But her eyes... oh, fuck me, her eyes gave everything away. No mask. No restraint. Just raw, needy hunger. Wild and wet and starved. She looked like a woman who'd spent hours chained inside her own mind, forced to watch me touch, taste, own someone else.
And now? Now she wanted me to ruin her just to balance the scales.
"Get in," she breathed, her voice a wrecked whisper that still somehow carried authority. "Now."
The way she said it—hell, I barely remember opening the door. I slid into the passenger seat, but before the world could even catch up to the movement, she launched herself at me. Climbed over the center console like a panther in Louboutins, all legs and wrath and raw femininity.
Her skirt bunched up, lace panties damp and barely hanging on, thighs wrapped around me like she'd decided my lap was now federal property.
"Jesus, Madison—"
