The city lights blurred outside the window, rain tapping gently against the glass. Lila slid into the backseat of the dark sedan, the soft scent of leather and pine already making her thighs press together.
"Lila?" the driver asked without looking, voice low and smooth.
"That's me."
He glanced at her in the mirror.
His eyes were dark. Intense. Curious.
She settled into the seat, crossing her legs slowly. Her skirt slid just enough for him to see skin.
He didn't say anything.
But he didn't look away.
The car rolled forward. Jazz played low through the speakers. Lila watched him drive-hands large and steady on the wheel, veins along his forearms standing out. Tattoos peeked from beneath the sleeves of his black hoodie.
He looked like the kind of man who could be quiet and filthy at
