Expecting Thunder's Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather
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them a complementary relish platter.
Carrie scooted in her chair, then shot the stripper pole a wary look. Thunder smiled, enjoying the naughty connotation it provoked.
“No one uses it,” he said. “It’s just part of the decor.”
She reached for a celery stick, dipping it into the spicy dressing. “Then why is this place perfect for what you had in mind?”
“It got you thinking about taking off your clothes, didn’t it?”
“So it did.” She saluted him with the celery, then bit into it. “You certainly know how to make a girl react.”
“Want to give me a teaser?”
“No way,” she said, even though she leaned forward a little, offering him a quick peek down her top.
His zipper went tight. “That’s a good start.”
She sat upright, shooting him an I’m-going-to-win-this-round smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” He took a swig of his .50 Caliber, knowing he would be sleeping alone tonight.
Carrie sipped a cherry cola. She’d passed on the beverage that was guaranteed to knock her on her ass.
“What’s in that?” she asked, after he’d downed half the contents.
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