Pump First, Clean Second

"Gas first," Chloe announced, grabbing the nozzle with a defiant toss of her hair. "Get the boring part out of the way so I can really focus on making that glass sparkle for you."

She jammed the nozzle into the tank and squeezed the handle. The cold metal bit into her palm, and the wind whipped around her bare legs, but she refused to shiver. Instead, she leaned back against the side of the car, popping her hip out.

"Enjoying the view?" she called out, her voice pitching up, breathy and bold.

Ethan rolled down the window an inch. "It's alright. A little stiff. Loosen up, babe. If you're gonna be naked, own it."

That was the spark. Her competitive streak flared, mixing dangerously with the heat already pooling between her legs. *Own it? Fine.*

She shifted, arching her back until her breasts thrust forward, pale and perky in the fluorescent light. She ran a hand down her own side, tracing the curve of her waist, her fingers lingering near the top of her thigh. She caught Ethan’s eyes tracking the movement, saw his jaw tighten. *Got you.*

By the time the tank clicked full, she was practically preening. The cold was forgotten, replaced by a buzzing, electric arousal. She was wet, slickly so, and the knowledge that she was doing this—naked, outdoors, for him—was intoxicating.

"Tank's full," she chirped, replacing the nozzle. She grabbed the squeegee from the bucket, dripping soapy water onto the concrete. "Now for the main event."

She didn't just lean over the hood. She *climbed* it.

Chloe planted one knee on the bumper, then the other, crawling up the sleek metal until she was on all fours right in front of the windshield. The cold steel against her shins made her gasp, but the heat inside her was blazing. She began to scrub, putting her whole body into it—swaying her hips, dipping her chest low so her breasts dangled tantalizingly close to the glass.

Inside the car, Ethan was transfixed. His eyes were glued to her, dark and hungry. She paused mid-scrub, pointing a soapy finger directly at his lap, where a distinct tent had formed in his jeans.

"I see someone's enjoying the service," she teased, flashing him a wicked grin. She arched her back deeper, sticking her ass high in the air, practically presenting herself to the night. She felt powerful. She felt sexy. She felt—

Headlights swept over her.

A car pulled into the pump directly behind her. It was facing theirs, nose-to-nose with Ethan’s car, which meant…

Chloe froze. She was on her hands and knees on the hood, facing Ethan. Her ass was in the air. Her legs were spread. And directly behind her, perfectly positioned to stare right up the center of her pale, wet, exposed pussy, was a car full of strangers.

She couldn't see them—she was facing away—but she saw Ethan’s face. His eyes shifted from her to the car behind her. A slow, wide, devastating smile spread across his lips.

"Company's here," he mouthed.

The flush hit her like a physical blow. It started at her chest, a violent crimson tide that rushed up her neck and flooded her face. Her breath hitched, turning into a shallow, panicked wheeze. She could feel the heat radiating off her skin, a stark contrast to the night air.

Behind her, car doors opened. Voices—young, loud, male and female—spilled out.

"Whoa," a guy’s voice cracked, sounding stunned.

"Holy shit," a girl giggled, followed by a sharp intake of breath. "Check out the view!"

Chloe was paralyzed. She was arched, soapy, and completely open for inspection. She could feel the cool air on her inner thighs, could feel how wet she was, could feel their eyes boring into her most intimate places.