Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel Read Free Page A

shapes. Only Willow’s small sketchpad lay on the coffee table.
    Before Magdalena could take a step into the common room, a throaty moan reverberated through the otherwise still apartment. A wave of heat rushed over her body from the tips of her pink toenails to the top of her messy bun. She exhaled hard against the sensations brought to life by that tiny noise and tried to shake the tension coiling in her most intimate zones. For the love.
    It had been a long time since she’d thought about sex and even longer since she’d had it. A damn shame. But getting aroused from Willow’s moan made her skin feel a little dirty and the rest of her feel a whole lot horny. She eyed her tits and the fabric covering her erect nipples. Sorry gals, but now is not the time.
    Willow could have said, “Hey, my boyfriend’s coming over and I need to get laid. Could you give us a few hours alone? ” Sure, she’d have been jealous her friend had chosen to get laid over welcoming her home, but she’d have understood. Willow had been way overdue for a good lay when Mags left.
    Hell, maybe he’s married, or her professor. Maybe he’s a she. Magdalena smiled. The possibilities were endless, and she didn’t have time or brain power for all of them right now. She’d talk to Will tomorrow.
    With a shake of her head, Magdalena crept down the hallway, ignoring the sliver of light piercing the darkness from Willow’s bedroom, and ducked through the first doorway. Grateful, for once, a streetlight with the same wattage as the sun hung just outside her window, she avoided the two large suitcases she’d dumped in the middle of the wood floor only hours ago and closed in on the third smaller one on her desk chair.
    Like it had every other time before, the painting above her tiny lilac desk stole her breath. Strokes of vibrant green livened the background while bold swaths of violet, curls of yellow and brown, and wisps of white formed the most intricate Bee Orchid she’d ever seen. Her hand rubbed away the ache its sight composed in her heart. Better to have loved and lost. Than to never have loved at all. The pain eased with those words because they were true. She and her dad had taken them up as their motto the day her mother died.
    Willow whimpered and Magdalena automatically turned her head toward the sound. Her twin bed and wall collage of snapshots filled the space between her and the wall from which the passion seeped. Well piss. Where the hell am I going to move my bed? Can’t leave it on the fuck wall. It just wouldn’t do to get shaken out of bed before her alarm went off every morning. She stepped toward the pictures for a quick look at the wall-o-men she’d missed out on while getting her life together. They inhabited a majority of the photos, each a delightful memory of a shagging good time. And if she stayed in this sexed-up place a minute more she’d be tempted to give one or two of them a ring. Old habits and all.
    Mags turned away from her past, figuratively and literally. She crouched and reached for the zipper to collect her USB drive. A slap split the air. The unmistakable crack of forceful skin on skin contact crackled her instincts to life. Willow cried out. The shriek held no hint of throaty lust, only stunned pain. Magdalena’s guts origamied and a crane threatened to spew from her throat. Her hand fell from the bag and she leaned toward the door, straining to hear more and at the same time hoping like hell she didn’t.
    No wonder Will hadn’t told her why she needed the flat to herself. Her pitiful appearance made sense now. Willow dated some sack of crap who beat not only her self-esteem, but her body too.
    Willow May Wren, what the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into?
    Magdalena shot to her feet ready to knock this ass-hat for a spin, but stopped as her mind steamed ahead, taking another corner. She was all boobs and bluster. Sure Baine had shown her a few things over the years, things a lawyer shouldn’t