Lita was quiet as they drove towards whatever destination Diarmid clearly already had in mind. He was pensive and quiet but the sideways glances he gave her at every opportunity ranged from pleading and sorrowful to lustful as he raked his gaze over the outfit she had on.
She and the girls had been dressed for drinks and dancing and she was wearing a pair of skin-tight black leather pants, a bright red cropped top covered with a fluffy feathery black sweater which reached just to her hips to protect her from the chilly evening and everything was put together by the tallest heels she had in her closet. Her hair had been straightened to pin perfection before pulled into the high pony and her make-up, done by Chyna was flawless.
She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to screa
