Mature Content

Even while we were still inside the car, I could already feel the tension between us.

Terrence was quiet, but his hands—good heavens—his hands refused to stay still. He kept brushing his fingers over my arm, slowly sliding down to my waist, and sometimes even grazing my thigh. It was as if he couldn’t relax unless he was touching me.

“Terrence… Oscar is right there,” I whispered, trying desperately not to make any embarrassing sounds. I glanced at the rearview ...