The night air was thick and humid, clinging to Lina’s skin as Marco pulled her by the wrist through the backdoor of the shop. She stumbled, breathless, still sore from the freezer session, but Marco didn’t care. Or maybe he did — and that was why he couldn’t stop touching her. His hand kept sliding down her back, toying with the waistband of her shorts as they stepped into the deserted parking lot.
The lot was dimly lit, one flickering lamppost casting long shadows. They were alone. Or so it seemed.
Marco leaned against his black pickup truck, the devil’s smirk playing on his lips as his eyes scanned her — tank top barely clinging to her, her thighs still sticky with dried ice cream, and her lips swollen from his earlier punishments.
“Out here?” she whispered, heart pounding.
“Why not?
