s eleven minutes left in the movie. It’s the final battle scene between the aliens and those weird purple monsters. The kids are hypnotized.” She was sliding out of her leggings as she spoke. “So we’ve got eleven minutes to make this happen.” Her gaze swept over his naked body. “I see you’ve already gotten started.”

He brought his hand back to his erection and gave it a firm squeeze. “I had no choice. Watching you nibble on that pizza got me hard as a rock.”

“Hmmm, I can see that.” Her hand replaced his, her graceful fingers curling over his stiff shaft.

When she pumped him nice and slow, he let out a husky moan and reached for her. He slid his hands underneath her shirt and cupped her br**sts over her sports bra. Neither of them made a move toward the bed. They simply stood against the door, his hands fondling her br**sts, hers jacking his c**k in a lazy, torturous rhythm that made his vision waver.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in pants as she quickened the pace. “Condom,” he ground out.

“In a minute.”

Before he could blink, she dropped to her knees, her face level with his cock. Every muscle in his body coiled tight as she gripped the root of him and brought him to her mouth.

Oh Jesus. Wet warmth surrounded him, the suction so unbearably sweet. Miranda pulled the skin taut and delicately licked the exposed head, flicking the underside with her tongue before sucking him deep again. When her hands came into play, one wrapping around his base, the other cupping his tight, achy balls, he hissed out a curse and withdrew from her eager mouth.

“No fair,” she complained. “You never let me have fun.”

He almost shot his load when he saw her big hazel eyes peering up at him, her lips glossy with moisture. “That’s because I’m always in a hurry to get inside you,” he grumbled.

“Well, too bad. Today you get to exercise some patience.”

“Patience? We only have eleven minutes.”

“Eight minutes now,” she corrected, her gaze straying to the alarm clock by the bed. “So if you don’t want to waste any more time, I suggest you shut up and let me suck your dick.”

Hot animalistic lust clamped over him. Well. Who was he to argue with that?

Changing positions so that he was the one leaning against the wall, Seth tangled one hand in Miranda’s long brown hair and guided her back to his cock. She opened wide, took him deep, and sucked him hard, eliciting a strangled groan from his lips.

For someone who hadn’t been with a man in seven years, she knew exactly what to do, exactly how to drive him to new heights of agonizing pleasure. She gripped him with the perfect amount of pressure, pumped with the right amount of force. She tightened her mouth’s suction with each downstroke, flicked her tongue over his head on each upstroke. Soon he was pistoning his hips, body straining for deeper contact, desperation building and gathering in his balls.

Miranda let out a muffled moan. He noticed she’d moved one hand between her legs so she could furiously rub her clit. Her excitement fed his own, her enthusiasm bringing forth a rush of male satisfaction. He f**king loved that she enjoyed going down on him, that it turned her on the way going down on her did him.

She increased the tempo, her mouth and hand moving up and down his cock, which glistened with saliva and throbbed with anticipation. He was close. Very close. He should pull out. Get a condom. Slide into her tight heat and f**k her hard. Yet he didn’t have the strength to leave the warm, moist heaven of Miranda’s mouth.