Naked Thrill. Jill Monroe

his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. Hard.

      Good. She didn’t want to be the only one battling against the collapse of common sense due to hot sexual vibes.

      “It’s probably the same story with hundreds of kids. I didn’t fit in. No one gave a shit at home. I was angry about everything for no reason and for a thousand reasons all at the same time. I’d been labeled a troublemaker back in high school.”

      His sigh was heavy, self-deprecating and yet indicating a distance from his old self in a way. Great. Hot, sexy and contradictory.

      “One day I ditched school and took my mother’s car.”

      “What did you do?” Although it probably made her sound like the biggest bore out of Boresville, she’d have no idea what to do if she stole a car. Try to hide it for later? Rob something else?

      “Just drove around with the music loud. I thought I was pretty damn cool, bucking the system and messing with my mom, until I sideswiped a car.”

      “Oh, no.”

      “Well, I was barely fifteen so it was bound to happen. I was arrested, but the cops only locked me in an interrogation room and played a bad-cop-badder-cop scenario, probably to try to scare me straight. But I was hell-bent on a path of destruction. They ran the plates and called my mom. I could hear her voice as she talked to the police officer. She asked if they had a jail cell. ‘Put him in it,’ she’d told them.”

      “Tough love.”

      “Just tough.” He rubbed his fingers along the stubble on his chin. A tell? That was the second time he’d made that gesture.

      “There are days when I actually feel sorry for my mom. Had to have been tough, pregnant at sixteen and dropping out of school. Her parents—I won’t even call them my grandparents—kicked her out of the house when she refused to put me up for adoption. My bio dad was off impregnating some other girl by the time I was born. My mom always had great intentions and even bigger illusions. I’m sure she was imagining I’d be that one bright spot in her life to give her unconditional love.”

      Hayden had always believed that to be the parents’ job. Her mom and dad had died young, but she’d always known they’d loved her. Same with Gran and Grandpa, who’d delayed their early retirement plans to raise her.

      “Instead she got a carbon copy of herself. Moody, defiant and forever rebellious. I actually think those cops felt bad as they locked me up.”

      “How long did you stay in there?”

      “Long enough to get a black eye from another inmate and to realize I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was, but that lesson didn’t stick. A few hours later, someone from Children’s Services came to take me to juvie.”

      She tried to imagine Tony as a scared teenager whose mother hadn’t loved him, and Hayden’s heart and emotions and everything girlie inside her began to soften and melt.

      Don’t. Don’t do it. You are not his rescuer who is going to show him true love and give him hope. He is not going to be a better man all because of the woman who sees past the tough, hard facade he’s erected to barricade his heart from the cold, unfeeling world.

      That dreamy scenario didn’t even work in movies anymore. She didn’t believe in others saving you. You saved yourself. Besides, he seemed to be doing just fine.

      “How long were you in juvie?”

      “A week and a half. I got probation and a promise that my record would be expunged if I kept my nose clean. Ha—that didn’t last long. My mother was ordered to take parenting classes that she attended drunk. So yeah, storybook family of the year we were not.”

      “What was your big turnaround then, because clearly you’re...”

      His eyes crinkled at the corners again. “What?”

      “Um.”

      “Hot? Funny? Sexy?”

      “Actually, I was going to say doing pretty okay.”

      “The word every man wants to hear from the woman who woke up naked beside him. Okay.”

      Hayden gave him a playful shrug. “Maybe if I’d had something to remember from last night...”

      “Whoa. You’re going to play it like that.”

      Actually, she’d had no idea how she was going to play it until that near dare rushed out of her mouth.

      “Almost sounds like the lady is issuing a challenge.”

       Dependable orgasms.

      The subconscious thought popped up and threatened to derail her common sense. But what was the downside here? Tony was hot, clearly understood boundaries and as he lived in California, he’d be gone soon. So maybe he was the perfect candidate for a little pregraduation celebratory fling.

      “Maybe it is a challenge.”

      Tony’s right hand dropped from the steering wheel and he reached for her hand. His fingers twined through hers, warm and strong. His knuckles grazed her thigh and little goose bumps tingled to life.

      “Challenge accepted.”

       3

      “SO HOW’D YOU go from juvie to documentary filmmaker?” she asked, her fingers still entwined with his. Project Getting To Know The Man You Plan To Romp On Later was officially in effect.

      “You’d think the world would be easy for a mouthy guy with a piss-poor attitude, a distrust of anyone in authority and a confrontational approach at school. That is, when I attended school.”

      Hayden laughed, which she was supposed to do. Fact to file—Anthony Garcia liked to cover up hard memories and pain with humor.

      “By the time I was a sophomore, I was ditching school more than I ever went. One of Mom’s boyfriends thought it was funny to change the locks and so I stopped going home altogether.”

      She gave his hand a light squeeze, and he squeezed hers right back.

      Warmth. Understanding. Connection.

      “Probation doesn’t last when you’re found squatting in rentals, blowing off school and getting high. They dragged me in before the same judge from before and she gave me a choice. Jail or the CW Transitional Center. I was almost stupid enough to say jail, because self-destruction was a way of life for me by then. Another one of the few things I shared with my mom. But the center was my last shot, and something inside me made me keep my idiot mouth shut. I remember the first day there, I— Damn! Would you look at that.”

      Hayden straightened in her seat and glanced left and right but only saw the outlying indicators of a small town. Gas station, a roadside strip hotel and a car dealership. “What?” she asked.

      “There’s my car.” He pointed to a sleek navy roadster, older but obviously well loved, parked in front of the dealership. Brightly colored helium balloons were tied to the side mirrors and a large placard announcing For Sale was stretched across the dashboard. “Or that was my car.”

      Tony flipped on the blinker and pulled the Ladybug into the row of spaces outside the floor-to-roof glass windows advertising no credit checks, 0 percent down and low cost financing.

      A man sporting the smooth fabric of a very expensive dress shirt and a muted silk tie shoved open the door and scurried toward them.

      Hayden stifled a groan. She’d rather give up chocolate for a month than step on a car lot. Who loved feeling stressed, pressured and patronized? She hated buying anything that didn’t have a set price anyway, and salesmen seemed especially adept at locating and zeroing in on her weaknesses, ensuring she got the worst possible deal available every time.

      “We