Dark Mysteries Read Online Free PDF Page A

underneath her breasts.
    She
heard him exhale a breath, the sound hissing out of his mouth. He
pushed off the door frame and came closer, towering over her. His
head looking down. His hand came up slowly and he looked up at her,
like he was asking permission.
    “I
just want to check your ribs,” he explained, waiting.
    She
gave him a tight nod of her head and his hands went to her skin,
gentle, whisper-light at first, testing her pain tolerance. She
closed her eyes, half against the pain, half trying to ignore the
rush of an almost foreign sensation through her body. It worked it's
way from his touch to deep in her belly then moving downward. Her
eyes flew open, looking at herself in the mirror, realizing with
absolute clarity, that it was desire. She looked down at the top of
his head, his black hair shiny and soft-looking.
    Her
heart started to beat a little faster in her chest and she pushed her
thighs tightly together. What the hell? She couldn't seriously be
into her private investigator. She shook her head. She was just
overly tired. Worked up from the events of the night.
    His
fingers started to press into her skin then, pushing away the wave of
desire and making her gasp. He looked up at her apologetically, but
his fingers kept pressing, moving across her skin. She closed her
eyes, feeling tears welling up, and trying to fight them off.
    His
hand fell from her a few seconds later. He reached behind her and
opened the closet, pulling out a bunch of still-sealed elastic
bandages. “I don't think they're broken,” he said, his
voice softer than it had been before. “They're just really
badly bruised and they're going to hurt for a while, but we are going
to wrap you anyway just in case,” he said, sounding almost
sorry. Like he had been the one to kick her. “Alright, hands
up,” he instructed, waiting for her to cross both her hands
across her chest, holding her shirt in place, protecting her breasts
from view. “This isn't going to feel great,” he warned
her, starting to wrap, pulling the bandages tight around her belly.
He wrapped her with two bandages quickly, efficiently. He nodded,
reaching for the hem of her sweatshirt and pulling it down. “Okay.
You're all set,” he said, stepping away, his voice sounding
airy.
    “Th...
thanks,” she said, looking over at him as he backed out into
the hallway, like he needed to get away from her.
    “Don't
mention it,” he said, quickly moving back into the apartment.
    Jesus.
He paced the floor next to the kitchen for a moment, running a hand
over his face. He hadn't expected that when she had called him in.
Not the sprawling, painful marks all over her side. She must have
been kicked, hard, over and over in her side for the bruises to be
that widespread and deeply-colored.
    He
didn't remember her saying she was kicked. He would check back on his
notes, but he was pretty sure that wasn't part of her story. Which
wasn't completely unusual. Plenty of people didn't recall their
traumas with a lot of clarity. He was impressed she remembered as
much as she did. He heard her move into the room, quietly walking
over to her couch and sitting down.
    He
glanced at the clock, realizing it was well after three in the
morning. He needed to get some sleep. In the morning, he needed to
take a trip to her apartment. See if there was anything he could find
out. Then he needed to see if he could catch that cheating husband in
the act if he wanted a paycheck.
    Turning,
he flicked off the main light, leaving only a small glow from the one
on his nightstand. He moved toward his bed, kicking off his shoes,
and pulling off his shirt. He was about to reach for his jean zipper
when he thought better of it. He certainly couldn't sleep naked with
her in the room. He sighed, getting into bed and sitting up. He
reached for the remote for the stereo. “Do you sleep better
with or without noise?” he asked.
    “Whatever
works better for you,” she answered automatically, slowly
moving into a