Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (15 page)

“
Rex, I want you inside me. I want this, your cock, inside me.
”

Ramona
’
s words echoed Rex
’
s sentiments exactly.

He took her to the floor, rolling on top of her and reaching for his jeans in the same motion. He removed his wallet but then remembered he
’
d already used the condom he kept in there.
He
looked down at her. Her expression was on the verge of freezing his balls off, reminding him of what happened the day before in the treatment room.

But today,
that very minute,
was different. There were no painful flashbacks, no sound of Stacey
’
s poison taunting him. The only thing on his mind was his want and his need for the woman beneath him. Ramona. She
’
d said she trusted him when he
’
d tied her up. He
’
d be a fool not to trust her. He tossed the wallet away.

Rex lifted Ramona
’
s legs. Then, tightening his grip on her hips, he drove himself deep inside her hot, wet pussy, his raw groan not exactly on the same par in terms of noise level as hers, but still loaded with want. Her fingernails dug deep into his back, making him wince as he moved in and out, alternating between short, sharp thrusts and long, deep strokes.

“
Does that hurt?
” Ramona asked as she scraped her nails down his spine.

“
You know it does. But don
’
t fuckin
’
stop!
”

She happily obliged, clawing his back with her nails and beating the balls of her feet against his ass. The sex kitten had turned into an extremely vocal sex tigress. She howled with passionate conviction as his thrusting took her to another climax that quite simply left her trembling in its wake. He followed right behind her, his own release bordering on a painful, but totally mind-blowing, ball-breaking release.

After a few minutes, spent and senses gathered, Rex withdrew and lay beside Ramona, removing the reins from around her wrists so they could cuddle. For a second she resisted, but then she smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

“
You smell of hay and horse sh
—”

“
Don
’
t spoil a romantic moment,
”
he said, interrupting her.

“
I don
’
t do romance.
”

“
What do you do then?
”

“
Sex. The kind of sex like we
’
ve just had. You-Tarzan-me-Jane-jungle-jump-sex.
”

His cock twitched at the thought of having another session of
“
You-Tarzan-me-Jane-jungle-jump-sex.
”
Incredible. Never in his adult life had he been up for round two so soon. Or should that be round three? He corrected, remembering the knee-trembler up against the tree.
“
There
’
s just one problem with that,
”
he said, his mouth quirking at the corners,
“
we
’
re not in the jungle.
”

“
So? I
’
m not called Jane and you ain
’
t got a loincloth, but I
’
m not gonna let that bother me.
” Rex’s cell phone rang.
She sighed.
“
That might, though.
”

Laughing, Rex snagged his jeans and removed the phone from the pocket. He flipped it open.
“
If that
’
s Watson, then I
’
m gonna personally stick a very large needle up his ass…
”
His words died in his throat. The number flashing on the LCD wasn
’
t Bud Watson
’
s. It was Stacey
’
s. He swore hotly under his breath, added an equally hot epithet, and then answered the call, knowing if he didn
’
t his ex-wife would continue to ring until he did.
“
What do you want, Stacey?
” he demanded, his tone now clipped and harsh.

He listened for a few moments and then flinched when Ramona removed something from his hair. She showed him several spikes of hay. The yellow straws reminded him of where he was, what he’d just done, and who he’d done it with. It was time to end this conversation.

“
The day I return to you, Stacey, will be the day when hell freezes over.
”

Rex pressed the
“
off
”
button, snapped the phone shut, and tossed it over his shoulder. Then, crushing his mouth to Ramona
’
s, he kissed her with such intensity that the icy shroud that had enveloped his body when Stacey told him she wanted to give their marriage another go, melted.

He rolled Ramona onto her back and moved his hand to between her legs. Her pussy was hot and incredibly wet. Wet from her cum. Wet from his cum. An intense never-to-be-dampened inferno unfurled within his guts, fanning upward and downward, scoring direct hits with his cock and his heart at the same time. He softened his brutal kiss and whispered her name against her lips.

“
Yes, Rex?
”

“
I
’
ve got a loincloth back at the house.
”

Balls tight, his cock throbbing from his orgasm, Rex released his hold on Ramona’s hips, backed away from her well-rounded ass, and collapsed facedown on the bed beside her, drained, sweaty, yet very, very happy. Three hours and a further three episodes of
“
You-Tarzan-me-Jane-jungle-jump-sex
” had done that for him.

She rolled away from him, but summoning an ounce of energy, he shot out a hand, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back to his side. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bathroom.”

“For?”

“For a pee, if that’s all right?”

“Desperate?”

“No, but—”

“Good,” Rex interrupted. “We can have a cuddle.” He moved onto his back and tucked Ramona in close, his left hand resting behind his head, his right doodling circles on her hip. The fingers of her right hand traced his ribs while her right thigh slid up over his. “Mmm, that’s nice, darlin’.” He laughed when her fingers and leg stilled. “Why don’t you do romance?”

“Who’s Stacey?”

This time, it was Rex that stilled. But then he relaxed and continued with his featherlight caresses. He’d anticipated that question. “Ladies first.”

“All my exes have cheated and lied to me. If there’s a faithful man out there, I can’t seem to find him. Why do men do it? They tell you they love you and want to be with you forever, and then five minutes later they’re banging somebody else.”

He quickly quashed the flare of indignation. While he hadn’t lied or cheated, he had walked out on his marriage, though not without reason. “Not all men are like that, Ramona. I’m certainly not.” He paused before answering her question. “Stacey’s my ex-wife.”

Ramona propped herself up on her elbow, her striking green eyes widening with surprise as he met her questioning gaze. “You were married? For how long?”

“Five years. I’ve been divorced for seven months now.”

“Why’d you split?”

“I wanted a family. She didn’t.” It hurt to say that, and, shit, wasn’t that the truth, too. Her eyes brimmed with questions that he didn’t want to answer. “I don’t want to talk about it. Sorry.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, seemed to think better of it, and then smiled seductively. “Okay. Let’s have jungle-jump sex.”

He groaned as she slid from the bed. “You’re kidding me?”

“Nope. I’ll go have a pee first.” Ramona paused in the doorway. “Why don’t you put your culinary skills to use again and go rustle up some food? It’ll keep our strength up. Oh, and some coffee. Caffeine’s good for an all-nighter of jungle-jump-sex.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Rex pushed himself to his feet, surprised none of his limbs objected. “Why don’t we go to Rendezvous? I hear it’s the best restaurant in the Beaverhead County. And luck would have it, it’s only a twenty-minute walk away. What?” he asked at her frown. “Too romantic? It’s only dinner, Ramona.”

“As in a date?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be. Look, I promise not to hold your hand or serenade you. And if there are candles on the table, I’ll blow them out.”

“Okay,” she grudgingly agreed. “I’ll grab a shower. Wanna join me?”

He ignored her sly and tempting smile. “I do and we’ll never leave.”

“But you smell.”

“I, what?” he asked, expressing indignation, before catching his sweaty odor. He grinned. “Point taken. I’ll have a shower. After you.” He poked his forefinger at her. “You’ve got ten minutes. Five minutes for the shower, five minutes to clean the mess you’ll no doubt leave.” He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

* * * *

Thirty minutes later, fresh smelling and presented in clean clothes—beige chinos and a white button-down shirt for him, jeans and an indigo sleeveless shirt for her—they were strolling down Beaverhead Street to Rendezvous, located on the corner of Main and Second.

Though he wanted to, Rex refrained from holding Ramona’s hand, but, and even if his life had depended on it, he couldn’t have stopped the eruption of laughter the moment they stepped across the restaurant’s threshold. With instrumental love songs playing over hidden speakers and tastefully decorated in soft, muted tones of brown and yellow, each table adorned with candles and a vase containing a single stemmed red rose, Rendezvous had “romance” stamped all over it.

“Ramona,” he whispered close to her ear as a thickset man with a thicket of white hair and rosy cheeks, and who reminded Rex of Santa Claus, approached them, “if I blow out the candles, everybody will be eating in the dark.”

“Ramona Anderson!” the man greeted, a wide, welcoming smile creasing the lines on his aging face. “What a lovely surprise. We don’t often see you in here.” His friendly eyes then turned somber. “I heard about Samantha. If there’s anything Barbara and I can do, then please ask.”

Ramona smiled. “Thanks.” She turned to Rex. “Rex, meet Clive Fraser. Clive, Rex Latimer.”

“We have met.” All the same, Rex shook the hand Fraser held out and then glanced around the busy interior. “I guess we should have booked.”

“You’re in luck. We have a free table. Follow me.”

With Ramona’s hand clasped in his—he couldn’t help himself—Rex followed Fraser to a table set in the corner of the far wall. He smiled as Fraser held Ramona’s chair out before sitting down himself. Their table seemed the most romantic in the restaurant. He picked up the menu, half expecting oysters, asparagus, chocolate, strawberries, and champagne to be the main fare. Instead, what he saw listed was a wide and varied selection of meat, fish, and vegetarian dishes.

“What would you like to drink?” Fraser asked, taking a small notepad from his shirt pocket.

Rex perused the wine list. He knew Ramona drank wine, but then reminded himself this was neither supposed to be romantic nor a date. He looked across at her. “Do you like beer? Two beers then, please,” he said at her nod.

“Any particular kind?”

He caught the mischievous glint that Ramona threw his way. “Budweiser.” Once Fraser had left, he relaxed back in his chair and glanced around. He noted the glances of sympathy being directed at Ramona from the other diners. “I guess everybody knows about Samantha.”

She nodded. “It’s a small town. News travels extremely fast.” She idly fingered the cream linen tablecloth. “Don’t get me wrong, Rex, I appreciate everybody’s support and kindness, but I just wish…”

“Wish for some space?” Rex offered when she trailed off.

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to go home?”

She looked up and smiled a little too brightly. “No. This is good. I’m good.”

Yeah, of course she was.

* * * *

Was she good?
Ramona couldn’t give a definite yes or no answer to that question as she studied Rex’s rugged and unshaven features over the flickering candlelight.
His “weekend whiskers” gave him an edgier quality to his already sex-on-legs masculinity.

Strange yet true, but ever since Rex had had his hand entombed within Storm’s rear end, she’d been in danger of turning slushy on him. Then he had really surprised her. Not only had he once been married, but with the admission for that split was because he’d wanted a family and his ex-wife hadn’t, Ramona had had the sudden need to comfort him. She wanted to let him know she was there for him, as he had been for her, and all because for a while he’d ceased to be a smug SOB.