My car sits alone at the far edge of the lot, windows completely frosted over from eight hours in the cold. White opacity, thick and perfect.

I glance around. Half-empty parking lot behind the strip mall. One flickering streetlight. A few cars clustered near the building. No one watching the frosted sedan gathering ice in the shadows.

My hand shakes as I unlock the door. I've been thinking about this since lunch, since that asshole customer made me smile through gritted teeth, since my boss dismissed me with a wave. I need this. Need to take something just for myself.

The interior is freezing. I slide in and pull the door shut, sealing myself inside this iced cocoon. I don't start the engine. I want the cold bite. I want the privacy these frosted windows give me.

I recline the seat. The whir sounds too loud. The leather is frigid against my back as I hook my thumbs into my jeans and panties, shoving both down to mid-thigh in one urgent pull.

Cold leather kisses my bare ass, and I gasp. Goosebumps race down my thighs, prickling across my skin. My breath fogs white in front of my face.

My blouse is already half-unbuttoned from tugging at it in the break room. I yank it down with my bra, the underwire catching beneath my breasts, lifting them, baring them to frigid air. My nipples tighten instantly, hard enough to ache.

I dig into my purse. The smooth cylinder finds my fingers immediately. Black lipstick vibrator, discreet enough to pass for makeup. I twist the base and it hums to life, soft and insistent.

I bring it to my mouth and lick the silicone tip, coating it with saliva. It needs to seal. The anticipation makes me throb. I'm already wet, have been since I crossed the parking lot, knowing what I planned to do out here where anyone could walk by.

I spread my thighs as much as the denim bunched around them allows. The vibrator travels down between my legs. First touch makes me buck, hips lifting off the seat. I position it carefully over my clit and press.

The seal catches.

"Fuck."

The suction pulls, rhythmic and perfect. Not just vibration but a tugging, sucking sensation that makes my toes curl inside my flats. My free hand moves to my breast, fingers finding my nipple, pinching and rolling. The sharp pleasure drags a whimper from my throat.

Cold air. Warm pulse between my legs. The contrast spirals through me.
I let my eyes fall closed, head tipping back against the headrest. The frosted windows hide me completely. I'm invisible. Safe. I can be as loud as I want out here.

My hips roll, grinding against the toy. My breath comes faster, each exhale fogging in quick bursts. I pinch my nipple harder, twist it, and moan at the bite of sensation. My other hand presses the vibrator more firmly, and the suction intensifies, pulling at my clit in waves.

"Oh god, oh god."

The tension coils tight in my belly. My thighs start to shake. I abandon my breast to brace against the door, needing leverage, needing more pressure. The toy hums its steady promise. The cold air bites my skin while heat builds between my legs.

The orgasm slams through me.

My back arches. A cry breaks into ragged sobs. The suction doesn't stop, doesn't ease, pulling wave after wave from my clenching cunt. My hand spasms against the door. My thighs clamp around the vibrator, trapping it, and still it sucks and buzzes until I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel the relentless pull of pleasure.

Finally, I thumb the base. The motor dies.

I slump in my seat, chest heaving, thighs trembling. Sweat slicks my skin despite the cold. I feel wrung out, loose, perfect.

I open my eyes.

And freeze.

On the driver's side window, traced in frost by someone's finger, is a heart. Perfect and deliberate.

And in its center, a lipstick kiss. A perfect, crimson print of lips pressed to the glass from the outside. My brain stuttered, refusing the shape, the meaning.

"What the fuck?"

I bolt upright, breasts still bare, jeans still bunched around my thighs. I twist to look out the back window, pressing my face close to the frost. Movement. There. A shape, a car rolling past behind me.

But the frost is too thick.

All I can see is a dark blob, headlights dimmed, sliding toward the exit. I press harder against the window, desperate, but the frost betrays me. No make. No model. No color. Just the suggestion of a vehicle disappearing into the night.

Someone was right there. Inches from the glass. Watching me touch myself, watching me come undone.

They drew a heart.

They kissed my window.

I look down at the vibrator still gripped in my shaking hand, then back at the kiss mark frosted onto the glass.

A low, unwelcome throb answered from between my legs.