“That’s was Grandma said.”
Luna stifled a tiny laugh, but when she looked back at Brody, her eyes were filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Your generosity is just really surprising to me. I don’t even know you, but you’re basically saving my ass.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Let’s get your car started, and you can follow me home.”
Luna nodded, wiping away some tears, and Brody tried not to think too hard about what she’d look like naked on his bed with him kissing those tears away.
Chapter Three
So the lumberjack was going to save her.
Was that it?
He was strong and handsome and Luna had a feeling he knew it. Nobody looked that good and didn’t realize how attractive they were. He was hot as hell, and she was…
Well, it had been awhile for her. It had been a long time since she’d felt such a heat burning inside of her. It had practically been forever.
She had been humiliated when she’d talked with the hotel clerk. They’d offered to let her stay during the quarantine, but it was in or out, they’d told her. The virus that was sweeping the world was the kind of thing that wasn’t going to go away overnight, but most of the state was effectively shutting down. No one knew very much except that everyone needed to stay at home. If she was going to stay at the hotel, she was going to stay there.
That meant she’d have to pay for the full two weeks, and that was money she didn’t have.
She should have been scared to go with the big lumberjack. Warning bells were going off inside her head, but her vagina didn’t seem to get the memo. Fucking hormones. That was her problem. Hormones. If she had better control of them, she wouldn’t be so anxious right now and she certainly wouldn’t be getting ready to go home with a total stranger.
But she wasn’t naïve. She knew that this couldn’t possibly really be for free. He was going to want something from her, just as everyone did.
Sex.
Was he going to want sex?
If he did, it would basically make her a prostitute: exchanging her body for a place to stay. She didn’t really care, though, and that thought worried her more than it should have.
“Are you okay?” He asked carefully. He was in her car now. He’d gotten it started and he’d been speaking to her, but she wasn’t listening. She’d been too busy thinking about his cock and wondering what it looked like.
“Yes,” she squeaked out.
He cocked his head, trying to figure out what she was talking about, but finally, he shrugged.
“Okay, just follow me, then.”
“Should I give you my phone number?” She asked.
“What?”
“You know, in case we get separated and I need to call you for directions?”
He laughed, shaking his head.
“Sweetheart, I’ll give you my phone number in an instant, but I’m not about to lose you. Let’s get home and then you can have my number for as long as you want it.”
He walked over and got into his SUV, and her heart was pounding.
He’d called her sweetheart.
Her feminist studies had taught her that this kind of language was totally demeaning and wrong, but when he said it, it just did something to her. Something she couldn’t quite relinquish.
Sweetheart.