The world outside is a blur of neon and heat, streetlights flickering across the windshield as Rafe’s truck cuts through the dark like a predator with a purpose. Music thumps low through the speakers — your song, the one he always plays when you’re next to him. The vibe is heavy, electric, like something sinful is about to happen.

His right hand rests on your thigh, thumb dragging lazy circles… until his knuckles slide higher and higher, brushing the hem of your skirt.

You bite your lip. He smirks without even looking at you.

“Don’t start,” he warns, voice low, rough. “Not unless you want me to pull over and ruin you.”

But that’s exactly what you want.

The song shifts, your breath catching softly as the lyrics drift through the cabin:

“I’m your shotgun, baby, for the long run Don’t you know I’d die for you? I ride for you…”

Rafe glances at you now — really looks. Danger in his eyes. Possession. A promise and a threat.

“Yeah,” he mutters, squeezing your thigh. “You’re my shotgun girl.”

You lean back into his leather seat, playing the part perfectly, your voice a soft tease:

“Baby, come with me… I can sit pretty… on your famous leather seats…”

Rafe’s hand froze. “Say that again.”

You dragged your nails up his arm, slow. “I said I sit pretty for you.”

That’s all it takes.

He jerks the wheel, pulling the truck into a shadowed overlook where the city glows below. The second the engine cuts, he’s on you — hand around your throat, thumb pressed to the underside of your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Pretty girl wants attention?” he murmurs. “Or do you just like driving me insane?”

Your breath shakes. His thumb strokes your pulse.

“I like when you lose control over me,” you whisper.

A growl vibrates in his chest.

His lips crash onto yours, hot and hungry, kissing you like he’s starved. Your legs spread automatically and he drags you into his lap with a rough yank, your skirt riding up as you straddle him.

His fingertips glide up the inside of your thighs — exactly in time with the lyric echoing through the speakers:

“Up and down my thighs (uh, uh-uh, uh) I’m your favorite fantasy…”