Tuesday, September 29, 2009

How would you answer this:

Was it her or. . .?

Tuesday's writing prompt popped into my head as a I sat down to write in my WIP. Instead, I had to go with this.

Prompt: Was it her or. . .

There are so many ways this can go and I went what I hope was a light-hearted way. Let me know what you think and share your own results here.

Here's mine:

Was it her or . . .

Was it her or the wine? Did she really care? Heck no! her mind screamed. She was going home with a man she just met.

Not just any man, the most handsome man she had laid eyes on in nearly ten years. Jane shook her head. Scratch that. The most gorgeous hunk of a man she had EVER seen in her entire life. His steel blue eyes, dark hair, and square jaw made her mouth water. The way he wrapped his strong, warm arms around her, crushed her body to his, enveloping her as if they were longtime lovers. Jane squeezed her thighs together and rubbed them against each other. As heat pooled between her legs, a quiver of excitement raced up her spine, and she shivered.

“And, oh!” Jane licked her lips, tasted him, a mixture of whiskey and . . .blueberry? She felt the invisible pressure of his mouth against hers. When he kissed her, there was nothing gentle about it. The kiss was fiery hot and needy. It made her knees weak His kiss devoured her and with every thrust of his tongue, sent shock waves rippling through entire her body.

Her palms pressed against the counter next to the sink, Jane glanced up and gazed at her reflection in the restroom’s mirror. A slow, catlike grin slid across her lips as a fire and unbelievable happiness sparked in her eyes. “Yes!” she exclaimed with a toss of her head. “He made my toes curl!”

That single kiss and the fact that her toes curled made her want to leave with the man she just met. Not just go with him, but go and make love with him until the cows come home. Or longer.

“Second thoughts?” Jane eyed the flush of heat traveling up her neck, tingeing her cheeks. “Nope, not a one.”

This was not the wine talking. This was her. This was her need to be with a man who made her feel desirable and wanton and the knowledge that he was that man. No, she had no doubts whatsoever. In making her decision, Jane twisted the lock on the door, opened it, and stepped out to see the Garrett standing next to the exit, smiling at her. Her heart did a little dance then picked up the rhythm.

A set of keys dangled from one hand. The other he held out to her, palm up in invitation. “Your chariot awaits.”

Without hesitation, Jane took his offered hand and let him lead the way.


Ceri Hebert September 30, 2009 at 7:40 PM  
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ceri Hebert September 30, 2009 at 7:41 PM  

Going to try this again....


Was it her, or was Neal giving her a lot of covert glances. Lydia didn’t pay attention to what Audrey was saying, but instead sipped her drink and watched Neal through hooded eyes.

So far his group hadn’t made any moves to join them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. After all, he’d been paying her plenty of attention on the bus ride into Vegas that afternoon.

Damn him, she thought. Why did he have to play games? Was he interested or not?

Audrey jarred her out of her thoughts with a stab of her finger. “Stop drooling,” she ordered. “Why don’t you just go over there and talk to him?”

Lydia swallowed the last bit of her drink and put the glass down. “Because he’s a god and I’m a mere mortal.”

Audrey snorted and motioned for the cocktail waitress. “Two more of these thingies.”

Lydia knew she should stop. Already her head was started to swim and she couldn’t blame it all on the awesomeness that was Neal Girard. At the moment, though, all she had was the false courage the Long Island Iced Tea provided. One more and she’d go over to Neal, tell him that she loved him ever since she was three and please would he marry her.

And then she’d die from embarrassment when he’d say no.


Lydia cracked one eye open then immediately shut it. It let too much light in, which, in turn, threatened to crack her skull in half.

Maybe another hour or five of sleep would cure her of this sensation that she had a dry sock in her mouth. No, that was her tongue. She’d gone straight to hell, there was no way around it. She hoped Audrey felt just as horrendous.

Lydia turned over carefully, easing her head so the tremors of pain wouldn’t signal her precarious stomach to rebel. When her body came in contact with a large bulk, she forced her eyes open, despite the glaring light.

It took her about a second and a half to recognize the back of Neal’s head, the muscular torso that was as bare as hers.

Lydia sat up quickly, regretted the move when her stomach took a spin. To stop the topsy-turvy motion, she put her hands up to her head.

A flash of gold caught her bleary eye.

A wedding ring. Not real god, she was sure, but she knew a wedding ring when she saw one and she could be fairly sure Neal wore one just like it.

Just what the hell had happened last night?

Denise September 30, 2009 at 7:52 PM  

Ceri -
Great hook at the end.
I say and mean this in the nicest possible way. . .you suck!

I want to know more!

Ceri Hebert September 30, 2009 at 7:54 PM  

LOL Thanks! I was thinking of using this story line as part of my NaNoWriMo story (not that I could use this prompt). But it would be a heck of a beginning.

Denise September 30, 2009 at 8:01 PM  

Great idea! And why can't you use this prompt? I think it leaves it open to so much. Which is why I wrote it. HA!

Ceri Hebert October 1, 2009 at 4:58 AM  

NaNoWriMo is supposed to be completely new material, nothing written pre-Nov 1st. But there's no reason why I can't use this idea in the story. Unless I go with my original idea.

Denise October 1, 2009 at 5:26 AM  

Oh gotcha!

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