I’m particularly excited to be sharing this excerpt today, because it’s release day for the book in question! My sexy biker story, Fast Lust, is now available as part of the British Bad Boys Boxed Set! Woohoo! If you love bad boy bikers, musicians, tattooed guys, and gangsters, you’ll love this! If you’re quick, you can grab your copy for just 99c/p. Also be aware that if you buy your books from retailers other than Amazon that you’ll need to buy yours soon because the set will be removed from other retailers in a week in order to put it into Kindle Unlimited. I hope you’ll check out this project – it’s been such amazing fun for me!
She found the garages without too much trouble, and after asking a couple more people for further directions, she finally located 19—otherwise known as Rafe Donovan. Who, despite the first man’s reluctance to divulge gossip, she now knew had a story, as well as no outside funding. It wouldn’t fill many column inches at the moment, but at least it gave her a jumping-off point.
Passing into the gloom of the garage-cum-workshop, which was indeed, in the arse end of nowhere—she’d long since passed the areas given over to the biggest teams—she gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the light before approaching the three men clustered around the Kawasaki. They were so engrossed in their work that they didn’t notice her.
After a moment, though, the man himself looked up from his task and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead—leaving an oily streak—and spotting her in the process. A slight frown on his face, he stood up and met her gaze, a glint of interest in his eyes. “Hello, can I help you?”
Gloria was stunned into silence as she took him in. He’d unzipped the top half of his leathers, leaving them hanging around his waist. It looked cumbersome, but not as much, she guessed, as trying to work whilst wearing the top half, too. Underneath he wore a white T-shirt, which she felt was an unwise choice, but one she appreciated, given the way it clung to his chest and torso and afforded a delightful view of his muscular arms. The blobs and smudges of oil and dirt only served to highlight the bright whiteness of the material, and the tanned skinned of the wearer.
As well as having luscious dirty-blond hair that she wanted to tangle her fingers in, Rafe was also incredibly handsome. He had cheekbones to die for, a smattering of pale stubble on his cheeks and chin, lips that should really have been too plump for a man, but somehow suited him, and the most soulful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. She suspected that, had he not been wearing leathers and covered in dirt and grime, he would actually appear angelic. But, as it was, he came across as quite the opposite. An impression cemented by his next words. “Hey, you lost, sweetheart? You looking for somewhere to powder your nose?”
He smirked, and the other two men with him—who were, by now, paying attention—sniggered.
Indignation rolling through her, Gloria pulled herself up to her full height—which was probably still a good foot shorter than his—and said, “No, I’m not looking for somewhere to powder my nose. I’m looking for you, Rafe Donovan.” She’d deliberately used his name to unsettle him, and it seemed to work.
The briefest flicker of uncertainty passed over his features, before being replaced with a smug look. “Have we met before? I doubt it, ‘cos I’m pretty sure I would remember you.” He raked his gaze up and down her body, lingering on her breasts, then grinned widely.
Goosebumps broke out all over her skin, but she stood firm, and kept her expression neutral. Stepping forward, she held out a hand over the bike, ignoring the other two men still tinkering with it. “My name’s Gloria Heath. I’m a reporter, and I’ve been given an assignment to write about this weekend’s British Superbikes tournament and the riders taking part in it, with special emphasis on individuals whose back stories might be of particular interest. Which is what has led me to you.”
Narrowing his eyes, Rafe grabbed a nearby rag and scrubbed at his right hand for a moment before reaching out and taking hers. As they shook, he said warily, “Nice to meet you, Gloria. So, what makes you think my back story might be of particular interest?”
As they’d been in physical contact, Gloria had again concentrated hard on keeping her expression neutral, while hormones zipped through her body at an alarming rate and made her heart race once again. Now they were no longer touching, she felt slightly more in control of herself—at the same time desperately wanting to wipe her palm on her trousers. Whether it was an attempt to erase the effect the contact had had, or remove oil and grime from her hand, she wasn’t sure.
She had to tread carefully here. She didn’t want to put the guy’s back up and have him refuse to talk to her. Granted, if he did, she still had two full days and what was left of today to find someone else to focus on for her article, but now she’d found Rafe, she wanted him. In more ways than one, if the reactions in her traitorous body were anything to go by.
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Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 160 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. Subscribe to her newsletter and get a free eBook: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9