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

little gasps and tight nipples, which, in turn, meant if he didn’t put a stop to that train of thought, his “stiff” would return with a zipper-busting and button-popping vengeance.
    Finishing the coffee, he made himself another and then sat at the table. Really, he shouldn’t be so uncharitable. After all, she had cooked dinner the night before. Somehow, he hadn’t been surprised to learn she was a vegetarian like himself. But what really surprised him? Not only did she dislike garlic as much as him, but, and again like himself, Ramona was interested in anything science fiction and fantasy. Well, almost anything. Apart from the first one to see what all the hype was about, he’d never had the urge to pick up a Harry Potter book.
    Another coffee later and Rex went upstairs. The bathroom door was open. While he felt suitably caffeine-fixed for anything, he still steeled himself before going inside. Son of a bitch! Never mind about “Bomb II”—“III”, “IV,” and “V” had been dropped. “Ramona!”
    She waltzed from her bedroom, wearing nothing but a faded black T-shirt, the hem of which barely reached midway on a pair of trim thighs, and the most innocent of expressions. She might lack height, but those legs of hers would make any catwalk model green with envy. He’d rather not be reminded, but one model came to mind—his ex-wife.
    “Yes, Rex? Something wrong?”
    Again, but for an entirely different reason, Rex steeled himself. Now was not the time to think of little gasps and tight nipples, especially when his attention was riveted to her thighs. Thighs that belonged wrapped around his waist, clenching tight as he made himself at home and claimed her slick pussy as his own. He wrenched his gaze away. “Ramona, I cleaned up after you last night because you were good enough to cook. But don’t think it’s going to be a regular occurrence.”
    “You could always move out.”
    “Move out?” he echoed. “Why would I want to move out? This is my house.”
    “Half your house,” Ramona swiftly corrected. “Name your price.”
    “For what?”
    Her snort was loud and impatient. “For your half of the house. Sell it to me. Well, think about it,” she said when he made no reply. She moved past him and stood in the bathroom doorway, one hand on her hip, the other flat on his chest. She gave him a not so gentle nudge backward. “Now if you don’t mind, I haven’t finished.”
    “You haven’t finished?” Rex echoed, not entirely surprised. Her clean and fresh smell, like that of laundered cotton with a splash of lemon should have cleared his head. Not a chance. He glanced down at her hand. He’d never noticed before, but she had the sweetest of hands, her neatly trimmed nails just long enough to rake his back.
    On that thought, his annoyance instantly dissolved. The blood racing to a part of his anatomy south of the border, and all thoughts racing to that same area, Rex covered her hand with his, the warmth of her fingers pressed to his chest, searing his skin through the shirt’s cotton material. He met her gaze and began to drown in those sparkling green depths. She parted her lips—an invitation maybe?—and he bent lower, angling his head. “May I?”
    “May… may you, what?”
    “Kiss you.”
    “Do, and you’ll never become partner.”
    Ramona’s comment was akin to a bucket of ice-cold water thrown in Rex’s face. Apart from the obvious, what had he been thinking? Hadn’t he, just the day before, made the firm decision not to let his cock rule his head? Ramona was off-limits. Repeat after me—off-limits. And if he wanted to become partner, he’d be advised to remember that.
    At the same time of Ramona wrenching her hand free, Rex abruptly turned and stalked into his bedroom. “I have thought about it. I’m not selling. Oh, and clean up after you’ve finished,” he said with a growl, slamming the door shut.
     
    * * * *
     
    Her heart thumping wildly against her rib cage,