Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Heather Sorrells
Word Count :14181
Publication Date :2015-05-25
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-4874-0449-9
Camellia Thomas is at a point of transition in her life. She has begun to question all of her major life choices, including that of becoming a model and leaving the man she loved behind. In a series of dreams, Camellia realizes she has never stopped loving the man she left behind and now wonders if she has made a mistake. When she dreams of a life that could have been, she is inspired to change her whole world. The life-changing journey leads to a second chance at love. Will she blow it again?
I swear I’m going to kick Philippi’s ass one of these days if he doesn’t make up his damn mind about how he wants me to pose. Stupid ass.
Camellia dragged her tired, aching body inside her skyscraper apartment. It had been a long day of modeling at Shaded Heart Studio, and all she wanted to do was take off her clothes and get into bed. Shuffling her feet, she made her way to her chic, beige leather sofa and sat down.
Sinking into the sofa’s plush cushions, she shrugged off her fur wrap and tossed it to the side. She propped her right foot on her glass-top coffee table and unbuckled the tight-fitting black stiletto, took it off, and pitched it across her living room. It made a satisfying clunk as it collided with her cobblestone-framed electric fireplace. The other shoe followed in short order.
She placed one foot in her lap and moaned with relief as she massaged the aches and pains away, then massaged the other. She leaned back and closed her eyes as the tension in her over-worked feet melted away.
“Oh, if I could only get a man to do that, life would be so much better,” she muttered as she stood up. Her heart had grown lonely in the past ten years since her break-up with her high school love, Jerry. No one could measure up to him, and the city had slim pickings, anyway.
Wiggling her toes, she could feel the plush, white carpet on her bare feet. A cool breeze surrounded her, leaving a chill on her arm. She rubbed her smooth hands up and down her arms to rid herself of the cold, but she was no match for it. Slowly, she walked over to her fireplace, bent over, and turned it on. The electric flames flickered as she watched in a sleepy haze.
Warmed by the faux fire, she lifted her thick, brunette hair and untied the spaghetti straps of the black satin gown she had worn home from a shoot with Philippi, a world-renowned photographer. It glided down her taut body and pooled around her feet. With a soft kick, she pushed the dress away from the fireplace.
Standing in front of the heater in her bra and panties, she pictured herself naked and in the arms of a handsome man whose face she could not see. She fantasized about making love on her quilt in front of the fireplace. She longed to feel a man’s touch again—it had been way to long. Her relationships were always short-lived because the men never measured up to Jerry.
Maybe a one night stand would give me the satisfaction I need, and then maybe I can move on. She contemplated the idea, trying to imagine what a man’s hands would feel like, messaging her breast. Oh God, I’ve got to stop this or I will go crazy, she thought as she opened her eyes.
She strolled through the living room to the hallway. Propped against the stucco wall, she felt its rough surface beneath her hand. She leaned forward and slipped off her black, lacey, silk panties, leaving them where she stood. Her smooth hands slid up her tight stomach and over her lacey, black strapless bra and undid the front clasp, releasing her breasts from its snug grip and tossed the bra aimlessly. The garment landed in the hallway, close to where she stood. Liberated from the uncomfortable bra, her smooth, full breasts swayed gently with every step. She walked sleepily down the hall to her dark bedroom, wearing only the lingering scent of her sweet, lavender perfume.
She flipped the light switch for the bright overhead light and headed toward her black mahogany dresser to retrieve a plain, white t-shirt, worn and tattered, nestled in its familiar place in the middle drawer. She pulled on the only thing she had left of her long-ago love, hugging its softness to her skin. It was almost as if he was right there with her, holding her in his strong arms. Memories of the sweet young man she’d left behind all those years ago swarmed over her, like bees to a budding flower.
She slid open the last drawer and pulled out a pair of comfy white cotton panties and pulled them on.
As she climbed into her queen-sized, pillow-top bed, feeling the cool touch of her silk sheets against her legs, she looked out her open bedroom door at the trail of clothes she’d left behind and wondered if her maid would mind the mess. As she turned off the light, she said, “Thank God for Flo,” and drifted off to sleep.