Welcome to the Romance Writers Weekly Blog Hop.
The Romance Writers Weekly crew is a group of romance writers who hang out on our Facebook Page, and do a weekly blog hop to answer questions about our writing and face writing challenges.
If you’re joining me from S. C. Mitchell’s blog, or starting your hop here with me, welcome aboard.
I supplied today’s topic – Flash Fiction Challenge: Planes, trains, and automobiles (or even boats) give us a quick scene set on/in a moving vehicle.
I picked this topic because I was remembering back to my entrance into the Mile High Club: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/2013/03/23/jet-lag-and-the-mile-high-club/
It was an interesting time in my life. I never did get around to writing the whole story, and I’m probably never going to. I’ll leave that to your imagination. But that experience inspired today’s challenge to my RWW teammates.
So, here’s something new, and (mostly) fictional:
The Friendly Skies
By Marc Stevens
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Matthews.” The stewardess’ broad, genuine smile warmed Clive’s heart. Her short skirt and long sexy legs caused heat in a somewhat lower region.
Clive was more used to flying commercial, crushed between two strangers in the center seat with someone’s baby screaming in the seat behind. Okay, not always that bad, but God, he’d been there. He’d rather drive, take his time, and arrive with his mind intact.
“We need you today.” Tom Wendt wasn’t just offering him a part in his new movie. He was giving him the roll of a lifetime. Slade Steele, in the movie version of Marc Stevens’ Suburban Spies.
Clive couldn’t say no to next summer’s hottest romantic blockbuster.
Then Tom surprised Clive by sending a private plane. “I know how you hate to fly.” A comfortable Leer jet, pilot, co-pilot, and Jennifer.
“Nice.” He was talking about the plane. Then again, maybe he wasn’t.
Jennifer motioned him in. “Take a seat, Mr. Matthews. We’ll be taking off shortly.”
He buckled into the cushy single seat. I could get used to this.
She took the seat across from him, giving him a chance to study her.
Piercing blue eyes, and plump red lips were framed by a fall of golden curls. A low-cut uniform that offered a generous hint of cleavage.
“I loved you in Island Heat.” Her eyes widened as her tongue dragged across her lower lip.
“Don’t tell me you actually watched that.” Nobody admitted to watching Island Heat. While Clive thought he’d turned in an acceptable performance, the film was so poorly edited, it was almost unwatchable. Still, there was that love scene that went viral on Youtube, but with the lovely Miss Paige playing opposite, that wasn’t really acting.
Jennifer unbuckled her seat belt as the plane leveled off. “I thought you were great.”
God. Clive Matthews. Everyone knew he was the next big thing in Hollywood, even though Island Heat bombed at the box office something fierce. That hadn’t been his fault, and his performance shined through the shitty production. Especially that hot sex scene.
Jennifer took a deep breath, trying to center herself. This was no time to go all fan-girl over him. “Can I offer you coffee . . . something stronger?” Me?
“Wine, if you’ll join me.”
What girl in her right mind would turn down that invitation?
She fought to keep the excitement from her tone. “White or red?”
His gaze captured hers. Dark, bedroom eyes that held erotic promise.
“Surprise me.” His tone dripped with orgasmic invitation.
A sensual wave cascaded through her.
Oh, she planned to surprise him.
Sorry. I gotta stop there. I’ll let you fill in what happens next.
Then hop a train over to A. S. Fenichel’s bog as the Romance Writers Weekly blog hop continues: http://asfenichel.com/blog/