Seeing Red Read Online Free PDF Page A

she’d marveled at the spaciousness. The room was even larger than her bedroom at home, and the second room—the one Toby occupied—wasn’t much smaller. The suite was truly a luxury booking, and everyone would have expected that of her: the rock star’s ex-wife.
    She moved to the bed and sat on the edge. She gripped the bottom hem of her tank top, and her gaze trained on the shiny wood floor.
    His bare feet passed in front of her, and a moment later the glow of a lamp added brightness to the area. He tracked back to the door and shut off the overhead light, leaving the fan going. There was already a chill in the room from the overenthusiastic air conditioning system. The vent pointed straight at the bed, so the fan seemed unnecessary. Wasn’t worth quibbling about, though.
    By the time he made it back to the end of the bed, he’d peeled off his shirt.
    Meg’s hands stilled, and she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d known he was big. She’d seen his calves and forearms, but all that was just a hint of what was beneath his clothes.
    He wasn’t muscled in the way guys who live and breathed the gym were, but there was an athleticism about his chest and upper arms that hinted at either very hard physical labor, or engagement in frequently rigorous play.
    Holy hell, what was she getting herself into?
    He stood in front of her, nearly toe-to-toe, and her hands seemed to be operating on their own volition as they pressed against his firm belly, and edged down to his waistband.
    His fingers did that lacing through the back of her hair again, and he gave it a tiny yank, tipping her face up to meet his.
    “I don’t carry condoms with me,” he whispered. “Hate to toss you in cold water.”
    She closed her eyes and puzzled over his words. “You mean, throw ice water on me?”
    His lips quirked up on one side and he shrugged. “I get it all mixed up. The English language is so…idiomatic.”
    No kidding. She’d studied it, after all.
    “I may have one in my toiletry bag. Let me look.”
    She hadn’t intended to make him sheathe up at all. She’d had an IUD ever since she’d stopped nursing Toby, but there was the issue of STDs. She couldn’t speak for Seth, but having been married to Spike, maybe getting tested at the next available opportunity wouldn’t be a bad idea.
    He pulled his hands free of her hair, and she struggled to put weight on her wobbling legs. Already, his fingers toyed at the fastening of his shorts, and as she strode across the room to the closet, she said a little prayer to whichever god would receive it that there’d be just one rubber in her bag.
    She toggled the light switch and dropped to her knees to push the lid of her suitcase open.
    There had to be one. There was that convention she went to with Sharon last year. In the swag was a condom affixed to a piece of card stock printed with some punny expression about personal safety. She was pretty sure she’d laughed and put it in her makeup bag.
    There was rustling behind her, and she turned to look out the closet door, finding Seth had preemptively dropped his shorts.
    Dear Lord, the man had no shame, nor should he have.
    “Oh my God,” she whispered, her fingers stilling over the case’s zipper. His briefs followed his shorts into the pile on the floor.
    His dick didn’t seem real, at least not compared to what she’d personally encountered in the past. The last cock she’d seen of that size, in a text message sent to her by one of Spike’s band roadies—the little freak—had been very obviously Photoshopped. Seth had something to brag about.
    She hurried her search of the case.
    Ah, there it was. She grabbed the condom and switched the light off in the closet, breath hitching as she returned to the bed end where he sat. She extended the packet toward him and he took it.
    His hands weren’t shaking like hers.
    She didn’t understand this nervous Meg. Meg Scott had never been nervous. Not even when she was