My knees hit the mat with a dull thud that I feel all the way up my spine. My shoulders wedge between Lukas’s spread knees as the seat edge digs into my shoulder blades. When the car takes a turn, I have to brace one hand on his thigh just to keep from toppling sideways.
The muscle beneath my palm is solid. I can feel the heat of him through the fine fabric of his trousers. My other hand hovers uselessly in the air, unsure where to go or what to do.
I’m trapped down here in this tiny space with him towering above me, and the power dynamic has never been more literal. The crown of my head barely reaches his chest from this angle. His thighs bracket my shoulders like the walls of a cage.
When I’m in position, I look up at him.
I have to tilt my head back to see his face. I find him watch
