by Mya Larose
One More Time
Zara’s Second Chance
Curvy Zara Miller always knew something or someone was missing in her life. She needed a man who could appreciate her figure and who she could rely on to be there for her. Slowly she fell under Peter Adames's spell and soon her body burnt with a need she thought she didn’t have.
She knew only he could satisfy her deepest desire. However, she hid her love for him until she could trust him. After suffering through a bad relationship where her ex picked on her "weight" issue. She didn’t know he was already determined to make her his own.
His desire to have Zara’s curvy body beneath his reached the breaking point. The uncertainty in her eyes tugged at Peter's heart. He had to convince Zara that he was the right man for her. When he had her in his bed, he planned to keep her there until the past evil struck.
Could Peter convince Zara his feeling towards her was true? Or would the tragic event kill their last chance for love?
Genre: Contemporary
Length: 33,586 words
ZARA’S SECOND CHANCE
One More Time
Mya Larose
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
ZARA’S SECOND CHANCE
Copyright © 2014 by Mya Larose
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-849-2
First E-book Publication: June 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
ZARA’S SECOND CHANCE
One More Time
MYA LAROSE
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
With a discreet sigh, Zara held the receiver between her shoulder and ear as she continued to listen to her mother complaining about her sister’s new job. Looking at her wristwatch, she realized that she had been on the damn phone for at least ten minutes.
“Mum. What on earth are you talking about?” Zara sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation.
The last person she wanted to talk to this early in the morning was her mother. The woman drove her completely nuts. Oh God, please give me patience, she thought and looked up at ceiling.
She held the receiver tight against her ear. “You knew about her job. Yes! She told you herself. Yes, she’s a fashion stylist. Mum…” She winced and moaned softly. “I was also there with her when she told you about it. No, we aren’t trying to drive you insane.”
Zara let her mum ramble about her sister and her new line of work. Their mother was not a religious person but she was an old-fashion type of woman. According to her, it wasn’t appropriate for a young lady to work in the fashion industry because it would corrupt her. The place of a woman was by her husband’s side and blah blah blah. She mimed her mum talking. Their mother had preached the same values since they could walk and talk.
“Mum…Mum…Would you listen to me for a second, please?” She rubbed the side of her temple. She was about to have a headache. She sighed. “No, I didn’t raise my voice at you! Okay…I am sorry for hurting your feelings…Listen, Mum, I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get ready. All right…Okay…I’ll call you as soon as I get back home to talk more about your concerns…Okay…Love you too…Bye!” Zara quickly hung up the receiver before her mother could begin to ask her more questions.
Her mother was the type of woman who hovered over and controlled her children’s lives. Their mother always interfered in everything they did since she and her sister Yasemin were little girls. She told them how to play correctly with a toy, whom to go out with when they hit puberty, which subject to study at school, and how to study.
Zara remembered her mother as a very young, anxious mother when they were young who slowly turned into a very controlling mother once they hit puberty. She loved her mother to bits but she had kept her away for the sake of her own sanity.
The last straw that drew them apart was when she decided which job was perfect for them. Sadly, their time spent with her while they were younger wasn’t an enjoyable one.
As she put down the receiver, she let out a heavy sigh. Today was definitely one of those days. She wanted to stay in bed and ignore the outside world, particularly her mother. No such luck for Zara Miller. She was self-employed and an online small-business owner, and that didn’t allow her such luxury. Oh, she loved her job, where she could work at her own pace, but it consumed most of her time. In addition, most of her merchandise was handmade and customized for
her customers’ preferences. It might not be a great job for others, but knitting was Zara’s passion. It paid her rent and put food on her table.
What else could she ask for? She made her way back to bed. She giggled and rearranged her duvet over herself. Well, maybe a bit of love, some passion, and lots of sex. Oh yes! Lots of it, actually. She wanted a real man between her legs. A man who would adore her…love her…and of course fuck her like there wasn’t a tomorrow. She wanted a man who knew what he wanted. An alpha male who appreciated curvy woman and knew how to take charge in bed and outside the bedroom.
She turned on her side in the bed and tucked her hands under her cheek. It wasn’t like she was a virgin. However, there was always something missing, even when she was with her ex. According to him, her problem was that she lacked passion and she had to lose some weight! He was the “Wham bam thank you, ma’am” type. He even had the audacity of calling her frigid. He had been such an ignorant and insensitive man!
One day, he decided that she wasn’t good enough for him and left her. Well, good riddance to him! She didn’t need him anyway. She emitted a heavy sigh. Who was she kidding though? The useless SOB did a great job on her. He had drained her emotionally and he had completely destroyed what was left of the confidence and self-esteem she had. It had been one year today since he left her for a leaner and more beautiful woman. And younger.
Well! At least she had someone more reliable, dependable, and trusty now, her battery-operated dildo friend, aka. BOD. He never failed to give her an orgasm. Oh yeah, baby! She snickered slightly. He knew how to please her. That reminded her. She had to buy more batteries today.
With a loud sigh, she rolled on her back and snuggled deeper into the warmth of her duvet.
She searched for BOD from her bedside and started to lick it gently, imagining it was a real cock. She took it in, trying to get it as wet as possible. Deciding the dildo was ready, she moved toward her smooth and plump pussy, making sure it raked across her nipple.
As she closed her eyes, she imagined a dark Adonis. He would have his head between her thighs, suckling on her clit. A moan escaped from her lips as she rubbed it softly against her warm folds. It felt so good. She imagined him murmuring to her how sweet she tasted and that he could not wait to have her. She couldn’t take anymore teasing and placed the tip of BOD at her entrance. With a deep gasp she abruptly pushed it completely in.
While she started to fuck herself with the dildo, she would have him pounding within her like a madman who couldn’t have enough of her pussy. She could feel her sweet honey dripping all the way into her ass.
She kept pushing the dildo faster and faster as well as harder. She felt her clit throbbing and her entire body was aching to be relieved. Barely able to breath, she felt the tension building. Just a few more thrusts and she would be there. Thrashing her head from side to side, she pinched very hard on one of her nipples thinking it was him who took a bite. Instantly, her whole body tensed as she screamed out her pleasure and came hard.
With a satisfied sigh, she gently removed BOD and put it on the nightstand. She lazily rubbed her clit with her fingers covered in her own juice and then licked her fingers at her own naughty leisure. She dreamed of her lover slurping her cum from her dripping pussy. She clenched her thighs and moaned some more.
She lay still for a little longer to let the last waves of orgasm fade away. Well! It was only a dream but a wonderful one. With a dreamy sigh, she closed her eyes to try and go back to sleep. Alas, her mind was not having any of it. Well, she wasn’t a lie-in person anyway.
Zara got up from her bed and went directly to the bathroom located on the left-hand side of her bed. She did her usual routine. She grabbed her cozy, long fleece robe from behind the bathroom door and threw it over her naked body.
Barefooted she left her bedroom and went down the corridor toward the kitchen. She knew that her mother didn’t approve of her job. She thought it was a pastime. She mused as she prepared her usual morning caffeine absorption. She grabbed her favorite mug, a beautiful brown-colored vintage mug with the design of the Dresden, Germany Christmas Market. It was a Christmas gift from her friend Lara.
She wished she had enough guts like her sister to walk away from their mother while she was criticizing her. Her mother would discover soon that she took her job seriously.
With a grin, she pressed her hot coffee mug between her hands and against her ample chest. If there was one thing in life she would forever be proud of, it was her baby, her creation, her business. Zara always took great pleasure in taking digital photographs of her knitting as well as explaining how prospective customers could get original items made in any color, size, or type of yarn.
Well, there was a slight problem. How to operate a website? What did she know about HTML, HTTP, and other protocols such as File Transfer Protocol and the Gopher Protocol, etc? She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly.
So today was an important day for Zara. This morning she had an appointment with Mr. William, the web designer. She had to set up a website for her business that would highlight the knitted items she made because her business was growing steadily. She was so nervous about it. Everything sounded like gibberish to her.
She wanted something simple, like a front page with the picture list of her detailed items along with a link that would redirect her customer to her auction seller account. Why couldn’t she download the photographs, descriptions, then the price and keep everything simple? No, actually, scratch that. She had a better solution. Why couldn’t they call her up and tell her what they wanted? She really wanted to go back to her bed and bury her head under her pillows.
She sipped her hot coffee. “Yeah, right, in your dreams,” she murmured.
It was so simple to sell on the auction site. Because her income was higher than normal, the site wanted to commercialize her business for an extra fee. She mentioned her problem to Lara over a coffee one afternoon. Not knowing what to do herself, she made a phone call the same day to her friend Mr. William, and voila.
Still holding her mug, Zara made her way down the corridor toward her bedroom. It was time to get ready. She put down her mug on her beautiful dresser, stained with a dark-cherry finish and nickel knobs.
She took off her robe, threw it on the bed, and grabbed her body cream from the top of her dresser. She squeezed a big dollop of cream in her palm as she started to apply it all over her body and along her legs vigorously. Her mother and her ex would tell her she was fat and needed to lose a great deal of weight. On the other hand, her sister would swear that she had curves to die for.
She opened the top drawer of her dressing table and chose a matching bra and panties. After her business, lingerie was also another of her addictions. She loved it, different colors and shapes. Especially she loved the textures of the lingerie against her skin. It was like she had naughty fingers caressing her skin, her nipples, and her pussy. Her mother always nagged her about her sexy collection of lingerie.
She could still hear her now. “Who is going to see or appreciate them anyway?” Or “You have to lose some weight to wear them.” She would always criticize her about everything and anything.
Oh well! What could she say or do? That was her mother. Besides, the only way to deal with her was to agree diplomatically.
However, she really didn’t care what others thought about her as long as it made her happy. Her relationship with her mother wasn’t a great one and would never be.
With a sad sigh, she decided to wear a beautiful underwire with non-padded cups in a plum color, with spot jacquard and embroidered mesh top cups. After putting on her underwear, she moved toward her wardrobe situated on the right-hand side of her bed. She stood in front of her six-foot-high mirrored wardrobe door. She liked to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t have the body of a model, and she was self-conscious about her curves.
She had tried every possible diet that existed. Alas, she failed all of them miserably. Her problem was that she ju
st loved her food and that she would never be a size ten. She always regarded herself as an overweight and big-breasted middle-aged woman. Well! Her next-door neighbor didn’t think so. She recalled him with a grin.
She shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts. She didn’t have time to think about him now. Every time she thought or even mentioned her neighbor, her pussy came to life and began to weep her honey. Her clitoral hood would retract, her clitoris hardened and expanded, her pussy juice dripped like honey from her pussy lips and her nipples became hard like diamonds. She would grind her pussy on her pillow or she would use her friend BOD. This masquerade had lasted for a week now. She had to do something, but what? She shook her head pathetically.
However, she didn’t have time to pant over a man she didn’t know from Adam.
It was time to get ready and get this meeting with the web designer over with, she thought.
She grabbed another pair of clean panties. She could soon go back to doing what she really liked, which was knitting and dreaming about her sexy neighbor. She actually blushed and giggled softly.
“Well, what to wear?” she muttered.
She stepped aside to open the mirror door. She eyed the contents of her wardrobe. She started to push aside the hangers, one by one. She couldn’t make her mind up. She didn’t have any sense of style. She was such a hopeless woman in this day and age.
Her sister, Yasemin, was the fashion queen in the family. Give her a potato bag and she would fiddle, cut, stitch, and come back with an outfit fit for a fashion magazine. She always supported her sister in her talent and now while she made her name working for a top fashion stylist. No thanks to their mother, that was for sure.