Twenty-Two: Our muses have sex in an unconventional place

“Clint,” Summer gasped. She held on — all she could do was hold on, legs wrapped around his waist, arms wrapped around his shoulders. He thrust into her, and there just wasn’t enough space for her to do much in return. She’d already hit the horn once, and only luck had saved them from Tony’s hearing it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be caught, exactly — but Clint making love to her in Tony’s hot rod probably wasn’t going to go over that well. With Tony, anyway. Summer was just fine with it.

Just /fine/.