Turbulent Passion by G.L. Ross Deleted Scene #1
Upon entering Wayne’s home, Wayne immediately pours a glass of wine. “Wine, Lisa?”
“Sure, but just half a glass. I’ve already had two glasses and am really sleepy.”
“Do you want to head on to bed?” Oh jeez, no! Now I’m wide awake. Bed? I had not even thought about sleeping arrangements. This night is a complete and total clusterfuck!
“Uh, no, let’s visit and listen to music. I down the half glass of wine and request a refill.” Liquid courage, please come through. How did I not think about sleeping arrangements? Another Freudian slip?
Wayne turns on some music while explaining, “I created this mix for you, for us. All these songs remind me of you.”
“Wayne, that’s very sweet. You really are too good to me.” A nervous energy flows through my veins. Every word I utter sounds forced.
Wayne sits beside me on the couch draping an arm around my shoulders. “No, you just bring out the best in me, Lisa.” His hand brushes down my cheek and an electrical charge vibrates my senses. “You have no idea how beautiful you are which is what makes you even more stunning. Dance with me.” Wayne stands, takes my wine glass and sits it on the coffee table. Taking my hand he pulls me into his grasp. “I love holding you, smelling you, tasting you.” He nibbles my ear and once again I feel “that” ache. I so want him and I really want to forget Lance. I need to forget Lance. I need Wayne to kiss every inch of me and make “that” ache and Lance’s ache go away. “Do you like it when I kiss you here, Lisa?” He kisses my neck tracing my ear with his tongue.
“Yes,” I breathlessly utter.
“…and here?” He kisses the corner of my mouth. My breathing is labored.
“Yes, very much.” I think too much, but maybe this is what I need.
Wayne whispers in my ear, “Lisa, do you want me?”
My heart skips a beat. The song on the mix ends and there is silence between songs. “Yes, but I’m scared.”
With a lift of my chin, I look into his intense eyes, his intimidating eyes. “What are you afraid of? I will be gentle.” His hand massages the tension in my neck.
“I’m afraid of you leaving me, of breaking my heart.”
I wish God would send me a sign.
The next song begins to play and Oh My Gosh! It’s Chris Young singing, “Gettin’ You Home Tonight.” Is this a sign God?
“Lisa, why would I ever want to leave you? I told you, ‘you mesmerize me.’ I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone. Let me make love to you, baby.”
I’m stunned, excited, and over the top nervous. The look on his face and the tone in his voice leaves no doubt that he really wants me. Taking my trembling hand in his he leads me to his bedroom. Sometime between the tour of the house and now he has created a seductive backdrop, with candles all over his bedroom and white rose petals spread across the bed. It is a scene out of a romance novel. He is a master of seduction.
Wayne discards my cardigan exposing my hesitant flesh. Soothingly, he slips my camisole strap from my shoulder while spreading feather light kisses across my nape. I close my eyes, enjoying the long anticipated affection as he walks behind me. He lifts my camisole over my head. Opening my eyes I stare at the enticing, yet frightening bed. Standing naked from the waist up, reality slaps me in the face; this is going to happen - tonight. The “master of seduction” massages my shoulders, before exploring my body. His experienced hands make their way to my breasts. His fingers teasingly torment my nipples. My mind flashes to Lance. You have to forget Lance, Lisa. I find myself unconsciously surrendering to Wayne as I lean back into his arms.
His mouth begins, ever so gently, nibbling kisses up and down my neck. Just as I am beginning to relax, Wayne spins me around plunging his tongue into my gaping mouth. The darkness of his eyes says it all. He desires me and he is going to have me tonight, there’s no turning back.
My skirt is on the floor before I know what has happened and his hands are inside my lace panties. Slowly enticing me with his moans he lowers my panties to the floor. Unexpectedly, Wayne abruptly stops his quest. Stepping back, he begins to undress for me. He’s so at ease with his nakedness. I’m frozen and in absolute awe of his beautifully sculpted body. His arms and chest are a sea of muscles, rippling and strong. His narrow hips merge into large, powerful thighs. I want to touch him, but instead I simply stare as he removes his jeans.
Oh my gracious, he definitely desires me - there is no doubt.
“Take my hand, Lisa.” Nervously, I respond. He leads me to his bed never breaking eye contact. He places a kiss on my palm, prior to placing my hand on his chest. Like a child experimenting with a new toy, I stroke and search the strong and sturdy muscles that lure me. I do want him. My mind, heart, and flesh are viciously warring with each other. Weakened by the night’s activities and the desire to forget I search for the tangible; I choose to focus on the sexy man standing in front of me, nude, desiring to possess me. Nothing else matters at this moment. My flesh wins the war.
“Lisa, I will ask you again, ‘do you want me? Do you want me to make love to you? Here? Right now?’”
I nod my head affirmatively.
With his hands on my shoulders, Wayne sternly demands, “No Lisa, I told you one day you would beg me to release the passion inside of you, so I need to hear you say it.”
I stand perfectly still while listening to the intense pounding of my racing heart. I’m desperately trying to absorb this monumental moment. A man is about to make love to me. My mind is screaming, “No,” but my flesh has surrendered and is waving the white flag. Releasing my held breath I softly respond, “Wayne, kiss every inch of me - I want you, now.”
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The Flyboy Trilogy
Print Length: 213 pages
Bold, arrogant, and gorgeous are three words which describe the playboy of International Air, Captain Lance Miller. Unbeknownst, to everyone touching Lance’s life, is the fact Lance harbors a secret, a secret which continues to affect his relationship with all women. Love and trust do not exist in Lance’s world, only lust, sex, dominance, and an occasional busty blond.
Naïve, new hire, Flight Attendant, Lisa Price recently graduated from college and is desperately searching for her destiny, a destiny which at this time does not include a man, especially a pilot. Lisa is driven to succeed in all areas of her life, but she too has a secret. A secret she must choose to be embarrassed by or to honorably embrace.
Is it possible these polar opposites will find passion and trust in each other’s arms, enabling them to relinquish control and share their secrets, or is their attraction far too turbulent to pursue?
Discover Lance & Lisa’s secrets in Book One of the Flyboy Trilogy: Turbulent Passion.
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Every night I see her in my dreams. Honestly, I can’t remember a single night I didn’t dream of her. Her mesmerizing emerald green eyes began haunting me in my early teens. I would wake from a wet dream, with her eyes penetrating my thoughts and desires. For years, I searched for her in malls, movie theatres, at sporting events, but to no avail. Eventually, I surrendered my hopes and dreams of finding the “green-eyed goddess” and began screwing every brick-house blond I could find.
I relentlessly tried to erase and escape the memories of the goddesses’ long blond hair, her perfect petite body with sculpted tits and perky nipples, and the way my hands fit perfectly around her tiny, tempting, curvy waist. But, damn it, I can’t forget her alluring smile as she wraps her toned legs around my waist and lowers onto my hard, pulsing dick. We fit – together – perfectly. Her green eyes turn black as our ride delves deeper and I push her toward her second scream worthy orgasm. Her creamy, sweet, ivory skin drives me wild, especially her soft, silky neck, which is completely exposed when her head drops back as she cums. My tongue traces and teases her every nook and cranny until I can no longer resist biting her gorgeous, plump bottom lip. Her eyes flash open wide in response. Hunger radiates in her eyes. We never get enough of each other. She makes me feel things I never imagined possible. I never thought I could desire one person twenty-four hours a day, but I do. Who is this green eyed goddess?
Trust me, I realize she is a fantasy, but even after twenty years, every single, testosterone filled day, I continue my search for her, in airport terminals and hotel lobbies. Hell, what would I do if I found her? Attack and grope her? Sure, I can see it now, “You don’t know me but we have hot, mind blowing sex together. We have for twenty years.” That would go over well…Not!
I need a cold shower, along with a reality check. Wonder if I have a curvy blond on tonight’s flight attendant crew? Someone to bury myself in while I close my eyes and imagine those gorgeous, green eyes glazing over as I palm her firm, full breast, while rubbing my thumb over her erect nipple. Damn! I am obsessed!
Maybe I’ll go to graduate school. I could become a psychologist; all my friends think I am their twenty-four hour on-call shrink anyway.
Maryanne rang me at two thirty this morning. Woke me up to cry and complain about how Matt had broken her heart. “He is so unromantic. It is our one year anniversary and he takes me to an action flick. An action flick, can you believe that Lisa? Then he wants to go do it in the back of his car, really? I mean really?” I wait to make sure she is really finished. Maryanne asks numerous questions, but doesn’t actually want you to respond, to any of them. She merely wants to vent to the Universe.
“Maryanne, has Matt ever done anything you wanted to do the entire time you’ve been seeing him? No, he hasn’t.” This time I won’t allow her time to answer my question. Yes, I am annoyed. She woke me up to complain about Matt’s, unfortunately, normal behavior, which she chooses to put up with on a daily basis. There’s absolutely no need for her to answer the question or make excuses for him or herself.
“But, Lisa he loves me. I know he does.” Blah, blah, blah.
I bury my head under my large, fluffy pillow. “Okay, let’s say he does, just for grins sake, but does he respect you? Obviously not, so move on and find someone who deserves you and cares about your feelings. Men need to treat women with respect and love. Never settle for less, Maryanne.”
“Lisa, you are so strong. I’m not like you. I’m not that strong, plus I get lonely. I don’t know what I would do without Matt. I can’t go without someone, like you do.” Thanks for reminding me.
Frustration builds as I roll onto my back; turning my head I stare at the time on the alarm clock. “Maryanne, Maryanne,” I condescendingly mutter. “Go see Matt later today and tell him how he made you feel. Now, please, for the love of Pete, get some sleep. Good night - good morning - good whatever the hell time of day it is.”
“Night, Lisa. I love you, thanks for listening.”
I can’t help but moan while dropping the phone back on my bedside table. Why is it women allow themselves to be treated disrespectfully? I would rather be alone then be with someone like Matt.
“Anyway, back to present day and today’s mission. Graduate school in psychology might work. I could even find a part time job while going to classes or work during the day and classes at night. Of course I’d better get busy applying to universities today, it may be too late to apply and receive acceptance.” Why am I speaking out loud to myself? I really need to get a life and soon.
I locate the graduate school application site for The University of Texas at Dallas. “Let’s see, age? Twenty-three.” Yes, I took the five year plan through college. I changed degrees three times and dropped classes due to late night partying causing oversleeping of 8:00 AM classes. Why would anyone want to teach an 8:00 AM class? Ugh, painful memory.
“What?” I respond to an unexpected knock at my door, “Who could that be?” Speaking to the air, again, Lisa. You really need to stop talking to yourself.
My vibrant friend, Lucy, greets me at the door. Lucy is really short, petite, and a bundle full of energy. We met doing volunteer work last summer at the animal shelter. We weren’t much help though, because we wanted to play with all of the animals rather than clean their cages.
“Hey girl, what are you doing?”
Lucy pats me on the face and heads into my den while extending a backwards compliment, “Oh, Miss Lisa. You are so pretty, even without your make up.” That’s my Lucy. She knows I hate wearing make-up, especially when at home. I figure I’m not going anywhere to try and impress anyone, so why hassle with it. Lucy, on the other hand, always looks perfect and doesn’t know or understand the true meaning of dressing casual. If she runs to the grocery store she has full make-up and hair. She’s a flight attendant for International Air and seems to think she is always on a plane; crisp and perfect all the frickin’ time.
“Lisa, I’ve had a fabulous idea, so you need to dig out a picture of you smiling and with make-up; a color one that shows off those magnificent green eyes.”
I climb into my oversized yellow chair, tucking my legs under my tush. “Lucy, please have a seat and why do you need my picture?”
Lucy chooses to sit on the edge of my robin egg blue sofa, crossing her ankles, again so prim and proper. “You, my dear, are filling out an application to be a flight attendant, with me! Isn’t that great?” She exuberantly declares.
“I can’t be a flight attendant. I don’t even like flying. My ears hurt and I absolutely hate heights.”
Flashing her dynamic, “hello – good-bye,” smile she attempts to convince me, “It will be fine. When you are talking to passengers your ears stay open and you never have time to look out the window, so you will have no idea how high you are.”
I attempt an explanation, “I was filling out an application for grad school when you knocked on the door. I’ve decided to get my masters in psychology. I’m going to get paid for all of my late night counseling.” That should appease her…maybe.
“That is terrific Lisa, but you can still fly.” Why did I know she would say that? “You will fly on the weekends and go to class during the week. You can even study on your overnights, it is perfect. Now get me that picture.” So much for appeasing her.
About the Author:
G.L. Ross is a proud, sixth generation, native Texan. As a true Southern Belle, G.L. has always dreamt of the “happily ever after,” the prince riding in on the white horse sweeping her off her feet. She hasn’t found “Prince Charming” – yet (always an optimist) – but finds him every time she writes about her characters “happily ever after” endings.
Her motto in life is to “always find the good” in every person and situation.
Whether through laughter, prayer, or a glass of wine or vodka, G.L. finds the good in life and shares her sense of humor, love, and adventure in her stories. Take flight with Lance & Lisa in Turbulent Passion, the first book in the Flyboy Trilogy.
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