Oregon Driver Manual

"Hank, there's something hard down there pushing into me." On the driving school car, I was teaching my goddaughter how to drive by letting her sit on my lap, my hands over hers on the wheel. But right after we started, the engine stalled, and the whole car jerked hard. Her round hips settled deep into my thighs. To make things even more intense, she was wearing nothing but a skirt that barely covered her.

"Coach, please stop. I came here to learn how to drive, not to have an affair." Inside the instructor's car, because I kept failing to control the clutch, Coach Reeves, who happened to be my husband's friend, made me sit on his lap to teach me. The problem was, I was wearing a short skirt that day, and underneath it, I wasn't even wearing safety shorts. Even worse, he actually pulled his member out and pressed it straight against me.

When the hospital director called me for the tenth time, I was still stuck in traffic on the winding mountain road leading into the city. A pink Polo driving inexcusably slow was wedged in the middle of two lanes and obstructing my path. The "New Driver" sticker on the rear of the car seemed to insult me. I took a deep breath before slamming on the horn. That was when the car jerked to a stop. A man in a floral shirt stepped out of the car, marched to my car, and pounded on my window. "What's with the rush?! Can't you tell by the sticker that I'm a new driver? If you cause an accident, you're going to have to pay up!" I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that veins bulged on the back of my hand. The director's desperate cries were still echoing in my ears, "Dr. Leigh, the boy is dying! The only information we have is that his father's name is Ronald Baker!" Upon noting my silence, the man smiled smugly before smacking the hood of my car. "Go ahead, drive over the barrier to bypass me if you want! Even the police have to slow down for me!" With that, he slammed his brand-new driver's license against my window. "Look closely, I just got my license yesterday! I'm a legal driver!" I quickly glossed over the driver's license. What stood out to me was his name printed on the license. Ronald Baker.

He wasn’t supposed to be more than her driver. Just a man in a black car. Quiet. Controlled. Off-limits. But when Seraphina caught Cassian in a moment, high and vulnerable, one he thought no one would ever see, his secret… everything changed. Desire turned dangerous. Obsession turned mutual. And soon, every ride home felt like a slow, deliberate sin. What Seraphina doesn’t know is that Cassian isn’t who he says he is. Beneath the tailored suit and cool detachment hides a billionaire built on vengeance, a man who came to destroy her family for what they did to his. He meant to use her. To ruin her. But somewhere between the lies and the touch of her lips, he forgot which role he was playing, the driver, the lover, or the executioner. Now the secret that binds them could destroy them both. Because the deeper she falls for him, the closer she comes to uncovering the truth he’ll do anything to keep buried. And when love becomes the weapon, no one gets out clean.

Every time my driver, Jason, sent me to the office, he brought his girlfriend along. Since we were all headed in the same direction, I never made a fuss. However, one morning, I opened the car door to see a note taped to my usual seat. [No freeloaders allowed in this car!] I tore the note off and turned to Jason. “What's this supposed to mean?!”

I worked overtime until the early morning hours and called my driver to pick me up. She frowned the entire ride. "You go home so late every night, and you always have me pick you up. You have no consideration for others." I found her comment baffling. "Wasn't all of this made clear when I hired you? The job requires you to be available at all times, and your salary is generous." "What exactly are you trying to say?" Chloe Morrison's tone turned reproachful and condescending. "I'm concerned about you, obviously. What good man goes home at dawn every day? You're probably fooling around outside. A man should conduct himself properly. You should get off work earlier and go home to do housework and cook. That's how you win a girl over." Her words irritated me, and my tone turned sharp. "Ms. Morrison, you're just a driver. You're not anyone to me. Don't overstep."