12 hours later, they were in that black SUV, ripping their first seam through the high desert. Tom had rehearsed this first road-trip as well, understanding the importance of their first performance, planning a string of conversations meant to disarm and attract Terry. And although it surprised him how much longer than planned it took, by the time they had parked in their first hotel parking lot, his hand had been on her thigh for some time.

She knew it was an act. Terry was gorgeous and young, but not stupid. She'd been on the receiveing end of so much romantic energy, she naturally became a connoisseur of men's intentions. Usually, the difference was subtle and overwhelmed by the pure sexual thrust of the conversation, but Tom's advances were so confident and unafraid and completely lacking any driving force. It was confusing at first, but if he was willing to play the role, she'd certainly take him up on it. And she was curious to see how high up her leg he would dare to put his hand, and if she adjusted her skirt just so, would it be enough to arouse a genuine interest.