This week I'm sharing a snippet from Ages of Love.. I want to tempt you with a taste of romance as seen by the eyes of one of my three heroines...heroines who prove that there is no age-restriction on finding love.
Her latest assignment had to be here someplace! Chastity Holmes rifled through the papers on her large mahogany desk. This wasn’t her mess, but why wasn’t she more organized? Somehow, her best intentions got buried under mounds of stuff despite her trying to change. No wonder she’d been given the nickname, “Chase.” She’d spent her life in pursuit of everything.
Her shoulders ached with unaccustomed tenseness. She shrugged her left one, moving it in a circle to work out the kinks. Perhaps her new job caused stress, but she quickly shook her head and decided the most apparent reason had to be her recent celibacy. Obviously, not having sex had taken a toll.
Ending a relationship with her boyfriend, Eric, resulted in her accepting a position with Norwell Genetic Industries in Maryland—miles from California and her widowed mother. Eric had been a diversion, and she and her mother had drawn closer with him out of the picture. Still, a girl had to grow up, and moving and building a future away from home was often part of the journey to adulthood.
Although she’d shared two years of her life with Eric, their life goals didn’t jive. The sex was fantastic, he had a successful career with an accounting firm, and wanted her to marry him, stay home and raise a family. At twenty-three, the thought of having kids boggled her mind.
Faith woke with lips feeling bruised from passionate kisses, her breath coming in quick gasps after a voracious bout of sex.
Until last night, her dream lover had only touched and kissed her. She’d never gotten a look at his manhood before, and was awed by the size of it. If anyone considered a penis a weapon, the man was heavily armed.
She pushed herself into a sitting position and rested against the headboard until she was composed. If she smoked, this would be the perfect time for a cigarette. The dream had been the most fantastic so far…and baffling.
Her nameless beau has actually made love to her. Now she knew what she’d been missing. Her nipples remained pebbled beneath her nightshirt, and from something other than cold air for a change. Warm and moist, her inner core still contracted from the thickness of him, and her body quivered with delight. She pinched herself to make sure she was awake. Was this the afterglow she’d heard about?
Still, the overwhelming question haunted her. Who was he and why did he come to her? Each time she came close to discovering his name, she awoke. Was there a reason? She enjoyed the familiarity of him…the way he comforted her, but she had to figure out this dilemma. She’d seen a lounge performance featuring a hypnotist ages ago. Maybe that was her answer.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Time to get ready for work. She rose from bed and headed for the bathroom.
While the water ran, she stripped off her nightgown and underpants. Catching a glimpse of her reflection, she grimaced at the rolls and flab. Who would ever want to run hand over all those layers? “Hell, even I don’t wanna.” Living alone led to extended conversations with no one.
Faith stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed her chilled skin, and she covered herself with a generous lather. Her determination to diet grew when she lifted the fold of her abdomen and washed beneath it. Of course, this was the moment every single day she vowed to lose weight, but today she really meant it.
Hope traversed the waiting room, avoiding the crossed and puffy feet blocking her path. Was she the only person there not pregnant? Clearly, she was the oldest. Why didn’t OB/GYN doctors maintain separate waiting areas? Feeling like the lone spotted pup in a litter of black ones, she took her seat.
Within a short time, more women had signed in, and lined the wall. Rather than surrender her seat, Hope stretched across the chair’s arm to fill her cup. The water soothed her dry throat but did little to quell the queasy feeling in her stomach. Despite being all too familiar with the process, the thought of going through it set her nerves on edge. She glanced at the reception door, took the last sip of water, and fought the urge to leave. After all, shouldn’t she surrender her seat to an expectant mother? She offered, but sadly no one accepted.
The trash receptacle sat about six feet away. Not eager to become the object of unwanted stares again, she wadded the pleated paper into a ball and risked a rim shot at the can. Luckily, the cup teetered on the wastebasket’s edge and then fell inside. Another woman watched from the other side of the room. Hope, her cheeks warm, shrugged her shoulders and flashed a grin before she hid her face behind a magazine. She absentmindedly thumbed through the pages, but her gaze wandered to the swollen belly of the young lady seated next to her.
A pang of sadness stabbed at Hope’s heart. The girl probably had a husband…and a home that would soon house a complete family. Thoughts of Alan, her beloved husband, taken three years ago in an auto accident, blurred Hope’s vision. Although she’d prayed for children for years, they’d never been able to conceive. Evidently, God had ignored her pleas.
At forty-nine and a widow, the parent ship sailed long ago. The only baby in her life was Chloe, her Maltese puppy. Hope blew an upward stream to air to dry her misting eyes and then surveyed the remaining crowd. More pregnant bellies only made her sadder.
You can find this tri-story novel on Amazon.
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