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"I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we can solve that problem before hitting the road," Gretel suggests.
As tension and a hint of romance fill the air, the night takes an unexpected turn, their escapade evolving into something deeper and more intimate.
Abigail feels her blood simmer between her legs as Gretel leans over, slipping a hand between her knees to find the lever that adjusts the seat, pushing it back as far as it goes. Within seconds, Gretel straddles her, kissing her passionately. Abigail, accustomed to having absolute control over every aspect of her life, freezes momentarily, letting Gretel take the lead in this eager kiss that leaves them both breathless. After that fleeting moment, Abigail's hands explore Gretel's thighs, massaging them intensely before settling on her hips, pulling her closer.
"I guess you've never had sex in a stolen car," Gretel gasps, completely surrendered.
"No, at least not that I knew of," Abigail replies, a smile playing on her lips.
Gretel swiftly removes her sweater in a single motion, and Abigail thinks about how foolish her husband is to let go of a woman like her. Placing her hands at the hem of Gretel's shirt, she pulls it up, revealing a black lace bra that elegantly envelops her breasts, captivating Abigail.
She traces the curve of Gretel's breasts with a finger in a slow, electrifying path that quickens Gretel's pulse. In turn, Gretel unbuttons Abigail's shirt, something she's been yearning to do all night. As she finishes with the last button, she pulls the shirt out of her pants, her hungry gaze fixed on the executive's breasts. It's the hunger of someone who has never been with a woman but is eager to explore every inch of her skin until satisfied.
Abigail captures Gretel's face, guiding it back to her lips, deepening a kiss that she has complete control over – the culprit behind every pore on Gretel's skin tingling and the surge of excitement spreading like spilled water throughout her being.
"Touch me," Gretel implores, feeling herself unraveling with desire.
Gretel seizes Abigail's hand, guiding it between her legs until it rests on her sex.
Abigail envelops it entirely with her palm, and Gretel feels the warmth scorching through the fabric. Unable to tear herself away from those lips that suck and savor hers, she begins unbuttoning her pants with an otherworldly need to have Abigail inside her. She can't recall ever being so heated, not with Pol or any other man she had been with before him.
"Wait a second," Abigail requests, breaking the kiss to Gretel's despair.
Abigail places a hand on Gretel's waist, using the other to find the button or lever to recline the seat. At that moment, the passing headlights reflect in the rearview mirror, catching both of their attention. With hearts racing, they turn to see a police car pulling into the gas station to refuel.
"Damn it," Gretel hisses, breathless. "What do we do?"
Abigail thinks quickly, understanding that a car parked in the darkness might attract police curiosity. She knows this from her student days when her father lent her the car, and she went to secluded spots with her girlfriend for privacy. They were often caught by patrols, requiring them to identify themselves. Now, it's not an option.
"Dress up; we need to act normal," Abigail says, starting the engine and fastening her seatbelt as Gretel awkwardly returns to her seat.
Adjusting the seat to the right position, Abigail deftly buttons her shirt, leaving Gretel wide-eyed at her skill and steady hand.
"What if we leave it here and walk away?" Gretel suggests nervously.
"And what then? Walk along the road hitchhiking? Call a cab to pick us up at a gas station in the middle of nowhere? That would draw attention," Abigail retorts.
"Good Lord, you're right. I'm just so nervous."
Gretel refrains from mentioning that after a heated moment like the one she just had, it'll take a while for her to regain composure and think clearly. She is increasingly impressed and envious of Abigail's composure. Abigail starts driving slowly to traverse the gas station on the far side of the store.
"The lights, the lights!" Gretel exclaims hysterically when she realizes Abigail hasn't turned them on.
"Damn it," Abigail exclaims, nerves taking over as she mistakenly hits the windshield wipers instead of the lights, a powerful stream of water flooding the glass while the wipers dance back and forth. "Where the hell is it?" she mutters just as they pass by the police.
Gretel succumbs to a fit of laughter, the kind where you laugh to keep from crying. Abigail finally switches on the lights, merging back onto the road, both knowing their hearts could leap out of their mouths any moment. Then, Abigail catches the contagious laughter, and they burst into hysterics. Rolling down the windows, they scream at the top of their lungs, releasing all the pent-up adrenaline.
When they roll them back up, laughter still echoes. They're aware of the wrongdoing but revel in the rebellion they've never experienced before. Gretel leans in, planting a cheek-kiss before settling back into her seat, satisfaction written all over her face.
Chapter 5
"You know what I feel like doing now?" Gretel confesses calmly, gazing out the window.
"What?"
"Continuing what we started. We could park the car somewhere safe, get a taxi to a hotel."
"You're right," Abigail responds. "I haven't seen that complete lingerie set yet, and that's a crime."
