Free Chasing Thunder by Ginger Voight

lending the room a comfortable, domestic feel.
    “Bathroom’s in there,” M.J. told her, referring to the white-tiled room adjacent to the bedroom. She pulled some clothes from the chest, including a large T-shirt and a pair of sweats. They would swallow Baby whole, but it was a hell of a lot better than the scrap of a dress she was wearing. She handed them to her guest. “Here. This will hold you over until we can get you some clothes that fit.”
    Baby’s hands trembled when she took the clothes into her hands. “Thanks,” she muttered. With every gift she felt more indebted to the strange woman in front of her. Finally she just steeled her spine and said, “Look. I don’t know what you want from me. But no matter how I’m dressed, I’m no prostitute. If that’s what you want, maybe it’s just best I go.” She thrust the clothes back at M.J., who did her level best to bite back a smile.
    “Well, I can’t deny that you’re really cute in a lost-puppy-on-the-doorstep kind of way. But rest assured. You’re not my type.” She pushed the clothes back toward Baby. “It’s a gift. No strings attached.”
    “But why?” Baby found herself asking.
    M.J. simply shrugged. “I heard you scratching. I let you in.”
    With that, she turned on her heel and left Baby in peace.
     

3. FEEL LIKE MAKIN’ LOVE
    S nake had just taken off his shirt when she knocked on the door. He wore a smile as he opened it. “You knock now? How polite. Guess those etiquette classes are paying off.”
    M.J. rolled her eyes as she walked past him into the hunter-green bedroom, which felt more like a sanctuary than anyplace she’d ever been. She leaned against his dresser and faced him. “She thinks I’m a lesbian.”
    He chuckled as he approached her and took her into his arms. “She doesn’t know you like I do,” he murmured as he captured her lips for another scorching kiss.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss the man she had loved for more than half her life. Aside from her grandfather, Cooper “Snake” Scoggins had been the only other man she had ever loved, period. Walking into his arms was like coming home.
    For M.J. Bennett, this was both exhilarating and terrifying.
    He lifted her up and sat her on the dresser, fitting himself neatly between her legs and clutching her closer, his hands cupping her shapely ass. It was like wrapping his arms around molten lava. She was hot and dangerous and doomed to consume him. But he lived to love her, though she was as hard to catch as a stray cat. She would come meowing at his door and he’d let her in. He’d fall into her arms and into their bed, offering his whole heart to her once again. Then she would disappear for months on end, and he’d never know if she was alive or dead.
    At least not until she’d get an itch to scratch and turn up again, just like a bad habit. She couldn’t stay away and he couldn’t bear to send her away, even though he knew she’d never let them be together.
    It would have killed a lesser man by now. Yet these stolen moments were the elixir for his soul. She tasted like aged whiskey in his mouth, and he was her hopeless addict. He had dated other women, of course, but none matched her intensity. He was the moth to her flame and they both knew it. That was what made her submitting to him even hotter. With her in his arms, he was a king.
    He ripped her shirt from her body and they held each other, bare chest to bare chest. She made quick work of removing her bra, and he gasped, staring down at her. “You get more beautiful every time I see you,” he murmured against her neck as his hand dropped to cup her breast.
    “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased, trailing a finger along his sculpted chest, down the trail of dark hair leading toward his jeans.
    “Only the pretty ones,” he quipped. He easily lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. They fell together, with him positioned