“Sloane.” His voice is authoritative, and that’s “The Daddy” voice, I decide. There’s a switch that gets flicked and he goes from quiet, aloof Jasper to that. Whatever the voice is, it catapults me into action. My boots are already off, and I pull away the soft thermal socks, dropping them in the footwell before lifting my heavy wool sweater’s hem and peeling the black leggings from my body. His eyes stay on the road, but when I go to discard my panties, he says, “No, those stay.”
