cocky little smile blooming lazy and cruel across her mouth, sutton sinks back into the leather, her gaze never leaves the rearview mirror, watching the way his eyes keep catching hers and snapping away again. sugar and vodka still cling to her tongue, coke buzzing hot through her veins, blurring the edges of right and wrong until they barely exist at all. some would say she’s not thinking straight, but sutton’s never cared for straight lines anyway. she’s always preferred pressing where it was dangerous, and god, no one is gets more riled up faster than him. "i mean, fuck." she starts in a dreamy sigh. "the two of those guys were basically fucking me raw on the dance floor." she tilts her head back in pretend thought." if that bouncer hadn’t been so bitter i didn't let him feel me up after he checked my id.. who knows, i’d probably still be there. spread open. letting them have their fun." the image alone drags a low moan from her throat. she braces a palm against the seat, fingers skating up her own chest once, slow and deliberate, just to see what it does to him, before she laughs again and turns toward the window like none of it mattered. doesn't miss the way he takes the wrong term, and briefly does it cause a nervous churn inside her, but it flutters away nearly as fast as it came. they come to a stop, and sutton glances back over at older male, lips pouty as she leans over. "oh come on, dad... sorry, can i call you that? or do you prefer daddy? i don't really know the protocol on what to call the man fucking my mom and pretending to have any authority of me." words become a spiteful hiss before she's leaning back against the seat again, rolling her eyes. "christ, soren. just because you're in a fuckless marriage doesn't mean everyone else has to be miserable."