Dodging explosions, crashing cars, jumping off rooftops...and falling in love.
A Hollywood Heat Novel
Up-and-coming stuntwoman Blaina Triton stops to help a sexy stranded stranger on the side of the road. Passion ignites hotter than the asphalt beneath their feet and they go back to his place for an anonymous carnal romp. Days later, she arrives on the set of her next feature film only to discover that the man she played out wanton erotic fantasies with is also her boss, Jay Williams. She thinks this job just got a whole lot better, until Jay makes it clear he never mixes business with pleasure.
Jay knows firsthand how distraction can be fatal, but around Blaina, his full, lust-ridden attention strays to her rather than staying on the job. In an effort to regain control, he offers an ultimatum--off set, their relationship is no-naughty-holds-barred, but on set, when they touch, it has to be strictly professional.
Soon their clandestine rendezvous ignite as hot as the movie's onscreen explosions. As an unstoppable stunt team, they are flawless, until the strain of their secret relationship begins to tear them apart. Jay has to make a decision. Walk away from the woman he loves, or allow himself to be driven to distraction...
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August 06, 2007
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Excerpt from Driven to Distraction by Ashleigh Raine
When the Barracuda brake lights dimly lit up and he turned into a driveway, Blaina stopped in front of the house, watching as he pulled into the garage.
He lived in one of the older houses in the neighborhood, a single story home painted beige with cream accents with matching fifties-style decorative rock facing. The lawn was simple and well-maintained. An extra garage had been tastefully added on, turning the standard two-car garage home into a car lover's dream--room for a workshop and four cars.
As if she wasn't already panting for the guy.
Blaina grabbed the gaudy pink sex shop bag off the passenger seat and pushed the ten-inch vibrator out of the way, revealing a box of multicolored condoms. Ripping the box open, she took in the rainbow of rubbers--red, blue, yellow, green, purple...
What was wrong with her? Why was she pondering colors? Blaina yanked out a condom and stuffed it into her back pocket.
She looked up to see Mr. Tall, Blond and Sexy walking her way, hands in his pockets, sunglasses no longer camouflaging his face. Her stomach flip-flopped at his approach, his long, confident strides, the way the denim clung to him in all the right places. Blindly, she reached back into the bag for more rubbers. One condom was not going to be enough.
Cramming the handful of condoms into her back pocket, Blaina tossed the bag back onto the opposing seat, cringing as the ten-inch vibrating monstrosity thumped against the passenger door. Hopefully she hadn't broken the damn thing.
The man's shadow crossed the window, and Blaina forgot about the stupid vibrator as she climbed out of her car and stared into crystal blue heaven.
The man had the most gorgeous cerulean eyes she'd ever seen. Why the hell would he hide those beauties behind sunglasses...ever?
His grin widened, creating matching crinkles at the corners of those sexy eyes. How long had she been standing there ogling him, mesmerized by his gaze?
Shaking it off, she leaned against her closed door, trying to look casual and flirty and oh-so-ready for hours of naughtiness. "So, you got home okay. Guess my job's done."
"Well now, the least I can do is offer you a drink. For going out of your way and all."
She cocked her head to the side as though she were considering his offer. "Throw in a tour of your garage and it's a deal."
"Done." He winked and extended his arm to her, unintentionally revealing corded muscle bulging beneath tanned skin. "Come on."
Blaina was smitten, charmed and ready to go anywhere with him. She pushed away from her car and he settled a hand on her upper back, leading her into the garage. He barely touched her, more of a guiding hand than an erotic caress, but it was enough to send her senses reeling.
Then they walked into his garage, and the last bit of sense she had went flying out the window.
Welcome to paradise. Blaina's mouth fell open as she took in her surroundings.
Next to his Barracuda, a blue '63 Corvette split window coupe with freshly polished chrome twinkled in the twilight. At the far end sat a custom-painted teal with detailed orange and yellow flames '49 Ford Panel Truck, chopped, channeled and ready to roll. But if rolling wasn't fast enough, next to it was a sleek, black '97 Viper roadster. That baby didn't just look fast, it was fast.
This garage was incredible. A huge workshop took up most of the back wall. In the dim light, she vaguely made out a drill press, brake lathe and chop saw, but knew there had to be tons more. If this wasn't automotive foreplay, what was?
"Okay, what do you like? Diet or regular? Or maybe a beer?"
His deep, gravelly voice yanked her from her musings and she snapped her mouth shut, hoping he hadn't caught her drooling. Turning his way, she pasted on a smile, swallowing her tongue at her new view--jeans pulled tight over a flawless male ass as he bent over and studied the contents of his steel-plated fridge.
Blaina walked up behind him, lifting her hand and cupping the air around his butt. Oh yeah, sooooo nice...
When he tossed a raised-eyebrow glance her way, she jolted her hand back and said, "I like it all."
His eyebrow arched higher, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. I'm easy to please."
"Good to know." He handed her a soda and grabbed a bottle of beer for himself. A few pizza boxes crashed against the door as he closed it. "Obviously I wasn't planning on having company tonight or I would've been more prepared." Twisting off the bottle cap, he leaned against the workbench, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, his gaze one hundred percent focused on her.
Blaina thought of the condoms filling her back pocket. Although that probably wasn't what he was talking about when he mentioned being prepared, it was a perfect opening to learn his relationship status. "Do you live alone?"
"Just me and my dog, Bo, out back."
Yes! Yes! Yes! But just to be sure she confirmed, "No wife, girlfriend, significant other or anyone else who'd be a teeny-tiny bit jealous that I'm lusting after your...cars?"
One side of his mouth tilted upward. "Nope. Cars are usually women repellant."
"I think you've been talking to the wrong women."
He chuckled. "I think you're probably right."
"Of course I am."
His grin didn't disappear as he lifted the beer bottle to his mouth. His head tipped back, throat moving as he swallowed. She wanted to brace him against the workbench and nibble on his neck, lick a line up to his mouth and then suck the extra moisture from his lips. His really sexy lips. Lips made for sin, sex and seduction.
Shockwaves of lust caused her engine to overheat and her driveline to shimmy with desire. And she'd thought that only happened in romance novels. But no, her legs were quaking and she squeezed her knees together to keep them from knocking. She skimmed her can of soda over the steamy, exposed flesh above her tank top, and swore she heard a sizzle. But the cool relief was short-lived. His eyes sparked electric blue fire as they followed the trail the condensation left on her skin, heating her right back up again.
He clunked the half-empty beer bottle onto the workbench next to his hip, and stood up straight, aligning their bodies. "You still interested in that tour?" His fingertips grazed her hips, burning a hole through the denim.
If they were naked, all Blaina'd have to do is wiggle and jump and she'd be shifting her way to paradise.
Why weren't they naked already?
"I'm ready when you are," she offered hopefully. If the large lump in his pants was anything to go by, he was just as ready as she was.
"How fast do you like to go?"
Her heart accelerated, setting new land speed records. "Why don't you take me for a test spin and find out?"
The words had barely passed her lips when he yanked her toward him and crashed his mouth over hers.
Oh Christ, the man was talented. His lips were warm and smooth as he teased hers, nibbling the sensitive flesh, then using his tongue to soothe the slight sting. Blaina didn't normally like beer, but the faint taste of it on him was an intoxicant, a flavor she'd happily drown in if given the opportunity.
Calloused hands skimmed up her bare arms, leaving a trail of pure arousal in his wake. His palms came to rest on her neck, his thumbs stroking her jaw line. But still he didn't deepen the kiss or rip off her clothes or any of the wonderful things that would get them closer to raw, unbridled sex.
Although maybe this going slow thing had its benefits. There was time for exploration, and this man had a body that demanded a fourteen-point inspection. But where to start. Did she want to polish his chrome? Dabble beneath his hood? Lengthen his driveshaft?
She placed her hands on his chest, beginning her journey by stroking him through the soft cotton, moaning her endorsement of every taut, hard, chiseled inch. Her fingertips skimmed lower, feeling the ridges in his abdomen. It was a roadmap to paradise.
Where had this man been her whole life? She sent up a quick prayer of thanks to the god of broken down vehicles for having this perfect specimen of a man's car stall when and where it did.
His lips separated from hers and she blinked up at him. Why was he stopping? Stopping was bad.
"Do you want to go inside?" he asked as his thumb made lovely, erotically charged sweeps across her cheek.
Okay, that was definitely not bad. That was very, very good. Except she didn't want to go inside.
She shook her head and he frowned. His hand fell from her face and Blaina realized she'd better explain really fast before he retreated completely. She tangled her fingers with his and smiled. "Why would I want to go inside? You and the cars are out here. The garage is perfect."