Excerpt of Flat-Out Sexy by Erin McCarthy

“I’m sorry you lost your purse,” Elec said. “I hope it turns
up.”

“Me, too. I don’t even know what I did with it, and that’s
driving me crazy. I never lose things. Never.” Tamara waved
her hand in the air. “God, this weekend has been a total
disaster. Maybe I should have just stayed home.”

That would have been seriously unfortunate because then Elec
wouldn’t have been treated to the view of her long legs or
her luscious lips, and that would have truly been a damn
shame. “Why? What else has gone wrong?”

She shot him a sheepish look. “I brought a man I’ve been
seeing with me.”

Elec felt a serious kick of disappointment. She was dating
someone? That was just all sorts of wrong. “So where is he
tonight? Why isn’t he taking you home?” And could Elec pay
him off to get rid of him?

“I broke up with him.”

Thank the Lord. Now he didn’t have to worry about stealing
the poor sap’s woman, because he was fairly certain he was
going to take a crack at it, morally wrong or not.

“There just wasn’t any…” she cleared her throat. “He’s very
nice, but there was no… between us, you know. Do you know
what I’m saying?”

“You mean no sexual attraction?” he asked, not sure why she
wasn’t just saying that outright. It happened all the time.
That’s what friendship was for. Sometimes you just didn’t
feel any sort of physical connection with someone of the
opposite sex.

She nodded rapidly. “Exactly. Only, I feel like I led him on
by inviting him for this weekend.” She turned more fully to
him, uncrossing her legs and drawing them up onto the seat
in a way that created a tunnel between her dress and her
inner thighs. “The thing is, I haven’t dated at all since my
husband was killed.”

Distracted by the fact that he could almost see up her
skirt- almost, but not quite- which was teasing him
something terrible, Elec was having a little trouble
concentrating on her words. He forced himself to drag his
gaze away from those legs and look up at her face. Focus.
Form words. He could do that. “Well, that’s understandable.
It hasn’t been all that long, has it? Two seasons ago,
right? You don’t get over something like that in the blink
of an eye.”

Hell, how did a wife ever get over losing her husband in a
wreck? He wasn’t sure.

“Thanks for saying that.” Her name came out and softly
touched his knee before pulling back. “And I’ve been busy
raising my kids, juggling my career. This was the first guy
I’ve gone out with and I thought I could make myself like
him since he’s nice and safe and stable. Tonight I figured
out I can’t do that.”

Elec wanted to touch Tamara back, to stroke his own hand
over her bare knee, or slide his fingers into her thick
hair, but he restrained himself. “No. You can’t force
yourself to feel attracted to someone.” He’d learned that
with the bimbo brigade. Just because a woman looked good on
his arm before a big race didn’t make up for the awkward
silences, or worse, the mindless chatter she threw at him
until all he wanted was a remote control to turn her volume
down.

“No. You can’t.” She gave a soft laugh and pressed fingers
to her temples. “God, I have no idea why I’m telling you all
this. You’re probably regretting getting saddled with me.
I’m babbling.”

“Obviously you needed someone to talk to, and sometimes a
person you don’t know is the best bet. You feel like they
have no bias on whatever you’re saying.” He gave her a
smile. “And I’ve been told I have one of those faces. People
like to tell me things.” Sometimes things he could do
without, frankly, like the bank teller’s description of her
hysterectomy.

“You do have one of those faces,” she said softly. “Like
you’re actually listening, not just looking for an opening
to turn the subject back to you.”

The look on her face led him to believe she’d known a lot of
men like that. He shrugged. “I like listening to people
talk. Most people are fascinating. And I’m not all that
comfortable in the limelight, anyway.” Which had been a
major setback in his career, something he fought against
every day. “My mother used to call me Elec the Eyeball,
because I was always sitting and watching. Staring, I
guess.” He grinned. “Not really a flattering nickname, but I
actually think she appreciated me being a quiet kid, and
meant it in an affectionate way. My brother and sister were
kind of loud.” In the way that the roar of forty-three cars
circling the short track at Bristol was kind of loud.

She laughed. “Elec the Eyeball? Mothers give their kids the
most appalling nicknames. I call my son Peter-Pants and I
really need to stop. He’s nine years old and it’s not so
cute any more.”

Ouch. Poor kid. He’d take Eyeball any day of the week over
being referenced as a fairy boy in tights. Elec grinned.
“Just don’t call him that in public. That’s a fistfight with
the other boys waiting to happen.”

“Ugh. I can’t stomach the thought of my baby getting into a
fistfight. Ryder is Petey’s godfather and I’m going to be
calling on him for help the first time a punch is thrown.”
She laughed. “And don’t even get me started on how I handle
the day my son discovers girls don’t have cooties… I won’t
be turning to Ryder for advice there, trust me, since he’s
got a new woman every week. I think I’ll just lock my son up
until he’s thirty instead.”

“I don’t think that will go over well.”

“I’m hoping that since Petey’s main interest in life is bugs
and nature, that he won’t discover girls until he’s eighteen.”

“Just because he likes a good cockroach doesn’t mean he
won’t be fantasizing about girls between tromps in the woods.”

“That’s true, I guess.” She sighed. “Lord, I don’t even want
to think about it.”

“I bet you’re an amazing mother,” Elec murmured, wondering
if she had any idea at all how damn hot she was. He was such
a skunk. For all he claimed to be a good listener, and for
all that he really was interested in getting to know her, he
was seriously distracted by how close she was to him in the
cab. Her perfume drifted over to him every time she shifted
on the seat and her legs came dangerously close to bumping
his over and over, tormenting him. He wanted to just reach
out and taste those plump juicy lips and see if they were as
delicious as they looked. He wanted to slide his hand up her
leg, under that dress, and discover if she wore practical
panties, a sexy thong, or nothing at all. If he were a
betting man, he’d put his money on black lace.

And while he was thinking all of that, she was talking about
her child, which meant he really should be heartily ashamed
of himself.

He wasn’t feeling it.

“Thanks,” she said in a soft voice, her eyes widening, like
she realized which way the wind was blowing.

Like she knew he was two seconds away from kissing her.

Elec leaned forward.

Tamara sucked in a breath.