Your Moment Of Auto-Erotica: "Oh, How He Tempted Her."

We recently discovered—but then forget—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 Shades of Love, by Dorien Kelly & Barbara Dunlop:

When was the last time she had kissed a man with more than just a quick, casual brush of the lips? Claire knew the answer to that question the instant Derek's mouth settled against hers: it had been far too long. She had nearly forgotten the pleasure of having someone so close, of learning someone new.

She had kept her passion banked because she was a particular woman. No man until Derek had tempted her. And, oh, how he tempted her.

The man knew how to kiss; he was a veritable prodigy, and she was glad to savor his skills. In some abstract way, she knew this was evidence he had kissed many women, but right now she didn't care. Claire invited him in deeper, hotter and was glad that she did.

She let her fingers drift to his short-cropped hair, its wiry texture so different than her own loose waves. Her heart pounded as she imagined the golden color of her skin against his burnished shade of cocoa. It would be beautiful...unforgettable.

Claire felt the warm and slightly rough texture of his palm against the bare skin of her back. She had no idea how or just when he'd worked his hand beneath her T-shirt, but she welcomed his touch and wished for more.

Still kissing her, Derek urged her back against the closed door and let the hard planes of his body press into her. She was a practical woman, an orderly woman...one whose siblings chided her for putting her imagination under wraps. But she had imagination enough to be picturing what it would be like to make love with Derek. Her mind was well down that lush and heated trail when it was drawn back by the hip-hop song of a cell phone. And that song seemed to be coming from somewhere in the tight space between her body and Derek's. She drew away from his kiss.

"Your phone, it's ringing."

"It will stop," he said.

He had a point, but her mind was clearing now. She wasn't with some man on a date. She was with the head of a youth program, in his office. The phone was still ringing, and for all that she knew, it would be followed by a knock on the door. And she'd lay odds that Shanisse was still out there, just waiting to give her a "so teacher got held after class?" interrogation.

Derek's mouth traveled close...too close...to her personal weak spot where her neck curved down to her collarbone. If she didn't stop him now, she guaranteed she'd be the one urging them on, Shanisse or no Shanisse.

Be sure to tune in for the next moment of steamy Auto-Erotica—your smutty NASCAR romance story hour.