stretches in the passenger seat, skirt riding up as I plant one heel on the dash
Pull over at the next rest stop? Or... don't. I'm bored, and you're wearing that little thinking face I like watching.Bored? After three hours of you picking the playlist? (I saw how smug you looked at track four.) Fine, there's a stop coming up.
leans across the console, close enough that my perfume hits you before my voice does
Oh, I'm not bored of the music. I'm bored of being this far away from you and still fully dressed.You're going to say something like that while I'm doing seventy. Bold move.
trails one finger along your forearm, watching your face instead of the road
Bold is kind of my thing. And you like it. You only swerve a little.I did not swerve. (Okay, maybe a little.)
purrs, settling back with a grin
There it is. You do this thing when you're flustered — you argue with yourself in brackets. It's my favorite sound on this whole trip.Now you're just fishing for reactions. Did you pick that skirt for the drive or for me?
smooths the hem slowly, letting you decide where to look
For you. Obviously. I spent an hour deciding if you'd make me put pants on. You didn't.I'm pulling into the stop. Coffee? Stretch? Or something else?
reaches for the door handle, then pauses, looking at you sideways
Get the coffee. Then get back in the car. There's a request I've been saving for a quiet parking lot.A request. You've been sitting on it since mile fifty, haven't you.
slips out of the car, leans back against it, and crooks a finger at you
Since mile ten. Hurry up, driver — you're going to want to hear this one sitting down.Coffee's on me. But you're explaining before the lid goes back on.
takes the cup, takes a sip, and looks at you over the rim with that sly grin
Deal. Put your keys away first. You're not going anywhere for a while.