We recently discovered the incredible phenomenon of NASCAR-themed romance fiction, stories filled with passion and grease and beautiful people being driven swiftly to ecstasy and Victory Lane alike. What follows is a brief selection from one such tale.
From Racing Hearts, by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Nancy Warren, and Dorien Kelly:
To underscore the situation, she was wearing makeup on the job, something she'd never done before. She'd also fixed her hair in a manner that was supposed to make a man think of sweaty sex according to the stylist in Jackson, Wyoming, where she'd had it cut while she was home over Christmas break.
The Goddess Chocolates ball cap she normally wore would ruin the look of her hair, so she'd taken a chance and left it off so Judd could see the new style.
Would Judd think of sweaty sex when he saw it?
"Did you have a bad night?"
"Well, your eyes look sort of red, and your hair ... well, no offense, but it looks like you just crawled out of bed. If you forgot your hat, I can find you another one. That would help cover up your hair."
She gritted her teeth. Her attempt to look sexily disheveled had apparently come off as a massive hangover and a last-minute scramble to get to work. That's what she got for not practicing with the hair and the makeup. No wonder he wasn't drooling over her.
Too embarrassed to admit she'd put time into creating this sorry mess, she shrugged and tried for nonchalance. "I overslept. But don't worry about the hat. I'll live without it today."
"You're probably working too hard."
"Maybe." She was definitely working too hard at trying to attract his attention, and with zero results. Her idea of being a peacemaker was probably doomed, as well. She should stick to what she knew—the setup of a race car—and leave this relationship stuff to others.
"But I want you to know that all that hard work hasn't gone unnoticed," he said.
"I appreciate that." She'd appreciate even more some indication that he found her attractive, but that didn't seem likely. He admired her for her ability to adjust a car's suspension so it hugged the curves. Unfortunately he didn't seem the least bit interested in hugging her curves.
Be sure to tune in for the next steamy installment of Tailpipe — your smutty NASCAR romance story hour!