Page 55 of Envy

I tear my gaze away and stare at the massive screen on the dashboard. It reminds me of something from a spaceship I’ve seen on TV.

The car door shuts with a solid thud.

He presses his foot on the brake, pushes a button, and the soft purr of the engine fills the silence—along with my erratic heartbeat.

Then, his hands move. Slow. Purposeful.

Heat erupts across my thighs as his palms slide over the black tights stretched over my skin.

I squirm.

And that’s when I feel it.

The hard length pressing against my ass—thick and growing by the second. “Keep squirming like that, and I’m going to fuck you in the school parking lot,” he rasps.

I freeze.

My breath is trapped in my throat, my body betraying me again. My mind flashes to him flipping my skirt up, burying himself inside me, deep and rough.

Would I scream?

Would I like it?

Would I claw his eyes out?

No. I already know the truth.

I would let him.

Because Garret is not John. He is not David or the others. If Garret wanted to take me, he would have.

But he hasn’t.

His need isn’t about control—it’s about me letting him.

And I did.

I let him kiss me.

I let him touch me.

I let him sink his teeth into my flesh and mark me.

And I didn’t fight.

I didn’t tell him to stop. I let him do things I never thought I’d let another man do—but him.

The shift in the air is suffocating, but he doesn’t push me further. Instead, he places the car in reverse.

The screen shifts with a live feed of the rear camera, beeping softly as he maneuvers the vehicle with effortless precision. “This is reverse,” he says, his voice calm, controlled. His large hands rest lightly over mine, guiding them to the wheel. “This is drive.”

My fingers tremble beneath his.

“Relax,” he murmurs against the back of my neck, his breath a dangerous caress. “I got you. You’re doing great.”

I forget that I’m sitting on his lap.

Forget the way he feels against me.

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