Ah, this'll do nicely! I think as I take out a black tank top with a white skull printed on the front. Pulling it over my head, it falls to mid thigh, just exposing the tops of my red lacy stockings. The armholes are huge, gaping down to my waist and flashing my lace corset, but it'll do. “Better?” I ask Ash, an eyebrow raised. “Marginally,” he quips back, nostrils flared and turning to face the front once again. “Not fucking better,” I hear Jax grunt from the driver's seat.
