I should have never told her to wear something pretty.
I can’t stop staring at her and really, I should be concentrating on the road. But I can’t. Not with the way she sits beside me, every movement sends a rustling sound through the car and fuck me, I’m jealous of her clothes.
That can’t be normal. But still, I am. I want to be the one wrapped around her warm, soft flesh like the silky fabric she’s wearing.
Goddamn, the woman is a siren. I breathe in her sweet scent and I want to groan.
Giselle is everywhere. Filling every corner of my brain.
And I like it.
I like it a lot.
She looks so goddamn good.
Sexy.
Hot.
Utterly fuckable.
If I thought she looked good before, Little Doll is setting records tonight.
She’s all decked out in a skintight black skirt that ends just above her knees, and I wonder how the fuck she can even sit down in the thing.
Her blouse is cut obscenely low, sheer black with little diamond sparkles everywhere, so she glitters whenever she moves.