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I nodded and took a deep breath in. Step one had been a lot easier than I’d thought it would be. “Okay.”

He unlocked the doors for me to climb into his truck, and I threw my bag in the backseat as I waited for him. Less than five minutes later he was walking back out with a small gym bag in his hand. Tossing it in the back with mine, he climbed up front and cranked the engine.

“Now what?”

“Now . . . you drive south.”

“How far south?”

“About an hour and a half if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know when we need to exit.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he looked over his shoulder and backed out of the space without asking any more questions. My heart was racing as I waited for us to get on the freeway, and I had to grip my hands so I wouldn’t continue to fidget with them. If Eli noticed my anxiousness, he didn’t comment on it, and I tried to draw from his calm demeanor while simultaneously pumping myself up.

I could do this.

I could drive Eli crazy.

As soon as we were on the freeway and Eli wasn’t changing a bunch of lanes anymore, I blew out a deep breath and raised my hips, bringing my hands under my short skirt to grab my underwear.

“What—holy shit,” he breathed as I pulled them off and left them on the floorboard. “Pay, baby, what are you doing?”

“I had a reason for wearing this skirt, just not the one you were thinking.” My voice shook as I turned in the seat and brought one foot up to rest on the dashboard, the other on the leather of the seat.

Eli’s head quickly whipped back and forth between the freeway and where I was baring myself to him.

“You should focus on driving.”

“Kinda fucking hard, Paisley,” he gritted out.

“Language.”

He looked back at me and bit down on his lip, but I’m pretty sure I still heard a curse in there. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No. Like I said, you really should focus on driving.”

I sat there, completely exposed, and waited for almost twenty minutes before he finally relaxed his rigid frame and focused only on the freeway. Another couple minutes after that, I brought my hand down and ran my fingers along my wet lips; a gasp escaped my mouth when I did.

“You. Are. Not,” he growled, and looked over at me. His eyes widened before narrowing with what looked like anger. But I knew Eli enough to know that it was a frustration I was going to enjoy later. “Paisley.”

I circled my clit before going lower to tease my entrance, and Eli’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“I’m exiting the damn freeway.”

“If you do, you can’t touch me for the rest of the weekend. And I have this place through Sunday night. Jason talked with your boss, you have Monday off.”

He wasn’t looking at me, but his face fell as my words registered in his mind. “Evil. You are so evil.”

Removing my hand, I waited for over thirty minutes before he calmed down again, and when he did, I went right back to where I’d been. I moved my hips against my hand, circled my clit roughly, and pressed my fingers inside me. Each moan, each whimper, each gasp had Eli clenching the steering wheel harder and harder.

By the third time I was playing my little game with him, he’d sunk down in his seat. He was gripping at his hair with one hand for a few seconds while he focused on driving before allowing himself to look again and whispering, “Fuck!”

My movements quickened, and Eli must have noticed the change in my breaths, because his warning came through the truck loud and clear. “If you get yourself off, I can make this go a lot longer than two weeks, Paisley.”

I stopped abruptly. My breathing was ragged, and my body was aching for my climax.

“That’s my job,” he added. I started lowering my leg from the dashboard, and he shot me a look. “Don’t you dare.”

Now I was the one glaring. I’d wanted to be in control. How had he turned this around on me?

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