I’m going to be posting ALL the cut scenes/character interviews/outtakes from Stone this week. I’ll be culminating the bonus material on Friday with a special Halloween sneak peek at Love, In the Fast Lane!
You can get your copies here:
STONE: Amazon
LOVE: Preorder now! Coming December 11, 2014.
AmazonGoodreads
You can get your copies here:
STONE: Amazon
LOVE: Preorder now! Coming December 11, 2014.
AmazonGoodreads
What else happened when Josh returned from Atlanta? He did a little dress shopping for Leelee. Because…well…remember when he ripped her pretty dress straight off her body? Mm hmm. Yeah.
Deleted Scene from STONE, AT YOUR SERVICE
Carolina Bad Boys #1
From Chapter 16 Not Romancing the Stone
Forgiveness and a future with Leelee, that’s what I was aiming for. I didn’t send her flowers. That’d be lame. Instead, I came up with something much more meaningful.
During a Saturday in the middle of July—six lonely and happy and fucked-up and horny weeks since I’d touched or talked to Leelee—I walked into a highfalutin boutique in the Towne Centre.
I loomed over the dress racks and heard a feminine squeak, “Oh, my!”
I sent a smirk in return.
Back in Atlanta, I’d destroyed Leelee’s dress, ripping it in half to get her naked for me. I was going to redress that, in a manner of speaking. This place was as good as any to start. I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was looking for, but I knew Leelee’s body, I knew her style, and I knew what she looked good in.
A highly polished young woman joined me. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yeah.” I scraped a palm across the stubble on my jaw. “I need to buy a dress for a really sexy woman. But it can’t be cheap or tacky.” I pointed at something with peacock blue sequins. “My woman’s pure class.”
The salesclerk cleared her throat, her pulse butterflying under the skin. “Any idea what color she might prefer?”
“She’s a redhead. Fucking handfuls of the gorgeous, strawberry blond stuff. Creamy skin, like icing on a cake that’s never been touched.”
Lifting a finger to her mouth, she said, “Perfect. Let’s look for gem tones and a few pastels. Evening or day?”
“Day.” Definitely. I wanted Leelee to be able to wear it a lot—and think of me every time she did.
“Size?” She showed me some kind of dress chart that made no sense whatsoever to me.
I knew her size all right, though. I formed nice, big curves with my hands. “Her breasts are like this, they fit my palms just right. And her bottom, it’s heart-shaped, more than a handful. She’s got full hips and her waist . . .” I made a slim cylinder between my palms. “Hourglass, right? And her legs, oh man. Leelee’s got legs up to there, ya know?”
“How tall does she measure against you in heels?”
“She’s got some wicked stilettos, about four inches, I’d say. When she wears those, she comes up to my chin.” I smiled. “Her head tucks right against my throat.”
“Curvaceous, probably a size 8/10, depending on the designer.” The salesgirl whipped out a measuring tape and draped it around her neck. Flicking her eyes from my Adam’s apple to the top of my head, she visually translated the measurements.
That sounded about right, the lady seemed to know her stuff. “Yeah, she’s got a banging body,” I agreed.
Sitting me down in a cushy area surrounded by shoe racks, mirrors, and purses, the young lady shut her eyes. She hummed for a few seconds then smiled with one finger pointed in the air. “You sit tight now, I’ll be right back.”
Several minutes later, she returned with an armload of dresses she carefully hung on a rack beside me. Over the next half-hour, we went through every single one of them. She named off styles and fabrics while I picked out my favorites and discarded many more, narrowing it down to five.
“What’s her personality like?”
I leaned back with a laugh. “She’s feisty as hell. Soft, sweet, and sassy, too. Leelee’s so sexy she makes my mouth dry up until I just need to taste her—sometimes she does it on purpose, other times she has no idea. And she can be shy, shy around other people, but not me.”
Pursing her lips, she walked back and forth along the garments. She stopped, plucked out the dress I’d been eyeing, and held it out. “The Gloriana.”
Yeah. A slow grin spread across my face. On Leelee, the dress would be formfitting from the low-cut bodice to the tiny sleeves that would sit just off her shoulders. The skirt was pencil-slim with a slit up the back. Fuck yeah. I fingered the soft material.
The woman smoothed her hand over the garment. “Silk jersey. Large lilac flowers on a soft yellow background will go wonderfully with her hair—”
“She’s gonna look drop-dead in it.” My voice lowered into a husky tone.
She returned shortly after leaving me with the dress and my daydreams. “Shoes, of course.”
I looked at the high heeled things she carried—shiny, taupe leather—good Lord, yes. “I’ll take it all.”
The sales assistant rang me up while I thanked her. “You nailed it.”
“No, sir, not at all. You did.” Her smile was bright, even though we’d pretty much wrecked the joint and she had a lot of cleanup to do after I left. “She’s a lucky woman, your woman.”
“I don’t know about that. I kind of fucked up with her. Sorry ’bout the language, miss.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Perhaps she’ll accept your apology. Should I gift wrap it for you?”
Hell yes. With ribbons, bows, and all that kind of crap.
Leaving the boutique with my packages, the dress, the shoes, the whole nine yards, I’d made a huge dent in my bank account and I didn’t regret it one bit. I’d never bought clothing for a woman before. I liked it doing it for Leelee.
I Fed-Exed that motherfucker right away with no ulterior motive other than to replace something I’d ruined, fix something I’d damaged. It was so much more than a dress between Leelee and me.
_____________________________
Way to go, Josh! I hope you enjoyed that little extra scene from Stone, At Your Service. Don’t forget to get your copies, and leave me some sugar on Amazon.
From Chapter 16 Not Romancing the Stone
Forgiveness and a future with Leelee, that’s what I was aiming for. I didn’t send her flowers. That’d be lame. Instead, I came up with something much more meaningful.
During a Saturday in the middle of July—six lonely and happy and fucked-up and horny weeks since I’d touched or talked to Leelee—I walked into a highfalutin boutique in the Towne Centre.
I loomed over the dress racks and heard a feminine squeak, “Oh, my!”
I sent a smirk in return.
Back in Atlanta, I’d destroyed Leelee’s dress, ripping it in half to get her naked for me. I was going to redress that, in a manner of speaking. This place was as good as any to start. I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was looking for, but I knew Leelee’s body, I knew her style, and I knew what she looked good in.
A highly polished young woman joined me. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yeah.” I scraped a palm across the stubble on my jaw. “I need to buy a dress for a really sexy woman. But it can’t be cheap or tacky.” I pointed at something with peacock blue sequins. “My woman’s pure class.”
The salesclerk cleared her throat, her pulse butterflying under the skin. “Any idea what color she might prefer?”
“She’s a redhead. Fucking handfuls of the gorgeous, strawberry blond stuff. Creamy skin, like icing on a cake that’s never been touched.”
Lifting a finger to her mouth, she said, “Perfect. Let’s look for gem tones and a few pastels. Evening or day?”
“Day.” Definitely. I wanted Leelee to be able to wear it a lot—and think of me every time she did.
“Size?” She showed me some kind of dress chart that made no sense whatsoever to me.
I knew her size all right, though. I formed nice, big curves with my hands. “Her breasts are like this, they fit my palms just right. And her bottom, it’s heart-shaped, more than a handful. She’s got full hips and her waist . . .” I made a slim cylinder between my palms. “Hourglass, right? And her legs, oh man. Leelee’s got legs up to there, ya know?”
“How tall does she measure against you in heels?”
“She’s got some wicked stilettos, about four inches, I’d say. When she wears those, she comes up to my chin.” I smiled. “Her head tucks right against my throat.”
“Curvaceous, probably a size 8/10, depending on the designer.” The salesgirl whipped out a measuring tape and draped it around her neck. Flicking her eyes from my Adam’s apple to the top of my head, she visually translated the measurements.
That sounded about right, the lady seemed to know her stuff. “Yeah, she’s got a banging body,” I agreed.
Sitting me down in a cushy area surrounded by shoe racks, mirrors, and purses, the young lady shut her eyes. She hummed for a few seconds then smiled with one finger pointed in the air. “You sit tight now, I’ll be right back.”
Several minutes later, she returned with an armload of dresses she carefully hung on a rack beside me. Over the next half-hour, we went through every single one of them. She named off styles and fabrics while I picked out my favorites and discarded many more, narrowing it down to five.
“What’s her personality like?”
I leaned back with a laugh. “She’s feisty as hell. Soft, sweet, and sassy, too. Leelee’s so sexy she makes my mouth dry up until I just need to taste her—sometimes she does it on purpose, other times she has no idea. And she can be shy, shy around other people, but not me.”
Pursing her lips, she walked back and forth along the garments. She stopped, plucked out the dress I’d been eyeing, and held it out. “The Gloriana.”
Yeah. A slow grin spread across my face. On Leelee, the dress would be formfitting from the low-cut bodice to the tiny sleeves that would sit just off her shoulders. The skirt was pencil-slim with a slit up the back. Fuck yeah. I fingered the soft material.
The woman smoothed her hand over the garment. “Silk jersey. Large lilac flowers on a soft yellow background will go wonderfully with her hair—”
“She’s gonna look drop-dead in it.” My voice lowered into a husky tone.
She returned shortly after leaving me with the dress and my daydreams. “Shoes, of course.”
I looked at the high heeled things she carried—shiny, taupe leather—good Lord, yes. “I’ll take it all.”
The sales assistant rang me up while I thanked her. “You nailed it.”
“No, sir, not at all. You did.” Her smile was bright, even though we’d pretty much wrecked the joint and she had a lot of cleanup to do after I left. “She’s a lucky woman, your woman.”
“I don’t know about that. I kind of fucked up with her. Sorry ’bout the language, miss.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Perhaps she’ll accept your apology. Should I gift wrap it for you?”
Hell yes. With ribbons, bows, and all that kind of crap.
Leaving the boutique with my packages, the dress, the shoes, the whole nine yards, I’d made a huge dent in my bank account and I didn’t regret it one bit. I’d never bought clothing for a woman before. I liked it doing it for Leelee.
I Fed-Exed that motherfucker right away with no ulterior motive other than to replace something I’d ruined, fix something I’d damaged. It was so much more than a dress between Leelee and me.
_____________________________
Way to go, Josh! I hope you enjoyed that little extra scene from Stone, At Your Service. Don’t forget to get your copies, and leave me some sugar on Amazon.
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