Hot Driver - S01 E76

Story 14 hours ago

Hot Driver - S01 E76

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 76

Ivy Fashion Empire – Ivory’s Office

Ivory had dismissed the afternoon board meeting twenty minutes early, unable to sit through another slide of quarterly projections when all she could think about was getting back to her office.

She pushed through her door, exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders — and found Duane already there, feet propped up on her desk, scrolling idly through his phone.

“You’re not supposed to have your feet on my desk,” she said, though she was already crossing the room toward him.

“You’re not supposed to look this tired,” he countered, standing to catch her the moment she reached him, lifting her clean off the ground.

She laughed, arms circling his neck, and he spun her once before tickling her sides mercilessly, her shrieking laughter filling the office until she managed to steal a quick kiss just to make him stop.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, “you’re capable of more than just stealing kisses.”

He kissed her properly then, deep and hungry, and she melted into it for several long moments before pulling back, breathless, chest heaving.

He didn’t stop. He chased her mouth again, devouring, until he felt the change in her breathing — too fast, too shallow — and broke away himself this time, brow furrowing with concern.

“You okay?”

She caressed his jaw gently. “I just get tired more easily right now. I’m on my period. It’ll last about five days.”

Duane’s face fell dramatically. “Wait. Are you telling me I don’t get to kiss and fûck you properly for FIVE DAYS?”

“You can still kiss me.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, pouting outright now. “I’m addicted, Ivory. This is cruel and unusual.”

She slapped his arm lightly, laughing. “You’ll survive.”

“Will I, though?”

“Come here,” she said instead, grabbing his hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

She led him through a series of hallways he’d never had reason to walk before, deep into a wing of the building he hadn’t known existed, and stopped finally in front of a heavy set of double doors, covering his eyes with both palms before pushing them open.

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.”

She dropped her hands.
Duane’s eyes went wide. An entire indoor pool stretched out before them, sunlight pouring through a glass ceiling, the water an impossible, glimmering blue.

“There’s a POOL in your office building?”

“Executive perk,” she said, smiling. “Barely anyone uses it. Now you know.”

He was already stripping off his outer layer, diving in within moments, and Ivory settled at the edge, kicking off her shoes and dipping her legs into the water while she watched him swim laps with clean, powerful strokes.

He’s really good at this, she thought, admiring the ease of his movement. Of course he is. Is there anything he’s not good at?

He surfaced eventually, swimming back toward her, and braced his arms on the tiled edge to press a light, lingering kiss to her lips.

His mouth trailed lower after that — down her throat, along her collarbone, over the curve of her chest, down toward her stomach — before his fingers found the edge of her undergarments and he suddenly, abruptly remembered.

He groaned, dropping his forehead against her thigh in defeat. “Periods,” he muttered, “are an absolute joykiller.”

Ivory laughed, threading her fingers through his wet hair. “Poor baby.”

“I’m serious. This is suffering.”

“You’ll live.” She kept playing idly with his hair, and after a moment, his mouth simply returned to her bøõbs instead, he took her nïpple in his mouth, content, for now, with what he could have.

A Police Station – Detention Wing

Hannah sat curled in the corner of her holding cell, knees drawn to her chest, quietly crying for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

They still hadn’t found the masked woman. Hannah had given every detail she could remember — voice, build, the particular cold precision of her instructions — but none of it had led anywhere yet, and the uncertainty of her own fate hung over her like a blade she couldn’t see coming.

In another wing entirely, Alice sat on a thin cot, silent tears sliding down her face, staring at nothing.

I just want to see her, she thought, arms wrapped around her own knees. Even once. Even if she screams at me. I just need to see that she’s alright.

She’d tried every connection she still possessed, every favor she could call in, and none of it had made the slightest difference. The story had gone too far, too public, too fast — even the governor’s office had commented on it now, the stolen child, the years of lies. There was no amount of money left that could quietly make this disappear.

A guard’s keys rattled against her cell door.

“You have a visitor.”

Curtis stood on the other side of the glass when she was brought through, eyes swollen and red, looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

“What did you do to her,” Alice demanded immediately, voice hoarse. “How did you two even meet, Curtis. Tell me right now.”

His face crumpled entirely. “We had something,” he said, voice cracking. “What a husband and wife would have. And it’s YOUR fault, Alice. If you’d just shown her to me sooner — if you hadn’t kept her from me her entire life—”

Alice’s hand flew to her mouth, horror dawning slow and complete.

“No,” she whispered. “No, Curtis, please tell me you didn’t—”

“She won’t eat,” Curtis said, ignoring her entirely, his own voice breaking apart. “She won’t talk to me. She’s locked herself away, Alice, and it’s because of what I— because of what we—”

“You infected her,” Alice said, the words tearing out of her in a strangled sob. “That’s how she got it. From you. Her own father.”

Curtis said nothing. He simply stood there, sobbing, offering no denial at all.

“TIME’S UP,” the guard called.

Alice was pulled back toward her cell, screaming his name, screaming questions that would never fully be answered, and the heavy door closed behind her with a finality that swallowed every last sound.