"Wait a minute."June rubbed her eyes and collected herself. She was just about to leave when she realized the mall had become quiet. She looked up to find the workshop door closed and she was alone. She felt a substantial amount of cool air against her skin. When her eyes fell to look at her body, she gasped. She could see a lot more skin—her smooth and blemishless and firm skin—because she was now dressed in a whole lot less. Instead of her sweater, she had a green, fur-lined crop top that squeezed her breasts together to create and highlight a deep crevice of cleavage. Her nipples peaked over the top like twin rising suns. Below her exposed midriff, smooth and hard from a devotion to Pilates, was a sassy fur fringed green mini skit, barely held up by an ornamental wide black belt with a bright silver buckle. Her fashionable boots had been replaced by green high heeled go-go boots with fur at the top. There was something on her head now. She took it off to see what it was. It was a. Then she did some warming up, stretching out her shoulders as well as her legs, admiring the bruise she’d gotten last night, before hitting her stride on her third step. The first of the morning birds sang to her as she jogged through her neighborhood. It was one of her most favorite time of days, this solitary run. The repetitive nature of her stride, the smack of the sole of her shoes striking the concrete was very soothing. It let her think, it gave her time to breathe, to think through things that might be bothering her. And right now something was definitely bothering her. His name was Aidan Hunter. In some ways, even the thought of his name made her feet slam down even harder and the easy count of her breathing grow rough. Thoughts of his golden eyes, their heat on her legs yesterday when she’d changed into her fatigues, well that was only half of it. The way his hand had felt against her skin was something she’d been fighting to forget all night. Aidan was a playboy. He didn’t.
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