Five Ways to Fall Read Online Free PDF Page A

lines.”
    “Huh . . .” She ponders that for a moment while I inhale her perfume. She smells like strawberries and cream. I wonder if she tastes like strawberries and cream. “What are you, a detective?”
    “Bouncer at a strip club.”
    Her head falls back and she starts laughing, a deep, throaty laugh that I want to record and play back again at a later date. “Of course you are.”
    I shrug. “It pays the bills.” I could kill whatever assumptions she’s making about me by telling her why I’m really here in Cancún: to celebrate finishing law school and taking the bar exam.
    But I don’t.
    I simply watch her tongue curl around the salty rim of her glass. Dirty thoughts flash through my head and I’m forced to discreetly adjust myself. If she notices, she doesn’t comment. Hell, she probably knows exactly what she’s doing to me. There are no innocent vibes coming off this chick.
    “And what do you do?” I ask.
    She purses her lips. “I’m a marine biologist. From Seattle.”
    “A Doogie Howser marine biologist?” The girl could pass for twenty-three. Twenty-four, tops.
    “I’m twenty-nine.”
    “Sure you are.” I jut my chin in her friend’s direction. “And she’s Korean, right?”
    In response, her friend spews off a string of something that sounds a hell of a lot like Korean, followed by a smug smile, and I’m left with my mouth gaping wide.
    Okay. Still . . . “Marine biologist? Really?”
    She takes another long draw of her drink and licks her lips before she announces, “I love me some big fish.” Yeah . . . lying . Fine. I’ll play along. “How long are you here for?” she asks, feigning disinterest, as the guys find chairs and pull her friends’ attention away.
    I let my eyes skate over her features again, silently counting seven piercings—two in her nose and five in her ear—and wondering how many more she has hidden under those tight little shorts and that tank top of hers. And I suddenly find myself wishing I were just starting my vacation today. “This is my last night.”
    “Really . . .” An unreadable look passes through her eyes as they quickly flitter over my features, landing on my mouth. “The exorcism needs more time,” she mumbles under her breath.
    What the fuck? Wouldn’t that just be my luck to land a nut job for my last night. Not that that couldn’t be fun. I’m always up for something different. “Maybe we should start right away then?”
    The heated look she shoots me with—like she’s deciding between jumping onto my lap and filleting me—makes me give this a moment’s pause. Maybe I should be more careful about who I bring back to my room. I take another look at her frame—she’s probably too small to cause any real damage without weapons—and notice the giant name inked into her arm. As much as I want to trace the letters, I keep my hands to myself. It’s like petting a strange dog; you don’t even reach out until you know it’s not going to lunge at you. So I point at the tattoo instead. “That would suck if it were an ex.”
    “Yeah, it would .” The bite in her tone is suddenly back, and this time it comes with a sheen just barely glistening in her eyes. She quickly blinks it away, trying to keep the tough act going. Dammit . I groan inwardly as disappointment settles in. She’s not just scorned. She’s still raw . She’s going to be one of those drunk chicks who suddenly erupts in tears. Probably during sex.
    Nothing worse than a girl crying halfway through sex. A definite limp dick maker.
    She clears her throat. “I didn’t see any tattoos on you .”
    Okay, at least she’s trying to steer the conversation away from her and her current situation. I can roll with that. “You haven’t seen all of me yet.” I know I sound like a cocky bastard, but it somehow works for me.
    A tiny sly grin curves her mouth for just a moment before she stifles it, as if she didn’t mean to let it slip out. “Any hidden