Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Marie Jermy

He obviously loved her. Sometimes I think he still does.”
    “And what about you? Did Greg forgive you for employing Mimi?”
    “Oh, yeah. I can be very persuasive.”
    “I don’t doubt it,” Rex murmured, finishing his wine and picking up the bottle. “Dinner should be ready now. Hungry?”
    “Starving. What are we having?”
    “Salad.”
    “Salad? I thought you said you were going to cook?”
    “Did I?”
    He laughed at her dramatic eye roll. Ramona followed Rex through to the house. He could feel her eyes on his ass all the way. Once in the kitchen, he pulled a chair out for her and then served up two large plates of salad and fries.
    “I admit I’m useless in the kitchen,” he said, “but are you questioning my ability in opening a bag of frozen fries and putting them in the oven for twenty minutes?” Rex laughed and ducked when Ramona threw her napkin at him.
    The good-humored banter continued between them as they ate, but then Ramona broached the subject of the house.
    “About the house, Rex, I’ve been thinking…”
    “Yeah, me, too. We obviously have a problem with the bathroom, what with there only being the one, but I’ve an idea that may—”
    “Are you going to sell?” she interrupted.
    “No.”
    “Move out?”
    “Ramona, I am neither selling nor moving out.”
    “Neither am I,” she was quick to add.
    “As I was going to say, I think the problem can be sorted by turning the smallest bedroom into a second bathroom. One for me. One for you. We don’t have to share then. And you can make as much mess as you like. Well, think about it,” he said, throwing her earlier words back at her when her luscious mouth opened and closed but no reply was forthcoming.
    Ramona’s smile seemed forced as she gestured to the kettle. He knew she was not in a good mood, but that was tough. He was not budging on the subject of the house.
    “Coffee?” she asked.
    “Sure. You go through.” A couple of minutes later, Rex joined Ramona in the living room. The second he saw her curled up on the sofa, he wanted to join her and put his arms around her and kiss her. Wanted to press her down into the cushions and make love to her hard and fast, gentle or slow. He didn’t have a preference.
    He handed her a mug and pointedly sat in the armchair. Well, isn’t this cozy, he thought, heavy on the sarcasm, blocking out the image of naked flesh, tangled limbs, and heavy breathing that had immediately caused a distinct lack of space in the crotch of his jeans. All that was missing was Ramona asking him for his life story.
    And to Rex’s amusement, that was exactly what Ramona did.
    “Where are you from? Originally, I mean.”
    “Lakeview. New Orleans.”
    “What are your parents like? Are they still alive?”
    Rex gave a wry grin. This part of his life he was comfortable talking about. “ I don ’ t remember my mother at all. She died when I was only a few months old. My father … Well, let ’ s just say he ran the house with an iron rod and an even harder backhand.”
    “ He hit you? ” Ramona gasped.
    “ Whenever he was drunk. Which was often.” He gave a slight shrug. “He missed my mother, and I know he loved her. He spoke of her every day. I think he turned to drink to block out the pain of losing her.”
    “That’s no excuse for hitting you.”
    “No, no excuse,” Rex agreed. He gave another shrug and continued. “Anyway, then I learned to fight back. Well, when I say ‘fight,’ I mean that metaphorically. I never punched my father. Never kicked him. Never used a weapon. I was fourteen, and just because I’d been abused, I knew right from wrong. I refused to turn into an abuser like him. I’m stronger than that.”
    A brief nod of her head was accompanied with an even briefer glance up and down his body. Was the “sex kitten” checking him out? His cock sprang into life.
    “What happened?” she croaked. She hurriedly took a sip of coffee. “I mean, what did you do to make him