Conveniently Convicted

by Ivy Asher

  He gives me the look. “I assure you, I have high standards, Sinclair.” He says my name with the hint of a purr that makes my clit sit up and take notice like a dog ready for a treat. “You should really talk to someone about that low self-esteem, though. You shouldn’t be classifying yourself as just any ol’ willing female. You should think more highly of yourself.”

  I roll my eyes and try to erase the blush from creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. Did he just admit that he’s into me? I have to stop myself from giggling and batting my lashes at him.

  Get it together, Sinclair.

  Despite my efforts to rein it in, heat and desire fills the space between us until it almost feels like I can wrap my hands around it. I find myself picturing me and him together, of me straddling his lap while I run my tongue over the seam of his mouth. I imagine how he’d feel, all hard and stable beneath me, getting up close and personal with his masculine beauty and those entrancing eyes of his.

  But...what the hell am I doing? Regardless if he’s working on a plan to sell me out to Alpha Bowen or not, he’s a prison guard.

  When the silence stretches between us, both of us endure this pull and tug between us until Rook finally gets to his feet, severing it. “I better go. If the other guards find out I’m down here, they’ll give me shit.”

  “Okay. Tell the Warden I said hi.”

  He snorts. “Definitely not gonna do that.”

  I snicker. “Scaredy cat.”

  “Hell yeah. Everyone is scared of that fucker.”

  “I heard that he slinks around in the shadows at night and sucks on people’s souls while they sleep.”

  “Guess you’re safe,” Rook teases.

  I throw my apple core at him. “Hey! I’ll have you know that my soul is awesome, and he’d probably really love the taste of me.”

  Whoops, badly worded. At the mention of my taste, Rook’s eyes take on such an intense heated look, that I’m forced to glance away.

  “Behave, Sinclair,” he says roughly as he opens the iron door with a loud creak. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I nod and follow him, pressing my face up against the rectangular peephole as he closes the door behind him and locks up. “How long are they making me stay in here?”

  “One day for every guard you gave the smack-down to.”

  I groan. “Geez, you swipe your tail one time and everyone loses their minds.”

  He smirks. “Good luck with your tunnel.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, wriggling my fingers at him as he turns and walks down the dark corridor. I watch until I can’t see him anymore, and then I slump onto my flat pillow and dump out the satchel, intending to use the rest of the contents to do a little bit of interior decorating in this place. It needs all the color it can get.

  The second the contents are on the floor at my feet, my eyes home in on the green rock he left for me—the same one he held up to me in the rec yard when I was in my beast form.

  A smile crosses my lips as I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers, admiring the color and texture. My tail slithers out to rub on it like a cat, and I realize with a little bit of dread that I already miss the asshole, and he’s only been gone for five seconds.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  Rook is hanging out with me in my solitary cell again, just like he’s visited me every day for the past three days. His visits are the only thing I can look forward to, because solitary is...well, solitary. It’s lonely. Boring. Time drags like a dog’s ass on the carpet. But the moment my ears perk up at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor, I know it’s him, and my heart goes full flutter. It’s fucking annoying.

  He usually shows up just when my stomach starts to growl and I’ve gone through all my food, like magic. And despite all the warnings I tell myself, despite the fact that I know I shouldn’t, I’ve formed a friendship with him already. I’ve learned how funny he can be, how easy to talk to, and that we have things in common. Plus, he’s very easy on the eyes, and he always brings me a satchel full of goodies. What’s not to like?

  Today, he smuggled me in an entire hot plate of dinner. I nearly moaned when I saw the steam. After days of tepid water and packaged food, eating a bowl of hot chili and fresh cornbread was like heaven. He also brought me another rock. It’s sitting against the wall with the other one, and I’m not too proud to admit that they’re the best things in the room.

  “I’m just saying, you’re not a very good prison guard, that’s all,” I tell Rook as we sit across the small room, our outstretched feet touching every so often when we move.

  He has a big bag of chips that he’s been chomping on for the past ten minutes, and he lifts his fingers into his mouth every once in a while to lick off the salt. My mouth waters every time. I find myself wanting to snatch his hand and suck those fingers into my mouth instead, and it’s not because of the sodium craving.

  “Fuck that noise, I’m an awesome guard,” he tells me.

  “You tried to talk my cockatrice down instead of tasing me like the others,” I point out, mostly because I’m curious as to why he did that. I’ve been thinking about it for days.

  “Why would I tase you?”

  “Did you see me? I was ferocious.”

  He laughs and licks his fingers again before he runs his tongue over his pillowy bottom lip. I find myself mimicking him, and the corner of his mouth kicks up a notch. “You were adorable.”

  Immediately, I rear back and frown at him. “Adorable?” I say, affronted. “I was not adorable. I was vicious and bloodthirsty! Did you see the barrel rolls I did in the air?”

  “I saw,” he says, clearly trying not to smile. “Really good flying.”

  “Thank you,” I say pertly.

  “Personally, I wanted you to do more barrel rolls and throw the wolf fucker off you. I was this close to fucking him up that day.”

  His words catch me off guard. “Why?”

  Rook shrugs and buries his eyes and hand in the chip bag, like he’s avoiding looking at me. “Because. I didn’t like to see you hurt.”

  Aww.

  My cockatrice perks up inside me, and the hair on my head turns a deep, beating heart red, right along with the plume of feathers at the end of my tail.

  “Oh,” I say awkwardly.

  “I should’ve let you fuck him up,” he goes on, swallowing his mouthful. “And I wouldn’t mind tasing some of those guards, either.”

  “See?” I say, pointing at his face. “Terrible prison guard. You definitely have fucked up standards.”

  “Fucked up standards?”

  “Mm-hmm. Why else would you be hanging out in solitary confinement with a convict?” I challenge.

  Rook chuckles and finally sets aside his bag of chips. I’m half-relieved, half-disappointed that I won’t see any more finger-tongue action. “Come on, now. I saw what you were found guilty of. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t lose sleep at night over talking to someone who took an ice cream truck and went all Robin Hood with the contents. If the police hadn’t forced you to crash, you’d have had to pay a fine for the ice cream and gas and that would’ve been it. You’re not exactly a hardened criminal.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Am so! I set off a glitter bomb in the cop’s car, and it went off right in his face,” I tell him, urging him to be impressed with my unlawful prowess. “Plus, I have my shank business to prove it,” I argue.

  He starts laughing, and I watch as he grabs his stomach, his whole body rocking with amusement. It would almost be contagious if it weren’t at my expense.

  Rude.

  “Do you really think the guards around here would let you make actual weapons?” he questions, his laugh getting a little higher in pitch as he wipes a laugh-tear from his eye.

  I look at him incredulously. “What do you mean actual weapons?” I demand.

  “Pieces of comb stuck in tooth paste?” he offers, like it proves something.

  “Hey, The Minty Hedgehog is lethal as fuck!” I
defend, and Rook completely loses his shit at the name.

  He starts laugh-squealing like a ticklish little girl while mouthing The Minty Hedgehog over and over again. I watch his breakdown with a lot of judgement in my green eyes, not appreciating his lack of appreciation at all. He slaps his knee with one hand like that will help him get over the giggles faster.

  I have to bite my bottom lip to keep it from poking out to reveal the pout I feel. I’m tempted to throw something at him.

  “Well, the joke’s on you, because people are buying them. They clearly see the potential my work has in aiding their vendettas,” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’re super dangerous. You could totally shank-kill someone with one of them.”

  Rook stops laughing long enough to shake his head and reply. “They’re buying them to get on Zen’s good side. Word on the block is that she’s got something in the works for a break out. They all want to be taken with her,” he tells me, and my mouth drops open.

  Well, shit. He just might be right.

  “Word on the block, huh? More like, word from Alpha Bowen, your puppet master,” I accuse.

  “Why would I be working for Alpha Bowen?” Rook asks.

  “You tell me.”

  He shakes his head, and I go quiet as I try to think through other business opportunities I could do. I can’t believe no one really likes my shanks. I thought they were awesome. I have to make money somehow though, or I’ll go crazy without being able to make deals for necessities and snacks.

  I guess I could keep selling them, regardless of whether or not the other inmates actually find them useful or not, since I’m still turning a profit. I try to think about what else I could procure or fashion into a must-need item here in Nightmare Penitentiary.

  Rook smiles as he watches me think, and I’m momentarily distracted by his dimples again.

  I want to lick them.

  I shake away that thought and grab the rest of my cornbread, shoving it into my mouth in a massive bite. Maybe if I keep my mouth full, I can convince it not to do all the naughty things that are currently streaming through my head.

  Rook watches as I chew, his eyes darting down to trace the movement of my tongue as I lick up the crumb spilling over my bottom lip. His green eyes darken slightly, and then his hair, which I thought was just glowing from the trick of the light earlier, actually starts to glow glow.

  I choke on my bite until I can swallow it down and then shoot up to my feet. “Holy shit. You can glow?” I ask, pointing at his head.

  It’s super rare for cockatrices to be able to shift colors like I can with my feathers and hair and whatever touches my skin, but it’s even more rare for a cockatrice to be able to illuminate all its pretty colors.

  I’m suddenly like Ariel, my eyes hypnotized and reflecting Ursula’s glowing contract. I can’t stop staring at his luminescent green and blue hair. The end of my tail thrashes out of my pocket before I can stop it, and it starts flicking around like it wants to twerk its way into his pants. Oh hell, how am I supposed to resist him now? This is bad.

  We stare at each other, eyes wide, breath caught, and some major sexual tension spreads between us and sticks us together like glue.

  Fuck, he’s hot.

  Muscles. Dimples. Glowy hair. Gah! I can’t stop looking at the glowy hair!

  I’m suddenly wet and hot between my thighs, and he’s growing himself a snake in his pants.

  “Stop glowing!” I snap, well...I try to snap at him. It comes out like a really embarrassing moan. I bite on my bottom lip hard enough to split it.

  “I can’t,” he says through clenched teeth. Even his fists are clenched at his sides. His entire body has gone rigid, and his eyes are stuck on the movements of my tail, as my feathers bounce from yellow to orange to red and back again. Show-off.

  I need to turn around. I need to stop looking, and he needs to leave before I do something I’ll regret. He’s probably the enemy, I remind myself. My cockatrice rolls her eyes at me. If she had fingers, she’d flip me off, because she doesn’t give a fuck. She just wants to fuck.

  “Rook…” I warn.

  But instead of hightailing it out of my solitary confinement cell like he should, he seems to lose just as much control as me, because his hair starts glowing even brighter, and then his goddamn neck wobbles.

  I’m only so strong, dammit.

  “Fuck.”

  We both move at the same time.

  In an instant, we’re slapping against each other like pancakes on a skillet.

  His mouth crashes onto my mine, my hands sink into his hair, and our pelvises grind against each other while my tail enters a goddamn flicking frenzy.

  I need him to fuck me right now, or I’m going to explode from need.

  “Let me fuck you,” he growls into my ear, like me trying to maul him with my mouth and vagina wasn’t permission enough.

  “Yeah, duh. Hurry up!” I snap before I start climbing him like Mt. Everest. I need him in me ASAP.

  He slams my back against the iron wall, and my adrenaline hikes up along with my shirt as he delves a hand beneath the fabric to squeeze my breast. Ohmygawd his hand is so hot on my flesh, and he’s squeezing with just the right amount of force.

  “Grab my cock,” he orders.

  “Then get it out for me, asshole!”

  He chuckles, and I feel his hand go between us and land on his belt. He has a whole prison guard buckle situation going on down there that I don’t have the time or the patience for, quite frankly.

  My open mouth trails over his neck, my teeth grazing his pulse as he undoes his belt, buttons, zippers and hell knows what else. When I finally feel his pants drop around his ankles, I slap his hand away so that I can grind against him.

  “Fuck, Sunrise. Slow down.”

  Aww, he’s using my nickname during sexy times. That’s cute, but… “No.”

  Wrapping my hand around him, I get the full experience of his girth. He’s thick. And heavy. And his skin is so damn soft, yet his cock is so hard, it makes my mouth water.

  “You better know how to use this thing,” I tell him.

  He nips my neck, scattering goosebumps over my flesh. “I know how to use it. You better know how to take it.”

  Fuck, now I’m drenched.

  As if he can scent it, his hand comes down to the waistband of my pants and slips inside, his thick, hot fingers skimming over my panties. My very unsexy, way too big, white cotton, prison-issued granny panties. No way in hell am I letting him see these suckers. I reach down and push my pants and underwear down at the same time just so that he doesn’t get a chance to spy what they look like.

  “Eager thing, aren’t you?” he purrs.

  I rip my shirt over my head, so that all I have on now is a white sports bra. I rip that off too, letting my girls hang free. I sigh at the feeling of them heavy with need, my nipples aching.

  Rook’s hands come up to cup them, his fingers pinching against my pink nipples. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

  I’m pretty sure I don’t look gorgeous right now, seeing as I still have taser marks on my skin and some major bedhead, but I’m not complaining.

  “Shirt off,” I order him.

  He holds my gaze, his fingers still plucking at my nipples hard enough to make me groan. “I give the orders when we’re fucking, Sunrise.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” I snort. “I’m—”

  My words choke off when Rook suddenly whips off his shirt because, holy fuck, he is ripped. I mean, I knew he worked out. I could tell from his biceps. But I didn’t expect his tanned, beautiful body to look like this. His abs could form their own ice cubes.

  “Come to mama,” I say, dropping down so I can lick my tongue up the groove of his stomach.

  His skin lurches beneath my touch, and he growls as I lick my way up to his nipple. “If you’re gonna be on your knees in front of me, then you’re taking my cock in that unstoppable mouth of yours.”

 
I smirk up at him. Why is he so dominant and perfect? He’s like everything I’ve always wanted in a male. “You mean like this?” I tease before leaning down and licking up the length of him.

  His hands come up to grip my hair. “Fuck yes.”

  I swirl my tongue around his tip, tasting him and loving the way he moans and thrusts his hips toward me, his body begging for more. I wrap my lips around the sensitive end of him and hollow out my cheeks. Rook throws his head back, and that’s when I make my move. I pop off his dick and stand up, pulling him toward me as I lean my naked back against the cold iron of the cell wall.

  “What the hell?” he asks, all sullen like some kid who just had his favorite toy stolen from him.

  I giggle inside.

  “I just decided you haven’t earned one of my epic blow jobs yet,” I tell him, and his disbelieving eyes flash with fire as I throw down some unspoken gauntlet. “In fact, I don’t know if you’ve even earned this pussy yet,” I add.

  He may think he can be all bossy when it comes to the fuckery, but he’s got another thing coming, because I want it all. I want to boss and be bossed, and not every male can handle that. Nothing gets me going like a tug-of-war. I like to play. I like to see who can win. And I want to see what Rook is about before I ride his dick. I want to know if he can handle me the way I need to be handled. I’ve had way too many disappointments in the past, and I don’t want to be disappointed again.

  We stare at each other for a beat. My vagina screams, somebody play with me! And when I see his lips curl, I know he just flashed a challenge accepted my way.

  Alright. Let’s see what you’re made of, Rookie.

  8

  “You want me to what?” Rook asks.

  His face is incredulous, his pants are still around his ankles, and his dick is bopping like a Hanson brother.

  I don’t know whether I feel more amusement in this moment or arousal. I’d say it’s fifty-fifty.

  “It’s no big deal. Just some sex games so I know you’re worthy. We’ll call it Minute to Dick It.”

  He scowls at me. “No, we won’t.”