Thunder - Willow Summers Page 0,40

Not for another fifteen minutes.

“Anyway,” she said, running out of things to say. Ways to stall.

He stared down at her, his jacket tucked in a loop under his arm, his eyes lost to the night. But she knew how they’d look. Always causal. Always confident.

“Hug or shake?” she asked diplomatically.

He pulled his hands free and spread his arms, leaning toward her. “Hug.”

Normal friendly protocol was a one-armed situation, she knew. Throw an arm over the shoulder, and follow it up with a good ol’ pat on the back.

The overly friendly hug was one high arm and one low, ending in a bit of a squeeze, which might or might not entail hitting her chin on the other person’s shoulder.

Both of those hugs would’ve been acceptable in this situation.

Instead, she went low with both arms, threading them around his solid waist and leaning her body against his. Her nipples, already contracted from the cold, rubbed against his hard chest, sending sparks through her body. His mouth-watering smell curled around her. The memory of his taste, sweet and wild, drifted through her senses.

When his arms encircled her, big and strong, squeezing her close, she closed her eyes and went with it, happy he was still acting. She needed it with this goodbye. She wanted to hold the memory close.

After an amount of hug time that was way too long for their pseudo-friendship, long past the awkward stage and technically into the how do I get this chick off me without getting violent stage, she pulled her arms away and backed toward her door. Her mouth opened, threatening to dump her thoughts out into the world—will you kiss me?—before she wrestled it shut. How desperate was it to ask a sex worker, who hadn’t been paid for the sex part, to kiss her?

Very. It was very desperate. And it would be embarrassing when he let her down gently.

“Okay,” she said with a deep breath, taking another step away. She was in her doorway now.

“Okay,” he said, not moving. Not chasing after her.

“Right, then.” She gave him a wave, because this was now definitely awkward, and backed all the way into her house. “I’m in.”

“I see that.”

“You can go.”

“Close and lock the door.”

I’d rather sneak a video of you walking away, because you are that hot, and your body is that banging.

She was in creeper territory.

“You go,” she said.

“Fuck off.”

A smile forced its way onto her face, mirroring his. She laughed. “You win.”

As she closed the door, she thought she heard him mumble, “Not tonight,” but when she hesitated and peeked out again, he was already on the stairs.

The door closed with a solid thunk. Her head hit the wood with another solid thunk. She turned the lock but didn’t move away. Couldn’t. She wanted to rip the door open and run after him.

A little more time. Just a little more time.

Banging her head repeatedly would probably sound weird from the other side of the door. Then again, who was listening?

Nobody. Because he was probably in his car by now, ready to go home.

A sudden memory flashed through her mind.

The shoes!

She’d forgotten her God-awful shoes in the back seat. She’d be giving, or throwing, those horrible things away, but he didn’t know that. As far as he was concerned, he had a very expensive pair of her shoes, and her sprinting through the parking lot like a dog chasing a fire truck was totally justified.

Then she’d beg for a kiss. Just one to remember him by.

Miles past diplomacy and reason, she yanked off her shoes, fought to get the deadbolt unlocked, and ran out the door.

Why did she always forget her damn jacket?

Didn’t matter. She ran, the cement quickly numbing her feet, and the cold coating her skin. A bush scraped her as she passed, but it didn’t bother her. Neither did that same couple again, ambling the other direction with a DVD in hand, probably wondering if she’d lost her mind.

She rounded the corner into the parking area and slammed off a solid wall of muscle.

She didn’t stand a chance.

Madison bounced back and rolled, ass over end, onto the cement.

“Maddie!” Colton was there in an instant, her shoes dangling from his hand, lifting her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

“I’m freezing my ass off,” she chattered, wrapping her arms around his neck. She had intended to ask for that kiss, but instead she dove into it, bumping off his lips before settling. His arms squeezed around