Jackson Memorial
(2013)(The first book in the Jackson Memorial series)
A novel by Keith Thomas Walker
When someone gets banged up in Overbrook Meadows, Texas, they all end up at the same hospital. Welcome to a place where affair isn’t a dirty word, patients are fair game to scams and even the parking garage gets steamy on third-shift. Welcome to Jackson Memorial.
●●●●● Excerpt ●●●●●
She stepped to him slowly, and Ruben spread his legs to accommodate her. When she reached him, she put her hands on his shoulders, and the towel fell to the floor. Ruben looked her up and down slowly, his eyes devouring her nipples, belly button, every pore.
He placed his hands on her hips. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach.
“I love your skin,” he whispered.
Cynthia ran both of her hands through his brunette hair, which was very different than the hair she was used to seeing on her boyfriends.
“Why?” she asked.
Ruben continued to plant soft kisses on her belly. His lips were thin, but they were warm. Each kiss sent a pulse of energy through her stomach and made her spine tingle. His white skin stood in sharp contrast to Cynthia’s dark complexion, almost like zebra stripes.
“It’s so deep,” Ruben said between kisses. “So pure. It’s beautiful.”
He put a hand on her chest and traced two fingers down to her belly button. “I wish I could make your color,” he said, “in a bowl, like cake mix.” He kissed her areola and sucked the nipple on the opposite breast. “I would eat it raw,” he whispered. “I’d lick the bowl clean. I love everything about your skin, the smell, the taste…”
© Keith Thomas Walker
●●●●● Excerpt ●●●●●
She stepped to him slowly, and Ruben spread his legs to accommodate her. When she reached him, she put her hands on his shoulders, and the towel fell to the floor. Ruben looked her up and down slowly, his eyes devouring her nipples, belly button, every pore.
He placed his hands on her hips. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach.
“I love your skin,” he whispered.
Cynthia ran both of her hands through his brunette hair, which was very different than the hair she was used to seeing on her boyfriends.
“Why?” she asked.
Ruben continued to plant soft kisses on her belly. His lips were thin, but they were warm. Each kiss sent a pulse of energy through her stomach and made her spine tingle. His white skin stood in sharp contrast to Cynthia’s dark complexion, almost like zebra stripes.
“It’s so deep,” Ruben said between kisses. “So pure. It’s beautiful.”
He put a hand on her chest and traced two fingers down to her belly button. “I wish I could make your color,” he said, “in a bowl, like cake mix.” He kissed her areola and sucked the nipple on the opposite breast. “I would eat it raw,” he whispered. “I’d lick the bowl clean. I love everything about your skin, the smell, the taste…”
© Keith Thomas Walker
Used availability for Keith Walker's Jackson Memorial