Hannah Hargrave lay disheveled in the passenger seat, her eyes closed, still savoring the lingering aftertaste of the moment.
Harry Zachary lay on top of her, his breathing just as heavy.
With a fierce bite to his lower lip, he asked, "Am I better than Director Croft?"
...
Receiving no response, he pressed again, "Did it make you feel good?"
Hannah murmured a sound, unclear if it was a reply or a soft moan.
A smile curved at Harry Zachary's lips; he was very satisfied with Hannah Hargrave's performance today. At least she didn't call out Nicholas Croft's name again.
Neither of them rushed to tidy up their clothes, one lay in the passenger seat, the other leaned in the driver's seat trying to calm down.
A car passed by, the windows flashing, and Harry Zachary patted Hannah Hargrave's exposed rear, "Get up, let's talk business."
"Go ahead," Hannah didn't move, still lying with her eyes closed in the passenger seat.
