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ChapterOne
I want to use my sucking rose toy tonight, but the weather is so frigid, that I might freeze off body parts.
A cold draft tightens my skin as I step out of the bathroom. Cringing, I hurry through my studio apartment. It's up in the attic, and the heating should have warmed it while I was in the shower. But what should I expect in the middle of winter?
Frost etches the windows, turning into icicles where they meet the pane. I blow out a foggy breath and scowl at a cloud of condensation lingering in the air. It wasn’t that bad outside… Was it?
I pull the lapels of my bathrobe together, the only thing shielding me from the weather. There’s no way I can take it off and freeze.
A gale blows loud enough to rattle the window frame. I clench my teeth. Another gust like this, and the wind will swoop in here and carry me to Oz.
“Mate.” A voice drifts in the air.
Shivers skitter down my spine, and a bolt of terror has my gaze darting around the room.
Moonlight streams through the window, illuminating the watercolor I painted the week before. I'm hoping to sell it in the coffee shop downstairs, where I work. Maybe if I could make some extra cash from my art, I could start going out, meeting people, and not being so lonely.
The wind whistles, sounding like a voice, and I continue toward the sofa bed. “Great. Now, I'm hearing things.”
I pull back the covers and scoot onto the mattress, avoiding the coil that usually digs into my spine. Another perk of being broke.
My phone buzzes. I reach beneath my pillow to find a message from Jessika, one of the other baristas, that says:
Alexis, don’t forget to watch that meditation video!
I click the link she sent me earlier, and it navigates to YouTube. According to her, she used it to attract a rich boyfriend.
Its title says, Call forth your Perfect Soul Mate using Dimensional Waves… Whatever that means.
It probably won’t work, but a girl’s got to have hope.
Thunder rumbles, drowning out the video’s musical introduction.
“Ignore the shitty weather.” I squeeze my eyes shut and dismiss the lighting seeping through my eyelids. “Focus on the soothing sounds.”
I have an early shift tomorrow and can’t afford to oversleep.
“Welcome to the nighttime meditation,” says a soothing voice. “This audio will bring forth the perfect companion for your soul. Take a deep breath, hold it for a count of six, and exhale.”
The recording goes on like this for a few more minutes before I drift into a state of semi-awareness, where I can no longer hear the narrator’s words. Even the thunderstorm sounds miles away, a distant rumble on the edges of my consciousness.
In my deep relaxation, I try to picture my perfect soulmate. He would be tall, of course. I’m five-eleven and love to wear heels, but I tower over most men. And my voluminous, brown curls often add an extra three to six inches to my height.
What else would I want in a soul mate?
He’d have to be tactile—the type of man who wraps his strong arms around my body and cradles me to sleep. I couldn’t stand one who shies away from hugging.
I want a man who is kind, loving, and generous. Who values a woman’s company and what she has to offer and never demands that I pay for half. For once, I want a man to spoil and pamper me and appreciate my art.
Oh, and one who doesn’t listen to alpha male podcasts.
And he has to be strong. Being both tall and curvy, I struggle to find a man willing to pick me up, let alone one who wants me to sit on his lap.
My lips curl into a smile as I continue the list. He’s got to be wicked in bed and live for oral. The type of man who does it because he’s addicted to the taste of my pussy and loves making me cum. And of course, I want a huge cock.
I try to conjure up an image of my soul mate, but can’t picture anyone. Maybe if he fulfilled my list of desires, things like appearances wouldn’t matter.
The thunderstorm drifts away, as does the cold and the wind and the meditation. Warmth fills my heart and spreads across my chest. Whatever this feeling is, I want it to last forever.
