by Dee Garcia
Her response pops up less than a minute later.
Benni: I’m fine, I just can’t sleep. I’m wired for some reason.
Shit, so am I. My head’s still fuzzy, swimming with the last of the beer/tequila combo I ingested, but I’m awake no less, and I’m definitely not going back to sleep any time soon.
Me: Give me five minutes. I’m gonna take a quick shower.
Benni: Lol, okay.
Locking the screen, I set my phone down beside the sink and hop inside the tub. The scalding water is exactly what I need, soothing the haziness of my mind as the spray pelts the top of my head. I stand there motionless for a minute or two and just close my eyes, trying my damnedest not to think about anything. I don’t want to think about Benni, don’t wanna think about Kass, don’t want to analyze any more of either situation.
And I don’t.
The moment any of those thoughts so much as flicker, I’m shaking it off, focusing on going through the motions of a normal shower—scrubbing my hair, lathering my body. It’s short-lived, though, because the second I’m drying off, the first thing I think of is to check on Kass.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I open the door that leads out into the hallway and poke my head out. I can see the couch from here, but she’s not there, prompting me out of the bathroom. I don’t make it past the kitchen when I catch a small piece of paper and a pen left on the counter from the corner of my eye.
So we passed out, lol. Hard. You can blame the tequila for that. :P Anyway, I heard the shower turn on and decided to show myself out. I need one of those too. Thanks for another great night.
See you around. ;)
Xoxo, Kass
Well, that’s one problem solved, or so you could say. Not even slightly offended I left her to wash her scent off of me before hopping in bed to talk to another chick. She doesn’t know that tiny little detail, obviously, but from past experiences, I’ve learned that females tend to get clingy once you let them stay the night.
Then again, I didn’t let her.
It just happened.
Kind of unfair I assumed otherwise at all when Kass has been easygoing and straight up from the get-go. All she wanted was some steady dick without the commitment, an offer I couldn’t refuse when I was new to the area and stoked to have a hot-ass neighbor just a few doors down.
Funny how quick shit can change.
Balling up her note, I free-throw it into the trash by the pantry about ten feet away and make my way back to the bathroom for my phone, rivulets of water still dripping down my chest.
It’s right about then the idea strikes, quirking the very corners of my mouth.
Me: You still got the headset I gave you?
That’s the text I send as I saunter into my bedroom and switch on the lamp perched on my nightstand.
Benni: Yeah… Why?
My lips curl all the more, fingers typing out my response at lightning speed.
Preparate, mami.
Me: Plug it in.
Benni: Why?
Me: Lol, just do it.
I don’t get a reply until I’m grabbing the earbuds from inside the nightstand’s drawer and connecting them to the Bluetooth on my phone.
Benni: Okay, I did it. They’re in.
And now it’s on.
Catching her off-guard is going to be the best part of it all. She wanted to see me, right? Says she felt like she didn’t see me enough yesterday. Well, we’re about to rectify that.
Popping my earbuds in place, I click her contact icon at the top of the screen and hit the option I’m looking for, running a hand through my still-wet hair as the FaceTime screen enlarges and the line starts ringing in my ears. I can just imagine her lying there in shock right now, which is likely what's happening since it takes several rings before my impromptu video call finally connects. I can barely see her, only what the light of her screen illuminates, but my heart jackhammers at the sight of her regardless.
Head resting against her arm, she smiles coyly and whispers, “I don’t think you thought this through.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask quietly, setting my phone on top of the dresser as I go about pulling out fresh briefs and a pair of black basketball shorts.
“I can’t exactly just talk.” Her laugh comes equally as quiet, voice more a sultry murmur than a whisper.
I didn’t think she could be any sexier, but goddammit, she sounds sexy as fuck over the phone. “I can hear you just fine. So tell me, what’s got you up?”
I’m assuming she shrugs based on how the screen shakes a bit. “I don’t know. I had a hard time falling asleep. I didn’t really stay asleep, to be honest. Just kinda been in and out since I texted you that I was gonna crash.”
“My bad for not responding. I walked in the door and face-planted onto my bed.” You fucking liar, my conscience screams as I drop the towel and pull on my briefs, an action she’s attentively following despite only being able to see from the waist up.
“Ah, that explains the awkwardly timed shower. Nice tat, by the way. I didn’t think you had any ink.”
It’s my only one, a tribal piece that spans my left pec, my shoulder, and all of my bicep.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover, bebé. And hey, might as well get it over with so I can talk to you for a bit. I have to be up in a couple hours anyway.”
“You don’t have to. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just—”
“If you didn’t mean to wake me, you wouldn’t have texted me,” I counter, yanking up my basketball shorts and reclaiming the phone off the dresser.
The verity of my reply has Benni biting down her bottom lip as I’m striding to my bed. I’m almost positive I can just make out a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “You got me.”
“Not yet, I don’t, but I want you.” Falling on top of the sheets, I make myself comfortable and tuck an arm behind my head, grinning when she fails to subdue another smile.
“Balls still in your court, you know.”
Yeah, I know.
“I told you—spur of the moment. I’m waiting for the right time.”
“Newsflash, chulo, I’m in prison. There’s never going to be a right time for shit that isn’t supposed to happen in the first place. You’re just gonna have to go for it and pray it works out.”
How it hadn’t dawned on me until right then, I don’t know, but there it is, slapping me in the face, drowning the line in silence. She’s right, unfortunately. There’s never going to be the right time for us while she’s in there—when we’re not supposed to be an us, to begin with.
Once, just once. I just need to taste her one time, and I’ll be good.
Is that train of thought still a heaping load of crap? Definitely.
But I’ll never get to test the theory if I don’t suit up and make a move.
♫ Self Control - Bebe Rexha
When Walker calls me into line later that morning, and I have to slide in between Yanet—she’s fresh meat—and Andrés, I also have to physically force myself from jumping him right then and there, have to pretend he doesn’t exist. Way easier said than done after his unexpected FaceTime a few hours prior. The imagery of him freshly showered and deliciously naked—even him in his bed—is permanently seared into my mind, hanging right there in the limelight of my thoughts.
Now, he’s got me thinking of all the ways I can get him back. I can’t just FaceTime him and take him into the shower with me or cut the lights on a strip down to nothing. I’m gonna have to get creative—something that’s proving to be difficult when my brain is refusing to focus on anything that isn’t his body.
God, that was sweet torture to watch. Sweet, sweet torture. Like...I didn’t even see all of him, and I know he’s not the snack I initially thought he was—he’s the whole damn meal—and I’m officially starving now, mentally salivating for the tiniest taste.
Fuck with him, tease him, drive him crazy.
Ah, there it is—that little voice that fuels bad Benni and all
of her genius decisions. Teasing him is all I’ve got really, and considering how we try not to interact while he’s on the clock, he wouldn’t expect it. Perhaps if I tease him enough, he’ll finally snap and take that spur-of-the-moment chance we were talking about.
My lips curl mischievously, eyes cutting down to the hair tie around my wrist.
Classic.
He wants to play? All right, chulo, let’s play.
That hair tie? It magically ends up on the floor. “Shit!” I hiss, bending over to pick it back up.
Andrés didn’t see it coming, doesn’t have time to react or sidestep. He runs right into me, and I mean right into me. I can feel him through my uniform, eyes widening as one of his hands falls instinctively to my hip.
He’s fucking packing, holy shit.
“Fuck, Villanueva, what the hell?” he growls irately.
But his grip says something completely different, the pads of his fingers digging into me as I peek up at him from over my shoulder.
“My bad, Bala.” Licking my lips slowly, I give him a leisurely once-over, imagining this very same position without all these layers of clothes. “I dropped my scrunchie.”
He looks like he both wants to kill me and fuck me senseless, earning him a knowing smirk.
How’s it feel, huh?
Poor guy is trying so hard not to smile, visibly chewing on the inside of his cheeks. Takes him a beat, but eventually, he squeezes me one last time and shakes his head. “Right. Well, next time, maybe keep the scrunchie on your wrist while we’re in line. C’mon, let’s go.”
“What if it’s in my hair,” I toss back, lips thinning in amusement as he gives me the side-eye and motions for me to go first.
“Then keep it in your hair.”
“But what if—”
“Just keep moving.” He sneaks in a soft tap to my ass. “And follow my lead.”
Follow his lead? “What are you—”
“Shhh.” Another tap effectively silences me. “Put on that malita mask of yours and act normal.”
My bad girl mask, he said.
Okay…? I’m curious as all hell but decide to just keep my mouth shut and observe. My head’s spinning with the possibilities as I fall into line behind Yanet, noting we’re almost at the laundry room.
What does this man have planned up his sleeve? Where? I’ve walked these halls hundreds of times. There isn’t anywhere to hide that’s not in the camera’s view.
Am I missing something?
Evidently so because right when we all hug the corner toward laundry, Andrés tugs on my shirt for me to stop and waits until Walker’s nearly at the entry before he calls out, “Hey, Walker!”
The CO stops immediately—halting the rest of the line in the process—and pivots to acknowledge us. Most of the heads in front of me do the same, questioning glances and curious stares all honed in on me.
“Everything okay back there?” Walker returns.
“I need to take Villanueva back to the cellblock for a minute. She, um—it appears she needs to change her uniform,” Andrés explains.
“Oh shit, she got her period.”
“Damn, that fucking blows.”
“Good thing it’s laundry day, Birdy.”
Those are some of the comments that pop up after Andrés’ expert-level lie. I’m impressed honestly, mentally chuckling as Walker shushes the girls and nods in understanding. Guess he’s not all good boy, huh?
“You know the way by now, right? Just bring her down once she’s gotten it sorted.”
“Yes, sir.” Andrés tips his head dutifully. “C’mon, Villanueva, let's make this quick.” His warm hand curls around my arm like the day he was escorting me to Judge’s office.
Now it’s me who’s trying not to laugh, biting my tongue as we start back the way we came. I peer up at him through my peripheral, noting the hard lines of his handsome face as he holds his chin high, authoritatively. Personally, I think it’s the cutest thing when he calls me Villanueva. He’s so caught up in his role, the big, bad CO booming his commands at the sad little inmate.
It’s kinda hot, too. All I’m saying is I wouldn’t mind him cuffing me while he has his way.
“So, my period?” I quip once we’re out of earshot and rounding the corner. “That’s a good one. Wanna tell me where we’re going, though?”
“I don’t need to. We’re already here.”
Next thing I know, we’re stopping at the most random door. It’s old in comparison to all the other upgrades of the prison. I’ve seen it before; I just don’t know what’s behind it. Andrés surprises me all the more by swiftly pulling out his keys. And I don’t mean the card kind, either—I mean actual keys.
How the hell did he get a key? Why?
Shoving the key into the lock, he glances down both ends of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, and then he’s storming his way inside, yanking me in right behind him and quietly shutting the door. I don’t get to so much as blink before I find myself pushed up against it, the click of the lock briefly disrupting the silence of the small space. It’s an old janitorial closet from a quick scan ‘cause that’s all I get.
The look in his eyes right now… It’s that look—the one that sears me in entirety and jacks up my heart rate to a dangerous level.
Better known as trouble.
“Finally.” His hands fall flat to the dingy blue wall on either side of me, head dipping low to level with my stare. “I couldn’t wait anymore, not when I realized you were right. The time is never going to be right. I just need to do it, need to take what I want. One minute to taste those lips, that’s it. You still down with that?”
Why is this even a question? “A minute goes by pretty quick.”
Nodding, he scoops my face in his hands, licking his lips as he eyes my own. “Should I get on with it then?”
“Please,” I whisper, trying—and miserably failing—to brace myself for impact.
But nothing could have prepared me. Absolutely nothing.
There’s a tenderness to his kiss. It’s in the way he moves, how he touches me, but it’s so damned heated, brimming with deprivation and want so fierce, I feel its warmth scorch me to my core. My entire body comes to life, stomach flipping wildly at the feel of his lips on mine. I latch onto his wrists and just...melt into him, relishing the feeling of being kissed again.
So good. It feels so good.
I’ve missed this. To be wanted like this, needed like this.
The softest moan reverberates from deep within my throat, spurring Andrés to go harder, to take it up a notch. His tongue comes out to play, licking sensuously into my mouth as his palms fly to my hips, luring me closer to his hard body.
“Why do you have to be in here?” he asks between kisses.
“Because I was stupid”—kiss—“Don’t be like me, okay?”
“I just want you, that’s all, and I can’t fucking have you.” He says it like somewhere deep down inside of him it hurts.
And that’s the thing—it does. Because I can’t have him, either.
“You have me right now, don’t you?”
Another kiss, another lick into my mouth as he lifts me off my feet and digs me into the tiles, shaking his head. “Not enough. It’s not enough, Benni. I want you all the time.”
“I can’t give you that.” Not for a long time. “I wish I could.”
And that’s when it hits me, hard.
Just like Ángel was toxic for me, I’m toxic for Andrés. He shouldn’t want anything with me. At the end of the day, he is a good guy, and what am I?
A criminal—someone who’s made awful choices and only cared about the consequences when it was too late. Do I plan to come back to prison once I’ve served my time? Fuck no. I’ll be doing everything in my power to complete the reform and stay out of trouble. I can't come back here again. I’ll lose it entirely.
But even with the reform, I still won’t be what he deserves.
“Be glad it’s this way,” I add, p
utting everything I’ve got into this kiss to soften the sudden blow. “You’re too good for me, Andrés. You deserve someone so much better.”
“Fuck all that, Benni.” He’s not relenting, meeting every swipe of my lips tit for tat, lifting me off my feet. “I don’t feel this with anyone else. Only you. There’s no one like you.”
God, those words... I have to squeeze my eyes shut and shake away the emotional tidal wave they threaten to bring on as my body locks in his grip. The memory gets me, though, sucking me back into the past for a brief moment...
“Muévelo, Enrique.” I flip the phone around to provide him a view of the screen, my fingers strategically placed over the active call symbol. “Time is ticking.”
He must’ve thought I was joking about the timer because that gets him moving, shuffling through his home with rushed, heavy steps. I’m listening in great amusement as he speeds from room to room when my phone buzzes.
Papi: My dick is hard af listening to you right now…
Eyes rolling playfully, the very corners of my lips quiver. “Two minutes!” I yell to Enrique, pulling Ángel’s message down for a quick reply.
Me: I’ll take care of it once I’m done here.
Papi: That right there is exactly why I want you, mami. No hay nadie como tu.
There’s no one like you.
Andrés’ confused “What?” brings me back to the here and now, vision refocusing on his cinched expression.
“Remember almost-ex?” I swallow, damning Ángel to an eternity in hell.
Andrés nods, expression cinching tighter.
“He used to tell me that.” I scoff softly and shake my head. “You said it, and it just kinda...triggered.”
Shit, triggered is putting it lightly, obviously. I just zoned out and took a trip down memory lane in another man’s arms. I’m expecting for Andres to set me down now that I’ve killed the mood, but he doesn’t. He tightens his hold on me instead, brushing our lips together as he holds my stare.
