Hot Ink (Paranormal Erotic Romance): Book I (A Walsh Jackson Novel 1) Read Online Free PDF

She peeked over the side of the tub. Work flashed on the screen. Damn. She flushed her face with water and answered.
    “SAC, Ash?” It was Connie. She never called her SAC unless it was really important. “You’d better get in here. All hell’s breaking loose.”
    “I’m on my way.”

Five
    Walsh had done the mental calculations; he even argued with himself over the results. Eight hours was plenty of time to wait before calling her–if he was a stalker. Walsh had fought with himself like this all day. He hadn’t opened the shop and nobody seemed to care that he was closed. A day off after a night like he had was in due order. All he needed now was a little more Bridget.
    Giving up on playing the game side of the argument, he reached into his desk and removed her consent form haphazardly folded and thrown into the top drawer. To his total surprise, Walsh found the contents of the form less than helpful: Bridget Vixen, 1234 Intercourse Way, Climax, PA. 555-555-DoMe.
    Walsh couldn’t help but laugh. A jokester, and his kind of humor, but it meant he couldn’t call her and ask her out on a proper date. He was going to have to wait for her, and that sent him into a quiet fury while also arousing him. She seemed the type who liked to call the shots, and that had surprised him, until now.
    Walsh found his mind turning to Bridget–her long legs, her round supple breasts, the way she inhaled his cock. Heat rose in his groin. Shutting the blinds and laying himself on the couch, Walsh let his mind wander to her as he slid a hand down to stroke himself. He pumped his fist up and down inside his jeans, feeling the flesh stretch under his touch. In his mind, she straddled him, naked and ready, a sly smile laid across her beautiful mouth. Tell me how it feels, she whispered. Walsh could feel her mouth drink him again, feel every groove on her tongue, as she guzzled him whole.
    An unexpected knock at the front door jolted him out of his fantasy.
    Shit.
    Walsh peered out of the blinds. Standing on the curb was Miami Metro Detective Jim Nash, a person he knew too well for all the wrong reasons.
    Walsh quickly adjusted himself, his hungry cock now completely devoid of appetite, and opened the door. “Detective Nash,” he said. “It’s been awhile.”
    “Yes, it has.” Nash stepped past Walsh and entered the shop. “What have you been up to?”
    “You know, this and that.” Walsh kept his eyes steady on the detective. His surprise visits like these were never without warrant, yet nothing he had done lately would have earned it.
    “Coffee?” Walsh offered.
    Nash glanced his watch. “Why not?”
    Walsh poured out two cups for the second time that day.
    “What happened to your hand?” Nash asked as he took the mug.
    “This?” Walsh said flexing and relaxing his fingers. “This is stupid, salt in an old wound.”
    Nash arched an eyebrow as he took a swig from the steaming cup.
    “Old wound, huh? Would that old wound happened to be Bob Grim?”
    Walsh eyed Nash. He place the mug gently on the coffee table in front of him. “Could be. Why you asking?”
    Nash put his cup down on the table next to Walsh’s. “I went by Zeek’s. The bartender told me this lovely story about how you and Bob got chummy with your fists last night.”
    Walsh shrugged. “It was nothing. Just two old friends working things out.”
    “What did you do after?”
    “I came back here.”
    “Can anyone attest to that?”
    Walsh narrowed his eyes. “Maybe. What’s this all about?”
    Nash reached for his cup and paused. He set his jaw. “Bob Grim and your ex-wife were found murdered this morning.”
    Heaviness sank in Walsh’s stomach. He got to his feet. He paced around the couch with his bandaged hand rubbing his temple, as if trying to work his mind into understanding what he had just heard. “Where?” he asked softly.
    “In their shop,” Nash said. “I’m here because everyone knows that you and Bob didn’t see eye to eye all the