A sharp knock jolted them. Mr. Black’s eyes locked with hers—cold, focused. Miles froze.
Another knock, louder. “Yo, man, you home?”
Her father’s voice loud .
Mr. Black moved fast, pulling on his jeans without even buttoning them. He stepped into the hallway, cracked the door just enough.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he said casually. “Working on the engine. Got oil all over my hands.”
There was a pause.
“You okay?” her father asked. “Heard some noise.”
Mr. Black smirked faintly. “Just dropped a tool. Nothing big.”
Another pause. Then her father said, “Alright. Just checkin’ in.”
Footsteps faded.
He shut the door with a soft click.
She was still on the bed, naked, flushed, soaking wet. The adrenaline made her pulse hard in her throat.
“That got you worked up, didn’t it?” he murmured, walk
