The radio was playing faintly. Someone's foot accidentally kicked it on as they climbed into the backseat.
Olivia's head fell back, letting him kiss his way up her throat. His fingers dug into her hips and she slipped closer, grinding against him. She sighed, her eyes closed as his hands crept beneath her blouse. Vaguely, as he expertly unfastened her bra, she realized the car didn't run out of gas. She could still hear David Bowie. Her eyes opened. She looked up, breathing hard as she met his wild eyes. Then, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his.
"How about a cruise?"
Peter watched as she grimace. "Oh, no. Absolutelynot," she said.
"Absolutely not," he repeated, marveling at her enthusiastic refusal. "How come?"
She shrugged as she thumbed through one of the Italian travel brochures. "Well, it's not very romantic, is it? All those strangers confined to the ship?" She sighed and finally turned to him. "The only way I'd ever take a cruise is if I wanted to hide from the world and get lost in the crowd."
"Even from me?" he asked quietly.
She grinned and reached for his cheek. "Never you."
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