Catch Me Falling Read Online Free PDF Page B

her shoulders, back, and stomach. The ones on her shoulders and back were from cigarettes, when she'd been used as an ashtray. The small, jagged scars on her stomach were from broken beer bottles and, on one terrifying occasion, a knife. That had been the night she left. The night he almost killed her.
    She pressed a finger into one of the scars on her stomach, hissed as it sent little waves of pain through her body. The tissue was mostly numb, but still sensitive to pain. It made her feel alive, like she was in control of what happened to her. Like she wasn’t tethered to her past.
    She hopped in the shower, letting the hot water wash her worries away. Isaac wasn’t the past. He wasn’t the future, either, but she didn’t care about that. For now she would kiss him, screw him, and enjoy how it made her feel. He was dangerous, and that made him sexier. It was technically a conflict of interest, having sex with him. He evaluated her cases. But he didn’t testify in court and didn’t make her decisions, so neither of them would get in trouble. Not that she cared. She was tired of caring about what others would think of her. She’d keep work at work, and sex at – well, wherever they ended up. He would just have to do the same.
    Tomorrow they were getting coffee, and then getting intimately acquainted with her desk. It’d never been used for that before. She had never been used for that before. It sent a thrill through her, thinking about it. Him bending her over her desk, thrusting into her from behind, holding her hips in place so she could take all of him…
    She was down with that.
    She scrubbed her sensitive skin with her loofah, careful as she went over the scars. It made sense to have coffee with her consultants, build a working relationship. In this case she needed one outside of whatever room they used to have sex. She worked with her consultants in close quarters, discussed sensitive topics. Most weren’t happy to be ratting out other doctors, to be criticizing their medical management, but she did her best to make it was easy as she could. There had to be a certain level of trust.
    A little voice whispered that she wanted to have coffee with him, get to know him beyond what he did to her body. The way he played her like a familiar instrument, his kisses just the right pressure, his cock fitting so perfectly into her. She groaned, tilted her head back as she shampooed her hair, imagining it was his long fingers working the shampoo into her hair. It was domestic but she didn’t care. He could pick her up, hold her against the cold tile, screw her senseless until she couldn’t remember her name. He could kneel down, spread her legs, eat her out until she screamed. What was the point of getting clean if they weren’t dirty? Like her imagination. Thankfully no one could read her mind.
    He was a man, just good for sex. All men were the same. Nice at first, sweet and caring. Then it took less than six months for the masks to fall, just like Damien’s had. No, she wouldn't risk that again. Wouldn't risk being somebody who ended up in the papers, or even in her own ER. It was too dangerous. Too shameful. She had hardly been able to bear it at sixteen, to have everyone in her small town known what had happened in her family. What had happened to her, her mother. All of the stupid gossip that had eaten at her until she hadn’t been able to handle it. Until she had run away.
    She rinsed her hair out, stepped out from underneath the shower. She dried herself off, picturing his hands against her skin, holding her close, keeping her warm. Mm, he’d be good at that. His long, talented fingers…
    Tomorrow would come soon enough.
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    A lexa was second to the cafeteria. She could see him standing by the entrance, his attention on his phone. “Good morning.” She walked up next to him, looked at him. He was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt again. Professional, but easy to take off. How convenient.
    “Did you