Page 1 of Hot for the Tour Guide
Chapter 1
Lulu
Ilook into the computer and see all my writing buddies staring back at me. I'm not the leader of this group by any means, but since I'm very reserved they usually listen when I've got something to say. Today, however, I feel like I'm lying to them. It's been like that lately.
"Does everyone have their word count goal for the retreat?" I ask.
"Yes!"
There are a ton of smiling faces in my monitor but I see one that isn't.
"Sam, what's going on?"
"Are we just going to write away all our time there? I want to have some fun."
"You mean, you want to hook up." Shelley says.
The videoconference room groans in unison.
"We're romance authors, people. This is what we live for." Sam says in a little whiny voice.
"I don't know, Sam. I really need to put some words down. That's my priority. Then relaxing. I mean, the beach, the sun and the lovely water. It's perfect for getting inspired."
A part of me really wants to join Sam in her adventures. I mean, I'm dying as an author because of my complete lack of sex life. It's all bleeding into my writing and I'm getting worried. My sales are down and the reviews say the spark isn't there in the sexy scenes anymore.
People used to love and praise those scenes! It's tearing me up inside.
"I think the resort has some nightclubs we could go to at night." Sam says.
"I'm already packed. I can't fit another thing in there, Sam."
Several of the ladies nod their heads at my words.
"Just think about it, okay?" She says.
I don't say anything and we continue on for thirty more minutes talking shop and overall having a good time. When we log off I try and do some writing, but I'm at the point where the couple are intimate together and I can't seem to find the right words for this couple.
A break is definitely in order, so I close my laptop and go to the kitchen to make myself some tea. Once I have a steaming cup on my hands I walk over to my living room and sit down on my favorite reading chair. I sip carefully the hot liquid and am glad I chose this blend of peppermint.
My mind is racing with thoughts, but the tea is helping quite a bit. What would it be like to meet the man of my dreams? Howwould he treat me? What would the sex be like? How do I want to be treated by him? What turns me on?
I have to admit I'm a pretty vanilla kind of girl. My books are spicy, but mostly because I love some good dirty talk. My heroes have filthy mouths and they are not afraid to use them. My heroines spend most of their time blushing and submitting. No, not in THAT way. That would get me kicked into erotica.
Reining back my thoughts, I focus on the hot guys that appear on my social media. That silver fox with a deep voice that loves to growl early in the morning. That guy chopping wood that has a beard I'd like to run my fingers through. That other viking that tells me I'm beautiful and wishes me a great day.
Would I let any of those men into my life? Maybe I'd rather a businessman or a mountain man. I spend at least an hour thinking of the possibilities out there, but nothing sparks an interest in me. Is it me? Is there something fundamentally wrong with me?
After a while I slip into a funk and make myself another cup of tea. Chamomile with ginger and honey this time and I start a bath. Once the water is right the way I want it I get undressed and sink into the warm water and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
I run my hands over my body. I have big, luscious curves, that make me a comfortable living as a plus size model. Some would say my curves are voluptuous, some would say I'm simply fat. I've never had trouble attracting men. What I'm going through feels deeper than that, though.
As my hand explores through my body, I feel a slight tingle, a shimmer of interest. I close my eyes and tell my body to relax. My mind immediately starts showing me strong, handsome men. Some from social media, some from movies, some from my past.
No one face makes an impact and I start getting discouraged once more. I reach down between my legs and touch myself very lightly. The desire is there, but there's something big blocking me. I continue to tease myself, but it's a losing battle.
I wait until the water is lukewarm and my fingers are like prunes to pull on the plug to let the water out. Then I shower quickly and put on a fluffy terrycloth robe. What I need right now is comfort, because if I can't write my books, my side hustle as a romance author is going to end soon.
It takes me a long while to get to sleep. I hate nights like these, but when I wake up, I remember the dream I had of a man in an island. I scrunch my nose and grumble. I know what that means. I'm going to have to go clubbing with Sam during our writing retreat at the Hot Beach Resort.
