The questioning look is gone now, replaced with speculation. She’s imagining us, thinking about me and wondering if I’m worth the risk. I’m not. I’ll ruin her life, but I need her to think that I am.
A door closes somewhere behind us and she steps back as if she’s been scorched by my words. The real world, the prison we’re both in, is encroaching on our moment and ruining the charge in the air.
“Workshop starts tomorrow. And Creed, don’t underestimate me.” Her voice is soft and smooth and full of truth.
I am underestimating her, thinking I have her in the palm of my hand, blissfully unaware but she knew. She had my manipulation pegged. Things just got more interesting, I think as she leaves quietly.
John comes back in moments after she’s gone with the forms basically absolving the prison of my injuries. I sign them saying nothing, my thoughts full of Anna Bishop. What was going on in that pretty head? Why wasn’t she afraid of me? She’d seen my scars, the marks on my skin and yet she’d looked angry on my behalf instead of full of pity like all the other women who’d been in my life.
“Eli…”
“John, stop. Let Julian know that everything is fine my end, I just need him to keep working this,” I say firmly. John was one of our best doctors, a real heart of gold but he was worrying over me and I couldn’t stand that. It was suffocating. He nods.
I rub my chin, plotting out my next move. “Tell him I may have a new contact for him too…”
John looks to the door where Officer Bishop stands outside talking to another guard and concern washes over him yet again. But once more he nods and says nothing. He knows his place and it’s to do as he’s told. Julian’s reach is further than the authorities’ suspect, so while I am in here alone I still have friends, people watching out for me and some are in surprising places.
I watch as Anna Bishop finally disappears from sight. I need to adjust my approach it seems. I need to know just how much I can trust her, how badly she wants this. How badly she wants me. There’s a gleam in her eyes when she looks at me and I know she likes to play with fire. She’s not so different from me after all, the uniform she wears is a farce. She’s a bad girl at her core. And I intend to show her that, to reveal her inner self.
Chapter Ten
Anna
Fucking Elijah Creed. Even his name haunts me. I left work in a daze, unable to think straight, unable to focus. One minute I was at Ogmore Grange Prison and the next I was home, stripping off my uniform like it was burning my flesh. I ignore the flashing from my answerphone; it was probably just another message from my father asking me to reconsider my job. Again. Instead I climb in my shower, needing the cold water to bring me to my senses but it doesn’t work. All I see is him. It’s like I’m consumed by him, this dangerous stranger who everyone seems to fear. Christ, even battered and bruised he was still so hot. Like sinfully hot.
Soaping my body I start to caress my breasts, how could a man so evil be like a magnet, drawing me in? My hands roam over my slick skin and I imagine that they’re his hands. How could be so upfront with me? He said he wanted to fuck me and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. I was thinking about it now as my hand slides lower. What was I getting myself into? Those eyes seemed to stare right into my soul, and that hair. God, that fucking hair. I wanted to fist my hands in that hair as I moaned his name against his skin. Elijah Creed was invading my thoughts and I couldn’t control it. I was standing on an edge I never realised existed and I wanted to jump, all in, and take what he was offering me. But I’d be ruining my life if I did. Was anything worth that? Did he really shine that brightly? My fingers work quickly as I remember the scars on his back and my urge to kiss each one. I wanted the man and the monster. I wanted him to own me, but for him to also unravel, spill his secrets to me. My orgasm hits me quickly and is over all too soon. I turn off the water and towel dry myself slowly. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to take whatever Creed offers, there’s no use trying to resist and I’m going to get to the root of what makes him tick.
I crawl into bed and try to calm my racing heartbeat. I was doing this. I was going against how my father raised me to follow my instincts and while I felt afraid, I was also trembling with excitement. I felt like something had been unleashed inside me and I couldn’t describe it. All my life I’ve done what was right, followed in my father’s footsteps, worked on the right side of the law but there has always been something inside that questioned each and every step my life has taken. I wasn’t able to see things as black and white as my father and he had always said that I was too soft, too trusting because the shades of grey made me doubt myself. But Creed shone brightly, a splash of colour in my dull world that made all common sense run away and hide in the shadows. I wanted to lose myself to him. I finally start to drift to sleep, imagining myself inside Monet’s head, swirling colours of blues, greens, reds and purples covering everything.
Chapter Eleven
Creed
Beans has been snoring for the last hour and I’m just about ready to strangle the motherfucker. How can someone so small and scrawny be so bloody loud? Or maybe it’s thoughts of Anna Bishop that have me on edge, restless as I’m torn about what the hell is going on. She looks like butter wouldn’t melt, but melt she fucking did under my touch. In that instant, gone was the good little officer, daughter of a prominent Judge and instead I saw a predator, someone like me. I could see the cogs turning in her head, like she was mapping out what would happen next. I saw hunger, a monster lurking beneath the surface and now I just needed to bring that out. I just hoped I wasn’t going to regret it, because the last thing I needed was for it to go wrong and her to lose her shit when I had nowhere else to run. Both of us stuck here making the other miserable. That would be a nightmare. I needed to feel out the situation more before I escalated things between us, I had to test her. I lay here thinking up a plan until the lights come on, just another day at Ogmore is about to begin... except today I have art.
The art workshop isn’t as dull as I thought it would be and somewhere along the line I actually decided to use the time to draw and not antagonise Bishop, although I’m sure that annoyed her more. I could see the little sighs and huffs she was giving out every time she glanced in my direction, obviously put out that I wasn’t paying her attention. Good, let her stew with her panties in a twist. I used to enjoy art as a child, drawing was something that I was good at but my father deemed it a waste of time and my mother, not wanting to anger him, always took his side. There died my art career, not that it would have ever happened anyway―I was always destined to be in the Mob. Augustine Creed had plans for his son even before I was born, I was simply a pawn to be used to his advantage. That’s why he didn’t like it when I started to rise through the ranks, and when I overtook him he was furious. But his anger couldn’t reach me anymore. Julian was my friend growing up, well as much as a posh boy raised in a private school with a mansion could be. He saw what my life was like and when he came to power after the death of his own harsh father, he made it clear that I answered to no one but him. I’d never picked up another pencil or paintbrush because my father’s lessons still lingered. Until now.
I sit back on my stool and look at the canvas in front of me. In wispy, light pencil lines it’s strikingly clear what I’ve drawn. It is Anna Bishop, naked, arms behind her head with her hair flowing down her back. She’s faceless, but I know it’s her. She’s consuming me, invading every thought I have every time she walks past with that cloud of cherry blossom that clings to her skin.
Standing I get up and go to the cupboard to grab some supplies, it’s time to add some colour to my outline. I find a set of paints and a brush but can’t seem to locate a palette. I’m crouched down looking on the bottom shelves as someone holds one out in my face, the cherry blossoms fill the tiny space and I know it’s her without even looking.
“You’re very quiet Creed. All mouth yesterday and then today you’re like a little mouse.” She’s bait
ing me, I can see it in the gleam in her eyes. She wants me to bite, and I will, just not now. Not here.
“I’m sorry Officer, did you want me to fuck you in front of the class? Make you scream in the presence of everyone?” I smirk at her. “I didn’t have you pegged as an exhibitionist.”
She blushes again, she’s not an exhibitionist but I’m willing to bet in the right circumstances she could be. Just how far would she go for me? How much could I push her?
“That’s not what I meant…” she whispers as she thinks about it. It may not have been what she meant, but now she’s intrigued by the idea. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.
“Yes it is.” I give a small chuckle, “Let’s be honest with each other, well, as much as we can be.”
I don’t know quite why but I want the truth from her; I want her to face her inner demons and understand the monster that exists within. I want to be able to trust her. To trust my instinct that she’s just like me underneath it all.
“Fine. Why haven’t you made a move, a stupid remark or tried anything?”
I stand and tower over her, invading her space. “Because I don’t know if I can trust you and while I’m dying to be inside you, I don’t stick my cock in dangerous places.”
She arches an eyebrow at that, I’m calling her a risk and she can barely believe it. I’m questioning her, me, the criminal with a reputation that they use to scare adults into behaving. It’s like reading a book as I watch everything flit across her face before finally her features settle on determination. She wants to prove herself badly but she wants me even more.
Chapter Twelve
Anna
He doesn’t trust me? He doesn’t trust me. I’m a prison officer crammed into a supply closet with a criminal practically begging him to have sex with me. I’m risking everything and that still isn’t enough for him.
“How?” I ask.
He tilts his head, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth and I resist the urge to just throw myself at him. It’s like my baser instincts take over when he’s near me and I have to stop myself from throwing caution to the wind. I should be conflicted about this, torn even, but I’m not. He feels right.
“How do I get you to trust me?” I clarify.
“I need you to bring me something. From the outside.”
He wants me to smuggle something into the prison for him. Alarm bells are ringing so loudly in my ears that I can feel it all the way down into my toes. I said I was all in but the doubts start to creep in, I’m a prison officer. I’m already compromising myself by being in this closet with him. And no matter how much I tell myself it’s to get dirt on him, to learn about him I know deep down it’s because I can’t resist this odd pull he has.
It’s like he can see my second guessing because his lips brush softly against mine. Let me in, he seems to be saying and I want to. He deepens the kiss, and my insides melt. It’s like we’re made from the same thing and we’re trying to find a way to meld back together in the fire. All of my doubts wash away; I need to do this to gain his trust. I need to gain his trust so I can find out what it is that makes him a monster. What makes him, him. I can’t even explain it properly, I know it’s not rational but it’s like a compulsion. I need to do this.
A cough from somewhere in the room breaks us apart as we remember where we are.
“There’s a bakery in Newtown called Slice of Heaven. Go in and ask for Rosie.” He kisses the tip of my nose as he squeezes past me.
“Whatever you do, don’t look inside just bring it to me. Can you do that?” His face is serious now and I find myself nodding without even pausing to think.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Creed promises with a wink as he leaves the supply closet leaving me in here alone to consider what I’ve just agreed to. How the heck was I going to smuggle whatever it was into prison?
He doesn’t even look at me for the rest of the workshop, he’s focused intently on his painting with such concentration that I don’t want him to notice me because I’m busy enjoying him. Trust is important to him and honesty is a strange value for a fixer in the Mob to have but Elijah is a paradox wrapped in sin. The clock on the wall seems to take forever to move on, each tick dragging out, each tock taunting me. My shift ended after this workshop and apparently I had somewhere to be.
It takes me two hours to get to the bakery and I spent the whole drive worried that it would be closed, but I forgot that this city never sleeps. The relief that floods me when I see that Slice of Heaven is still open isn’t normal. But whatever it is building between us isn’t normal. I shouldn’t be here, I should be reporting him but instead I’m risking everything.
I’ve changed out of my uniform into a pair of jeans, converse and a black jumper. Something comfortable and unlikely to get me singled out. Walking up to the counter with courage I don’t really feel I ask for Rosie. What I don’t expect, is for Rosie to be a beautiful, buxom blonde with big blue eyes and legs up to her armpits. Did Creed send me to his lover? Was this a trick?
“How can I help you?” she asks as she narrows her eyes at me. She stands her hands firmly on her hips. She’s wearing a little red dress, with a white frilly apron and a heart shaped pocket. Red six inch heels complete the look. There’s no way she stands behind a bakery counter all day in those shoes.
“I’m here to pick something up for... a friend…” I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious of the dullness of my brown hair.
She snorts, “If you’re just his friend then you are missing a trick there girl.”
I frown as she pulls me into a booth. She’s gorgeous and I’m seething with jealousy.
“Creed doesn’t do women,” she laughs at the face I pull. “Not like that, I mean he doesn’t use them in his work. He doesn’t let just anyone in which makes you different.”
Rosie sits back and looks speculative for a moment.
“He needs me.” It’s true. He needs a prison officer to smuggle something inside to him. I’m just a convenient choice. An easy mark.
She rolls her eyes, “Honey, he’s probably already running that little shithole of a prison―that’s what he does. He doesn’t need you for that.”
She gives me this strange secret smile.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Take these, give them to him and tell him I say hi.” Her hands dip inside her apron and she hands me three small pink plastic balls under the table, the kind you get inside chocolate eggs that usually hide a tiny toy. What the hell was inside them that was so important?
“I’ll be seeing you around Bishop.” She strokes my cheek with another strange look.
“I didn’t tell you my name…”
“You didn’t have to,” she laughs as she stands and disappears back into the kitchen.
That was the strangest thing that’s happened to me in all my life and I can’t say I hated it. There was something about coming here, the risk of getting caught, the secrecy that had my body on edge, riding an adrenaline wave I didn’t want to come down from. I shove the three balls into my coat pocket and leave, as if the whole thing had never happened.
Chapter Thirteen
Creed
I know she’s done as I asked when I get called into the art workroom the next day. It’s not unusual to be occasionally pulled out of duties by another officer so only the other inmates bat an eyelid as I head out of the maintenance workshop and make my way to Anna Bishop. I can feel their jealousy wash over me as I saunter past them, a giant grin on my face.
She stands as I enter the room, she’s wearing a skirt today instead of trousers. I wonder why, I think to myself with a smile, knowing exactly the reason. There aren’t many ways to smuggle something into prison without getting caught. As an officer she still had to be patted down and walked through a metal detector, she could still be caught. I wonder if the risk got her off?
“Did you get them?” I ask, closing and locking the door be
hind me.
She nods, biting her lip.
I raise an eyebrow, I know I shouldn’t be surprised but a small part of me thought she would chicken out. Being a prison officer and a general goody-two shoes normally meant that morals were unshakable, worn like a badge of honour. Every second we spent together just proved that she was like me, a creature of the shadows.
My voice low, I ask “Where are they?”
“I haven’t, urm... removed them yet,” she says, blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.
God, Anna Bishop was going to be the death of me. Not only had she done as I asked, but she’d waited for my permission to remove the contraband from inside her. This woman was constantly amazing me.
“Allow me,” I murmur with a grin.
Giving her a quick kiss, I wrap my hand around her waist, grab her and lift her onto the desk. Sitting in her chair I push myself between her legs and shove her skirt up around her waist, before pulling her awful tights off and throwing them over my shoulder. The panties come off next, they’re fucking drenched and I have to take a deep breath to calm myself. I pocket them for later. This was all for me.
“Did you peek inside?” I ask, sliding a finger into her wetness.
“Mmmm, no. You told me not to,” she murmurs as my thumb flicks over her clit.
I push the first ball out with a soft pop and she groans as I do. There’s a reason I chose this task and I grin as she arches her back. I bite roughly down on her thigh, the soft creamy flesh tastes sweet under my tongue. She lets out a small squeal which gives way to a moan and as I keep working her clit I free the second ball.
“Undo your shirt,” I demand, standing.
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