The Firefly Effect Read Online Free PDF Page A

to make sure that pompous prick never has the opportunity to see me naked again. Resisting the urge to scrub myself raw under a scalding hot shower, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and my thickest, bulkiest sweatshirt. Then I march back out to the living room to interrogate him.
    He's not there.
    Believe it or not, I find him in the kitchen making himself a sandwich. Thankfully he's pulled his jeans back on but his chest is still sans shirt. It's hard not to stare. Clearly he knows how good-looking he is and doesn't mind putting it all on exhibition.
    “Oh, don't mind me, just make yourself at home,” I tell him sarcastically.
    He grins as he slathers spicy mustard across two slices of bread. “I usually do when it’s my home. You hungry?”
    My God, he's infuriating! “No!”
    “Really? Hot sex always makes me hungry.”
    “Super. Good to know. Information I totally needed. Thanks so much for sharing.”
    “Just sayin'.” Now he's stacking roast beef and lettuce on the bread. “Sure you don't want one? A little fuel for round two...” He cuts his eyes sideways at me and they twinkle devilishly.
    Round two? Does he seriously think I'd ever let him touch me again, knowing who he is? Shaking my head incredulously, I glare at him. “Are you freaking insane?”
    “Me?” He snorts a crude laugh before slapping the sandwich together. “You just admitted you had no idea who I was. Do you normally get it on with random strangers? Is this some kinda fetish with you or something?”
    I struggle to maintain a cool composure, but inside I'm seething. “What I do or don't do is none of your business. Now if you're not going to tell me why you came here, I'd appreciate it if you'd take your ass on down the road.”
    “Wasn't just me, sugar.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “I wasn't the only one who came here.” With a lazy wink, he inhales half the sandwich in one bite and turns to wander back into the living room.
    For a split second I wonder if he's brought someone with him, then I realize he's just being crude. Frustrated, I follow on his heels. “Let me rephrase the question. Did you have a specific reason for com– ah, for being here or did you make a special trip up from hell just to stalk me?”
    With his mouth full, he informs me, “Not from hell. Tennessee.”
    “I don't really care where you came from – I'd just like to know how soon you're going back there!”
    “Depends.”
    “On what?”
    “Elliott.”
    By now I'm starting to wonder how much prison time I would get for castrating him. Why is he being so difficult? And who the bloody hell is Elliott?
    Between clenched teeth, I very patiently ask, “Would you care to elaborate?”
    Swallowing, he wipes his hands carelessly across his jeans. “Hurricane Elliott.”
    I shake my head, not comprehending.
    “Don't you pay attention to the news? There's a hurricane out in the Gulf of Mexico. Should be making landfall within a couple of days.”
    “What – here? ” I had no idea the storm churning around out there had strengthened. Well, to be honest, I'd kind of forgotten all about it. Tropical disturbances are nothing new for this time of year.
    He gives me a look of disbelief. “It’s forecast to head in this general vicinity, yeah. How could you not know that? Where've you been?”
    I won't dignify that with a response. He's just trying to make me feel stupid. “So what are you, a storm chaser or something?”
    “I came down to make sure the place was secure. In case we do take a direct hit.” Flopping down on the sofa, he reclines and props his bare feet on the arm as if he intends to hang around for a while. “It's a category one right now, but expected to strengthen to at least a three before making landfall.”
    Category three? Okay, I'll admit that's a little worrisome, but right now I have scarier things to contend with. Like dealing with the devil in my midst. “How long will that take?”
    “For it to strengthen?”
    “No, for you to...uh,