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The driver eventually returned to driving, which allowed Chris to return his attention to Daphne. He also returned his fingers to her thighs, sliding them up under her skirt, slowly, as if expecting the driver to start chatting again. When the driver turned up the radio, Chris relaxed, and she did, too.
Chris’s fingers reached the edge of her panties, and he leaned into her ear.
“These seem to be in my way,” he said, plucking the lace of her panties.
Her breath caught, and she glanced at the driver, who was busy watching traffic as they entered the city. Also, the seat would clearly block his view even if he did glance back.
“I’m sure I can get past them if you’d rather not take them off,” he whispered.
“Do it for me,” she said.
His grin sparked. While she kept an eye on the driver, Chris slid her panties down, managing it far more gracefully than she would have. Then, panties balled in his fist, he tucked them into her bag.
Chris checked the driver again. The seat firmly blocked the man’s view, but Daphne still inched a little Chris’s way as his hand slid back under her skirt. His fingers grazed her inner thigh, but this time there was no tickling advance. They slid straight in, making her gasp.
“Better?” he said.
She could only nod. Then she realized her expression was probably not rearview mirror appropriate and quickly smoothed out her features. It wasn’t easy. Chris took zero time finding the right spot, and he might have joked about being an expert at self-control, but he was an expert at this.
She pretended to look out the side window, like nothing was happening, like she wasn’t in the back seat of a town car, panties off, Chris toying with her clit like a goddamn pro. And it was…
Hot.
Damn it was hot.
An exercise in self-control, indeed.
Her fingers dug into the leather seat, and she let out the smallest gasp, her breath coming fast. Then her legs snapped shut.
“Stop?” he said as he paused.
“No, just…” She swallowed. “Give me a sec.” She snuck a look his way, trying to bring her temperature down a notch. “Anything I can do for you?”
“Yes, but it’d be tricky. And you might not want to.”
“Tell me.”
He whispered into her ear. “Take off your bra.”
Heat singed through her. It started at her cheeks, but then it surged all the way down.
“Up to you,” he whispered. “It’s always up to you.”
She was wearing a rare button-up blouse. A D-cup usually meant no button-ups, but this one fit her well enough not to strain. If she took off her bra… The blouse was teal blue, and no one could see through it but yes, it would be obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.
So what?
There wasn’t a “no bra, no service” sign on the hotel door, and they’d be going straight up to her room.
She slid her hands up her back. The clasp let go with a snap of relief. Getting it off discreetly was, as Chris said, a bit tricky. But the blouse was loose, and she was determined, and soon it was in her hand and then in her bag.
“Nicely done, Houdini,” Chris said.
“I was properly motivated.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I bet that gets uncomfortable.”
“Oh, not that.” She leaned over and snuggled against him. “You told me to take it off, and I am in the mood to do as I’m told.”
