Page 13 of Thunder

Lexi would scold her and say she was closed off, but that wasn’t it. He just wasn’t for her. Her best friend would never understand that. She subscribed to a different school of belief.“If he has a dick and you’re horny enough, any man can be your type for an hour.”In her head it was Lexi, but that voice had been all hers. Three years ago, that was her philosophy too.

Prudes would’ve called her a slut. Christians would’ve prayed for her soul. Her parents would’ve been mortified. But to be honest, if she’d had a penis instead of a vagina, she’d have been celebrated by her friends, high-fived by her coworkers.

Andy never weighed her value against the number of sexual partners she had. That was an antiquated and offensive belief. So, she hadn’t changed for some great moral reason, nor had she lost interest in sex. At first, it had been just healing her body. Then it was healing her mind. After that, it had been a lack of confidence to walk up to a guy and tell him what she wanted.

Now it was just that damned twenty minutes. Lexi was right, she was so obsessed with it. Andy needed to let it go or she would never have a future or find the old her.

After she washed her hands and reached for the door, her phone dinged. Checking her messages, she groaned.

LEXI: After you wash your hands, spritz the wild west with some smell good. Smile and come out to the bar and enjoy the eye candy. I gotta jet, they need me at the club. Blast is going to run me over on his bike. See you later, unless you get lucky, then I’ll want details over noon pancakes. Smooches.

Andy rolled her eyes but was smiling. At least with Blast gone, that saved her the awkward goodnight and goodbye. She wasn’t spritzing anything; she was headed home to curl up with some pizza rolls and check on Fern.

Stepping through the door, her attention on her feet instead of where she was going, she unintentionally shoulder checked someone. She turned to apologize, but he had his back to her and oh, what a back it was.

Shoulder-length dark hair brushing broad shoulders draped in a black denim vest with the Phantoms’ head from outside on it, like all the guys she’d met. Tapered waist dipping into black jeans. Muscular thighs leading to decent-sized calves tucked into scuffed black riding boots.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

He was leaning on a killer bicep against the wall acting as if he hadn’t bumped or heard her. Something about that sparked something inside her. When he failed to even acknowledge her, she shrugged and turned.Time to head home.

Before Andy got two steps away, arms grabbed around her waist, pulling her back into a solid wall of muscle and almost toppling her off her feet, or rather Lexi’s sky-high boots. Wrapped up from behind in a bear hug that smelled like everything manly in the free world. Mostly she noticed the hint of exhaust laced with musk and sage. That was, under the smell of whiskey, beer, and cigars.

It was intoxicating. They say scent is a strong memory trigger and her brain was flashing like a Christmas tree trying to light something, but nothing was sticking. Just rapid flashing.

“You coming back to my room tonight?” It was phrased as a question. Spoken in a voice that was orgasm-inducing, but it was an order. She felt it in her marrow. Before she could even process what was said, he rubbed his nose across the crown of her head and inhaled audibly. “Damn, that scent. Fuck, it’s familiar but I would definitely remember you.”

With that, he crossed his arms over each other around her middle and squeezed tighter. “Fuck, you feel perfect.” Andy was so surprised; she didn’t answer or make a move to remove him from her person.

It would’ve been nothing to break his hold and drop him to the floor, but she didn’t feel threatened. Not to mention, some part of her was thoroughly enjoying the feel of him, whoever he was.

Touch. It had been years since she’d allowed herself to enjoy this kind of touch. Something inside her felt like those flashing lights and arms going crazy at a railroad crossing, warning drivers that a train was barreling down the tracks headed their way. Get out of the way, do not cross.

Instead of heeding those warnings, she brought all Lexi’s words to the front. Speeches about overthinking and not living in the moment anymore. If she was going to find her way back to who she was, who she loved being, she had to cross those tracks.

“Sure. Which way is your room?” The next inhale after the words flew from her lips, locked into her lungs. She’d said it. She basically drove around that barrier and crossed the tracks with the deafening sound of the train and the blinding light.

His response? A grunt. She was lifted slightly higher and they spun as he strode to a door where he shifted her weight to punch in a series of numbers. Once successful, it opened, and he continued down the hall with her legs swinging back and forth in time with his steps.

When they came to the last door on the right, he shifted her weight again and turned the knob. Within seconds they were in a room painted dark gray with dark wood furnishings. Everything was dark gray or black, except the rich burgundy comforter on the bed. And what a big bed it was. Did they make a larger than king because if they did, she was looking at it.

Not surprising, considering the man at her back. She had yet to see his face, but from the feel of him and the glimpse outside the bathroom, he wasn’t a small man. Tall and muscular. She felt a beard; she wondered at its length. Her boots touched the floor, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

She was really doing this.Internal squeal.Did she remember how? The reality of her decision was barreling down on her like that damn train. Instead of freaking out, she took a series of deep breaths. This was perfect. Get back on that horse with a man she had no investment in. A familiarity crept up her spine. Sending tingles and goose bumps along her skin.

Rolling her hips back before she lost her confidence, elicited a groan from him and he ran his teeth along her neck. Her body remembered what to do, even if she didn’t.I can’t believe I did that.

Andy was on the verge of turning in his arms when he released his hold and brushed past her. Standing by the bed, she watched in fascination as he stripped down to his boxer briefs, pulled back the comforter and fell face-first into the bed.

Stunned was an understatement. He didn’t move or motion for her to join him, just snored softly. He must’ve been drunker than she judged him to be in the hall.

Andy didn’t know what to do. Did she tiptoe away after covering him up? That thought dragged her attention to the man lying face down in the giant bed. His toes still hung slightly over the foot of the bed. But holy wow with a side of Jesus help me. The man was built. Not that she doubted it from what she felt, but seeing it was a whole other thing.

Every muscle in his legs, cut and defined. His ass was a work of art. Fat free and fine as hell wrapped in black and gray ribbed cotton.

Her eyes feasted on him as they traveled north. The ink on his back matched the one she’d done on Blast, but slightly different from the one outside on the building. Two steps closer and…yep, Ripley’s work.No doubt in her mind.

After awkwardly staring at a sleeping man for longer than was normal for a non-stalker, Andy knew the right thing to do was leave, but something kept her there.

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