Excerpt of Start your Engines by Marilyn Campbell

Erik Santana willed his cock not to respond to the sight before him. He then had to order the rest of his body not to approach the source of his lust until she was finished enjoying whatever fantasy had just overtaken her. Between the hungry expression on her face, her held breath, the way her nipples visibly hardened beneath her thin shirt and how her fingers tightened on the program to keep them from roaming elsewhere, he recognized the euphoric state and had total respect for it. It was all he could do to restrain himself from joining her.

After all the stress he’d endured over the last year, he had hoped she would be here. Seeing her walk in the door had immediately buoyed his spirits but being able to witness her blatant sexual response to the Lamborghini felt like a reward for his patience.

He had seen her at last year’s show and the one before that but he didn’t allow himself to make contact then. There was no way he would have been able to settle for a casual conversation and his marital vows had prohibited him from doing more, so he had done nothing.

It would help his cause considerably if she also remembered seeing him before. However, he was certain she would not. In fact, he doubted she ever noticed any of the men who openly gaped as she passed or got sweaty when she actually spoke to them. She wasn’t here to pick up a date. For her, it was all about the machines and that was something they had in common...the most important something as far as he was concerned.

The restriction of being married was no longer an obstacle to his introducing himself to the adorable little car-nut. After four years his wife had finally given up trying to change him into the husband she needed and filed for divorce. She had wanted him to be more focused on gathering money and prestige and to give up what she called his "unnatural obsession" with cars. Fortunately she had found a man more to her liking and was anxious to come to a settlement that Erik wouldn’t fight over.

Now he was free. Free to spend his time however he wanted. Free to obsess over cars as much as he pleased. Free to approach the woman he had fantasized about for the last two years.

Appolonia tightened her core muscles one more time and held them taut as she gave in to a tiny shiver of mini-orgasm. The effect such a car had on her was impossible to ignore or even prolong until she could retreat to a private place, thus her imagination and vaginal muscles had strengthened sufficiently for her to swiftly achieve some relief without having to commit a lewd act in public. She was able to take a calming breath a moment before a salesman stepped up to the garland barrier.

She gave him an innocent smile and said simply, "Nice ride."

His return smile wasn’t quite so innocent. "I can’t offer a test drive but I could let you sit in it for a moment if you’d like."

Her eyes widened with surprise. It usually took some serious flirtation to get that offer for a car of this caliber. "That really would be awesome but I need to be somewhere else right now. Maybe later?"

His unabashed leer ran down her body and he gave her a wink. "I’ll be here whenever you’re ready."

Now that she had burned off some of her built-up need, she had no trouble making it all the way to the center stage without stopping again. One very pretty young woman handed her a flyer announcing the rules of the Secret Santa drawing. Another was seated at a table ready to sell her as many tickets as she could afford.

Appolonia pulled her debit card out of her purse. "One, please." As she filled out her personal information on the raffle ticket stub, she asked, "Have you heard any rumors about what kind of car it is?"

The girl didn’t respond. Her attention was entirely distracted by someone standing behind Appolonia. She pushed her stub through the slit in the small safe provided for that purpose and moved out of the way. For several seconds she visually examined the largest Christmas gift she’d ever seen, trying to glean some detail from its size and shape. The only thing she concluded was that it wasn’t high enough to be a van or truck.

"A raffle ticket for your thoughts."

The man’s voice was a low rumble, close enough to her ear to feel his breath, which was too close for her comfort, but his tone seemed more playful than scary. A raffle ticket with a blank stub flashed in front of her eyes and she was momentarily captivated. She turned to see who dared make such an outlandish offer and forgot what she was going to say.

It was him. The one and only man she had seen last year who was attractive enough to pull her attention away from his car. Ironically, he was also the one and only man who had not succumbed to her sweet smile and sexy body routine. None of her usual ploys had worked on him. He hadn’t let anyone but a serious buyer get close to his baby. What had it been? She flashed on a vintage muscle car and how sexy he had looked leaning against the front fender... "1964 Pontiac GTO."