A Door to Midnight
Page 9
No idea. But you do. Don’t you? And while we’re pondering the surreal and ludicrous, where exactly did your stranger go? Into the waves semi-naked and you haven’t seen him since. He hasn’t popped up once, not even to take a breath. How is that possible? Where did he go?
And why do you so desperately want to know?
She didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. It pissed her off. Enough that she forgot her reprobate mother had managed to raise a daughter who was polite and respectful to elders. She narrowed her eyes at the possible octogenarian scowling at her. Hannibal growled again. “Are you always this pushy?”
“Only with little hussies who snog complete strangers in the street.”
Sera’s eyebrows shot up her forehead, going from angry to stunned in a single jump. “Excuse me?”
The little old lady muttered something that sounded a lot like “stupid cunt”, shook her head and then offered a smile so saccharin, Sera’s mouth fell open. “I must be off, dearie. It was lovely talking to you.”
She turned and shuffled away and, for the first time, Sera noticed she wore running shoes with her matronly dress. Albeit pink running shoes, to match her lipstick and glasses, but running shoes all the same. Pink running shoes and thick black socks.
Sera blinked. “That is the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Really? Freakier than a gorgeous, sexy guy who scares the shit out of a cop with just a flare of his nostrils? Or freakier than a man who runs into the surf after kissing you with more passion than you’ve ever been kissed in your life?
She swung her head and stared at the beach, doing her best to ignore the ridiculous way her sex throbbed at the memory of that unbelievable kiss. The beach was packed with confused people. They stood at the water’s edge, staring at the waves as if searching for the shark. The alarm was no longer wailing and the cop who’d come to her rescue earlier was now trudging back up the beach, heading in her direction.
“Whoops, Hannibal, time to go.” She pivoted on her heel, tugging the still-growling dog with her, and began trotting along the footpath.
Yes, it was time to go. Time to go home, have a shower and put this whole situation behind her.
Now if only her damn pussy would stop carrying on, reminding her with insistent force exactly what she was trying to forget—one brilliant kiss from a complete stranger.
Stupid bloody pussy.