As a fan of sports-themed romances I'm excited to introduce you to the newly released Full Throttle by TC Archer. Keep reading to get a glimpse of this sexy and suspenseful read and learn even more by visiting the other blogs hosting this tour.
Fast cars and a smokin' hot passion...
Rex intends to own and drive his own car, but that will cost him millions up front. Last season was a disaster, thanks to a nasty break up, but it taught him a lesson and helped sharpen his focus on what he needed to do: Win every race. And stay away from pretty girls. The last thing he needed was to learn that his new head mechanic, Jimmy James, was the gorgeous redhead pin-up walking around his pit like it was some kind of dance floor.
Gail "Jimmy" James is the first female NASCAR mechanic. As if competing in a man's world isn't tough enough, her bombshell figure bellies her genius IQ, and the pit is no place for either. Nothing Jimmy knew about Rex Henderson the driver prepared her for Rex Henderson the man. But Jimmy has no time to dwell on her feelings as strange mechanical problems curse Rex's car. Whether sabotage or her own mistakes, Jimmy must stay one step ahead of trouble if she's going to keep her job, and keep her driver alive...
Rex reached for the water handle protruding from the wall beside a soap tray. Flinching for a shock of cold water, he twisted the handle and blew out a relieved breath when warm water washed over him. He wet his hair, grabbed the soap off the dish, and turned toward the cameras. Gail halted just off camera, still clasping her robe closed. She seemed rooted to the spot, her gaze glued to him. She broke the stare to cast another glance at the shadows and Rex wanted to laugh.
“Rex, baby,” Kris said. “Don’t face me, face the shower head. There’s a camera over your shoulder. Pretend we’re not here.”
Rex faced the showerhead. As he lathered up his face, Kris called ‘action.’ Rex heard the quiet rustling of clothing and realized Gail had taken off her robe. His erection pulsed and he silently cursed. About now he could use some cold water. Gail stepped into the next stall and set the bottle of Belle Salon on the wall.
He leaned toward the wall separating the stalls and peered over at her as she turned on her shower. She wore a one piece, skin colored swimsuit with no straps and a low cut back. Her full breasts looked like they were about to burst over the top of the suit. What kept the bathing suit above her nipples? Water streamed off her chest and disappeared in rivulets down her cleavage. Rex swallowed.
Gail looked up. “Rex!” Her face reddened, making her freckles standout like rhinestones.
“Cut!” Kris yelled. “Get some towels.”
“That’s some outfit,” Rex breathed.
Her face reddened even more. She flicked a glance over the top of the shower at something, then grabbed the top of the bathing suit and tugged it higher, squirming in a way that made his hard-on threaten to explode. Did she really think she could hide anything in that suit? Kris called cut, but Rex knew they oftentimes rolled the camera a few extra frames. Maybe he could get his hands on this clip and watch her straightening her swimsuit.
“I’ll give you a look at me in my skivvies,” he said on impulse.
Her head snapped up, eyes dark with fury, and he winced when she turned the shower off with a violent twist. Still, he couldn’t keep from adding, “I can come over there.”
She shot him a scathing look. “Don’t give me that—that—”
“What?” he laughed.
Gail leaned closer. “That sweet southern drawl you think will melt me like butter.”
He raised his brows. “Like butter on hot corn bread?”
She glanced at the intern, who approached within hearing distance. Oops. Maybe he’d gone too far. Marjorie arrived, a dry towel in hand. Gail snatched up the towel without looking at either of them. Yep, his last comment might have been the deal breaker.
Gail dabbed at the water on her arm, keeping her gaze on the floor. Rex wanted to believe she was being shy, but he could see the hand she dried herself with shaking. He really had made her mad.
“Places everyone,” Kris ordered. “Your hair isn’t wet yet, Jimmy, so let’s try this again from the top. Take your robe off just like you did before.”
Rex repressed a groan. How many takes could he handle? How many did he want to handle?
“Roll it,” Kris called.
Rex set the soap in the dish. He cupped his hands under the stream of water. The bottle of Belle Salon appeared like before and he heaved the handful of water over the wall and onto the front of Gail’s bathing suit. Bingo! Her nipples leaped to attention.
She yelped. “Rex!”
Rex jerked his gaze from her chest and took in her murderous expression.
“Cut.” Kris sighed. “Let’s setup for another take.”
Her eyes narrowed and Rex shoved his face in the stream of water. What had gotten into him? He was acting like a schoolboy. A sharp sting nipped him in the butt. He whirled. Gail stood in front of his stall, her erect nipples straining against the fabric of her swimsuit. He forgot the hardening in his trunks when he saw her grab the free end of her towel and spin it over itself in preparation for another snap. He jumped aside, banging into the side of the shower stall as she whipped the towel in one fluid motion. A crack reverberated as the tip lashed the air where his crotch had just been.
“Hey!” he cried as she began twisting the towel again. “Watch the family jewels.”
“Kids. Kids,” Kris called. “Can we get to work now? Marjorie, dry Jimmy’s hair and let’s try this again.”
The intern appeared with a hairdryer. Rex locked gazes with Gail. He felt the amusement leaking into his expression and knew she saw it too when her lips pursed. The intern tugged at her arm. Gail hesitated, glancing again into the shadows.
Rex frowned. What was with her? He wasn’t some big bad wolf she had to escape from. She turned without looking at him and allowed Marjorie to lead her to a nearby table with mirror and combs. Rex watched the sway of her hips while reaching for the faucet. If she weren’t his mechanic, he would—damn, maybe he was the big bad wolf.
He turned off the water and stepped from the shower stall. He spotted his robe over a director’s chair with his name on the backrest and hurried to it. He picked up the robe and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. If he worked things right, this shoot could take all day. Rex froze. A lump grew in his throat. He glanced at Gail. She sat motionless in front of the mirror while Marjorie blew her gorgeous hair dry. His heart pounded and he felt his throat constrict.
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T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M. Casey. They live in the Northeast. Evan has a Ph.D. in electrical engineering, and Shawn is a small business owner. Their collaboration began on a lark with the post WWII film noir story The Pickle My Little Friend, and has evolved into over a dozen works, which includes their new series The Phenom League, and Daphne Du Maurier winner the romantic thriller For His Eyes Only.