Alphas of Red Moon Ranch Complete Series Read Online Free Page B

her from the heat bubbling in her blood, making her lightheaded. She took a generous swallow and stole a glance at him. His eyes never left her. Made her feel naked and she set the glass down beside her, running her eyes over her questions.
    “Uh…” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then asked, “Considering the unique situation we find ourselves in, I think it’s only appropriate that we review our personal histories—”
    “Wait,” he said. He reached out and took her hand—she’d been so nervous, she hadn’t realized she was chewing the end of her pen. Gently, he guided it away from her mouth. “You don’t wanna be sucking on that pen around me,” he said and winked. “I might get ideas.”
    She laughed (breathlessly) and then fidgeted with her pen, keeping it in her lap. “Sorry. Old habits.” She uncrossed and crossed her legs again. His ideas were giving her ideas—thoughts about peeling that flannel shirt off his shoulders and kissing down his chest, following the lines of his muscles with her lips, until she reached that one, bulging muscle and swallowed it down. Could she crack his hard demeanor? Did he moan or would he just growl her name? Would he warn her before he came down her throat or would he hold her hair tighter?
    She could feel the heat from between her legs, pulsing, and it took everything in her not to start rocking vulgarly against her calf. Her whole body felt like it was throbbing. What was this man doing to her ?
    Questions. Right . She had her questions. She took a breath, reined herself in, and then grounded herself in the paper in front of her.
    “Have you ever been married?” she asked, proud of herself for keeping any tremors out of her voice.
    He shook his head. “No. No ex-wives. No kids.”
    Well, at least that cut down on the drama factor . “Why not?”
    “I don’t let anyone close enough to burn me.”
    She blinked. “Anyone?”
    His gaze matched hers. “Not yet.” She blushed and averted her eyes. Felt there was more to the story than he was letting on. He casually changed the topic with, “You mentioned your ex.”
    She nodded. “Yes. I’ve been married. Once. For fifteen years. No kids. Which should’ve been my first sign that he wasn’t in it for the long haul.”
    “What happened there?” he asked. His eyes were glued to hers. He looked genuinely interested, not that glazed-over, sympathetic look most people got when she told them about her divorce. Like she was reciting the details of a nasty car wreck she’d managed to crawl out of, barely holding onto life.
    She shrugged. Broke apart a cracker. “Fifteen years happened. He got bored of me. Wanted something shiny and new, I guess.”
    His eyebrows furrowed. “I could never get bored of you.”
    She laughed, but her guard was up now. Even talking about her divorce made her feel small and insignificant. She wanted checkered skin so she could blend in with the picnic blanket. “Say that in fifteen years,” she said. “When all we talk about is taxes and whose turn it is to take out the trash. When all of our fights start with I’ve told you over and over . When I stop shaving my legs and—”
    He reached over and moved his hand to her leg. His touch—warm, surprisingly gentle—stilled her tongue and forced her eyes to meet his onyx gaze. “With the life I’ve had, that sounds positively thrilling .”
    “Even if I stop shaving my legs?”
    He grinned. “I like fur.”
    She mulled over his answer, took another sip from her glass, and asked, “What kind of life have you had?”
    “A long one.” He picked a cherry out of the bowl, popped it into his mouth, and then said, “I’ve made mistakes.”
    “Me too,” she piped up, then added, “Well, you know. The whole…getting married to the wrong man thing. Not my brightest moment. What mistakes did you make?”
    His eyes were patient, but his lips pressed into a thin line. “You talk about your ex a lot.”
    “Do I?”