Rex by Beth Michele Read Free Book Online Page A

blush.” He reaches for a bottle of water on the side table. “Want some?”
    “No thanks.” Glancing at the table next to me, I find a framed photograph of three boys, all wearing baseball shirts. The two in the back are obviously Rex and Hunter, a little boy kneeling in front of them. “You and Hunter haven’t changed a bit.” I lift the picture to examine it more closely.
    “Yeah.” He polishes off the water, throwing the bottle in a nearby trash can.
    “Who’s this little boy? He’s adorable.”
    He spins around with ice in his eyes, expelling a loud breath, the playfulness from earlier, gone. “What’s with the fifty questions? Listen, I’m going to take a shower.”
    With another audible breath, he stalks off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, and I suddenly feel as if I’ve been slapped in the face. I guess it’s not okay to ask questions, even though we just fucked and he went down on me. Twice.
    Whatever.
    I wait until I hear the shower running then slide off the bed, fishing around the house for the remainder of my clothing. I’m not sticking around. There’s really no need to.
    As soon as I’m dressed, I snatch my purse from the floor, fuming, wanting to scream though I have no idea why. I shake my head as if to clear it and am about to walk out the door when Rex’s arm stops me. I pivot to find him dripping water all over the carpet, a towel wrapped around his waist.
    “Listen,” he blows out a breath, “I’m sorry I acted like a dick. And you don’t have to go.”
    “Yes, I do.” I snatch my arm away. “I need to get up early tomorrow.” It’s not true, but he doesn’t need to know that.
    He curls his fingers into a fist, his jaw ticking, seemingly fighting for control. “I-I can’t talk about it, okay?” Tilting his head to the side, his gaze slides to mine and I know exactly what he’s looking for—understanding. Since he gave it to me earlier, I feel like I owe him that much.
    “Sure.” I break away from his eyes, digging inside my purse to distract from the sudden awkwardness claiming me.
    “Hey.” He slips his index finger under my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. “I had a good time tonight.”
    “I did, too.” My response is soft, a ghost of a smile creeping across my cheeks.
    “So, can I have your cell? Maybe we can get together again? Well,” he chuckles, “as long as I promise not to act like a dick.”
    “I guess you kind of owed me one for acting like a bitch,” I pipe back, and he laughs, surprising me by pulling me in for a kiss.
    “So, we’re even now,” he says against my lips, his erection pressing against me through the towel, making me want to rip it off. I dig in the purse that’s now crushed between us, finding a pen and a scrap piece of paper. He backs up long enough for me to write my number down.
    “Here.” I hand it to him, and he stares down at it before looking back to me.
    “This is your number, right?”
    “Yeah, why?” My smile falters and I frown.
    “Just double-checking, I want to make sure I didn’t destroy my chances to see you again,” he replies, folding the paper into a square. “All right, I’ll walk you out.”
    “Rex,” I grin, “we’re standing right in front of the door, and you’ve got a towel on anyway.”
    “True.” His eyes lower to his towel. “But who wouldn’t want an eyeful of my junk?”
    “Oh my God. I’m going now.” I giggle as I walk out the door, the echo of his chuckle staying with me long after I’ve left the building.

 
     
     
    “I’m impressed,” Stevie says, looking beyond me at the butterflies and cherry blossom tattoo I just finished on India’s lower back. I have to admit myself, it looks fucking awesome. “I love the way the butterflies appear to be flying through the tree.” He clasps my shoulder. “Nice work, Rex.”
    “Thanks.”
    Once I give India aftercare instructions, she hops off the chair, sliding her shirt back down over the bandage. She’s