“How many foster homes were you in?” Sophie demanded, unable to censor the alarm in her voice. “I thought you’d grown up with your brother.”
Damn.
“Caden?”
“Six.”
“Six? Then what? You got your freedom at eighteen?”
He snorted. “I got my freedom way before then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I took off.”
“To?”
“Nowhere. The streets. Until my brother Bracken tracked me down.” He felt her eyes on him so he plucked his sunglasses off his head and put them on. Safer that way. “Look, that stuff’s not important.”
“Of course it’s important. Your past is what molds you into the person you are today.” Her voice cracked, teeming with emotion.
Her pity was like a solid strike to the abdomen, then a tight squeeze. It hooked into him, took hold and yanked everything out, leaving one freaking hellhole of a mess. He should’ve known she’d zoomed right in on his weaknesses. Fuckin’ scary how she’d seen right past his bullshit. At least she hadn’t gotten it on video.
“That’s what Anthony meant by you being streetwise. You lived on the streets with your brother.”
Anthony. Hearing the fighter’s name coming from her lips was like tossing dry wood onto the emotional bonfire already raging in his head. He struggled to find another topic before he lost it completely. And failed miserably.
“We’re survivors, you and I,” she added softly.
He glanced at her. She was gazing up at the sky. That asshole Hank had done a number on her. Caden planned on returning the favor.
Man alive, what had he been thinking? Two people with this much baggage would never be able to haul it around for the long term.
Sophie must have come to the same conclusion because she was mercifully silent.
Her leg flexed as she pressed the gas pedal.
He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes.
End of discussion.
Sophie held the Aston at a solid eighty miles per. Guess he wasn’t the only one eager to hit Vegas.
* * *
When it came to talking sex, Caden was in the driver’s seat. It was the kind of verbal foreplay he excelled at. The perfect wall to throw up between them—keeping the conversation light, the tension that had been like a third passenger at bay, and as they crossed the Nevada state line, leaving any lingering thoughts about his misspent youth back in Arizona. Relief washed over him when she took the bait, and started sassing him back.
Her clever responses made him grin, but the flush on her cheeks his sexy promises had put there was what was really turning him on.
Ironic how she was going tit for tat with him, yet seemed so innocent. Matter of fact, he’d was pretty sure her Late Night persona was a lie.
“Let’s talk about the kinky things I’m gonna do to that hot body of yours.”
He could tell she liked that by the way she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.
“Let’s talk about how you better put your money where your mouth is, sugar.”
“My mouth, huh?”
He heard her inhale sharply as she caught his look of unadulterated lust. “I meant the rest of the interview.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Ohhh, yeah.” She extended the oh, making it sound sexy and passionate.
“Wish I’d caught on tape how you looked with my mouth between your thighs and my tongue working over your clit.”
She wiggled in her seat and grasped the steering wheel tighter. Her widened eyes were focused on the roadway. A shame. He wanted to see the fire burning there. Yep, he was the one doing the driving, and he was loving every minute of it.
He paused, giving her time to gather her thoughts. He loved her mind, the way she always had a quick comeback. G-rated compared to his R-rated, he noted, further proof that she wasn’t the person people expected her to be. Her reaction to him turned him on, big time. Not that he needed any help in that department.
“As soon as we get situated in Vegas, I’m deleting your sex tape.”
“Better watch it first, chili bean.”
She blushed a pretty shade of pink. Still, he knew what it was like to be in the celebrity spotlight, and made it a point to reassure her.
“It’s not a sex tape. Or sex tapes—I recorded myself three times.”
“Three? When? What did you say?”
“Not much substance in your first recording, that one was more a narrative on fighting in general. In the second, there’s a bunch of bullshit the public will want to hear. My sponsorships and what it was like being the body for Ultimate American Man.”
“Oh my God. Really?”
“Yep. Even gave you a real exclusive, how I’m ending my contract with them, and how I’ll be focusing all my energy on fighting.”
“You are?” She turned to peer at him.
“Yep.
“Why?”
He knew that was going to be her response. Silently, he thanked the heavens she didn’t ask about the third recording. The footage he’d shot earlier this morning like some besotted moron. What the fuck had he been thinking? Somehow, he had to get his hands on her camcorder and delete it. One major sentimental blood-letting. It would lead to nothing but broken hearts and tears.
He shrugged, and focused on answering her question honestly. “My billboard days are done. I texted my manager. He’s terminating my modeling contract. No one knows this yet. You’ve got the exclusive you wanted so badly. See, I’ve a bone to pick with myself. Learned a lesson—all the time training, getting into peak physical shape and ready to fight, it isn’t enough without mental discipline. Without drive and commitment, a fighter will never advance. Those mental battles are the bloodiest, get my drift?”
She sat up straighter in her seat, stiff and proper. Yeah, she knew exactly what he was talking about.
It took her a second to recover.
He could tell she realized that he hadn’t answered her question by the silence that followed. After a long exhale, he muttered, “Just watch the tape.”
“So, you were that guy—physically ready but otherwise unprepared?” she promptly asked.
“Yep, a poster child for it.”
She turned her eyes from the road, cocked her head, and studied him. “What happened?”
“My older brother died in Afghanistan. Mikey.”
She peered at him closely. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had another brother.”
“When Family Services broke us up, he headed into the army. I didn’t get to see him before he died.”
She frowned, quietly considering his words.
“Ultimate American Male isn’t who I am and was never what I wanted. My life kind of derailed after Mikey died. Winning Tetnus is something I need to do for my brothers, and for myself. Like you said before, it’ll be proof that I’m a survivor. I’ve got big plans to get my shit back on track.”
He heard her sigh. “You and me both.”
He balled his fist in his hand, and added, “Tetnus is all I’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”
Hell, he needed to get a grip, and rid his head of all the soft, lovey-dovey nonsense rattling around inside. A man like him didn’t deserve a woman like her for the long term. She brought out things in him—a hope in him, feelings within him—that were best left dead. Better he shake it off now, before things got out of hand, as if his pile of bullshit wasn’t high enough with the issue of the duffel bag.
No, he needed to clear the air, then clear his head. Make sure she knew to keep things light. Give himself a solid haymaker of a reminder, as well. He was going to finish this thing, for himself and his brother. Without her.
“I don’t
—can’t—do relationships. No long-term commitments. Best you know that now. What this is, is casual. Temporary.”
A small huffing sound was the only indication she’d heard him.
Sophie averted her gaze, studying the horizon for a while and taking measure of what he was telling her. Smart woman. Silence accompanied them down a long stretch of desert roadway, though his brain kept chanting bastard, lying bastard, until Sophie asked in a low voice, “Winning Tetnus is that important to you?”
Shit, he had to delete that freakin’ third truth fest of a video. Better for both of them if she remained oblivious to his bleeding heart. “Yep. Nothing else matters.”
“Deflecto-mundo,” she murmured.
Terrific. She wasn’t falling for his crap—it seemed she knew him better than he knew himself. Jesus, all the confirmation she needed was on her camcorder.
“So, you’re saying that if I pull the car over, get out, strip naked, and bend over the hood, it wouldn’t matter to you in the slightest?” she quipped, though the tightness around her eyes suggested her taunt held more than she was letting on.
How easy it would be to let someone like Sophie in. It was his turn to squirm in his seat. Except he couldn’t because his cock pinned him in place, swelling up like a long iron weight and growing heavier by the second. The tension that had been building since their repartee reignited. Thank God she was steering him back into a more comfortable ride, one with him in the driver’s seat.
“You’re saying that if I got down on my knees between your—”
“Pull over.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shake her head.
“Pull. The. Car. Over.”
“Tell me it doesn’t matter.”
Shit.
“Tell me that when we get to Vegas and Anthony becomes the new focus of my documentary, that won’t matter to you.”
He heard a low-pitched sound. From her? Or him?
“I care about you. Tell me that doesn’t matter that I’m falling...” Her voice sounded hoarse, deep and filled with emotion.
He thought about her back in the desert, hurtling rocks into the sky. Her strength of character. Her stubbornness. She was a survivor, just like him.
“Oh, darn,” she added. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
That was it.
“Pull the car over, chili cheeks.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
“Fuck you.”
Her words surprised him. He grinned. Hell, maybe winning Tetnus wasn’t the only thing he needed in his life.
He reached over and placed his palm on her thigh.
She jerked away as if his touch burned her. His heart felt like someone had set it afire and it had started to blaze uncontrollably. Knowing what he’d been—a neglected, troubled brawler. Knowing where he was headed—to become the toughest fighter around. Knowing this, she still cared.
The thing about professional fighters that set them apart from the amateurs was that they recognized the exact moment when their opponent whipped out skills they’d never even imagined. Mad skills. The kind that forced a fighter to his knees and to accept defeat. And Sophie’d, thrown him one motherfucker of a punch. Falling for him. This was the tap out of all tap outs.
“Sophie,” he said softly, “Pull over, sweetheart.” He gently squeezed her thigh so she’d look at him.
She shot him a glare that would melt ice.
“I lied.” He shook his head, closed his eyes, and reopened them. What he saw was her staring at him like he was someone worth loving.
Maybe, just maybe...he could live up to her expectations. It was well worth a try if he could keep his shit together. He relaxed, his decision made.
Just like Tetnus, nothing was going to stop him from winning her.
“Vegas can wait. I’ll show you...”
* * *
The car bounced, cutting Caden off, as they catapulted backward against their seats. The rear of the Aston fishtailed and Sophie focused all of her energy on safely steering the car off the roadway. Crapola, she must have hit something.
“Holy shit,” Caden exclaimed, throwing his hands on the dashboard as they jerked to a stop. Then, he laughed. “You trying to tell me you’re tired of driving or that you want me up inside you fast?”
Maybe I’m trying to tell you I see beneath your sexpot exterior—that every time you throw sex into the mix, you’re deflecting from the truth. Caden climbed out of the car before she could put her thoughts to words.
She followed, scanning the long expanse of barren roadway for some signs of life. The air was cooler than Phoenix but hotter than Sedona.
He nodded toward the hood. “Bend over.”
“Right here on the side of the highway?” Man, she was shocked the idea was such a turn on. Naughty, like something Sophie Morelle might do. Maybe she was a bit more like her alter ego than she’d realized. And Caden sure knew how to bring this side of her out to play, alright.
“This was your idea, chili cakes.”
It certainly was her idea. “Is this your idea of make-up sex?”
Caden took a long look up the road one way and then the other. Finally, his eyes fell on her. “More than that, okay? Much more. But that’s all I’m saying.”
Sophie blinked, and her heart mimicked the movement.
She eyed the hood. When had she ever done anything remotely wild? Or exciting? With someone she cared about? Stepping closer, his hands touched her sides and he turned her so her back was to the hood.
“What if a car passes us?”
“We’ll see them way before they can see us. Keep your eyes on the horizon, honey.” His hands found the buttons on his Bermuda shorts. He opened them and was working his cock out of his boxers before she could even say the word horizon.
“Drop your panties and get on up on the hood.”
“I thought you wanted me bent over the hood?” she stated, saucily, the idea that they were about to get it on along a deserted stretch of Nevada highway downright titillating. Still, she added, “That hood’s got to be hotter than heck.”
“Come on. Vegas is waiting. I’m waiting.”
Oh, boy, was he ever.
“You won’t be seated there for long, and I wanna take good care of you first.”
Oh. My. God.
Before she could process what that meant, he lifted her up and placed her on the hood. His warm palms caressed her thighs on their journey upward, slowly, until a finger slid beneath the elastic of her thong, and in one long stroke, caressed her nub. Her hips lifted off the hood and her throat went dry as a desert.
“Keep your eyes on the roadway.”
Yeah, right. At that moment, a parade could have been marching by and she wouldn’t have cared.
Deftly, his hands found her hips and shifted her slightly upward as he yanked her panties free.
She heard the rustle of her skirt being lifted. Her eyes nearly rolled right off the horizon when she felt his tongue touch the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee. With his head beneath her skirt, he traced a path between her thighs.
He laved her, running his tongue deep between her folds.
She didn’t know what was hotter, the heat of the hood, the flush of moisture at the juncture of her legs, or the wild devil between her thighs.
His finger worked her folds open as his tongue delved in her depths.
She leaned back onto her elbows on the hood and looked at the sky, watching it fill with stars as her climax came fast and hard.
Her skirt fell back into place but not for long. She heard the sound of foil unwrapping, and a renewed wave of moisture pooled between her legs. He slid her forward, tugged her upright, and lifted her off clear the hood.
“I’ve been dying t
o get inside you all day. Hold it up.”
Grabbing both sides of the waistband, she yanked her skirt up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Immediately, his cock found her center and pushed into her.
“Never seems like I can get enough of you, Sophie,” he murmured, thrusting deeper and faster. “Every time I’m near you, all I want is more.”
Her heart sang out in chorus with her body. So beautifully, she wanted to cry.
He paused and searched the highway. “Let’s move things inside.” She felt empty at his withdrawal, and ached for more. He led her to the passenger seat and climbed in, his magnificent cock at full attention. “You keep your eyes south and I’ll watch the northern horizon. Hop on.”
It took a few awkward seconds to straddle him in the bucket seat but the reward was so worth it, as her moist core found his delicious hardness and she sank down onto him. He lifted her up by the hips, then let her drop. Over and over, until her body moved in perfect rhythm with his own.
He groaned.
Stars appeared once more overhead, shining brighter and brighter with every thrust.
His cock thickened inside her. So sweet, and so very sinful.
He touched her cheek in a gentle caress. A whisper of a smile curled his lips before his mouth claimed hers, his tongue delving inside her mouth in time with their movements.
Time was irrelevant. Nothing mattered but Caden, and the feeling building deep within her.
She broke free of his lips, arched her back and cried out.
With three long thrusts, he groaned, a raw, heady, lustful sound, and climaxed along with her.
“Holy dang-diggity, that was hot,” she murmured into his ear, nuzzling her cheek up against the warmth of his neck.
Her entire body seemed to quiver around him as his cock twitched in agreement.
Yep. Vegas could wait.
Chapter Sixteen
TWISTER: The kind of fight you just didn’t see coming
Someone cleared their throat. Loudly. Then repeated the action before commanding, “Please disengage and remove yourselves from the vehicle.”
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