Missing Colton? I do too, so I’ll share some…deleted scene from Crashed
It has come to my attention that some of you – just a few – might be missing Colton right about now…it’s been almost a month and withdrawals are in full effect (or so I’m being told). Don’t worry, I miss him too!
When you write a book, you write a scene and sometimes it’s just not right. Sometimes your beta readers tell you that it’s a good scene but it adds nothing to the story…that hearing Colton’s POV in that scene offers nothing beneficial to the story line. You, as the author may love it, but if it doesn’t work, you can’t force it. You put the scene aside and rewrite it.
So here is one such scene from Crashed…a particular scene between Colton and Rylee…you’ve read it from her perspective…here’s a bit of Colton’s. (Please note changes were made to the Rylee one after the fact that weren’t made here. So don’t compare them side by side, they are not exact).
Partial Chapter 14 – Colton POV
She owns me right now.
Fucking owns every single part of me and doesn’t have a damn clue. Sitting astride me, fingers atop the little piece of Heaven that I’d die to claim right now, and the sarcastic dare falling from her mouth. My mind wanders to what exactly those fingers would look like nestled between those folds of flesh, and I have to stifle the groan at how fucking hot that would be. And I think that’s exactly what she’s trying to do—tease me with what she won’t give me. With what I can’t claim yet.
She wants to play huh? Oh, I am so fucking game right now. Ready to knock it out of the goddamn park.
“Baby, if you’re trying to get me to stop, then you shouldn’t throw around comments like that.” I shift in the bed and accidentally roll my hips again, feeding into the pleasurable pain as my aching cock rubs against her tempting heat yet again. And this time I know I’ve hit her right where it counts because she throws her head back and the soft sigh that falls from her mouth is a dead giveaway no matter how unaffected she’s trying to play it.
I can’t take my eyes off of her. The sight of her tits, weighted globes of perfection, right in front of my face. I force my eyes to move upwards and meet the challenge in hers. “If you think I fuck like I drive, you should see me drop the hammer and race you to the finish line.”
I see her breath catch and her body stutter in it’s motion momentarily before she quickly recovers and regains her composure. My mind starts to try and figure what I just missed but my thoughts are pulled out from underneath me when she spreads her legs apart further, evidence of her obvious arousal on the damp patch of her panties. My fingers rub together, itching to touch.
“I thought racing wasn’t a team sport,” she says coyly. “You know, more of an every man for himself kind of thing.” Her eyes hold mine as her fingers slip beneath the band of her red, silken panties and still, my eyes darting between the two, waiting for her to move them. Begging her to move them. The visual consuming my thoughts.
I force myself to look away, to work a swallow in my throat that’s suddenly become dry. “Every man, yes,” I finally am able to get out. “It can be very dangerous too, you know?”
“Oh really?” She asks, eyes locked on mine, the moan of pleasure that falls from her lips has my breath laboring as I look down to watch the movement of her fingers beneath the fabric in front of me. Sweet fucking Christ. I can’t handle the unknown, needing to see for myself the show on display, and the fragile fabric of her panties is snapped and dropped in an instant without a second thought.
And Rylee doesn’t even skip a beat.
Oh fucking my. The white French tips of her nails are a mind-dizzying contrast to the darkened pink flesh they dance across. Perfection. Addiction. Absolution. I glance up knowing she’s going to have that taunting smile on her lips and for the second time in as many seconds I’m knocked breathless.
Rylee’s head is thrown back, curls tumbling all over the place, lips parted, tits pushed out and the sexiest moan coming from her lips as she doesn’t just revel in the moment but becomes the fucking moment. Fuck me. The woman who used to tighten the sheet around her months ago in modesty now sits astride me in all of her glory, owning her body and sexuality with such a confidence that I’ve never thought her to be more sexy, more sensual, more everything than right now.
She lifts her head back forward, her hand sliding out from between her legs, moisture glistening off of her fingers for me to see. “Well it looks as if I know how to handle the chute with perfection when it’s slick with moisture.” She smirks that smug smile I want to fuck off her face right now just before she slips her arousal coated fingers into her mouth and sucks on them, eyes taunting me all the while.
Is she trying to kill me right now? Fucking voodoo pussy is back with a vengeance and fuck if I’m not ready to be the first and only victim. The woman has me strung tighter than a hair string trigger—volatile and ready to blow. My balls tighten, my body tenses wanting her so desperately right now but my stubborn streak tells me I have to hold out, take the reins when the time is right. My body screams that time was ten fucking minutes ago while my head loves when Ry gets feisty and defiant. When she makes me work for it like no one else ever has.
“Fuck yeah, you do,” I tell her, my eyes watching as she pulls her fingers from between her very fuckable lips and follows the descent back down south. She adds torment to her tantalization by parting her folds with one hand so that I can more than handily see her other fingers add the friction her sighs say is more than pleasurable.
Fuck me this is brutal to watch and not partake in when all I want is to do is urge her hips closer to my face and have her sweet taste on my tongue again. For that alone, it’s time for me to mess with her a little more and knock her out of the pleasure inducing coma that’s darkening the violet in her eyes.
“You know, sometimes in racing in order to reach the finish line, rookies like you have to tag team to get the result you want.”
Her head snaps up, lips parting, and eyes flashing with shock momentarily until she regains her composure. Perfect. Threw you there didn’t I sweetheart?
“Sorry Ace, but this engine seems to be doing just fine running solo.” She smirks at me, so arrogant that she thinks she dodged the proverbial bullet.
“It can get pretty dirty out there too,” I reply, fingers trailing up her thighs leaving visible goose bumps in their wake, her body angling toward me the higher I go. Fuckin’ A straight. She can play the aloof card all she wants but she can’t deny that her body readily submits to me when I want it to. And fuck, how I want it to is right now.
“Oh, I most definitely can handle dirty,” she taunts as she trails a finger up my chest and rubs some of her moisture across my lips. My tongue darts out, unable to resist the temptation to taste what I’m craving and fuck me if it doesn’t make me want to flip her over, cuff her hands over her head, and fuck the defiance out of her until she’s screaming my name and owning my heart more than she already does.
She grinds her hips down, that smarmy smile still teasing the corners of her mouth, as she rocks back and forth over me and leans forward, her breath a whisper against my ear. “Rubbing’s racing, right?”
And I can’t take it anymore. Hair trigger pulled and control shot. Within a beat, I’ve pushed her back up to sitting, pulled her feet flat on the bed beside my ribs and knees spread wide because if I’m watching the feature presentation, I better have a goddamn front row seat.
“I’m shifting gears because it’s my car to drive sweetheart.” My hands slide up her thighs again until they reach the juncture of her thighs. My thumbs brush over her tight strip of curls before I readjust and tuck my fingers into her. She cries out, the velvet of her walls flexing around me and milking against my fingers as they stroke the nerves within. Her wet fucking heat on my fingers and the memories of her gripping my dick has me pre-cumming like a fucking adolescent school boy but fuck me, I’ll take it. I’ll take anything I can from her because Rylee? She’s fucking everything.
She doesn’t take long to climb because she’s so addled with pent up need—and the fact that it’s only for me is not lost in the frenzied moment. Her fingernails score my shoulders, body tenses, and pussy convulses as the broken cry of my name fills the room around us.
My name moaning from her lips. God-fucking-damn is that not the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I give her a moment to gain her breath, the senses I’ve just finger fucked out of her, and when I think she’s coherent enough, I let her know that even though she’s just come, I’m the one who just won the race.
She lifts her head forward and looks at me from beneath eyelids weighted heavy with desire. “Hmm?” is all she can manage and I fucking love that drowsy just-been-fucked-right look on her face. The one that only I can put there.
“I’m the only one that’s allowed to drive you to the motherfucking checkered flag.”
She just throws her head back and laughs, cheeks flushed, tits jiggling.
Like I said, she’s everything.
The holy motherfucking grail.
I won’t ask if that’s enough, because I know the answer will be NO….but I could have kept this all to myself and not shared…hope you enjoyed it!