You’ve never had it rough, have you, Princess?
The potential made me feel giddy.
I’d thought the answer to the problem of the internet thinking I wasn’t tempting enough for a man to behave badly over me was to become sexier, but I was realizing now I didn’t even have to do that. I could just imply I was a hot commodity.
Mike climbed in his truck and we waved goodbye to his dad. I watched with assessing eyes as he took the vehicle out of park and started the engine. It had nothing to do with his sexy, craggy Glambot hands. Not at all. I was framing content. Just content.
“Can I video you changing gears?” I asked as we drove onto the main road.
“Why?”
“It’s a passenger princess thing.”
“A what?”
“You know. Gorgeous, gorgeous girls get driven around. They have perfect nails on fingers they never lift. Their partner does everything for them because they’re the princess.”
“Okay …” he said slowly, and he seemed to take his time changing gear as he thought. “So it’s nothing to do with how you can’t stop staring at my hands?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “And no I wasn’t. This is just about content.”
The sound he made in his throat said he was unconvinced, but once we pulled onto the main road, which we’d be on for about twenty minutes before getting back home to Woodville, he agreed that I could film him.
“Just my hands. Not my face, and no crotch shots.”
“I wasn’t going to?—”
“Because if it’s dick pics you’re after, I want better lighting.”
“Calm down, Mike,” I said, trying to sound wry instead of flustered. “I promise not to take pictures of your dick and post them on the internet.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, just don’t post them for free. No free feet and no free peen, capisce?”
“Capisce.”
He was still wearing his little white rugby shorts, and he drove with his legs splayed. We might joke, but there was genuinely a chance that if I looked for it, I would be able to see the outline of his dick.
I had to stop trying to see it. That way lay danger.
“Okay, start your camera,” Mike said.
He didn’t need to tell me twice.
This was for content purposes, I told myself. Not perving, just content.
If I kept telling myself that, it might start to feel true.
CHAPTER 10
LYSSA
Carefully, I framed my shot over the center console and waited until Mike needed to change gears. His hands moved quickly and efficiently over the stick shift.
The passenger princesses were right. This was sexy as hell.
“Stop licking your lips.”
“I’m not,” I protested.
