"Excuse me?" I said, raising a brow at Deen.

"You're excused," she replied with a giggle. The car lurched forward as the cop waved for our line to move. "Seriously though, isn't it my turn now?"

"Uh, your turn? That's news to me. Why are we taking turns here?" I had already won. There was no way I'd give her a chance to overturn it. It was one thing to indirectly assert dominance over Deen by controlling her body’s reactions. It was a whole 'nother thing to let her touch me. Not even touch, more like a full-on caress. Like fucking why the hell would I agree to that?

As much as I hated to admit it—and I definitely wasn't going to admit it to Deen—I wasn't completely sure I could keep myself in check if she'd massaged me as I did to her. I just might end up ripping her hand off.

"Yeah, we're taking turns," she insisted. Her cheeks were slightly red. She tried to make eye contact as she continued, "It was a challenge, right? You said it yourself. You challenged me. I resisted it and—"

"Resisted?" I cut in. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I did resist it," she smugly countered. "Now it's my turn to mess with you."

"Mess with me?" I said with a hesitant grin. "Can you change your phrasing?" Technically, Deen was right; she didn't cry out or stopped me when I was touching her. She was enjoying our little massage session, but I wasn't able to make her react like the time I poked her navel.

I only claimed victory, and that was only in my head, because she was visibly disappointed when I stopped. No way I’m going to tell her she liked it, and that’s why, in my eyes, I won.

"Hmm? Why?” Deen pointedly asked. “Anyway, stop delaying. It's my turn now. Same rules. I'm not going to do anything painful, so don't—"

"Hey! Wait a minute. We were interrupted by the cop so that didn't count!"

"If that's how you look at it, then you can have another go at me after my turn," she said with a mischievous smirk. "Have as many turns as you want. I don't mind. I only need one turn to win." She wiggled her fingers over my leg as if she was casting a spell on it. "So...do I start now?"

I didn't directly answer her but tried to change the topic. "The cops might check our car again and—"

"Erind, you should play fair. Or are you bullying me?" She stared at me with puppy dog eyes and continued in a high-pitched voice, mimicking a child's tone. "Erind is such a bully. She doesn't want to lose so she comes up with excuses. She just bullies me and pretends to win. Super unfair—"

"Fine!" She's so fucking pushy with this. Undoubtedly, she wasn't going to stop, and four hours of her nagging me about this would be hell. Better get this over with now to have my peace. "Go ahead," I said, stomping my left leg to make it clear I only begrudgingly agreed.

Deen gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes at her in exasperation. She faced forward again and continued to drive at a snail's pace. Her left hand was on the steering wheel. "Time to win," she said in a singsong way. And then she placed her right hand on my left knee.

Yeah, right. I concentrated on my breathing.

Inhale and exhale. Slow breaths.

Be in a zen state. I should be like a martial arts master meditating under a waterfall. I wasn’t going to let her win this.

Deen began to rub my knee as she hummed in tune with the music on the radio.

This isn't so bad, I thought. I abhorred physical contact, but I had gotten used to Deen specifically. And after massaging her leg, I somehow found it less repulsive that she was now touching me.

She slowly inched up my knee. My shorts covered my entire upper leg above it.

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While the two of us wore casual clothes, she still managed to look like a goddess while I looked like a random teenager out to walk the neighbor's dog to earn some extra income over the summer.

Deen snuck her fingers under the lining at the end of my shorts and suddenly pulled it as high up my leg as she could.

You bitch! I clenched my jaws and stopped myself from inhaling sharply. Her hand ended up hitting my crotch—I fought back the reflex to close my legs—and lingered there for a second before moving away.

She's trying real hard to surprise me, I thought with amusement. Not a peep escaped my lips as she walked her fingers over my bare pale skin, going back down to my knee. Then she wrapped her fingers around my leg—which she could easily do given how long her fingers were and how thin my leg was—and began to rub it up and down.

Are you jacking off my leg? was my intended snarky quip. And that was what it seemed like Deen was doing. But that sounded too crass for the Erind face she knew. Instead, I said, “Are you trying to start a fire with friction?”

“Just warming up my best friend,” she enigmatically replied.

I mulled over what I could do to break her momentum. She was quickly escalating her actions. I looked down.

Deen's fingers were slender and beautiful like it was expertly sculpted. Her nails were neatly trimmed and coated with only clear polish. I couldn't recall if I had ever seen her with colored nails. Like what I did to her, she tried scratching my legs, gradually reaching around to my inner thigh.

With her long arm, she didn't need to shift in her seat and lean toward me. She continued to nonchalantly drive as her hand made its way up my leg.

What if she continues this all the way through? And by all the way through, I meant reaching into my shorts. She wasn't going to fucking dare try that, would she? I wouldn't do that to her. And I didn't—I stopped myself right before that point during my turn. That was too much if it was only to prove a point.

But I knew just how competitive Deen could get, especially with her personality. I only hoped she'd stop soon.

I gave her a sidelong glance, checking her to gauge her plan. She had let her hair fall down the front of her body, covering the right side of her face with a golden curtain. I couldn't guess what expression she was hiding on the other side of her hair.

Deen's hand was now right up to my crotch, pressing against the fabric of my shorts. It was starting to get ticklish. My stomach was in knots. She wasn't even pretending to massage my leg anymore. Her arm rested on my lap while her fingers wandered my groin area. I could feel myself getting hotter. Would she feel it too?

This fucking bitch! I raged inside my head. It took every fiber of control in my body not to elbow Deen—although, her Guardian Angel would probably warn her of that.

I was in a dilemma. If I stopped her, I'd lose. But if I let her continue...

Was she seriously going to continue with this? How far would she go?

As if to answer my question, Deen pushed aside my shorts and wiggled her fingers inside to reach between my legs.

"Deen!" I immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand up. I barely stopped myself from twisting her arm.

She was laughing her head off as I glared at her.

Should I break her bones? I really, really wanted to do it after what she did. But that would make me look like a shitty, petty loser. And I also didn't want to reveal just how much she affected me. I let go of her hand.

"What?" she said as she wiped a tear from the side of her eye.

"That was..."

"That was what? Are you admitting defeat?"

"No. Just that we should stop." I played it off like nothing happened, slumping down in my seat as I smoothened my shorts. "I think you're going too far." My cheeks were warm. I was sure I was blushing, so I turned to face the window on my side.

“Too far?” She could barely hold her giggle.

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Okay then,” she said. Surprised that she didn’t press me about what I meant, I faced her despite myself blushing. She had a smug and satisfied smile on her face. "My turn is over. So, it's your turn now," she said with a playful tilt of her head, her golden hair bouncing a bit.

"My turn?" I frowned.

"Yeah. Earlier, you said you weren't finished touching me because the cop interrupted us. So...it's your turn."

"Um, how about we just drive in peace and harmony?" I realized now that there was no way I could win in this situation. To beat her, I had to put my hand in her shorts. Unlike me, I doubted if she'd try to stop me from doing that. And if she wouldn't do anything...what would I do next?

"Then you're admitting you lost?"

Am I seriously going to touch her crotch with my fingers? "Sure, whatever," I grumbled. "I'm going to sleep. Just wake me up when we're at the checkpoint."

"Too bad…” She sighed. Then she perked up. "But that means I win!"