Thunder (Big D Escort Service Book 1)

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Thunder (Big D Escort Service Book 1) Page 1

by Summers, Willow




  Thunder

  Big D!ck Escort Service

  Willow Summers

  Copyright 2017 by Willow Summers

  All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this book are figments of the author’s crazy imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

  Contact info:

  Website: www.WillowSummers.com

  Email: [email protected]

  * * *

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  Contents

  Thunder

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Pre-order Blaze

  Also by Willow Summers

  About the Author

  Thunder

  Welcome to Big D!ck Escort Service.

  If you need a date, we’ve got you.

  If you need wining and dining, we’ve got you.

  If you need a night you’ll never forget— buckle-up buttercup, because that’s our specialty.

  We’ll give you what you need, as hard as you need it.

  CODE NAME: THUNDER

  All the girls call me Thunder.

  As in, they need to feel the Thunder between their thighs.

  I’m a legend. My waiting list is a mile long. The ladies crave me, and they’ll pay for the pleasure.

  But though I hate to disappoint—everyone knows I leave my clients satisfied—it’s getting old. Money, sex, and rock ’n roll can get stale. Who knew?

  I might just finish up, and pull out. I’ll take one more gig, rock her world, and see my way out.

  I’ll show one last lucky lady why they call me Thunder.

  * * *

  CLIENT: MADISON

  That rotten, no good—

  My ex-boyfriend of too many years just left me three weeks before the most important wedding of my life.

  I wanted to make a statement at that wedding. I’ve changed. I’m no longer the loser who got dumped by the popular boy in high school. Now I’m a successful business woman with clear skin.

  But how can I possibly make that sort of statement as a loner?

  I can’t, that’s how.

  So when my friend suggests hiring a date from the Big D!ck Escort Service, it was hard to laugh it off. And as the days ticked by, it was harder and harder to deny that I needed saving.

  No sex, though. I’m not that kinda girl. I’ll just hire the guy for a date, and nothing else.

  Just one date without any funny-business. That’s do-able, right?

  One

  Madison clutched the worn tabletop in desperation, hoping she didn’t get a splinter from the ancient wood. “No. Please. Don’t do this, Frank. You can’t leave me now. Not right before the wedding.”

  “Madison, sweetie, we both know it’s over.” He shook his head apologetically. None of the hair plastered to his scalp moved. Not even in the flow of air from the fan. His butt squeaked as he shifted on the torn plastic seat of the diner booth. “We’ve grown apart. Have been for a long time. We, as a couple, don’t make sense anymore.”

  “Frank, please,” she begged, barely seeing the meal set in front of her by the suddenly solemn waiter. When he was gone, she leaned forward so the other occupants in the half-filled—and long since ready to be demolished—diner wouldn’t hear her pleas for pity. “Not now, Frank.”

  “Nothing will change, Madison. Let’s be honest here.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t love you anymore.”

  She waved the sentiment away. How could he talk about love at a time like this? “That’s been a problem forever. But you have to hang on for a few more weeks, Frank, please. Just three more weeks, and then I’ll dump myself. Seriously. No hard feelings. I’ll walk right out of your life, no hassle.”

  Frank’s expression crumpled into one of confusion. Granted, he’d probably expected she would be a puddle of tears at the moment, but he was right. They’d been growing apart. They both knew it. She’d dealt with it because of the wedding. She’d held on, ignored the loneliness, and even his extracurricular activities, all so she could breeze through the wedding and put that milestone behind her. After that, she had always intended to put a stop to the insanity.

  That he would end it three weeks before the single most important event she could remember was unacceptable. Why not cut things off a few months ago, leaving her with enough time to find someone else? Or just wait a little longer? He knew the situation with the wedding. Doing this right now was a slap in the face. It wasn’t something a friend would do. Or even a normal person with an ounce of moral fiber. A person didn’t leave a desperate girl high and dry to suit their own needs. Everyone knew that.

  He put his hand on the table between them, what he thought was a subtle means of quieting her. She’d always hated when he did that. It made her ragey. “I’m sorry, dumpling,” he said. Another thing that made her ragey—being called a lumpy, misshapen type of food. “Maybe you can get your brother to go with you to the wedding. But really, I don’t think it would be right, do you?”

  “My brother in your place? No. That wouldn’t be right, no.” Madison leaned back in her chair, thinking. “Okay, check this out. How about we break up, like you want, but not announce it until after the wedding? That’s a happy medium, right? You do your thing, as you would, but with the exception of following through like you promised eight months ago when this came up.” She wiped her forehead and focused on simmering down for a moment. Getting hysterical was a sure way to scare any man off, and this one more than most. He’d seen her lose her temper in the past. It wasn’t pretty when she really got going. “Sorry about that. Anyway, we wait just three tiny weeks to announce our breakup, we hang out for that one evening, and then we’re done.”

  “I really don’t think—”

  “I mean, it’s free food. I’ll buy all your drinks. It’s even close to town. It’ll be fun.” She was back to pleading. “It’s just one day of your life, Frank. Just one day. Then you can move on. We can both move on. Or not, depending on whether we—I—want to bother. Which, as it stands, I really don’t. Men are so much effort.”

  His brow rumpled and his mouth dropped open.

  No, this was definitely not going how he’d thought it would.

  Which made her wonder: had he timed it this way to get a bigger impact out of the whole thing? Something told her he had. He was purposely leaving her high and dry to make sure she felt the full weight of the situation.

  Well. She felt it, all right. In the scorned woman sense. Nothing good ever came out of creating a scorned woman. Nothing at all. Unless disaster and chaos were the goals. In which case, mission accomplished.

  She threw up her hands. No use kicking a dead horse. Though she did actually want to kick Frank. “Fine. You win. You’ve done what you came to do. Go on, then. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I really think this is best,” Frank repeated, his attempt at an apologetic expression ruined by a look of lingering confusion.

/>   She picked up her fork and knife, but hesitated when he didn’t get up to leave. She quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he thought a last supper was in order.

  “There’s one more thing,” he said in a placating voice. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Since you fought so hard to keep your old apartment, for just such a situation, I gather, it’s probably best if I keep ours. It’s only right.”

  The dirty little—

  Madison worked at simmering down again. Of course he’d bring it around to that. He always did. They’d fought about it constantly. He’d never accepted that it had nothing to do with him. Or them as a couple.

  She’d had no choice but to keep the apartment. It wasn’t like she’d ever used it. And given that she’d always paid more than half of their expenses as a couple—plus the rent for the old apartment on top of that—he had no right to complain. That he would turn around and throw that in her face now was…distasteful. Disrespectful. A real dick thing to do.

  She schooled her facial expression. There was no point in going into it. Clearly she’d made the right choice in keeping it. At least she had somewhere to go.

  “Don’t worry, though.” He patted the table as though patting her hand. “I’ll help you move out.”

  She noticed he didn’t mention giving back the deposit she had paid in its entirety. Or all the effort she alone had expended to get that apartment in the first place. He certainly didn’t mention the money he still owed her for all the debts she’d helped him pay off.

  Anger sizzled just below the surface. This man was tap-dancing on her last nerve.

  “And how did you plan to afford the apartment?” she asked in a light voice, cutting into her overdone, dried-out steak. Normally she would never, ever order a New York strip steak from a greasy hole-in-the-wall diner, expecting exactly the sort of dish she’d been served. But Frank had magnanimously offered to pay this time, something he never did. She’d seen the writing on the wall, and had therefore ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. She’d eat it all, too. At least while he was watching. Then take his cheapo pasta dish for good measure. She just had to chase him out first.

  That shouldn’t be too hard.

  “Will the new girlfriend pay more than her fair share to keep you afloat, like I did?” Madison raised her eyebrows in question as she popped the piece of steak into her mouth.

  The guy sitting at the table next to them jerked. His sideways lean spoke volumes. He’d just found a live soap opera to pass the time.

  “Or did you get a promotion you never mentioned?” Madison chewed, a lesson in jaw strength and patience.

  Frank’s smile flash-froze. Alarm bled through his gaze. Madison didn’t know if it was because of the promotion, which had been a total guess—he better not have gotten one and failed to mention it!—or the new girlfriend, who wore a startling shade of pink lipstick and a truly pungent variety of floral perfume. Frank was slow to do laundry. The writing hadn’t just been on the wall. It had been on the shirt. And button fly.

  “She’s not… I don’t have… I mean…” He trailed off.

  So this was about the girlfriend. Thank God. Madison had been about to hang him upside down by his ankles to shake the extra money out of his pockets.

  “You didn’t think I knew?” Madison smiled. “How could I not? For months my monogamous relationship has been with my vibrator. Of course I knew. Suddenly I was having orgasms.”

  The guy next to them sprayed food all over his table in an unfortunate spit take. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and coughed to hide his shuddering laughter.

  “Anyway. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need help moving out. I’ll just grab the few things I need. You can keep the rest. Since I have my own place, and all.” She scowled at him before swallowing the lump of steak that refused to be chomped any further.

  “This really is for the best,” Frank said with a red face.

  Madison slowed her attack on the steak when he picked up his fork.

  She quirked her eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

  “What?”

  “Are you planning to eat that?” She pointed at his dish with her knife. Her choice of cutlery should’ve been a hint.

  “Well…I did say I was paying.”

  “You came in here to break up with me at the worst possible time, after cheating on me for months and shoving me out of the shared apartment you wouldn’t have without me, and you’re under the impression I want to have a meal with you?” She rested her forearms on the table and leaned forward. The guy next to them shook his head while wiping food off his table. “Hard no. You need to leave.”

  “But…my food…”

  “Hard no.”

  He frowned at her before looking around for the waitress. Being that Madison had seen people head to the cash register on the counter in the front to pay their bills, he wasn’t looking for the check. He planned to take his food to go.

  “Nope. Off you go.” She motioned him away. Still with the knife. “Get out, or I’ll make a scene.”

  A disbelieving smile crept up his narrow face. He wrinkled his sizable nose. “Madison, honey, come on now. Be rational.”

  The man next to them stilled, probably thinking someone named Frank was about to get stabbed with a dull knife.

  Madison raised her voice. “How dare you! You broke up with me, but you’re still trying to control my eating?” She let her face fall in misery. “Well, not any more! I’m going to eat for once. I’m not going to let you tell me I’m fat. Not this time. No, you just head off to your new lover. I’ll be fine.”

  The proverbial needle scratched as it slipped off the record. A quarter of the patrons, all of them women, turned in their seats. Angry gazes swung Frank’s way.

  In contrast, guys shook their heads and hunched over, knowing how dumb it was to break up with a girl in a public place—and how much stupider it was to also tell said girl she was fat. They probably expected all the women to join together, grab pitchforks, and start lopping off their prized parts. Soon there would be a riot of men running from the diner.

  “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay…” Frank edged out of his seat, obviously torn between his untouched plate and the violent stares from the other women.

  “I’m devastated,” she hollered. “Devastated! I suppose you’re going to try to get custody of Shamus, even though I was the one who raised that dog. And fed him. And walked him…” She huffed, an action mirrored by half the audience. “Just go.” She shook her head. “Just go.”

  Frank’s confusion was back. Probably because they didn’t have a dog. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” he said.

  “Sir.” She motioned at the waiter, then pointed at Frank. “He’ll need the check, please. He’s headed to the cash register.”

  Madison turned back in her seat and took a shuddering breath. All for effect, of course. She couldn’t let the others know that she was hamming it up. They’d turn on her. She’d be chased out right behind Frank.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying,” muttered the busybody at the next table. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and scooped his check off his table. “But you can do better.” He tipped his hat and slid out of his chair.

  That was a little bit of a backhanded compliment. She’d just gotten dumped by a guy who apparently wasn’t good enough for her.

  People were odd.

  She sawed into another bite of steak, her mind returning to her predicament. Panic dripped down her middle.

  Three weeks.

  She only had three weeks to find a date to her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. Three weeks to find someone who would impress the guy who had stolen her virginity, crashed her car, and broken her heart.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  An hour, a takeaway box of Frank’s untouched dinner, and a blank slate of ideas later, Madison let herself into her little apartment on the bad side of town. The smell of clean cotton air freshener greeted her. The keys clinked as they f
ell into the porcelain bowl by the door. She threw the lock and sighed. Home. Real home, not the space she’d shared with Frank. The one place in the world that was solely hers. Plenty of space for her clothes, a spot for her toothbrush that no one messed with, and a remote that was left on the coffee table unless it was needed. There was none of this holding the remote at all times nonsense in her apartment. Because honestly, how could a person relax if they were constantly concerned about changing the channel?

  They couldn’t. Which was one of the reasons she’d finally admitted to herself that Frank was not her speed. Too keyed up.

  “Hey.”

  “Ah!” Madison kicked out, swayed, and fell back against the front door. Her heart punched her ribcage. “What the crap…”

  She clutched her chest as Janie sauntered out from the hallway, holding an apple.

  Solely her home, except for the constant stowaway with her own key.

  “I hate you,” Madison said as she pushed away from the door.

  “Good thing you took that self-defense class.” Janie bit into the apple and talked through a full mouth. “It came in handy just there.”

  “I didn’t want to drive you to the hospital, that’s all.” Madison crossed the teeny living room/dining room and stalled as she entered the kitchen. She held up Frank’s dinner. “Are you hungry?”

  “No thanks.” Janie followed Madison and leaned against the small island, which acted as a division between the kitchen and living room/dining room. “So? Was it what you were expecting?”

 

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