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Flat-Out Sexy(6)

By:Erin McCarthy


Elec was on the make with every intention of calling her, so while it  might seem a little lecherous, it was lecherous with a follow-through.  She'd never believe that, though, so he had to be patient, play it cool.

They went through the gate and entered the restricted area where all the  drivers kept their motor coaches. Elec's portion of the coach, which he  shared with his older brother Evan, wasn't as rigged out as some of the  other guys', since he did tend to go home to his condo in Charlotte  Monday through Wednesday during the race season, and because he was  still just a rookie-as the other drivers all liked to point out-but he  did have a flat-screen TV

and his X-box. Both kept him company now that he'd ditched the last of  the simpering, camera-hungry females who had been dangling after him,  though Crystal still insisted on sending him a boatload of text  messages. He hadn't figured out how to make that stop without getting  rude on her and he didn't like to be rude, so for the moment, he'd just  been ignoring her.

Elec knew from barbeques Ryder had thrown that his coach was fully  loaded, looking straight out of a decorating magazine with plush  furniture in earth tones, and containing every gadget known to man.  Ryder's driver, a man who was probably pushing sixty, but was sporting  killer biceps, gave Tamara a wide smile in recognition when he opened  the door to them.

"Well, hello, Mrs. Briggs, how are you? Ryder called me and gave me a  heads-up. I'm sorry you lost your purse but it's good to see you again."  He shot a curious look over her head at Elec. "Elec," he said as a  greeting.

Elec nodded in return, getting the message loud and clear that the  driver was wondering what the hell he was doing with Tamara. "Jeff."

"Thanks," Tamara said with an answering smile. "It's good to see you, too, Jeff. How have you been?"

"Can't complain, can't complain." Jeff stepped down out of the coach.  "I'm heading over to my girlfriend's for the night, so if you could lock  up in the morning, I'd appreciate it."

"I hope I'm not running you out," she said in alarm. "Don't leave on my account if you usually stay here when Ryder isn't."

"Oh, no, no. Ruth and I have a standing Saturday night date. But I left  my cell phone number on the table so call me if you need anything, Mrs.  Briggs."                       
       
           



       

Then the older man left, with a stern glare and a nod in Elec's  direction. He hardly even noticed, reflecting on what Jeff had been  calling Tamara.

Mrs. Briggs. Damn, what the hell did Elec think he was doing? The title  bothered Elec, gave him serious pause. Who did he think he was,  competing with the late, great Pete Briggs? Tamara had loved him,  probably still missed him. That was a lot to live up to, and Pete had  been a social guy, the life of the party. He had been the first one to  smile for the cameras, to climb up on a table and give a speech, and to  do a burnout for the fans when he won a race. Elec winced when the  cameras turned on him. He was a racer, never happier than when he was  building an engine or sitting behind the wheel, and he wasn't good at  public speaking.

Elec was nothing like Pete Briggs. So no doubt he was not Mrs. Tamara Briggs's type at all.

Pete had given Tamara marriage, children, fame in racing, money.

Elec had none of that to give.

Yet he was more attracted to her than any woman in a good long while. Maybe ever.

Which was why he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Tamara."

She turned around, standing in the doorway of the coach, her head  tilted, chin tucked toward her chest, her restless hand playing with the  ends of her hair. "Thanks for seeing me back, Elec. I know Ryder  foisted me off on you and you've been very patient."

Patience had nothing to do with anything. What he was, was damn  frustrated, and wishing he'd been gifted with a silver tongue instead of  one that tripped over words, and a brain that had no clue how to  articulate to her what he was thinking. Which was that he wanted to get  to know her better. Much better. So he just stuck his hands in his front  pockets and hoped for the best, knowing he wasn't going to be able to  dredge up any pretty or slick words. "I told you it's the best thing to  happen to me all day."



He was standing only a foot or two in front of her and he wished he  wasn't wearing a stained dress shirt and shoes that pinched the hell out  of his feet. He'd kill to be in jeans, a T-shirt, and a ball cap. Maybe  then he'd feel like less of a jackass. "I'd like to go to dinner with  you next week," he said before he turned into a total chickenshit and  hauled ass out of there without asking her out. "Are you free?"

Her eyes widened, like she'd honestly had no idea he was going to say that.

"Oh," she said and blinked.

Well, that was quite the ego stroke. Not. Elec figured he could say  something smooth and flirtatious and coaxing, or he could just wait and  see if she expanded on her nothing of a response. He knew anything he  tried to say would sound desperate so he just shut his mouth, watched,  and waited.

"I . . ." Her hand fluttered up to her chest. "I don't know what to say."

Hell, she was going to turn him down. Elec really didn't want to hear  that, so he stepped closer to her, stared into her blue eyes, and said,  "Say yes."

Then he raised his hand and cupped her cheek. He leaned toward her,  still watching her, gauging her reaction, giving her time to pull back.  She didn't. Her eyes went even wider, but she didn't stop him. So he  kissed her.

Oh, man, he was dead. The minute his mouth connected with hers in a  smooth, soft, full-contact kiss that started a burn low in his gut, Elec  knew he was in for some serious trouble, and it was going to take all  of his willpower to step away. Which he had to do. Yet his mouth still  hovered over hers, his body tense, fists clenched, eyes closed as he  inhaled her scent, listened to the rush of her breathing, felt the brush  of her thighs against his arm. In a second he would move away. After  another kiss. Just one more, then he'd back up and go home. For real.

But he had to have another one-bigger, fuller, deeper-to take away with him.

Elec eliminated all the space between them and gripped her cheek,  sliding his hand all up into her thick, silky hair. Then he took her  mouth, harder this time, enjoying the feel of her body close to his, the  sweet taste of her soft, moist lips. For a good long while, they both  just explored the feel of each other, the hot press of his mouth to  hers, until he couldn't resist. He slipped his tongue into her, and  Tamara's hands snaked around his neck and met his tongue with her own in  a seductive little thrust. Just like that, heat exploded between them.  He heard her breath suck in as they broke contact, felt her breasts  press against his chest, was aware of her fingers digging into the back  of his hair. They paused, staring at each other, poised between stopping  and starting what he knew they couldn't stop.

Their heavy breathing filled the warm night air and he stared into her  soft, blue eyes, then down at her plump, kiss-swollen lips. Her cheeks  were flushed from arousal, her hair mussed and hanging in her eyes, and  Elec wanted her in a way that made all logic disappear, and his body  tense in places he hadn't even known existed.                       
       
           



       

Elec went with it, because, well, he couldn't stop himself. She tasted  like wine and woman, and she had opened her mouth for him eagerly. She  had willingly wedged her leg inside his, pressed her breasts against his  chest. She wanted him, too, and when he reached for her, arms, hands,  and lips, she met him halfway with enough force that their teeth knocked  together. He wasn't even sure who was kissing who anymore, they were  just colliding into each other, taking and tasting, nipping and gripping  each other, his common sense gone, his erection bumping right into her  inner thighs. She was a step up from him in the doorway of the coach and  it made for damn good positioning, which he took advantage of by  grinding himself against her.



When they broke apart to pull in air before they both suffocated, Elec  tried to think of what to say, not an apology, but some kind of  reassurance, a promise that he'd knock it off and get control of  himself, no matter how hard that might be. He was pushing it, he was  losing it, he was being downright offensive and aggressive and he would  really, really try to cool it and be a gentleman. But before he could  form any words, Tamara glanced left and right.

"Oh, Lord, get inside before someone sees us."

Green flag. Elec had one foot on the step when his conscience got the best of him. "Are you sure? I can leave if you want."