...

°Deanne's POV °
6:45 P. M.

Nothing mi hate like people who like to be seen.

And this woman beside me is the definition of 'waah everybody see mi'.

From the bus drive off she nuh rest her mouth, nor the man ears.

Wah can go so?

And him a the next one too. Sick stomach.

Instead him tell the gyal shut up mek him focus on the road, him a entertain her and her fool-fool chatting.

"Hey, the bus dem a run bad tonight yussi, and a not even Friday. If yuh nuh rush, yuh get knock," she says, shuffling in her seat, her big ole ass forcing to fit in the tight space between the driver's seat and the other girl, sitting on the cushion beside her.

Driva acknowledges her statement with a low hum, picking at his beard. "A di traffic man. The man dem affi cut early if dem waa beat it go up, and it hard fi reach back a Treez."

The woman——Trish, I heard him call her ——sighs, leaning closer to him, resting her elbow on the back of his seat and turning her head so she can see the road before her. "Rahtid, as mi say that, mi cyaan believe yuh drive weh left mi this mornin'."

"Eeeh? Weh yuh did deh?"

"As mi reach the lane mouth a the bus that mi see buss the corner and gone. Yuh waa see mi a wave it dung, but not even Perry neva look like him see mi."

"A weh the rass yawh say. And yuh waa know say a long time we park up before we drive off eno. We did a tek too long fi load, and the bwoy Perry suggested we run the road," Driva replies, his tone light.

"And a bruck mi a bruck mi neck a come say mi late eno. Oh gosh, man. If uno did just wait likkle bit..."

Driva smirks, his eyes fleeting to her briefly before settling back on the road ahead. "Yuh mother never tell yuh say time and bus wait for no one?"

Trish giggles, the sound grating on my nerves. "Next time yuh haffi wait fi mi. Yuh too tan bad! Mi all nearly miss work."

So because the man drive weh leff yuh, yuh nearly miss work, lady?

Yuh know say sometimes mi wonder...

"That's why yuh fi mek Such Man ease up likkle and go a yuh bed a night time," he says, smiling. "The bus has a schedule to keep."

Trish swats at his arm. "Tappi yawh! Mi n'ave not a soul...!"

"So every woman say. Cyaaa trick mi wid that."

No! Why Driva really inna long-cocky chattings wid this gyal though God?

The scrawny gyal——alright, she nuh scrawny...but still—— giggles and blushes, and I internally roll my eyes.

He takes in her reaction then shakes his head saying, "Same t'ing."

My brows furrow and the grip on the phone in my hand tightens. A wah really a keep yasso?

Mi cyaan believe this man a entertain this gyal so easily.

"Mi nuh have nobody fi true-true, Dada. Mi woulda tell yuh the truth. Don't make it look so, man."

He hums, pulling forward the lever for the gearstick so the bus stops behind the long line of traffic by the Constant Spring Tax Office. "If yuh say so."

"Alright, at least gi mi yuh number then," the woman suggests, after a moment of silence passes between them. She clears her throat when she probably realises how desperate that makes her sound. Then adds, "So mi can know where di bus deh a morning time."

Eeeh?

A weh yuh nawh say?

If him ever...!

A yasso this likkle crush weh mi seem fi a develop done.

Oh.

Driva chuckles. "Mind eno. Yuh sure yuh only want it fi di bus schedule?"

The whole world can see say this gyal a look a man. Stop act like yuh blind.

Before mi affi juck yuh inna yuh yeye and blind yuh rass fi real.

"Maybe," she says playfully, her hand casually brushing his arm. "Or maybe mi just want fi keep in touch wid mi favourite driver."

Oh?

My blood boils.

Him really a give her all this attention? And mi deh right yasso? Weh the fuck this?

So wah him call mi pon him bus fa then? Fi rub this dutty front gyal inna mi face?

Seriously?

My heart races. Mi can't stand this.

But I quickly control my emotions. After all, I'm not his woman, so I shouldn't be this affected by what he does and who he does it with.

My stomach churns with a feeling I can't quite describe.

Pretending to be absorbed in my phone, I listen intently, each word twisting my insides, regardless.

While he hasn't looked at me directly, I notice how his eyes keep finding mine in the mirror ev'ry now and again.

It’s like him want mi fi react, or sum'n.

Likkle shit pit.

"Yuh full a tricks, Trish," Driva says, shaking his head. His eyes find mine in the mirror again and I fix him with a nasty glare. He chuckles. "But mi nuh waa people tek mi three points."

"Watchya, who fi tek yuh three points, Dada?" she asks, as if surprised by his response.

Tha gyal yah likkle bit and desperate eeh. How she dweet?

"Mi just can't afford fi di bus leff mi tomorrow again," she adds when he doesn't acknowledge her question.

So wait! A one bus deh pon the government road?

Awah this man!

"Just come pon the main by six-thirty and yuh good." He goes back to being serious.

Mrrr.

A good.

"Alright. But if yuh drive leff mi, mi ago rass yuh wid sum'n."

Driva laughs, and I roll my eyes.

Kikikiki...shut up man!

Hissing my teeth below my breath, I tune them out, click out of TikTok and go on Instagram.

Him nah pay mi any mind, yet mi can feel his eyes on me. Stop watch mi and watch yuh gyal beside yuh, sir!

Pretending I don't notice, I click on Main Dangers and laugh as I read the first captioned video .

"Schoolaz," Driva's voice suddenly cuts through, making my heart skip a beat.

"Hmm?" I pull my right AirPod out, furrowing my brows.

He chuckles at my reaction. Then leans forward so he can see me properly. "How yuh look so space out? Sorry fi frighten yuh."

"Mi good," I reply, trying to sound casual. "Awah?"

"A beg mi a beg yuh wipe off dah mirror deh fimi please. See the chamois deh pon the dashboard."

Mek yuh gyal do it.

Mi look like yuh servant?

I fix him with a look. "How mi ago do that?"

"Just push yuh hand through the window and rub it likkle."

Come dweet yuhself.

Mi nawh work wid yuh.

And mi nuh like yuh again. Matter-of-fact.

Sighing, I pick up the red chamois cloth from the dashboard and slide the window open.

I can feel both his and the eyes of the  girl beside me, on me. Awah?

Inhaling a shaky breath, I wipe the little smudge from the mirror, push the window back into place and toss the cloth back where I got it from.

All waa gwaan, him just did waa say sum'n to mi eno, because noth'n never do the blasted mirror.

At the thought, my eyes meet his and a sensation travels throughout my body. As a ripe yam ready fi the picking.

He discreetly shoots me a wink before saying, "Thanks."

I hum, going back to my phone.

Tha bus yah need fi hurry up and reach Spring, 'cause mi ready fi gaa mi yaad!

In my peripheral, I see Trish, who had been watching the entire exchange with a smirk, lean closer to Driva.

“Why yawh work out the people dem pickney?” I hear her say, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Pickney?" I mutter under my breath, feeling my blood boil. "OK then..."

Driva chuckles, possibly picking up on the tension. “Nah man, noth'n like that. Mi just beg her do a one easy maths, yuzeet.”

I grit my teeth and force myself to stay calm, ignoring Trish’s smug expression.

The bus jolts, as he suddenly hits the brakes, avoiding a collision with a car which takes a sharp turn at the intersection by the station, and I grab onto the little handle thingie by the window to steady myself. Oi! Yuh better focus pon di road and stop pay attention to tha man mascot yah. Oh.

"Ask Perry fi do it and stop bother the girl."

I look at her, fighting the urge to tell her 'bout her parts. I give her a sweet smile. "It's OK, I didn't mind."

“Interesting. Are you always so helpful?” Trish asks, her tone sly, eyes narrowing as she looks at me.

Wah yawh try get at gyal?

I meet her gaze, my expression flat. “Only when mi haffi be.”

“Lucky you, Dada,” Trish continues, turning to Tyrone, ignoring my response. “Like yuh always have the girl dem ready to do your bidding.”

Yuh know wah...

Before Driva can respond, I slip my AirPod back in, turning up the volume. The frigging bus can’t get to Spring fast enough.

Because if mi affi siddung yasso and listen to this bitch for any longer, mi might end up disrespect mi uniform tonight .

I swear!

.                               .                            .

The bus rolls into the chaos of the Constant Spring bus park, and I couldn’t get off fast enough.

My heart is pounding with a mix of anger and something I don’t want to admit.

Driva pulls the bus to a stop, his eyes darting to me, as if trying to read my mood.

I've been silent the entire ride, so I know it's bothering him. Yuh fucka yuh.

The 'ductor announces its final stop, and the passengers hurriedly get up and file out.

Twisting my body around, I stare behind me at the now emptied bus. I'm the only one in it. Weh di piece a shit and him 'ductor gone leff mi?

My frown deepens as I contiune to stare into nothingness. That's until the presence of someone at my window draws my attention back to it.

It's Driva.

"Yo, yuh good?" His voice is smooth, but I can hear a hint of worry.

Him mussi a wonder why mi face swell up so. Mi nuh business.

"Mi alright," I snap, staring straight ahead, before fixing him with a pointed look. His laugh, and that woman's flirtatious touches on his arm, replay in my mind, making my blood boil. All over again.

He recoils, at my tone, his face hardening. "Watchya nuh, a wah gwaan?"

"Yuh ready?" I ask, ignoring his question. But before he can respond, I grab my bag and climb over the cushion to get off the bus.

As I step outside, I walk off, barely waiting for him.

Ask mi if mi know weh mi ago! But mi nuh care.

If mi did ever know if taxi run from yasso go Parkland, mi tek sum'n go a mi yard.

Oh.

The air outside is tense and thick, matching my mood.

As his legs are longer, Driva quickly catches up to me, his presence annoyingly comforting.

I roll my eyes at the thought.

"Yo, wah this fa?" he asks, reaching out. I shrug him off, my lips drawn into a pout.

My heart pounds against my temples.

"Wah what fa? Yuh figot already?" I fix him with a glare. Again! "Listen, mi nuh know wah yuh think of mi when yuh see mi eno, sir, but whatever it is, try think sum'n else."

Driva quirks a brow, narrowing his eyes as he looks down at my face. "Wah mi do?"

Look ya nuh, likkle bwoy...!

"Yuh never see how yuh did a flirt up wid di gyal pon di bus?" My voice is sharp. Since yuh waa mi fi spell it out. I scoff. Yuh know how humiliating that was?

Mi know mi sound jealous, but mi nuh business. Mi damn jealous! And upset —— him fi get it.

"Is not like dat, Schoolaz. She was jus' a regular passenger. A just so she stay, yuh cyaa too put her pon yuh head, yuzimi," he says, his tone serious.

I scoff, walking faster. "Yeah right. Yuh t'ink mi blind?"

Driva halts in his tracks, letting me get a few steps ahead, before calling out, "Hear wah, yuh hungry? Lemme buy yuh sum'n fi eat and mek we wul a medz."

"I'm not hungry." Don't sorry fi mi...!

I look behind me to see him bite his lower lip, narrowing his eyes.

Hissing my teeth, I turn back around and continue walking towards the secluded spot up the road from the bus stop. The place is brimming with people. Noisy bad.

My blasted stomach growls, betraying me. Regardless, I stop and turn slowly, my glare still in place. "Food cyaan fix everything, Dada."

I think this is the first I'm addressing him by his street name.

He moves closer, gripping my arm to keep me in place, his eyes locked on mine. "Hey, easy nuh."

"Go hard or go home." Yuh neva hear?

"Jah Jah." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "B, just hear ma' say nuh."

Nyam shit!

"Yuh nuh want the food?"

Despite myself, I sigh, feeling my resolve weaken. Wanga gut. "Fine. But only because mi hungry and it nuh look like mi ago reach home fi tonight."

Driva's face visibly relaxes and that cocky grin returns. He pulls his pants to his waist. "Good. Ago link Jerkie. Yuh like Jerk?"

Wordlessly, I nod.

"Ah. Forwud den nuh."

With my resting bitch face activated, I walk beside him to a jerk chicken stand nearby, the smell of spices and smoke filling the air.

My mouth salivates. A long time mi nuh eat a good piece a jerk chicken.

Driva orders for us, and we move back to where the bus is parked, to find a quieter spot to sit. His idea.

As we eat, the tension between us slowly eases, until we're left in comfortable silence.

I blush each time he steals a glance at me.

At some point, Driva leans in, his eyes dark and intense. "About earlier, mi nuh waa you a pree mi nuh way yuzimi. It wasn't any disrespect to you or anything. Was just being polite with a customer. Never mean fi put yuh pon spot."

I look up, meeting his gaze with a challenging raise of my brow. "That's fine, I guess. I just don't like feeling like I'm being played. So don't let it happen again."

How yuh mean, mi gyal! Set yuh thing straight yawh.

He chuckles so lowly it sounds like a grunt. He then nods. "Roger that."

My lips spread into a smug smile as I stare at him while he eats. Yeah, gyal, a so yuh fi put bwoy under subdue. Puuurd.

As if he feels me looking at him, he lifts his head and meets my gaze.

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the air between us thick with tension.

Sexual?

I don't know.

I just know it feels intoxicating, pulling me in despite my better judgment.

Trouble.

▪️▫️▫️

8:10 P.M.

The street lights cast a warm glow through the windows of Driva's Range Rover as he navigates the streets of Kingston.

It's late, at least past rush hour, so the road is practically empty.

From where I'm sitting in the front passenger seat, I smooth out my uniform skirt which is slightly rumpled from the long day. My heart is beating a nervous pattern in my chest.

The air inside the car feels charged, every breath I take filled with anticipation.

Why am I so nervous?

"So," Dada says, after a few long, agonising minutes of silence, his voice smooth and deep, "how was school today?"

A when mi father reach yasso?

Chuckling at the thought, I glance at him, my eyes lingering on his strong jawline. He could pass for a model, honestly. He has the looks and the physique.

"It was fine," I answer softly, fidgeting with a stray away strand of hair, before tucking it behind my ear. My hair is in a big curly puff atop my head. "Just the usual."

He smirks, glancing over at me, then frowns. "Yuh good? Yuh look uncomfortable. Sum'n deh pon yuh mind?"

Feeling like I'm put on the spot, I hesitate, shying away under the sudden attention. I don't know why, as I'm usually very bold, but something about him heightens my nerves. I sigh. "Can I ask you something? No hard feelings or anything..."

Driva lifts an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Wah that?"

Clearing my throat, I adjust the seat belt and lean forward so I can look at his face. "Inna your line of work, yuh mussi get nuff woman, don't?"

Hear the lie now...

He goes silent for a while, making me quirk a brow, before saying, "A the situation with Trish make yawh ask that?"

Yes. My cheeks flush, prompting me to look away, in an effort to conceal it. "Nuh really, just...curious."

And a little jealous.

...OK, a lot jealous.

But yuh naffi know that.

"Curious about what?" he asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, his hands flexing around the steering wheel.

Lots of things...

I swallow hard, my eyes meeting his. "A so yuh act wid all of your female passengers?"

"No."

"OK then. So I guess you like her then?"

"What are you getting at?" I notice his grip on the wheel tighten.

I sigh. "Yuh know wah, forget it. It's not my place anyways."

"Nah, man, nuh bother wid that. Talk yuh mind." His tone is firm, sending goosebumps scampering all over my skin.

I shrug. "Mi just a try understand yuh. That's all."

"Wah yuh waa understand?"

"Are you a naturally flirtatious person?"

He looks at me, then back at the road. Then chuckles lowly. "Mi wouldn't say that."

"It's a 'yes' or 'no' question though..."

"OK then...no..."

I hum.

"And yuh nuh believe mi, don't it?"

"Mi hear yuh."

His face hardens. "Yuh affi hear mi, because mi a talk. But, do you believe me?"

"I'll take your word for it."

"Ah."

"Yeah..."

Another low chuckle leaves his lips, accompanied by a shake of his head.

Furrowing my brows, I ask, "Awah?"

He keeps his voice firm and deep when he goes, "Mi can tell say yuh nuh satisfied, so ask wah really deh pon yuh mind and stop go 'round corners."

Watchya! So yuh turn mind reader? OK, I see you...

I laugh. But it sounds nervous even to my own ears. "Alright, fine! Mi just curious fi know why you'd flirt with someone else when...when I'm right there. Brawling. In front a mi face...as smaddy weh yuh seem fi a look."

Since yuh waa mi heng it up pon light post.

"I wasn't flirting," he deadpans.

His nonchalance rubs me the wrong way.

Rolling my eyes, I scoff. "Oh please, sir! The blind man coulda see say uno did a flirt."

"Maybe Trish did a flirt, but I wasn't."

I fix him with a pointed stare. "OK then...! But you entertained her. Why?"

Driva's left hand leaves the steering wheel and brushes lightly against my right knee. "Maybe I was just trying to see if you'd react," he murmurs, holding my stare.

My breath hitches at his touch, but I decide to humour him. Just for kicks. "And did you get the reaction you wanted?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers slowly move, tracing small circles on my knee, sending shivers up my spine. My eyes follow the patterns.

"I think I did," he says, meeting my eyes yet again, his eyes darkening with desire.

I hiss my teeth in an effort to distract my thoughts and quell the urge which rises within me.

My reaction causes the lil drancro to chuckle. Just a skin him teeth so like when jack ass see ghost.

I look away.

Removing his hand, he leans back, and taps his fingers against the steering wheel.

A silence passes between the confined space between us, setting me on edge.

That's until the likkle big head bwoy breaks it saying, "You seem like the jealous type though. Are you?"

Jealousa than mi yuh cyaaa find.

"No."

He looks at me then smirks. "Say that again with a straight face."

Then why mi blush like an idiot?

I sigh, feeling like I'm caught redhanded. "Fine. Sometimes."

"Can appreciate that."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

Sir..."The jealous type."

"Which man nuh jealous?"

I laugh, feeling the nervousness slowly easing. "True. But some a dem love deny it."

"Any real man have dem woman and nuh get jealous ova dem, must either be a sissy, a user, or a batty bwoy."

Waiii! I giggle.

"But pon a serious medz, though," he says when I sober up, "Yuh n'ave noth'n fi worry 'bout wid mi and Trish."

Maybe not her, but someone else?

I push the thought away as it surfaces.

"But you're aware she likes you, right?" I give him the look.

"Big woman thing, a from mi come pon the road, she a look mi. But she's just not my type, yuzeet. Ev'ry mornin' she tek the bus, she siddung beside me pon the front and ever a drop some hints. But mi nuh too bring her go nor come, 'cause mi know a jus she that, yuzimi.

"Mi realize her approach towards yuh did bitchy from Treez, but mi just did a think it was harmless female competition. 'Til she address yuh inna the bus. Mi know the card she did a play wid the number thing, that's why mi nuh entertain her, yuh get mi. Jah know. All mi can say is that she mussi see say mi attracted to you, that's why she a try stake her claim. But nuh too pay her nuh mind. She alright."

You're attracted to me?

Of all he says, that's all my mind focuses on.

My pulse quickens. "Driva..."

"Who?" He frowns, ripping the butterflies out of my belly.

The heat rushes to my cheeks. "Sorry...Tyrone."

"Wul on deh, man!" he shakes his head. "Wah yuh just call mi, 'while ago?"

Mi shame! I feel embarrassed! Lowering my head, I fold my quivering lips then mumble saying, "I said 'Driva'. It was just a silly nickname I gave you when I didn't know your name. Like you did with me and 'Schoolaz'."

At my explanation, his shoulders relax then shrug. "Ah. Fair enough."

I cover my mouth and turn to look through the window.

"And she's back to her shell..."

His comments makes me smile. "I don't have anything else sensible to talk about."

"You can literally talk about anything you want. I don't mind. I love hearing your voice."

Aww!

Watch blushings ova yasso!

Pretending I'm unaffected by words, I laugh. "Careful eno. Mind yuh start mi up and cyaa stop mi."

"Try me."

"Aite...Mr Big shot. Let me see," I comb through my imaginary beard. I can feel Driva's eyes on me, anticipating my question. A small smile quirks his lips. AWWW. "OK, mi ago start small."

He smirks. "Shoot."

"How old are you?" I glance out the window just as he turns onto my avenue. Bringing my attention back to him, I add, "Since you know my age, I need to know yours."

His Adams Apple moves as he swallows. Sexy! "How old do I look to you?"

I resist the urge to blush, counteracting his question with an amused, "A question can't answer a question, sir."

"Humour me."

"Fine." I sigh. Narrowing my eyes, I study his face, for the first time, taking all his features into my memory. "Hmm...probably...twenty-three, twenty-two...?"

You can tell he's in his early twenties. Although, he could be older but has good genes.

He smiles, his dimples showing. "Twenty-four."

Mi almost get it eno! "I was close!"

He holds back his grin. "But you were wrong."

"Gimme half-mark then...!"

"Nope."

I hiss my teeth. "How yuh stay so?"

"I'm being realistic. Yuh think yuh can write wrong answer pon paper gi' CAPE and tell them gi' yuh half-mark?"

Folding my hands across my chest, I frown. "This isn't CAPE."

"It might as well be. It's equally as important."

Caught off guard by his comment, I burst out laughing. Then hiss my teeth. "Shut the fuck up."

The words leave my lips before I can stop them. I blush.

"Schoolaz?" Driva grips at his neck, as if clutching his imaginary pearls. "Such lewd words. I'm flabbergasted."

A waan dead.

But, hear deh!

Big words.

Raaaayyyy!

"Yuh sound like yuh guh good school," I tease. "Which school yuh used to go?"

"Are you doing an exposé on my life, young lady?"

Hear ya! I laugh. Then abruptly stop. "You said I could ask anything."

"True. But some things we affi leave up to time."

"Hmm. Whatever."

Pulling over to a stop at my gate, Tyrone parks, and rests his hand against my thigh, just above my knee. The heat settles where he touches, shooting warm sprouts throughout my body.

He gives me that smile. "Next question..."

My eyes linger on his hand on my thigh. Inhaling a sharp breath, I try to ignore the tingles between my legs, thinking up something else to ask. But the questions seem to be lost in translation. I sigh deeply then admit that, "I'm trying to think of another one, but I can't focus when you're doing that."

Brow quirked, voice husky, the nasty face man narrows his eyes. "Doing what?"

Like you don't know...

"That...!" I motion with my head to his hand which slowly moves higher up my thigh.

My brain feels fried.

Just as he reaches the hem on my skirt, he stops and looks me in the eye. As if asking for my consent.

I bite down on my lower lip, whimpering softly under the effects of the sensation caused by his hand on my skin.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice comes as a low rumble, filled with an emotion I can't identify.

I inhale a deep breath, gathering my thoughts which are all over the place.

The street lights are on, but where we're parked, the place is dark. Plus, the car is heavily tinted where it matters. So no one can see us. Unless they come up to the windscreen and peer inside.

That thought puts my mind at ease.

"I don't want to be just another girl you flirt with. Nor lead on."

"Is that another question?"

"It's a statement."

Driva's hand slides higher, his touch firm yet gentle. "Well, I can't make you what you don't want to be," he says, his eyes locking onto mine. "But, then, you'd need to tell me what you really want, Deanne."

The sound of my name rolling off his tongue, coupled with the feel of his skin on mine, send shivers up my spine.

My heart pounds in my chest, the air between us thick with undeniably sexual tension. "I'm not sure what I want yet," I confess, my voice trembling with emotion. "I just know I don't want to be toyed with. I'm not a child."

Driva's grip on my knee tightens slightly, his gaze intense. "Then show me," he whispers. "Show me that you're not just a lil schoolgirl with a crush. Show me you're a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to take it."

I press my legs together to ease the tension which quickly builds between my legs. I don't know what has come over me, but I welcome the feeling.

"Alright."

Without thinking, I unbuckle my seat belt and climb over the console and onto his lap, straddling his legs.

Driva's eyes go wide for a quick second, before he regains his composure, smirks and pulls the lever up, making the seat recline a bit.

The sudden movement of the seat, causes me to lean in, my lips hovering inches away from his.

From zero to one-fucking-hundred.

I stare at them. So pink. So plump. So suckable.

Reaching up, Driva tucks the same loose strand of hair behind my ear once more. Goosebumps clothe my skin.

"I want to kiss you," I tell him, my voice filled with a newfound confidence. For real this time.

Driva's breath mingles with mine, the tension between us palpable. "Then do it," he whispers back, his lips brushing against mine, in a featherlike caress.

In the moment, everything around us seems to disappear, leaving only the feel of our bodies on each other, and the primal desire that hangs heavy in the air.

I can't say how we got here, but I don't care to investigate. Instead, I close the gap, my lips pressing against his with a hunger I'd never felt before.

A moan slips past my lips as I feel his hand slide up my thigh, his fingers digging into my skin, igniting a fire that spreads throughout my entire body.

Every touch feels electric.

I can feel the raw desire radiating from the man beneath me, matching my own.

His right hand brushes against my panty-cladded clit, sending a tingly sensation up to my brain, while his other hand finds its way to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss.

Tyrone——I need to stop calling him Driva—— places the pad of his thumb on the sensative bud, stays still for a few seconds, then starts to move his thumb in circles.

Jeezam!

Instinctively, I start moving, rocking my hips back and forth, relishing the feel of the instant tent in his jeans.

The night is dark outside, the light is off in the car, and the AC is set on the right temperature. The mood is set, and the soft R&B playing in the background adds the cherry on top.

The sound of Tyrone's grunts surround us, mixing with my moans to form a perfect blend.

I love this!

Despite myself, I quickly get lost in him, in the way he's making me feel——like I'm the only person in the world who matters. At least, in this moment.

"Deanne," he groans against my lips, his voice thick with need.

It's a silent question. One I interpret immediately.

"Yes," I whisper in his ear, my hands tangling in his hair. "Yes..."

It's been more than a year since I've felt like this.

And in this moment, nothing else exists but us.

Not his age.

Not his flirtatious ways.

Not the question of whether or not he has a woman——that's the question I was gonna ask earlier. But it can wait.

For now, the lines between right and wrong blur.

And, before you come at me, I know I'm playing with fire, but I don't care.

All I want is him.

And I'm willing to risk it.

Just like that.

Lifting my hips, I allow him room to shift my tong. I'm not wearing any tights today.

He does.

Keeping his eyes locked with mine.

He bites down on his lower lip, scooting further down, so his hand isn't trapped between my legs anymore.

I watch with intense anticipation, as he unbuckles his belt and shoves his pants and underpants down with one hand.

Am I really doing this? I briefly wonder, but I bury the thought as quickly as it comes.

That same hand then passes between us to caress my clit yet again.

Tyrone releases his hold on my neck, reach over and opens the glove compartment, pulling out a pack of condoms.

I quirk a brow. He keeps condoms in his car?

Why?

My body goes rigid at the thought of him taking other women home and doing the same thing to them that he's doing to me, right now.

Tyrone must've sensed my unease, as he kisses my shoulder, saying, "Relax."

That one word is all it takes to bring my whole world tumbling down.

It triggers an alarm in my head, and I crash back onto earth.

The haze of lust clears from my eyes, and I immediately panic.

"Hey, awah?" Tyrone asks, his mouth hanging open in shock at the look on my face.

I shuffle off of him, and back into my seat, picking up my bag and rag which had fallen to the floor earlier.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this..."

My voice trembles as I struggle to get myself together.

"What? Why?"

"I just can't..."

He goes dead silent.

I can't bear to look at the man across from me, watching me intensely, as I make a mess of the situation.

When I gather the last of my things, I push open the door and hop out.
Sticking my head back in, I say, "Thanks for the ride home. But mi affi go een now."

He still doesn't say anything.

He just sits there, watching me.

Behind the shock and confusion, I can sense the hurt in his expression.

Regardless, I pull my grey skirt down, throw my bag over my shoulder and tunnel through the gate.

I don't look back until I'm inside my house.

I know Tyrone is taken aback by my reaction. He must have questions.

But I can't tame my heart rate enough to focus on that for long.

The door closes with a soft click, and I lean against it, sliding slowly to the floor.

Why did I allow myself to get so carried away?

Now the man will think I'm a freak or sum'n.

My mind reels.

I feel icky and gross.

The look on the man's face comes back to me and I sigh, feeling my lips quiver.

My heart feels like it's being crushed in my chest.

Try as I might, I can't shake the feeling which overtakes me

I've just ruined everything!

And just like that, the dam breaks and the waterfall rushes down my cheeks.

Sack a salt.

Sack a bloodclaat salt, mi a tell yuh bwoi!

Cho, bumboclaat man!