Meanwhile... A Drive to Desire (Kate's POV)

I stared at the limo driver through the open partition, watching him shift uncomfortably in his seat, eyes fixed on the road like it was the only thing keeping him sane. “I didn’t see anything,” he muttered, voice cracking just enough to betray him.

I moved closer, sliding across the leather until I was right behind him, close enough that he could feel my presence. My heart was racing, skin still buzzing from the red-carpet kiss, from the way Joe’s hand had rested on my lower back, like he owned me. That kiss had been more than a stunt. It had been heat. Desire. And permission; permission I’d seen in Emily’s eyes when she watched us, in Iris’s hungry gaze when she’d followed them out.

“But you heard them?” I pressed, voice low, almost teasing.

He swallowed hard, cheeks flushing deeper. “Yeah… those ladies weren’t very quiet.”

Ladies. Plural. My pussy clenched at the word. Joe had made both of them moan in the back of this very limo; Emily and Iris, tangled together, his hands on them, their bodies writhing. The thought sent a fresh rush of wetness between my thighs.

I glanced toward the backseat. The leather was still warm where they’d been. A dark, unmistakable wet spot stained the seat; shiny, glistening under the passing streetlights. One of them had come hard, soaking through whatever they were wearing. Maybe both. Maybe Joe had fingered them while they kissed, or maybe Iris had ridden his cock while Emily sucked on her neck. The possibilities spun through my mind like wildfire.

I smiled slowly, wickedly.

“Take me back to the hotel,” I told him, sliding back into the seat and crossing my legs. The motion rubbed my swollen clit against the fabric of my gown, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure up my spine.

Before he could pull away, I leaned forward again. “Tell no one else about this. Understand?”

He nodded quickly, eyes wide in the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am.”

The partition slid shut with a soft click.

Alone now, I let my head fall back against the leather. My hand slipped between my legs almost without thought; fingers pressing against the damp of my sex, rubbing slow circles over my clit. I was soaked. Had been since the red carpet. Since Joe’s tongue slid against mine, since I felt him harden against my hip, since I whispered that filthy line about him fucking me right there on the carpet.

I hadn’t been joking.

I wanted it. Badly.

Images flooded me: Joe pinning me against the limo seat, dress hiked up, thick cock slamming into me while Emily and Iris watched; touching themselves, touching me. Iris’s tongue on my clit while Joe fucked me deep. Emily straddling my face, grinding her wet pussy against my mouth while Joe took turns between us.

My fingers slipped, sliding through my slick folds, circling my entrance before pushing inside. I moaned softly, hips rocking against my hand. The driver could probably hear me; fuck it. Let him listen. Let him know what Joe did to women.

I thrust two fingers deeper, curling them, imagining Joe’s cock stretching me instead. My thumb worked my clit in tight, fast circles. My free hand slipped under my dress, cupping one breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to make me gasp.

I was close; already so close; just from the thought of them. From the wet spot on the seat. From the knowledge that right now, in a hotel room not far away, Joe was likely fucking both of them senseless.

I came hard; back arching, thighs clamping around my hand, a low, throaty moan spilling from my lips as my pussy clenched and fluttered around my fingers. Wetness coated my hand, dripping onto the leather. I rode it out, slow and shuddering, until the aftershocks faded.

Then I straightened, licked my fingers, tasting myself, imagining tasting them, then fixed my dress.

The limo was almost to the hotel.

I'd made up my mind. I was going to their room.

To confirm what I already knew.

Or to join them; and find out exactly how deep Joe could fuck.