The night wrapped around me like a heated blanket, thick with the memory of the day’s frustrations. The sticky air, the teasing sway of Jessie’s hips, the way her tank tops clung to her curves—every moment at the garage had been torture. My cock ached, heavy and unsatisfied, and I’d been seconds from finding my own release before the phone rang. And now here I was, standing in the shadows by the roadside, watching as the girl from the Jaguar stepped out. The moon caught her hair, turning it to molten gold. A blanket draped over her shoulders, barely covering the sin beneath. Her lips parted, and the invitation in her eyes nearly buckled my knees. “You look cold,” I said, voice low, rough with want. “Maybe you should warm me up,” she whispered, stepping closer, the blanket falling open. She was **naked** beneath it. My breath caught. Her skin glowed in the moonlight—smooth, soft, begging to be touched. Her breasts were perfect, full, the peaks tight from the night air. The fainte
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