Don't Tempt Me...
"LEATHER SHOUTS, lace whispers," Samantha Sawyer
said to her new client, who'd flung off a red silk cloak to reveal her outfit for the portrait Samantha was about to snap of her.
The black leather bustier, red fishnets and glitter-flecked stilettos did not flatter the softly feminine woman before her. In that god-awful platinum flip, Misty looked like a plus-size dominatrix from a 1950s sci-fi movie.
"From what you told me earlier, I believe you want to lure Tony to bed, not chain him to the headboard and whip him into submission," Samantha said gently.
"But Tony loves leather. Leather clothes, leather furniture, leather everything." Misty swirled diamond-heavy fingers through the air.
"Tony loves you, Misty. And your body screams for lace."
"It screams for air, that's for sure. I can't breathe." Misty unhooked the top two grommets and exhaled in deep relief.
It saddened Samantha that instead of showing off her zaftig curves, Misty had crammed them into torturous fashions. Too many of Samantha's clients did the same — wore too-small clothes, stripped their hair of natural color and turned th ... read full excerpt from: Don't Tempt Me... ebook
