"Hot car," Franky Doyle said as she slid down into the leather seat. She looked across at Bridget. Her expression knowing and her green eyes alight with amusement.
"Yours?" She added after a moment.
Bridget laughed and she looked away briefly before her eyes were drawn inevitably back to her dark haired companion.
Franky looked so different in civvies without her tattoos and underwear brazenly on display. "Yes, it's mine," she admitted, still smiling.
Franky's eyebrows went up and she nodded. "I'm impressed, Gidget," she admitted slowly, her eyes taking in the luxury interior.
After a moment her eyes returned to Bridget, who was watching her reaction. "Let's get out of here." She said suddenly.
Bridget nodded and switched on the engine. "Where to?"
"As far the fuck away from here as possible," Franky responded half flippant, half serious.
"Okay then," Bridget swung the convertible into a tight u-turn.
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