She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 374: Disbelief

Inside the Audi, premium leather surrounded a grave-like hush that smothered everything.

Howard gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles drained of color. His stare locked like a beam on the silver vehicle weaving through the dusk in front of them.

Reason told him to head back. A stunning, eager woman occupied the passenger seat beside him, and a room at the city's most private hotel stood reserved and ready.

Yet jealousy stabbed his stomach like a razor-edged splinter, cutting deeper than his lust for Siobhan.

He needed answers. Was his suspicion groundless, or had the elusive Tisha Wells truly ended up with that scoundrel?

Then there was Heena too. Was she really only a handy driver, or hid a bigger scheme... a hidden stab in the back unfolding right before him? The doubt acted like a toxin he kept swallowing.

In the passenger seat, Siobhan felt her polished look turn fragile and ridiculous. The new lipstick seemed like a disguise; the fixed collar like a chain.

She eyed Howard's sharp outline... the tense twitch in his jaw muscle and the empty shadows in his gaze... a chill of real fear crept over her.

"Howard?" she tried softly, her tone tiny, her fingers lightly touching his sleeve. "Is everything... alright? You're driving kind of... "

"Be quiet, woman," Howard barked. His eyes stayed forward. The command hit like a whip crack.

Siobhan jerked back, yanking her hand away as though his suit fabric scorched her. She clamped her lips shut right away, long-trained submission sealing them, though inside, fury started to simmer.

’What the hell is up with this guy?’

Just twenty minutes earlier, he'd devoured her kisses like she was the world's sole woman. Vowing her wine, silk sheets, endless passion.

Now here she sat, ordered silent as he pursued some stranger's vehicle through traffic like a mad cab driver.

’Just like always. Teetering on the brink. One second he's the perfect prince, the next he's raging like his wife's been snatched.’

That idea drew a muffled snort from her, one she hid with her palm.

She peered at the silver car once more. Whatever pair rode inside, Sterling chased them with laser focus she'd witnessed only in his work and his seductions.

She pictured the night he'd dangled before her. The silken robe packed in a box she'd dreamed of since he brought it up. A languid, lavish evening where she could imagine, briefly, being Howard Sterling's one and only.

But now she tagged along in a frantic tailing mission, clueless and unexplained.

’Maybe dump this jerk?’ she pondered, glaring at his stiff silhouette.

’I didn't get all dolled up to assist a creep. If he's fixated on that car's occupants, perhaps I need a guy who truly appreciates me.’

The idea rose with weary recognition. She'd entertained it previously... often after he ditched dates with no reason, or nights his phone lit up with forbidden names.

Yet it never progressed. It merely hovered, settled, and stilled.

For he excelled at it. When inclined. When desire hit and fate conspired without rival women easing his endless cravings... he turned caring, lavish, and utterly masterful between sheets.

Not to mention the presents. The lavish meals. The getaways. How he made her feel, in those sparse bursts of attention, like every room's queen.

It sufficed.

The vehicle lurched as Sterling cornered sharply, tires screeching on pavement.

"Jesus, Howard—" she began.

"Why the hell are they taking this route?" Sterling growled between gritted teeth, squinting as the silver car's blinker flashed and it veered left into a narrower lane.

Siobhan tracked the car vanishing around the bend. Her annoyance twisted toward real worry.

’Who rides in that vehicle?’

She held her tongue. One silencing had been enough; Siobhan never pleaded twice for notice.

Sterling yanked the wheel left, pursuing onto the narrower path.

The Audi's shocks complained as sleek pavement roughened, the initial pothole jolting like a gunshot alert.

Up ahead, the silver car's taillights glowed crimson in shadows... then blinked out beyond the next curve.

Sterling stomped the gas harder.

***

Heena clutched the wheel until her knuckles blanched, staring down the bumpy Garrison Avenue that rattled the vehicle to pieces.

Then came the sound.

A faint, pressing murmur from behind, slicing past the motor's roar and shaking struts like a knife through fine cloth.

Tisha speaking, but raw, stripped of all the cool poise Heena linked to her.

"Alex... I’m so horny right now. I can’t... I can’t think."

Heena's ears sharpened. Her breath halted halfway.

For a dizzying instant, she swore she'd caught it wrong... convinced the bumps, engine hum, and her fevered mind had twisted a harmless whisper into filth.

Her gaze flicked to the mirror. Automatic. Unstoppable. Despite her logic yelling to ignore it.

Tisha's features hovered close to Alex's. Her fist bunched his shirt. Eyes shut, lips ajar, form bowed toward him like a plummeting figure clutching the last anchor.

Then the worst pothole hit... and Tisha's lips claimed his.

Not shy. Not by chance. A fierce, ravenous clash from a woman who'd dropped all facades minutes back and now embraced desire's wild cost.

Heena's grip locked on the wheel.

Her eyes bulged... not feigned shock of spotting awkwardness. Pure, dilated horror as her view of Tisha shattered live.

The car veered a foot wide. Tires grazed the edge gravel till Heena's reflexes snapped the wheel straight.

Her pulse hammered her chest. Heat scorched her cheeks.

The path hazed and cleared repeatedly as her mind juggled driving straight and digesting Tisha Wells—the frosty icon—devouring a student in her own backseat with passion dwarfing Heena's steamiest reads.

"Eyes on the road, Heena," Tisha called from rear... winded, broken, utterly unashamed. "If you’re done with the show."

Heena's jaw locked till her teeth throbbed.

No words escaped her.

She couldn't utter them.

She squeezed the wheel, fixed ahead, and pressed on... as Tisha's gasps echoed through the space like a secret not meant for her ears.

***

Back there, existence narrowed to them two amid shadows.

Tisha yanked him close once the ride leveled, nails snagging his collar, hauling his lips to hers in raw need that hid nothing more.

The kiss turned sloppy, wide, unpolished... born when tension snaps after ages, skill lost first in yielding.

Alex's palm glided along her leg... measured, intent, fingertips skirting her skirt's edge before slipping under. It climbed, finding only smooth, wet flesh.

He parted lips barely, murmuring to her mouth.

"No panties." His tone rumbled deep, laced with wicked humor. "Already prepared. Such a dirty professor."

His digit plunged in abruptly.

"Ahh—" Tisha's neck whipped back, back bowing from cushion, cry bursting free. Her palm grabbed his wrist... not halting, but clinging amid the rush.

"I’m always ready for my dear student," she gasped, tone splintered, gaze foggy. "Whenever he needs me."

Up front, Heena squeezed her thighs till her joints hurt.

She locked eyes ahead. On pavement. On lines. On whatever dodged the mirror and the noises flooding from behind like her hidden shelf's wildest scenes.

’Shameless. Adulterous. Disgusting.’

Those terms looped in her skull like a chant to silence her flesh's insistent preachings.

Her peaks poked her bra stiffly, throbbing. Warmth gathered deep inside... thicker, fiercer than any tale's spark.

Her stories stayed tame. Bound. Pages she could shut.

This unfolded mere feet away. Tangible. Soaked. Pulsing.

And her form ignored her thoughts entirely.