All she has to do to win the car of her dreams is survive the ride. . .
A young woman in a a low-paying job is given a chance to win the car of her dreams. All she has to do is go for a drive with a sexy rock star then sign her name on the dotted line. The ride turns daring in all sorts of ways, not all is as it seems, and what started as a dream may end up a nightmare.
Genre: Erotic Horror
Word count: 5400
Publication date: October 8, 2012
Publisher: Ace Services 4 Authors
SAMPLE. . .
It was the longest damn red light. Waiting, she sat in her car, such as it was – the vinyl on the dashboard faded and ripped, the steering wheel stained with years of hand prints. When she drove, each small bump in the road was a rattling jolt to the chassis, a hold-your-breath-while-it-settled event. She dared not drive it faster than she did. Now this light was going to make her late for work.
A thump-thump sound of bone knocking music infested her space and drowned out the soothing voice of public radio trying to come out of her one working speaker. She turned the volume button to the right. Maybe it was time for a new sound system.
Who was she kidding? She could barely afford the gas to get to work.
Tipping her head slightly to the side, she snuck a peek at the noise offender. A sleek, shiny red, convertible – with a douchebag driving, most likely. She glanced into the car for confirmation.
Shit! The driver grinned at her, dark glasses framing a chiseled face. A tumble of dark hair brushed his shoulders, waves so perfect they belonged in a shampoo commercial.
Douchebag, maybe, but a very sexy one.
He moved the glasses down, giving her one of those stares. She knew that look. That I’d-like-to-fuck-you stare. She answered the challenge with a teasing grin. Nothing wrong with flirting with a hot man before work.
Thump, thump, thump. The rhythm from his car swirled around her head, tendrils of sound vibrating her skin. The sultry notes dared her to take pleasure in the sound. As if her smile were a cue, the driver clapped his hands together and started a rhythmic dance in his car, bouncing his head and moving his lean shoulders from side to side. Maybe the music wasn’t so bad. She moved with him, giving in to the swells of music, her body swaying in time with his. Thump, thump, thump.
A honk brought her back to the now. She tore her eyes away from the man, regretting that the light had turned green. She put her car in gear. It sputtered then caught. It moved forward a block. It sputtered again. And then it lurched. Effing piece of crap car!
She should pull over. But work was only a short five minute drive away. She had to make it there or she’d lose her job. She couldn’t afford to lose her job again. The last time she’s been late, she’d been warned by her supervisor’s boss – the woman was a bitch who couldn’t be bribed with sexual temptations.
Without warning, the steering wheel savagely pulled to the left, as if unseen hands had yanked it. The front end of the car dipped and slanted to the side, bouncing in a rapid, staccato rhythm. Fate had given the final blow. She couldn’t drive on a flat.
She shouldn’t drive on a flat.
She looked at the clock on the dashboard, quickly calculating how long a tow truck would take to come to her rescue and change the tire, versus how much time she had to get to work. Ten minutes. That’s how long she had to get to work. A tow truck would take thirty. Walking would take twenty, make that forty, in the two-inch heels she’d worn today.
She slowed down and kept driving, pulling a little to the right so cars could pass. The car was a piece of junk, anyway.
Thump, thump, thump. Another red light. A different tune. But it was the same, sexy car and the same sexy man. He was staring at her again, this time his sunglasses completely off. She scowled, hiding the delightful shiver that ran through her body.
She knew him. Shit, she knew him! And she knew the song that thumped from his car into hers. It was his song.
He waved at her, his grin deepening, his head tilted to the seductive side. She quickly turned away, looking forward at the stop light, praying it had changed so she could move forward. Praying that it hadn’t changed so she could look back at him.
Could it really be Ben Higgins, the lead singer of the band, Kraken?
The light changed, but she didn’t move. She looked at him and almost squealed when he winked and waved again.
Acting cool – because how else would she act when music superstar, hottie, Ben Higgins had just winked and waved – she put the car in gear and hit the gas pedal. The car stuttered and jerked and bounced forward ten feet, then fifty. And then her car shut down. Completely, totally lost power as the engine stalled. Throwing it into neutral, she maneuvered it to the edge of the street, the brakes protesting every pump of her heeled foot.
Thump, thump, thump.
He pulled up in front of her. She watched, her jaw dropping down to her waist, as he climbed out of his car. His plain, gray t-shirt hugged the muscles of his arms, his chest hard and flat. It was tucked into his jeans, where his tapered waist looked ripped and ready to roll. She licked her lips as she watched him move, one confident step at a time. Yum. He was smiling at her. A shiver went down her back at his grin and her hand stayed on the door handle.