by Dee Garcia
As I approach, Mack turns his head toward me and lifts a curious dark brow. “Took you long enough to clock out, Bala.”
I feel my expression morph to mirror his, head jerking back just slightly. Does he need me gone for a specific reason? “The computer kept freezing,” I explain, observing him with a keen eye.
He’s not too close to her, but he’s got her cornered against one of the thick round columns holding up the second floor, which automatically screams red flag to me. There’s no reason for her to be in such a vulnerable position, especially when what transpired minutes ago wasn’t her fault.
She isn’t being hostile, either.
She’s also not the only one in a vulnerable spot. Takes everything in me not to make eye contact with her, when I can feel her stare burning a hole through my forehead.
Mack sighs profoundly and shakes his head. “That means third shift hasn’t been restarting it before we come in for the mornings. My bad, man. I’ll let them know when they get here in a bit.”
“You’re good.” I wave him off. “See you in the morning. Have a good night.”
Closing the small distance to the gate, I swipe my access card through the reader and wait for the telltale buzzer to signal my exit. It doesn’t come, though, the small light on the card reader blinking to a solid red rather than green.
“Your card’s likely not activated yet,” Mack states, stalking over to give me a hand.
I have no choice but to step aside and allow him space, and before I can stop myself—much less process what I’m doing—my gaze flicks her way. She’s still watching me, arms crossed in front of her chest. The very corner of her mouth tilts in a smirk as our stares connect.
Fuck my life.
I didn’t think it could be possible, but she’s even more gorgeous up close. Heart-shaped face, arched brows highlighting sleek, almond-shaped eyes. High cheekbones, a cute little nose, full li—
The buzzer shakes me out of my silent ogle fest, one that was all too obvious given the satisfied expression now etched on her face. And the sexy little wink?
Shit nearly kills me.
“Maybe Rodriguez should walk you down. The other readers might not catch it either. If it’s still not working tomorrow morning, let me know, and we’ll get it sorted before you leave.”
Yeah, I barely heard him, but nod all the same as he turns back toward me. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks, man.”
Mack tips his head cockily, like he’s the man for making sure my key works, and claps me on the shoulder. “Yo, Danny!” he belts out. “I need you to walk Bala out.”
The second his gaze darts across the room, I’m meeting hers again, and there she is… Still. Fucking. Watching me. The scorch of her stare licks up my spine, curling and uncurling my fists. She’s not doing anything other than standing there looking at me, but holy fuck, it’s intense. I’m surprised there aren’t devil horns piercing her scalp or a wispy little pointy tail wagging around behind her.
Last thing I remember thinking before Rodriguez shows up beside us?
How this girl is going to make my job a hell of a lot harder than it already is.
Slam!
The sound of my arrival echoes through my building. I’m not usually that guy, but I’m exhausted. It’s a little over an hour commute from the prison to my apartment, and after my little stare down with Benni, I’m ready to shower and just crawl into bed.
You did it again.
Fuck. Fuck! “Vi-lla-nue-va. Inmate Villanueva,” I remind myself irately as I slip off my shoes and shuffle into the kitchen. “You’re gonna get yourself fired if that slips.”
Yes, I’m talking to myself, okay…because this is ridiculous. Why is “business as usual” such a concept for me right now? I am not a newbie, have never once had an issue addressing inmates and just doing my job as expected by protocol. So, what’s the problem now?
She is, my desires voice, and they’re not wrong. Her fine ass is the whole damn problem. From the minute I caught her looking at me early this morning, I felt the entire frequency of the room change. And that saucy, shameless wink before I left? That kind of look would’ve landed her straight in my bed if the circumstances were different.
Grabbing a Modelo from the fridge, I pop the top off the edge of the laminate counter and take a long pull, hoping to drown this girl out of my mind. Not how this works, I know, but I have to try something. I can’t be going into work every day losing my absolute shi—
Knock, knock!
I freeze at the sound and arch a brow, trying to figure out who’s banging down my door at this hour on a Monday until I remember it’s Monday, which means it’s definitely Kass. She’s my neighbor from three doors down, and Mondays have become Netflix and Chill night as of the last few weeks.
She’s right on time if you ask me. The perfect distraction from my building Benn—FUCK—Villanueva dilemma.
Knocking back another hefty swig, I deposit the cold bottle on the counter and make my way to greet Kass. Soon as I open the door, she’s on me, squealing as I lift her off the floor and slam it shut behind us, pressing her back against the worn wood.
“You’re right on time.” I grin, eyes tracking her tight little frame against mine.
She’s not even trying to hide her intentions at this point, rocking probably the tiniest pajama set known to man. The top alone ensures there will be more chilling than Netflixing, hard nipples pebbled beneath the thin material, inviting me to put them in my mouth.
Locking her arms around my neck, she cocks her blonde head to one side, lips curling dubiously. “Don’t tell me your first day was shitty.”
I shake my head. “Nah, it was just long.”
“Well, I’m sure we can figure out some way to make it better,” she states, tapping the end of my nose.
“Oh, we definitely can. Like I said, you’re right on time.”
Kass smirks devilishly, leafy green irises showing me all the explicit ideas she’s got in mind. “Are you not gonna offer me a drink first?”
“Yeah, c’mon.” I laugh, setting her down on her feet. “What do you want?” My hand whacks across her bubbly ass, earning me another playful squeal as she skitters toward the kitchen.
“You know I’m not picky. Whatever you have that’s gonna fuck me up.”
“This dick.”
Kass chuckles and swats my arm coyly as I amble around her to the fridge. “Not what I meant.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” I counter, retrieving another beer from the fridge. Popping off the top, I pass it over to her and watch as she lifts the bottle to her bee-stung lips, taking an impressive sip.
“And that’s why I keep coming back for more.”
“So, you’re not here for the Netflix.” A joke obviously; we know that answer. But she shakes her head playfully regardless, downing another sip.
“Not even a little bit.”
Closing the distance between us, I lift her onto the counter and wedge my way between her legs, palms splaying against her thighs. The shorts might just be tighter than the top,
“In that case, why don’t you finish up that beer, and we’ll skip Netflix tonight.”
Kass’s response? To start chugging, lips curling deviously against the rim as the beer slides down her throat.
It’s on.
With her head tipped back like this, I go in for the kill, start my way up her neck with my tongue and yank the low neckline of her tank top in my fist, freeing her tits. They’re fake, but they’re still nice as fuck—one of her best features if I’m being honest. My grip is far from gentle as I grab a handful and nip at her earlobe, squeezing, kneading, my thumb assaulting her nipple. The other hand’s already creeping beneath the thin fabric of her shorts, shorts I quickly discover she’s wearing without panties.
That first knuckle through her smooth lips leaves her nearly choking around an appreciative moan, the abrupt clink of her bottle on the counter breaking the silence.
“No panties,
soft little pussy. You really came here to get fucked, didn’t you?” I ask, grinning as she wipes the excess beer from her mouth.
“Are you really surprised, though? We’ve been on this Monday fuck fest kick for a few weeks now. Best way to start the week if you ask me.”
Except this would be one of the last times I felt the same. In just weeks, I’d be so caught up in my Benita Adriana Villanueva dilemma, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
♫ Get You Some - Captain Planet & Brit Lauren
“Benni, wake the fuck up, coño.” Selena’s raspy morning voice brings me to. “They’re gonna call count in like five.”
I don’t know how I manage to do it, but I crack my heavy eyelids open and immediately regret the decision when the bright fluorescent lights nearly burn through my retinas. Hissing like a fucking vampire, I squeeze them shut again and force myself up onto an elbow, rubbing at my eyes furiously. “How is it morning already?”
Lena chuckles and jumps down from her bunk, going about the motions of straightening out her sheets. “Bad night?”
“Yeah,” I scoff, mostly at myself. “Something like that.”
Bad is only an understatement. I laid there for hours after the lights went out, tossing and turning over and over again. I couldn’t get comfortable. Couldn’t drift off.
Why, you ask?
CO Bala, that’s why.
His face was seared in my mind, taunting me with hyper-realistic images of scenarios that can never—and will never—happen.
The way he looks at me… I’ve seen that look before and know all too well what it means.
“Think the new hottie has first shift today?” Lena asks, shooting my shoulders up to my ears.
It’s like she was reading my mind.
“Probably. He’s still training. You know they make them pull twelve hours plus the first week.” I sound indifferent—which is exactly what I was going for—but on the inside, I’m hoping he’s not, praying like all hell that he’ll miraculously be third shift, so I don’t have to relive yesterday.
I can’t afford to.
Though subtle and silent, exchanging those heated looks with Bala is a dangerous, dangerous game, and four years of dick-deprivation has me giving in to temptation faster than a bitch in heat. I’ve always knocked hoes who get involved with CO’s, but I kinda get it now if a mere look is all it takes to spark a flame. He smiles at me like that again, and I’m so fucked.
Que Dios me ampare. My God help me…
Once Selena’s got her bed made up perfectly, she yanks me onto my feet and goes about doing the same to mine. “Get dressed, puta. They call us out and see you’re not ready, you know what’s gonna happen.”
I nod. Depending on who’s running count for job assignments, either a shot or I’ll get sent straight to the hole. They’ll write it off as me refusing to go to work, too, and I won’t get a single say in it, ‘cause you know, it’s their word over ours. Always.
My eyes almost roll free from their sockets. Sighing at yet another day of this bullshit, I rip off my sleep shirt and throw on my uniform, tossing my hair in a messy bun.
And to think I still have another three years to go.
Despite everything I’ve done to stay in line and earn my good behavior stripes, nothing seems to be enough to get me out of here early. I’ve had three shots, if that, and have only been to Seg once. I do my job and stay in my fucking lane, but nothing is ever good enough.
Or maybe it’s just me ‘cause Lena’s currently shaking her head at me in disgust. “Oh, no. I’m not letting you go out there like that.”
I don’t even need to say what the fuck out loud. It’s written all over my face. “Like what?”
She motions up and down my body, emphasizing my head most. “Like, you’re not even trying…”
Trying for? “What am I supposed to be trying for again?”
“Ayyy, please.” She smirks, arching a dark brow. “You gonna make me call you out again like yesterday at lunch?”
Yesterday at lu—
Oh. She’s talking about Bala.
“There’s nothing to call out. Like I told you: we looked at each other—so what?” I shrug it off like it’s nothing at all, but she’s not having it, lips pursing to relay as much.
“That’s not a regular look, and you know it. He was staring at you, B—hard.”
I wave her off. “He’s not the first, and he won’t be the last.”
Not a complete lie. Some of the COs that have come in and out of here are absolute pigs. Mack is one of them. I can’t tell you how many times that comepinga has told me he wants to fuck my tight little Latina pussy.
His words, not mine.
Her lips purse harder, dark curly head falling to one side. “You’re really gonna stand there and pretend like you wouldn’t fuck him if the opportunity presented itself?”
“I don’t need to pretend, Lena. The opportunity is not going to present itself and—
The telltale muted chime of the PA halts the words off the tip of my tongue, snapping my eyes up to the speaker. “Good morning, ladies,” CO Walker’s gentle, yet commanding voice rings out. “You know the routine. If you’re on work release or job assignments, line up at the east wall. The rest of you, find something to do until chow call, and let’s try not to have a repeat of last night while we’re at it.”
Three seconds later, that obnoxious-ass buzzer alerts us the doors are open, prompting Lena and me to quickly slip on our shoes and head out. We have to. We’re expected to be out there in under a minute. Anything more screams suspect to them and demands a CO's attention.
I’ve got one foot out the door when I feel the bun on my head collapse, the long tresses of my hair spilling around my face and down my back.
“Told you, I wasn’t letting you come out here like that,” Selena whispers in my ear. “Now run your fingers through it. He’s right there, and I’m willing to bet he’s about to look at you in three… Two…”
Sure enough, the second I rush to fix the mess she just unleashed, I see him near the box, those deep brown eyes of his sliding right on my form.
My heart slams just once, but it rattles my entire chest no less, stealing my breath, flipping my stomach wildly.
The fuck is wrong with me? Since when am I into uniforms?
“Told you,” she snickers as we fall into line for work. “Girl, you better drag that man to the south-side bathroom and let him have his way. I mean, look at him. He has to be a great fuck.”
Yeah, he probably is.
He looks even better today. Not sure how when there’s nothing noticeably different. He’s wearing the exact same uniform, his dark, short hair styled the very same. Maybe it’s his posture? He seems more at ease and completely sure of himself, hands clasped before him casually as he drags his stare away from me to continue sweeping around the room.
I feel the loss immediately like someone’s thrown a bucket of water on the flame licking within the tight confines of my belly, but it’s also the first time since stepping out here that I’m able to fill my lungs with air. I’d literally stopped breathing at the force of his gaze, holding my breath—just waiting and watching.
“It should be illegal to be that good-looking,” Lena continues, eyeing him appreciatively.
Him? A bad boy? I nearly laugh out loud. He doesn’t exactly scream the boy next door, but he’s definitely no Áng—
Nope.
NOPE.
Not going there. Four years later, and that heartless, selfish bastard still has the power to cross my mind. I shut it down every time and remind myself that I’m in here because of him, despite what he told me the day he came to visit. He doesn’t deserve a place in any of my thoughts. Shit, I know I don’t have one in his. I have no doubt he’s forgotten all about me by now.
“Don’t do that to him. Orange doesn’t look like his color,” I quip, banishing him from my thoughts while still staring at Bala like some lovesick teenager just discovering the opp
osite sex.
Selena hums and gives me a little shake of her head. “The only color you need to worry about is all that delicious caramel he’s hiding beneath that uniform.”
Fuck.
My.
Life.
The vision her words spur on? Ay, Papá Dios en el cielito, ayudame. Dear God in Heaven, help me. All I can see is me ripping that tight-ass navy shirt right down the middle, buttons popping off and clattering to the dirty bathroom floor... My hands running down his torso.
To his belt.
“All right, ladies.” Walker’s voice cuts through my very obscene musing, hushed conversations resounding in the background. “As always, when your name is called, line up accordingly. CO Jordan is escorting those of you on work release. Job assignments are with me and CO Bala.”
Just the sound of his last name wrings my insides. Knowing he’s assisting with job assignments, though? That tiny little fact puts me right on the edge.
Why?
Because we line up alphabetically by last names and I’m always last, which means that, considering he’s still training, he’s definitely not leading the line. Walker’s going to throw him in the back, rightbefuckinghind me.
And that’s exactly how it goes down.
Less than five minutes later, we’re on the move, trailing the Annex halls to drop everyone off at their pointed assignments. All the while, I can feel the silent perusal of his stare every few moments. They’re like lasers searing a perfect trail along my skin, rousing me to peek back at him.
Do it. You know you want to.
Damn those little voices in my head, always making me do things I shouldn’t be doing.
As subtle as possible, I let my hair fall over my shoulder and peer at him from my peripheral. What I see is not at all what I expected.
He’s staring at my ass.
Yeah, you read that right.
The man is a good three feet away from me, his stride perfectly in time with the rest of the line. But his eyes? They’re watching my ass jiggle with each step I take.
My cheeks heat, but I’m blasted with a sense of confidence I haven’t felt in a long time. Don’t get it twisted: I’m confident, but this rush right here, that heat you feel ignite in your veins because of a man?
