Injustice for All by J. A. Jance Read Free Book Online Page B

and what wasn’t.
    Obviously we weren’t going right to sleep. I propped my pillow next to hers, examining her carefully, critically in the golden glow of the bedside lamp behind her. I studied the curve of her forehead, the clear green eyes under delicately arched brows, the fine, straight nose, the gentle pout of her lower lip. “You’re not the same person now. I think that’s what Sig wanted you to realize. “
    She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them, musing aloud. “I thought if I once quit drinking, that I’d be good enough, that Darrell would finally pay some attention to me. There are a lot of stories like that in A.A., you know, marriages that bounce back from the brink of disaster. But this is a thirty-six-year-old body.
    I can’t compete with tender blossoms from the secretarial pool. “
    Silence lengthened between us. Never glib, I could think of nothing to say. But then, I had never before found myself in quite this situation. “What’s the scar on your chest?”
    “Huh?” Her question startled me. I looked down as though I had forgotten it was my chest and my scar, the stark white of an incision highlighted against the rest of my skin. “It’s from a bullet,” I said. “When did it happen?” ‘
    “Last spring sometime,” I said carefully. The time, the date, the place are as indelibly inked on my soul as the scar is on my flesh. “Did you catch him?”
    “Who?”
    “The man who shot you.”
    “It was a woman. She’s dead.”
    “Oh. “
    “Do you mind turning out the lights?” I asked. I didn’t want to talk anymore. The conversation was circling too close to my own hurt. It was one thing to help Ginger with hers. Dealing with my own was something else. The light snapped off. I could feel Ginger settling on her side of the bed. I groped under the bed and located my .38. Once it was within easy reach, I lowered my pillow, resting on it as if it were full of thumbtacks or nails.
    “Beau?”
    “Yes.’
    “Could I just lie next to you? I need an arm around me. Someone to hold me.”
    Tentatively, I held up the covers. She slid across the bed and nestled into the crook of my arm. I inhaled the fragrant perfume of her freshly washed hair. I felt the curve of her hip next to mine, the gentle swell of her breast under a layer of coven;.
    For a long time we were quiet. I think I was holding my breath.
    “Beau?”
    “Yes.”
    “What are you thinking?”
    “I’m trying to remember which of the Ten Commandments says ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.’ “
    “Do you?”
    “Do I what?”
    “Covet me?”
    Right then I realized the Garden of Eden was a put-up job. “Yes.’ Her hand flitted across my chest, her touch inflaming every strained nerve in my body. She pulled herself up until she lay on my chest, her lips grazing mine.
    I was conscious of the tantalizing feel of silk against my skin, the musky odor of a woman’s awakening body. She kissed me, cautiously, as though unsure of my response.
    I wasn’t sure either. I waited long enough to be sure lightning still didn’t strike, then I pulled her to me, my mouth seeking hers, finding her hungry, willing, eager.
    She guided my hand through the cleft in her gown. Her breast was taut and expectant beneath my cupped fingers. I sampled her ear and traced the slender curve of her neck with my teeth and tongue. She gasped, and her body arched as gooseflesh swept across her skin beneath my fingertips. She slipped from my grasp. I heard her impatiently cast off the silken barrier of gown. My Fruit of the Loom hit the floor as well.
    Ginger came back to me naked, sleek, and ready. Beyond pleasure, she sought only release.
    She slid her body onto mine, moisture finding moisture, need finding need, plunging me deep within her. I grasped her slim waist, raising her, lowering her, hearing her sharp intake of breath each time I probed closer to home, each time I led her to the brink then drew her back, offering and