totalwildcard | Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

Harley snorted, loudly, but the particular curve of her lips said she just barely held back a laugh.

"Oh, tough shit, huh? Charming."

It was, actually.

"If I had a nickel for every time I've been called that..." Marc said, letting the sentence trail off.

He also started to use his fingers to draw light circles on the back of Harley's neck.

The shiver that ensued was both predictable and a delight.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harley drawles, "you'd have a bunch of money and it would all be fake 'cause that's what sarcasm gets ya."

"It's fake when it's sarcasm?" Marc asked. "Well shit. Guess I didn't actually pay for dinner."

"I dunno," Harley retorted, "did ya use your 'charming' bucks?"

"I was supposed to pay attention when you're talking about dessert?" Marc replied.

"Well, you were supposed to pay attention to the important stuff," Harley replied, and would you look at that, the hand closest to him was momentarily free to pat his thigh, "which by the sound of it, ya did."

"I'm told I can be pretty focused with the right motivation," Marc said

The word was intense but six of one, half dozen of another.

"I've noticed!" She had some fond memories of it already, in fact. "And I would say I can be pretty good at providing motivation."

Which of course had nothing at all to do with the way her fingers oh so idly danced up his thigh.

"Not bad at multitasking either," Marc said. He didn't move away from her touch since that would be rude. Or something.

He also kept circling his fingers along the back of her neck.

"I'm never really focused on just one thing, anyway," Harley said, while her hand ran out of thigh and slid over the front of his pants, instead, lightly, "so might as well make it work for me, right?"

And then less lightly. Hey, she could always use a refresher on the shape of him.

"Or other people, on a rare occasion."

Marc shifted into that touch. He wasn't the one who needed to focus on driving after all.

"Working pretty well so far."

He didn't mean her ability to multitask. Well, not directly that.

"Thank you," Harley said, with just a hint of smugness. A sprinkling! Her hand grew bolder, cupped him more, with more pressure. Finesse wasn't going to happen, for obvious reasons, but...

It was far from her first time getting handsy like this.

"See, 'cause I can be nice."

This counted, right?

It did as far as Marc was concerned. And was so much easier compared to hand holding (which of course had never happened, right? Right.)

He shifted position so she could have better access. "Generous too."

Harley threw him a brief smirk. For the words, sure, but the way he shifted, too. Always good to get an invitation to keep going.

"See, 'cause I also play fair sometimes." And since she'd been invited and provided more space, she could get her hand in a slightly better position. Finding a good angle and the right spot to offer a little circular rub with her thumb, through the fabric. "I know I'll get a little, so I can give a little."

Long as it didn't get in the way of her driving, Marc had no problem with her continuing. He did try to balance it by keeping the movement of his fingers on the back of her neck fairly steady. He figured there was probably only so many distractions even Harley could handle without him throwing changes to what he was doing into the mix.

Besides, maybe he was distracted a little bit here. Harley was good with her hands after all. Which naturally got Marc thinking about other things she was good at. Which reflected in the heat in his eyes when he looked at her.

If anything, it may have been helping Harley's driving by keeping her occupied and thus safe from other potential distractions the squirrels in her brain might have otherwise latched onto? So one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing a rise out of him seemed to be working.

She caught the way he was looking at her, and laughed.

"Oh, you're thinking dessert."

Marc was tempted to reject that word too, in the name of his occasional forays into being vexing. But that well felt like it had run dry so instead he went with, "Your fault." Since it was.

And did he really want to vex someone with her hand on his junk, anyway?

"Blame I will accept happily."

"Blame, credit, close call," Marc said. He moved his hand to cup the back of her neck in more of a massage. That wasn't too distracting for driving, right?

If anything, it was contributing to Harley's desire to get them back to the island quicker. Which, considering she was already taking the fastest route she knew instead of the 'looking for a good place to eat' meander of the way out, she was already well on her way to accomplishing.

Also her own hand could find ways to be a little more insistent in return.

"All of the above," she sighed.

Marc had no problem with the speed.

For the car. Other things could take their time. But those were more enjoyable when there was more room to move around in.

Not that he'd fully ruled out the back seat before dinner...

"Kind of a theme with you," Marc said. This was said as a compliment. "Being all of the above."

Would've been silly of him to rule out something he hadn't tried yet, anyway!

"Anything else would be boring," Harley declared, her good mood bolstered by the drive and the reactions under her hand enough to be comfortable being all happily smug about herself. "Keeps things interestin', doncha think?"

Harley could be very smug about herself as far as Marc's reactions were concerned.

Also Marc himself but shhhh.

"You're not boring, that's for sure," Marc said.

Still a compliment.

"Betcha say that to all the gals with their hand on your dick," Harley quipped.

Or at least was in the process of quipping when she spotted something up ahead that caught some of her attention.

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