"Making sure you don't touch yourself." He wound the rope around my wrists and pulled it tighter.
"I have to pack up my things," I argued.
"I'll pack them up." He tied a neat knot in the rope.
"What about my clothes?" I leaned forward and started trying to tug them back into place.
"Oh no, don't do that." He grabbed my ankle and eased my leggings and panties off over my shoe, then the other one.
"I'm not going into town half-naked," I protested.
He laughed before throwing my clothes into my bag and starting to pack everything away. "Yes, you are."
"You're a prick," I told him. My body was aching and he was happy to torture me?
That made him laugh harder. "Have you just figured that out?"
Careful of the still wet paint, he placed the canvas in the back seat of his truck, and everything else in the foot well.
"Need a hand getting in?" He looked smug as fuck.
"I'm going to leave a puddle on your seat," I said with my eyes narrowed.
"Good." He strode over to me, scooped me up and placed me on the seat before fixing my seatbelt into place. "You look good like that." He patted the side of the car before closing the door and going back to get my chair.
"Where are we going?" I asked once we were back on the road. "There's going to be people at the other end of the zip line."
"Good, they can watch." He didn't seem even slightly concerned. "In case you hadn't noticed, I have a thing for that. Nothing wrong with it. There's an Internet full of people who like to be watched."
"This should probably be where I tell you that you won't have any trouble finding someone who also likes being watched," I said.
"But you're not going to because…why?" He slid a look over to me before turning his attention back to the road. "Let me guess, Leah fucking Kent has a thing for it too."
"I don't know what I have a thing for," I confessed. "I guess I don't hate this."
I nodded down toward my bound wrists. "Maybe even being half-naked on a public road." No one in the cars passing the other way could tell I was sitting there with a bare, saturated pussy. Watching them fly past was strangely arousing.
"I don't hate it either," he said.
"Shouldn't you be sitting with your pants off?" I reasoned.
"Probably," he agreed. "Next time. You can suck me off while I drive."
"On a mountain road? That sounds dangerous," I said without thinking. "Wait, I just remembered who I'm talking to. Of course that's something you'd do."
"Without doubt." He slowed the car and took the bend. "I'm getting hard thinking about it." The growing tent in the front of his jeans was evidence of that.
"Is there anything you wouldn't do?" I asked.
"I wouldn't eat pig brains." He grimaced. "Or cockroaches. Or those hundred-year-old egg things. I prefer a rush of adrenaline, not a rush of vomit."
I snort-laughed. "That's something we can agree on. I prefer a technicolour canvas to a technicolour yawn."
"This conversation is making my cock deflate," he said.
"We should talk about something else." I shifted in my seat, glad the cover was comfortable against my bare ass.
"Better yet, we don't talk at all." He slowed the car and turned into the car park beside the buses.
