The Impala’s engine rumbling down the road filled your ears, and the scenic views outside should’ve been your focus, but the only damn thing you could focus on was Dean’s hand grasping your thigh as he drove with his other hand on the steering wheel. He kept glancing over to you, occasionally giving your thigh a gentle squeeze or rub, driving you crazy without knowing.

“Nice route isn’t it?”

His gravelly voice spoke. It was pretty early so he’d took you on a nice romantic morning drive.