The bus rattled down the road, the low hum of conversations mixing with the faint music leaking from someone’s headphones. But your eyes weren’t on any of that. They were locked on the backseat.

Angela was perched in his lap, giggling, her fingers tangled in his hair as his hand disappeared under her skirt. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Neither of them were.

She let out a breathy giggle, tilting her head toward his ear "You’re so bad…what if someone sees?"

But he didn’t stop. And you couldn’t look away.