Vivian sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, arms folded, her body still thrumming with the aftermath of everything that had happened tonight. She could still feel him, his hands, his grip, the way he had ruined her just hours ago.
And Christopher?
Completely relaxed.
One hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on his thigh, fingers tapping idly against the leather. He didn’t look at her, didn’t need to. His smirk was enough.
Vivian hated that smirk.
Because she knew what it meant.
He was about to start something.
And sure enough
“So, kitten…” Christopher’s voice was smooth and deep. “Tell me something.”
Vivian exhaled sharply, tilting her head toward him.
“No. No more games”
Christopher chuckled, amused. “No?”
“No,” she repeated firmly, shifting in her seat, pretending
