The rhythmic vibration of the car had become a backdrop to the electric storm happening in the backseat. For more than five minutes, Randy had been fingering me with a relentless, driving pace that had me hovering on the very edge of sanity. The slick, wet sounds of his intrusion were masked only by the wind whistling past the windows and the low hum of the engine.

Suddenly, he stopped. The abrupt loss of contact made me gasp inwardly, and I was just about to whisper a protest when I felt him tap my butt twice.

It was a silent command, a signal that the game was changing. I understood...