It’s a sexy excerpt from Racing To You!

From Chapter Eleven of Racing To You, Aurelia follows the too smooth talking Terrence to a victory party after he wins a race. She ends up outside on a cold night and gets far warmer than she planned…

His hand circles my back in warm strokes, and I inhale the calm it soothes into me.
Goosebumps scatter across my skin. He’s so close now; if I turn my head, I’ll be looking at his mouth. My breath rushes in my ears and my lungs expand in my chest. I want to inhale and hold him inside me. I hadn’t remembered how nice it is to sit with a guy.
He’s warm.
He nuzzles my ear. “Sit back with me.”
I stiffen.
He whispers, “I’m too tired to be anything but a gentleman. You’re cold, let me warm you up.”
I’m not cold. I’m nervous, not about him, about my reactions to him. So far I’ve sat here and let him touch me through my coat. I have yet to participate, really. If I give in to him, I might fall all the way. If I lie back with him, I might never want to get up.
“I’ll probably fall asleep in a minute. I’m so tired.” His forehead droops on my shoulder.
He is tired. He’s harmless.
He nudges me back; I go with him.
My heart runs laps in my chest, and I’m certain the whole world can hear it beating. I keep my back to him. I’m too nervous to face him. He snakes an arm around my middle and pulls me against his chest.
Relief entwines me, and any thought of getting away from him dissipates. My neck softens with my shoulders on the cushion, and I can only feel him hold me.

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My eyes close, and my breathing slows. When he stills for a minute, and his breath comes heavy in my hair, I think he’s fallen asleep.
He opens his hand and presses his palm flat on my belly, his fingers grasping my side through my coat. Air hiccups in my lungs. His hand says he wants me, his fingers say he can’t get enough of me. I like it. I want to be wanted.
“So soft,” he whispers, and his other hand moves my hair from my neck.
His mouth is so close. If I turn my head a little, I could taste him.
I rotate my head and he’s there, closer than I thought. His lips are on my cheek; the hand that was on my belly tilts my chin toward him. I let him.
He kisses me.
His lips aren’t just soft, they’re silken. I once put a rose petal to mine when it had fallen fresh off a flower. His lips feel like that. And I think of the flowers that he threw to me this afternoon. I long for him to throw more at me.
More.
Turning all of me to face him, I beg for it with my fingers on his neck. His tongue answers me and slides between my lips. I moan and taste him back.
I’m moving against him, pushing my chest into his. I’m no longer thinking, I shouldn’t.
I’m only thinking, I want.

from Racing To You by Robin Lovett