Color Me with Desire

I don't kick up a fuss when Jasper Sutton's childhood sweetheart once again takes my spot in the front passenger seat. Instead, I obediently head to the backseat to sit with his good friend, Jonathan Clayton.

When we drive along a bumpy road, my knee brushes against Jonathan's toned thigh. I deliberately leave it there, and he doesn't move.

We stop for a break at a rest area. Jasper's childhood sweetheart clings to him as they head to the restroom. As soon as the door is shut, Jonathan grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss.

As I descend into the throes of passion, I can't help thinking it's no wonder people like to cheat.

When Jasper Sutton's childhood friend, Kimberly Jensen, once again took the passenger seat, I didn't argue or cause a scene.

I simply turned around and opened the back door—only to pause in surprise.

I didn't expect that Jonathan Clayton, someone as busy as he was, would join this short road trip.

After quickly regaining my composure, I nodded at him with reserved politeness.

Jonathan, wearing glasses and showing traces of fatigue on his face, lifted his eyelids to glance at me. He gave a slight nod in return before closing his eyes again.

While fastening her seatbelt, Kimberly glanced back at me smugly, raising an eyebrow. "Kathy, I get carsick, so I'm sitting in the front, okay?"

"Kimmy gets carsick. Be generous about it. Don't make a fuss over something so trivial all the time."

I let out a soft laugh. "Alright."

Jasper seemed a little surprised but didn't say anything more because Kimberly had already shoved a half-eaten piece of bread into his mouth.

"This tastes bad. Help me finish it, okay, Jazzy?"

Without even frowning, Jasper naturally ate the rest of the bread.

Kimberly glanced at me through the rearview mirror, sticking out her tongue playfully.

I ignored her and grabbed a bottle of soda, trying to open it. The cap was tight, and I still couldn't get it off after two attempts.

Up front, Kimberly was pouting as she handed her bottle to Jasper. "Jazzy, I really can't open it. You know I have no strength in my hands."

Jasper just looked at her dotingly before effortlessly opening the bottle for her.

Then, the two of them took turns sipping from it without the slightest intention of avoiding intimacy.

I felt a wave of nausea.

Just as I was about to set my bottle down, a man's hand suddenly reached over and took it from me.

Under the sleeve of a black casual suit, the cuff of a silver-gray shirt could be seen, neatly fitting around a slender wrist.

The hand was beautiful—long, defined fingers with nails trimmed short and clean.

His fingers looked like polished silver in the shifting light reflecting through the car window.

While I was still stunned, Jonathan had already twisted the cap open and handed the bottle back to me.

The car's