As head mechanic for her family's stock car team, Tracy Hyland is making sure her car is ready for tomorrow's race. If the car comes in first, she can claim her rightful place in the business. She can't afford distractions, especially an ex high school sweetheart, one who broke her heart but still makes her engine purr.
Racecar driver Delaney P. Jones comes home to drive the Hyland's car and to win back the girl he left behind. To break the iciness between them, he tempts his sexy mechanic into a smoldering dance of passion. His ultimate goal might prove more difficult—getting her across their own private finish line.
Reaching out, he said, “Join me?” His voice was low, raw with yearning.
She shook her head, afraid to take a step into their past.
He did a solo turn. “Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.” Again, he extended his hand. “You remember how well we moved together.”
How could she forget? They’d danced, laughed, and fucked until the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep in total exhaustion.
She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. Heat flared up her arm, through her body, and sparked her engine.
His fingers slipped around hers in a loose embrace. Raising her hand, he gazed into her eyes. Then they inched to her breasts, and the tip of his tongue slipped across his lips.
Her taut tips surged toward him, craving his touch, his heat.
He twirled her. “Dance first, then work.”
Ignoring her protest, he elevated their hands and ducked underneath them, kissing her forehead as he passed. “It’s your turn again.”
She dropped his hand and stepped back. “You don’t believe you can just waltz into my life again?”
He shook his head. “No—no.” His eyes twinkled with pure devilment. “That was a samba.”