Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Online Free PDF

wallowing in a sense of victory that she’d forgotten to listen out for the shower turning off.
    The mug held in one hand, Ramona slowly turned to face him. Her breath stuck in her throat before coming out with a whoosh. And for one moment, she felt certain her heart had stopped beating before it gathered speed and ran like a racehorse.
    Oh, yeah, they definitely had chemistry. Red-hot chemistry.
    His short, light-brown hair darkened by dampness made the fingers of her free hand twitch. His pink shirt—honestly, on any other man it would have looked just plain girlish, not Rex, he carried it off with a ton of testosterone to spare—was fully open, showing an incredible expanse of smooth, muscular chest, each rib defined and made for touching with fingers and with lips and tongue.
    And not to stake a claim on him, but Ramona firmly decided it should be her fingers, her lips, and her tongue doing the touching.
    His charcoal-gray pants were zipped, but the button undone and the leather belt unbuckled. The extremely hard and sizeable ridge of his cock pressing against the material also made for her fingers, lips, and tongue. He was barefoot. Okay, so Ramona thought of herself to be the kind of woman to try anything, but, and even though Rex had perfect feet, the jury was still out on male toe sucking.
    The sight of an aroused man primed for some sizzling action on the kitchen table was a turn-on all in itself, but what was really endearing was that there was a small piece of tissue stuck on his left cheek, just beside his ear. The smug, ultra-sexy Rex Latimer had cut himself shaving! She then caught herself. Endearing? Damn it! She was turning slushy.
    The warm, spicy aroma of his cologne invaded her already spinning senses, and banging her untouched coffee on the kitchen counter, Ramona tugged the belt on her bathrobe tighter and proclaimed, “I’m going for a shower!”
     
    * * * *
     
    “But you had a bath last night…”
    Rex trailed off as Ramona stalked from the kitchen. Actually, it was more of a shuffle, her ridiculously oversized fluffy cow slippers making walking impossible, unless she kicked them off and threw them at him first. And, judging by her “I’m-so-not-a-morning-person” mood, a faceful of fur was possible.
    Her sour mood almost matched his own. His dreams the night before had been filled with Ramona and dewy, hunger-driven, tongue-tangling kisses. Consequently, his shower had been a cold one. Not that it had worked. The subsequent hand job had also been just as ineffective. He’d still walked into the kitchen with a stiff.
    That second stiff, however, had waned the moment Ramona had said she was going for a shower. If he’d known she was going to say that, he could have forgone the torture of his own shower altogether. Honestly, the night before, when he’d almost broken his neck, he thought he’d entered a bomb site, not a bathroom.
    How many bottles did a woman use when taking a long, hot soak? Two at the most, he’d decided—bubble bath and soap. Oh, no, not Ramona. Every one of her two dozen bottles of lotions and potions had been opened and used, and, he suspected, smeared over the tiles. She’d shaved, the evidence of which had been left in the bath. A heap of soggy towels, a heavy dusting of talcum powder, and a gallon of water on the tiled floor completed the bomb site.
    Shaking his head, Rex picked up the mug Ramona had banged on the counter and took a sip. Ah, just the way he liked it—black, no sugar. He inhaled and drank a satisfying mouthful. Well, it did seem a pity to waste it, and her half-eaten cereal, too. Not that he normally ate breakfast. He just felt the need for a little payback. No doubt, upon his return to the bathroom, “Bomb II” would be waiting for him.
    This time, Rex glared up at the ceiling while he buttoned his shirt and fastened and belted his pants. He hoped Ramona’s shower was every bit as icy as his. He instantly took that back. Icy water meant