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She had way too much to lose.
So instead of throwing caution to the wind and picking up where they left off as he tempted her to do, she smiled at Thunder and said. “My break is over. Better get back inside.”
If she hadn’t felt so self-conscious and out of her element, she’d have laughed at the way his jaw hit the ground.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Usually, words rolled off his tongue like warm butter. Now, his tone had taken on a frosty note. He dropped his arms and scowled.
“Uh, no. Monty gave me fifteen minutes. Actually, I’m a few minutes late. I don’t want to upset him.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at the ground. “Uh, thanks. That was fun.”
Could she be any more awkward?
“Fun?” He laughed as he shook his head, but the harsh sound grated on her instead of making her join in. “Fucking fun would have been getting my dick sucked. Who the fuck knew you’d be nothing but a cock tease? Have fun working with fucking Monty.”
Mak winced as he threw the door open and disappeared into the building. Of course, he didn’t hold it for her, and it slammed shut so hard, she jumped.
For a moment, she stood there staring at the closed door with a frown on her face. What the hell had just happened to turn him from charming and seductive to a total jerk? For the life of her, she had no idea why her words had made him so angry.
Though his actions made her feel like garbage, maybe it was for the best. Clearly, she wasn’t cut out to play in his world. The fantasy was nice, but just that—a little time spent playing make-believe.
From now on, she’d stick to books to get her fantasy fix.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT MIGHT BE time to give a physician a call. Thunder was obviously sick and in serious need of medical attention. For the past two days, he’d been a complete fucking mess. His appetite had gone to shit, he’d tossed and turned each night, and for some unknown reason, every time he shut his eyes, Makenna’s sweet face appeared, as did the feel of her soft, hungry mouth. And her slender fingers gathering up the fabric of his shirt. And, Christ, did he mention the throaty little whimper she’d made when he’d finally given in and pressed his erection into her soft belly? The one he heard echoing through his head all night?
Shit, that tiny sound nearly made him come on the spot and leave an embarrassing wet spot on her shirt.
She’d been liquid heat in his arms, nearly burning him to ash with her honeyed and seemingly innocent kisses. God, the woman had the good girl act down, and damn if it didn’t crank his gears.
Then she’d gone and pulled the fucking plug after the mysterious phone call he was pretty sure came from a man. A man with whom she appeared to be in a close personal relationship, if the way she dropped her voice and wandered off to take the call was any indication.
The part that baffled him in this little tango they’d danced was how she’d all but told him to fuck off after ending the call.
What the hell?
She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. He’d spent enough time around horny women who had their sights set on his dick to know what the hell he was talking about. And Makenna had eyes for his cock. But she’d turned him down cold.
Twice in one night.
What kind of game was she playing? Clearly, she caught on to how the good girl-next-door act did it for him but wasn’t leaving him with blue balls on more than one occasion taking it too far?
Shit, he wanted a sweetheart, not a prude virgin.
Still, he could admit he’d been a bit of an ass, okay a total fucker in those last few moments. And the guilt of being less than his usual charming self had to be responsible for his Makenna perseverations over the rest of the weekend. His conscience, which seldom weighed in on his life choices, had been screaming at him for more than forty-eight hours.
Enough was enough.
“Hey, Thunder, the usual?” Shell asked as she sidled up to his table at the diner Tuesday morning.
“Yeah, babe, thanks.”
“All right, a three-egg omelet with ham and cheddar, extra potatoes, and buttered white toast coming right up. I’ll grab you a coffee refill, too.”
“Thanks, hon. Copper’s a lucky fucking man.”
She grinned at that, a pretty pink blush flushing her cheeks. Rubbing the swell of her pregnant belly, she tilted her head and gave him an assessing once-over. “You know, I’m the one who’s pregnant, and I still can’t eat like you. Where the hell do you put it all?”
With a wink and his legendary smile, he flexed his right bicep. “Takes a lotta fuel to keep these babies running.”
