The next day, two figures were present in a large van filled with the buzz of electronics and the resentment from a certain woman with voluptuous curves.
Asher, demonstrating a cold, tactical demeanor, sat unorthodoxly atop Rebecca, using her as a makeshift chair as always.
He was beginning to realize that her curvy and soft back was ten times better than the most comfortable chair he had sat upon. It made him feel good in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Rebecca's face was flushed, not because of having to endure his weight on her back, but with anger due to constantly being humiliated like this whenever he got the chance.
No matter how many times he had done this already, it didn't make it any less bearable. It only kept reminding her how she was reduced to a fate worse than a street dog.
