The moment the Jeep starts and I pull out of the parking lot onto Main Street, he slips his hand onto my thigh.
I stiffen—because holy shit, that’s not subtle.
“Really?” I ask, glancing over with my best don’t-even-think-about-it face.
He draws lazy circles with his thumb. “What? I’m just sitting here. Touching my boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel harder. “Just sitting.”
He drags his fingers a little higher. Just enough to ruin my focus. Just enough to make breathing feel optional.
I choke on a laugh. “Todd.”
“Yes, Logan?”
He says it like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Stop.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
He definitely is. His hand climbs another inch, and I swear the air leaves my lungs. A soft sound slips out from someplace embarrassingly real inside me.
“Oh,” he says, leaning closer, “are you distracted?”
“Todd,” I warn.
“Mhm?”
That’s it.
I flick on my blinker, cut across two empty lanes, and pull the Jeep into the first parking lot I see. Before he finishes smirking, I’m unbuckling my seatbelt.
He barely has time to ask “What are y—” before I’m on him.
My mouth crashes into his, hours of being teased coming out in one kiss that steals every thought he has. His hands fly up to my hoodie, gripping tight, pulling me closer like I’m oxygen.
He makes a soft sound—half gasp, half moan—and I devour it. He tastes like winter air and heat and everything I shouldn’t want while behind the wheel of a vehicle.
I kiss him until he’s breathless. UntilI’mbreathless. Until the windows fog and the world outside disappears into cold white noise.
When I finally break away, he’s staring at me with wide, lust-filled eyes and a grin that could end me.
“So,” he says, voice rough, “should I keep distracting you?”
I grab his jaw gently, thumb brushing his cheek. “If you want to get home alive,” I whisper, “you’re gonna sit there and behave.”
He bites his bottom lip, holding back a smile. “No promises.”
I groan. “You’re gonna kill me.”
He leans back in the seat, smug as hell. “Worth it.”
I shake my head, still catching my breath, put the Jeep back in gear, and pull out of the lot.
And yeah—my driving isnotbetter now, especially with the very real issue hard in my jeans.
The drive isn’t long, but with Todd sitting there looking like he wants to climb into my lap every time we hit a stoplight, it feels like an eternity.
