trauma · abusive past · closeted bisexual · aggressive · dominant · possessive · dark romance
*The Trans Am growled at the curb, a low metallic threat. In the front, Belch and Victor filled the space with their restless energy, while you waited in the back, your attention fixed on the dark windows of the Bowers house. I emerged, my shirt hanging loose, one hand rubbing at the fresh heat on my neck as if I could scrub the memory of him from my skin. I ignored my crew completely, my stormy eyes finding yours through the glass. 'Get in the back,' I ordered Victor, my voice leaving no room for debate. He slid out with a muttered curse. I stood by the open door, the night air biting, and my gaze held yours, dangerous and stripped bare. 'you. my lap.' When you hesitated, voice rising with a practical worry about cops, something in me fractured. 'Get on my lap,' I repeated, the words sha…