Page 88 of Cougar Chronicles

StacyStarr:If he really wanted me, he’d come to me.

HollyGolightly:Not necessarily. He may be afraid of you rejecting him.

Michael Moretti afraid of rejection? Was she kidding?

StacyStarr:I don’t think that’s an issue. I guess I haven’t given you his full name, but trust me, if you saw him, you’d know he would have no fear of rejection.

HollyGolightly:Stacy, good looking people have just as many insecurities as the rest of us, lol.

StacyStarr:He could have any woman he wanted.

HollyGolightly:Don’t forget what you know about him now. He lost a fiancée he adored along with an unborn child. That can devastate a person. You said yourself that he adored her. It was a long time ago, and he might be ready to open his heart again to the right woman. But it’s been a long time, and you’ve already rejected him once.

StacyStarr:I suppose…

HollyGolightly:It’s true. You rejected him.

StacyStarr:But only after he rejected me. I mean, I guess he didn’t technically reject me.

HollyGolightly:No, he didn’t. And when you found out why he’d gone after you in the first place, he tried to make it up to you.

StacyStarr:You think so?

HollyGolightly:Based on what you’ve told me, yes, I think so.

StacyStarr:Maybe…

HollyGolightly:Have I convinced you to contact him yet?

StacyStarr:I think so. Yes.

HollyGolightly:Good! I hope it works out for you. Promise you’ll get back online and let us know, okay?

StacyStarr:I will. I definitely will! Thank you, Holly!

Stacy logged off, elation filling her, and surfed straight to Michael’s official website. This time she didn’t let the mouse hover over the “Contact Michael” link. She clicked, and an email form popped up.

“Dear Michael,” she wrote, “I hope this finds you well. I’ve been thinking about you and the time we shared at the conference. I’d like to talk to you if you’re still willing. I think we both left a lot of things unsaid. You can reach me at this email address. Take care, Stacy.”

Perhaps she’d hear from him, perhaps she wouldn’t, but one thing was for certain—after hitting “send” she felt better than she had in days. At least she’d done something, been proactive.

Right now, she couldn’t get Michael’s hard body and thick cock out of her head. He’d given her her first orgasm. Her body longed to fly again.

She smiled to herself. After her divorce from David, she’d swallowed her inhibitions for about five minutes and strode into a sex shop on the other side of town. There she’d purchased a vibrator and some lube, hoping she’d be able to produce an orgasm. Though she’d managed to pay for the items and leave the store without fainting or vomiting, once she’d returned home, she hadn’t had had the nerve to try them.

She had the nerve now. This was something even Starr Shannon had not done.

Stacy’s nipples tightened at the thought. She shed her clothes quickly, opened the bottom drawer of her dresser where she’d hidden her toys underneath her long underwear, and pulled them out. The vibrator, still encased in plastic, shone a hot pink.

Hot pink!

Why did manufacturers choose such strange and vibrant colors? Right now, though, the toy no longer looked like the menace it had seemed when she first plunked it into the bottom of the drawer over a year ago. No, now it looked like a plaything, a bauble, a colorful treasure that could produce pleasure for her until Michael Moretti came back to her bed.

And if he didn’t? Her heart slacked a little. She’d miss him, yes. But there were other fish in the sea. She’d find someone else worthy with whom to share her newfound sexual prowess.

Stacy Oppenheimer would not be alone forever, and neither would she enter another passionless relationship. Twenty years she had wasted with David! But time was still on her side. Forty-five was a long way from dead.

She discarded the plastic packaging, inserted the batteries, and fingered the silicone toy. Soft and pliable, it was warm to her touch. Just the thought of her impending orgasm made her drip.

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