I S A B E L L A
"Can we talk about something else, please?" I mumble, trying to regain some semblance of control.
"As you wish," he replies smoothly, though I can still feel his eyes on me, like he's savouring every ounce of discomfort he's managed to stir up.
The silence that falls between us is charged, alive with tension. I sneak a glance at him, watching the way his hands rest on the steering wheel, his fingers relaxed but strong. There's a quiet power in the way he holds himself, and I find myself mesmerised by the subtle flex of his hands, his forearms against the fabric of his shirt. My mind begins to wander, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by those hands, to feel his strength, his control…
I quickly tear my gaze away, my cheeks burning even hotter. This is ridic
