Thunder — Willow Summers

CODE NAME: THUNDER

All the girls call me Thunder.

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

It was a silly nickname at the start of this crazy venture. Only a bunch of fools would create a male escort business.

My buddies and I are a bunch of fools.

And while the whole thing started as one big joke, the money rolling in was no laughing matter.

Except now I'm done. I have enough saved up to chase my real dream.

But as I break the news to the guys, a gig comes in that no one expects. She is unlike anyone that has ever contacted us, and the best thing is--she's all about a hands-off situation.

Without meaning to, I take it. A quick job with no touching. No sweat. I can do that in my sleep. But after this, I'm out.

* * *

CLIENT: MADISON 

I cannot believe I am doing this. A male escort service? Really?

But what choice do I have? My rotten, no good 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 businesswoman 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, my laughter melted away into desperation. And as the days ticked by, it was harder and harder to deny that I needed saving. 

All I need is a guy on my arm so I don't look like a spinster. That's it. After this, I'm done with guys. They can all suck it.