Playboy Prankster

by Pamela Britton

  Smiles and giggles,

  Pamela

  About the Author

  With over a million books in print, Pamela Britton likes to call herself the best known author nobody’s ever heard of. Of course, that’s begun to change thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR.

  But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by The Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT BOOKclub Magazine. She’s won numerous writing awards, including the National Reader’s Choice Award, and a nomination for Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart.

  When not writing romance novels, Pamela competes all over kingdom come on her American Quarter Horse, Bippidy Boppin Along, aka: Bippy, the Bipster or Bubba-Dubba. Check her schedule. She might be coming to a town near you.

  Pamela loves to hear from readers. Feel free to contact her through her web site at www.pamelabritton.com or through Facebook at www.facebook.com/pamelabritton.

  Look for these titles by Pamela Britton

  Coming Soon:

  The Extreme Racing Series

  Dodging explosions, crashing cars, jumping off rooftops…and falling in love.

  Driven to Distraction

  © 2007 Ashleigh Raine

  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…

  Warning, Jay and Blaina are imaginative in their proclivities. There’s lots of sex in, on and around cars. Sex in public places, sex in a hotel room, masturbation, exhibitionism, oral sex, anal sex, spanking, minor bondage of the tie-me-up-and-have-your-wicked-way-with-me kind and sex with a foreign object.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Driven to Distraction:

  Blaina stared at Jay, leaning insolently against his car, and she desperately tried to erase her thoughts of big engines and big cocks. His arms were crossed over a blue T-shirt the same haunting color as his eyes. His jeans were faded, more gray than black, and he wore the work boots she remembered so well.

  Dammit, he’d done it again, stepping out of her fantasy, exactly what she wanted. But he’d said something, hadn’t he? She just couldn’t remember anything beyond how damn good he looked. “What?”

  “Your theory. Experience versus…” Jay paused, looking her up and down, “…desire. Your desire to show me up.”

  She shook her head, unable to hide her smirk. “You really think I’d let you win?”

  His Barracuda was parked behind her, a bit more polished than the last time she’d seen it. Still the same old rust bucket, but the front end looked lower. He must have done a few upgrades. “I don’t think you’d ever just let anyone do anything.”

  “Right you are.” She unlocked her car and tossed her bag onto the floor. “Hmmm…check that out.” Blaina gestured to her car, then his. “Your nose is up my ass this time. You must really like rear end. Care to see more of it?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you’d push that rear end around the next corner while I slid in front of it. ’Cause I know you wanna check out my ass.”

  “Right. You gonna shake it for me too?” Blaina hopped in her car and started it up before sticking her head out the window and calling back. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Hell, last time, you looked more like a Ford…Found Off Road Dead. Yeah, Mopar Barracuda as in More Parts. When are you gonna put all your parts together into a real ride?”

  “Why don’t you shake that ass of yours and let’s blow this joint?”

  Blaina wrinkled her nose at him. Poor boy didn’t have a snappy comeback. “Start blowing, sweetheart.” She licked her lips and blew him a kiss, laughing when he made shooing motions with his hands.

  She ducked back into the car, ignoring her galloping heart. Ignoring everything but the powerful metal under her control and the powerful man she was going to blow off the asphalt.

  She revved her engine before popping it into gear and taking off for the exit. As she paused to check oncoming traffic, she heard Jay’s Barracuda roar up behind her. Wow. He’d definitely spiced it up. The idle loped, sounding like a ferocious beast ready to devour anything in its path.

  Didn’t mean he’d be able to keep up.

  Stomping the gas pedal, she fishtailed onto the street and high-tailed on down to the intersection. While waiting for the light to change, she considered the best places to take this race. The freeway held some good potential. After two in the morning was one of the only times Los Angeles freeways were clear of traffic. As long as there weren’t any cops around, they could race wide open.

  Jay whipped around the corner as the light changed, but she held him off, in fact, cutting him off as she turned onto the on-ramp. Shifting up through the gears, she merged onto the 405 South, not sure where to go other than straight ahead…and ahead of Jay for as long as possible.

  But his big block ’Cuda caught up and passed her as soon as the lanes opened up. Then her cell phone started ringing. She grabbed the earpiece and shoved it in her ear as she pressed talk. “Hey.”

  “Whose nose is up whose ass now?” Jay’s laugh crackled through the phone.

  “Oh, give me a break, Jay. I’m driving a small block. Am I supposed to be impressed that you can floor it and pass me? You may have a big engine, but it doesn’t mean you know how to use it. Quality is better than quantity.”

  He chuckled and hung up.

  At their speed, they finally caught up to a cluster of cars, humming down the road at normal, predictable speeds. She dropped a gear and came up on Jay’s left just as he was about to switch lanes. Tossing him a grin, she shifted into fifth and blocked him in behind a semi and a U-Haul. He hit the brakes hard and pulled around behind her where he rightfully belonged. She changed lanes, sliding between the U-Haul and a station wagon. Jay was stuck in second place as she hung behind the truck until there was a little over a car length between it and the wagon. She swept into the right lane and downshifted to put some distance between her and Jay.

  The 10 freeway was looking like it could be fun, especially if Jay couldn’t get over in enough time. He’d have to backtrack and catch up with her—she might even be nice and wait for him, just to rub it in. The off-ramp was empty so Blaina took the curve, barely sticking to the pavement without drifting out of her lane.

  Once onto the 10, she checked her gauges. She had plenty of gas, the car was running cool and her oil pressure was steady. It was perfect weather for messing around. She passed a few cars before Jay finally caught up. He got right next to her and grinned before dropping his foot. So he wanted to play pin the needle, did he?

  Not much of a sparring sport watching your speedometer rise and top out, but equally as wild. She stomped the pedal to the floor. One ten… One fifteen… One twenty…

  And Jay was flying far ahead.

  Her needle was pinned…no longer moving…stuck at one twenty, but her car was still pulling.

  He was about five car lengths up. Then
he slammed on the brakes, keeping control as he slowed. Blaina reacted in kind. Must be a cop ahead.

  Sure enough. She slid behind Jay as they brought it back down to sixty-five. Her phone rang again. “What do you want?”

  “Are you impressed yet?”

  “Your ability to turn a wrench doesn’t surprise me since I can do the same. And why would I ever be impressed that you can see a cop?”

  “No, impressed at how nice my ass looks, since you’ve been staring at it for the past five miles.”

  “You may have a fine ass, but I prefer a man pinned to my rear, sliding in from behind.” Blaina hung up on him, body humming, feeling naughtier than ever and loving every damn minute.

  The cop got off at the next exit and Blaina wasted no time hauling past Jay as the 10 emptied onto Pacific Coast Highway. He didn’t immediately catch up to her. Why was he taking it so slow? Did the cop get back on the freeway?

  No, Jay probably just wanted to set her up to eat his dust. Down to two lanes, it wasn’t as easy to keep Mr. Big Block at bay. She let him pass. It was fun to let him lead anyway. Although she couldn’t help but wonder when he’d throw it into a slide and try to lose her at a corner.

  The next light was red. She switched lanes to get next to him, but the light changed and they both had the same idea. Squealing tires, smoke everywhere, they launched together. She had him off the line, but he caught up before they’d fully crossed the intersection. She fought her way through the gears, hoping he’d be too zealous and miss a shift, allowing her to get ahead.

  Wish granted, she pulled out in front of him and swished in his face. Her phone rang and she answered it.

  “I never thought Camaro ass would look so pretty shaking in front of me.”

  “I guess Plymouth spent extra money making that front end look so good in a rear-view mirror. Care for some dust on that rust?” She grinned. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. Switching her nitrous oxide system to ready, she pressed the button and promptly lost traction before hooking and taking off faster than Jay could compensate for. But she knew it would only be a matter of moments before he was back on her tail.

  “Squeezing the juice is cheating, my dear.” At least he sounded amused.

  “Run what you brung, pal.”

  “Injection is nice, but I’d rather be blown.”

  Oh God, she couldn’t hold back, even if someone were to gag her. Flames of desire licked over her flesh, her cunt burned and it didn’t matter how many times she shifted in her seat, her pants weren’t getting any looser. “Oh really? That’s not what I remember. You seemed rather impartial as to which you preferred.”

  This time, Jay hung up, speeding around her. She stayed right on his tail, watching his every glide, swerving right along with him as though their bumpers had been chained together. He tried to shake her, but she refused. She was on him…wishing he were on her…wishing he were in her.

  Without warning, he threw his car around a corner onto one of the small canyon roads. Like he could shake her that easily.

  Whipping after him, she caught up as he pulled off in a turnout. Brake lights flashed as he came to a halt. She parked behind him, not even caring that the race had ended with him in the lead.

  He stepped out of his car and she did the same, grinning from ear to ear. “Calling it a night already? You know I could’ve taken you—”

  She froze in mid-sentence as he stormed toward her, eyes dark, body tight. All those hard sculpted muscles wrapped up in such a beautiful package, determinedly striding her way, like a predator ready to strike. Her natural fight or flight instinct kicked in, fiercely pumping adrenaline through her bloodstream, making her already hot body burn. But even as his chosen prey, there was no way in hell she was running away from him.

  Jay drew to a halt a foot away from her, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, his arms at his sides, hands curled into fists. Not angry. At least she didn’t think so. Just tense. Powerful. His normal stance when he didn’t have a clipboard, a tool or her breast in his hand.

  Nipples growing tight, she crossed her arms over the announcement of her arousal and stared at his chest, remembering the way he looked standing naked in front of her. Sun-stained bronze liberally sprinkled with crisp golden curls, muscles tight beneath her exploring fingers. The Celtic flame tattoo that burned along his breastbone, adding an air of danger and intrigue that drew her in like a moth to a flame. Her fingers itched to rip off his blue T-shirt, to force him to show some emotion other than the steely gaze currently pinning her in place.

  Blaina tilted her head back and met him stare for stare. “Are we just gonna stand here all night staring at each other?”

  “Maybe.”

  His simple reply, or perhaps it was how he said it, a deep sizzling vibration of sound, had an annoying effect on her libido, making her stomach clench and toes curl. How sick was she that an indecisive word could make her pant like a dog in heat? If he said a full sentence would she hump his leg? Good lord, she was pathetic.

  She blew out a furious breath, angry with both herself and Jay. Even knowing the consequences, she was ready to throw her brain and clothing out the window for one more chance to fuck him.

  To avoid pulling him down to her level for a game of tonsil hockey, she tucked her hands in her back pockets. But her forced air of nonchalance had another side effect, thrusting her breasts, erect nipples and all, out in a “please fondle me” manner.

  Jay inhaled sharply.

  So the man could emote on occasion given the right stimulus. She tested her theory, leaning back against her car, keeping her breasts aimed outward and upward. His gaze followed her tits like they were bouncing black balls on karaoke night. It made her want to break out into song. Maybe “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover” would do the trick.

  But making Jay deaf with her wailings wasn’t exactly what she wanted to accomplish tonight.

  He moved in close until the only way she could escape would be to climb over her car. As if she’d chance denting it like that. His gaze remained locked on hers. Blue had never been such a warm color before.

  “You know, Jay, today was long and hot and tiring and as stimulating as this game of ‘let’s see who blinks first’ is, I’m gonna have to—”

  Before she could finish, his body met hers, sandwiching her between hard metal and even harder Jay. His calloused palms scratched over her bare arms, making her gasp, making her flesh ache for more, for deeper penetration, for her body to be consumed by his hands and mouth. She was ready to beg for him to end the torment, when his grip moved to her neck, tipping her head back.

  “You blinked,” was all he said before his lips ground down against hers, sucking away all rational thought. He devoured, tongue driving into her mouth with volatile force. In return, she dished out everything she had. Pouring into him, marking him, trying to ensure that come morning, he couldn’t wipe her from his mind.

  Some rules just beg to be broken.

  Just Like That

  © 2010 Erin Nicholas

  The Bradfords, Book 2

  Danika Steffen can take care of herself. Watching her mother slowly succumb to muscular dystrophy convinced Danika that total independence is the only way to go. Anything that needs fixing, she’s got the tools. So what if she’s never had an orgasm. No one really needs one, right?

  Sam Bradford is good at two things: his job as a paramedic, and seducing women. Being dependable? Not so much. Losing his father at age fifteen tore a permanent hole in his life, and now he’s determined never to let anyone need him that much. Enjoying women, though, is definitely on the menu. As long as they understand his unbreakable rule: one night only. Until a date with Danika Steffen ends not in her bed, but with a trip to the ER.

  Danika may have a broken wrist, but Sam’s the one suffering…an intense case of guilt. And instead of doing things to her, he only wants to do things for her. Which would drive her crazy if not for the sneaking suspicion that Sam needs a little
TLC too. And damned if she doesn’t want to be the one to give it…

  Warning: Contains an I’ll-do-it-myself girl who can fix anything, a commitment-phobic guy who can’t fix anything, and a whole new way to look at butter. Yes, butter.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Just Like That:

  She was desperate. Plain and simple. She had to wash her hair or she was going to go crazy and there was absolutely no way she could do it herself.

  It was so frustrating! To not be able to do the simplest, most normal thing made her want to scream. She didn’t want to need Sam, not like this. She was kind of okay with needing him physically, with feeling like she would die if he didn’t touch her. At least, she was getting used to it. She wasn’t as okay with needing him to make her a sandwich, unzip her dress and wash her hair.

  Talk about pathetic.

  This was exactly the kind of thing she avoided at all costs. She never let other people take care of her. She’d been sick with the flu for almost a week four years ago and it had taken her three days to call Carmen and even tell her and another two before she would let Carmen come over. She hated the feeling of vulnerability, of weakness, of being a burden.

  Sam thought this was fun now. He felt responsible now. He was even making it sexy.

  How long would any of that last?

  Not as long as she would remember being dependent on him for the smallest thing.

  She was able to wiggle out of her panties and the nightgown was loose enough that she could pull it over her head one-handed. The swimming suit was more of a challenge. It was a one-piece and she was able to get the bottom of the suit up by pulling one side up, then the other until it was in place. She threaded her casted hand in through the strap and up onto her shoulder, then the other side.