I wiped at my face, hating the vulnerability, the crack in my voice. Crying in front of her, the man who'd always been the strong one, the mentor.
But she didn't mock; instead, her expression softened, hand reaching out again, this time gentle on my arm. "Ezra, listen to me. I get it—the guilt, everything you can think of. But I've tried ignoring it. Every day in that garage, seeing you, it builds. And my fantasies... they're not just dreams. I imagine us here, in this car. You pulling over like this, but instead of stopping, you grab me, shove my face against the window, yank my jeans down, and f**k me from behind. Hard. The glass fogging with my breath, your hand over my mouth so no one hears. Or me straddling you, riding your c**k while you drive, the risk making it intense. Snow falli
