Slammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  I turned to shut the door, making sure to lock the deadbolt, but before I turned back around, a hand landed over my mouth, trapping my scream.

  “Shhh…” a deep voice hushed me.

  The hand lifted from my lips and I turned, finding X standing there.

  He was really there, standing in my apartment. I’d missed him so much. It had taken everything I had not to go to him on visitation day, but I’d promised and I didn’t want to break a promise to him. No matter how badly I missed him.

  For weeks, I’d gone back and forth with the lawyers, trying to get his case going, but it was like no one cared but me. It was aggravating and annoying, and I hated feeling helpless.

  His dark blue eyes moved over my face, taking me in inch by inch, and relief coursed through my veins. Having him close to me felt amazing.

  I threw myself into him without hesitation. He wrapped me in his thick arms, pulling me into his large chest and making me feel safer than I had in a long time.

  He massaged my cheek with his thumb, touching me everywhere and nowhere all at once. And then reality set in, and I knew something wasn’t right.

  I pulled away, and he looked down at me longingly. “You’re here. How are you here right now?” I asked.

  “I had to, Lyla. I did it for you.”

  “Wait, what did you do, Christopher?” Panic rushed down my spine.

  “I escaped.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. How? Fulton had COs posted everywhere, and everything ran like clockwork.

  He pulled me to him again, my face burrowed into his chest. “I had to, Lyla. You’re not safe. I had to make sure you were safe.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m so confused right now.” I was beyond happy to see him, but the pieces weren’t fitting together.

  “The green-light was extended past the prison walls. Whoever they are, they want you dead no matter what.”

  Cold struck me deep, moving through my veins and freezing me from within.

  “I don’t care what I have to do, I’ll keep you safe. I’ve already lost one person; I can’t lose you, too.”

  Cupping his cheek in my hand, I ran my thumb beneath his eyes and enjoyed the feel of him. “What do you mean? Who did you lose?”

  His expression dropped and sadness filled his eyes. “Scoop. He hung himself.

  “Why would he do that?” I whispered, my mind going back to the happy-go-lucky guy I remembered.

  “Jose. He and his gang held me down and raped him in front of me. He wasn’t the same after that.”

  His voice trailed off, and I could hear a twinge of sadness and guilt in it. It tore my soul to pieces. I pulled his face to mine and made him look into my eyes.

  “Christopher, it wasn’t your fault.” I watched his face darken, and I couldn’t bear it anymore.

  I ran my finger across the arch of his brow and down his rugged jaw line. His teeth clenched beneath my touch, making his jaw muscle pop against my fingertip. His eyes softened and he closed them gently, turning his face into my palm.

  When he opened them, strong emotions swirled in the depth of his blue irises, consuming my soul and pulling me under with him. Calloused fingers slipped around my waist beneath my shirt, and chills lifted my skin. I moaned when his lips found mine, sucking and tasting. It was slow and erotic, temptation at its finest.

  He kissed me tenderly, his hands moving up and down my back beneath my shirt, until he finally lifted it, breaking our kiss to pull my top over my head. He tossed it to the floor, and his eyes moved over my flesh like it was the first time he’d ever seen a naked woman.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he said as his finger whispered across my cleavage.

  Leaning down, he pressed heated kisses along the side of my neck, working his way down to just above my bra. He sucked softly at the flesh billowing over the top of my C cups, and his fingers worked deftly at the latches on the back. Once he freed me completely, he moved lower, sucking my nipple between his lips and lavishing it will gently licks.

  I panted loudly, pressing my palms into the back of his head to hold him to me. His mouth felt amazing, feeding on my body like I was a delicious morsel and pushing me to the brink of madness.

  Things picked up. His kisses became more hurried, our passion a flurry of hands and mouths. Clothes fell to the floor as we uncovered each other like we’d never been able to before. Our eyes moved over each other’s bodies, taking in every dip and curve. I’d never felt more beautiful in my life. The way Christopher looked at me—it was as though he was worshipping me. And when he dropped to his knees in front of me, pushed my panties to the side, and buried his face into my wet heat, he did exactly that. He worshiped me.

  My hands roamed across his head, his wide, muscled shoulders, and anything I could reach, feeling his naked skin in a way I never got a chance to before. The sounds of my wetness and him tasting it filled my living room, followed by my loud moans. It was erotic before when we had to be quiet. I enjoyed the feel of his hand over my mouth, holding in my pleasured noises, but this was different. Hearing myself was turning me on even more.

  Finally, I crumbled. My knees weakened and my back fell against the door, keeping me from falling to the floor. He continued, licking and sucking my juices as they flowed from my body until I was shaking and begging him to stop.

  I slumped against the door as he licked his way back up my body. Once we were face to face, he kissed me hard, filling my mouth with my own personal flavor, and lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist.

  “Bed,” he growled against my lips, making me chuckle.

  I pointed in the direction of my bedroom and held on tightly around his neck while he walked us through my apartment to my bedroom. My mattress creaked under me when he tossed me to the bed, and then I stared at him openly as he peeled his pants from his body and stood before me completely naked.

  He was magnificent. Tall and lean. Dark and sexy. His cock stood tall for me, letting me know how badly he wanted me, and I moved toward him. My knees dug into the mattress when I went to him. He stood still, letting me kiss him everywhere, sucking on his hot skin and marking him as mine.

  He bit into his bottom lip and tangled his fingers in my hair. “Lyla.” His voice broke.

  I moved lower, licking him from his navel to his pelvic bone. He growled in pleasure, his fingers tightening in my hair and tugging. The tip of his cock glistened, his want for me already spilling from his body. I licked at the salty goodness, making his body go tense, and then I wrapped my lips around him, pulling him into my mouth and releasing him with a loud pop.

  “Fuck, Lyla.” He let his head fall back, and his mouth fell open in pleasure.

  It made me feel good to make him feel good. So I sucked him hard, the head of his cock rubbing the back of my throat. His fingers pressed into the back of my head as he thrust his hips to get deeper.

  His salty flavor coated my tongue, and my mouth watered for more. He swelled in my mouth, filling it to the brink, but before I could suck at him again, he tugged my hair roughly, pulling my mouth away from him.

  “I can’t, baby. It’s been too long. If you don’t stop, I’ll unload before I even get to feel you.”

  He pushed me back on the bed, and my eyes took in his chiseled body as he crawled across the bed toward me. He was all predator, stalking his prey and readying himself to eat me alive. I wanted him to devour me, to take every bit of me into his mouth and leave me torn and destroyed. His eyes flashed with excitement, and I knew he felt the same way.

  His mouth found mine, and I lost myself in his kiss. His tongue teased me, playing in my mouth and making me crazy. I lifted my hips, rubbing myself against his hardness and silently wishing he’d rip my panties from my body. They were the only thing left between us, and I wanted them gone.

  His hand teased my neck, working down my body until his hand was full of my breast. His finger moved over my nipple, sending raw sensations through my core. As he teased my erect flesh, his
mouth moved over mine, catching my moans and swallowing them.

  Breaking our kiss, his moved to my neck, driving me crazy. Again, I lifted my hips, rubbing myself against him.

  “Please, baby, give it to me,” I begged.

  “That’s right. Beg me for it. I fucking love it when you beg.”

  His hand slid down my body, his fingertips skimming the inside of my thigh, and my breathing accelerated.

  “Yes. Please touch me.” My voice cracked like a woman in need. I didn’t sound like myself. I sounded weak and wanting. That was what he did to me. He weakened me so completely, and it felt good to let go of control.

  “Here?” he asked, his finger dipping into the side of my panties and running along just the outside of my center.

  Again, I thrust my hips. He was so close to the point of insanity—the part of me that throbbed for him—and I wanted to cry from wanting him so badly.

  I cried out when his finger penetrated me. Bending it at the knuckle, he rubbed my inner walls before pulling it out with a wet pop and thrusting it in again.

  “Did you miss me, Lyla?” he asked in a husky voice.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “Did you miss this?” he asked, adding a second finger and reaching for my soft spot within.

  I cried out louder. “Yes. God, yes, I missed everything.”

  His fingers worked me until I was close to breaking, and then they were gone. He tugged at the soaked scrap of fabric between my legs, and it gave with a loud snap. Moving between my thighs, he grasped his hard cock in his palm. He pumped it, rubbing the wet tip against my swollen nub.

  My leg stretched around his hard waist, and he lifted it, lining himself up with my center. With one quick thrust, he entered me, hard and fast, filling me so deeply that I didn’t know where he started and where I ended.

  Again, I cried out, the sensation so pleasing that my eyes rolled back in my head. A gentle smile crept across his face as he lifted my leg high and slid even deeper.

  “That’s feels so fucking good, Christopher,” I said loudly, enjoying the feel of being able to express myself.

  He moved, pounding his rigid flesh into me fast and hard. “Say my name again,” he demanded.

  “Christopher,” I moaned.

  “Louder!” he growled, his body picking up the pace and slamming into me.

  The room filled with the sounds of our sex. Our bodies coming together so roughly that our skin echoed off each other. His musty scent filled my nostrils, mixed with the sweat of our lovemaking and the moisture of our bodies. It was potent… strong just like his thrusts.

  “Christopher,” I screamed. My orgasm climbed up my skin, making me go tense.

  “This is mine,” he grunted. “You’re mine.” With each word, he thrust deeper and deeper into me, pulling loud groans of pleasure from my lips.

  My fingers twisted into the blanket at my side as I braced myself for the onslaught of pleasure that was teetering on the edge.

  And then I shattered.

  He pumped me, pulling my orgasm out of me loudly. The slide of his body in mine slickened as my inner muscles tightened around him, holding him inside me. My legs cramped and my toes curled into the mattress.

  He didn’t stop. Reaching under my shoulders, his fingers tangled into the hair on the back of my head, putting his chest flat against my own. His hips bucked, the only part of his body that was still moving, and he pushed me directly into another fall.

  My cries filled the room as I begged. Happy tears sprang to my eyes, rolling down the sides of my face and escaping into my hairline.

  He panted against my lips, trying to kiss me but not having enough breath to do so.

  His body going rigid, he came long and hard, his growl of pleasure filling my room and vibrating against my chest. Resting his forehead against my shoulder, his hot breath bathed my skin.

  His weight lifted from me, and he fell to my side, pulling me into his arms. He pushed my sweat-soaked hair from my face and planted a soft kiss against my cheek. “I love you so much, Lyla,” he whispered, brushing another curl from my face.

  His eyes devoured mine, making me his own personal prisoner. His tenderness was different this time. It wasn’t raw and untapped passion. It was gentle, timid, and reassuring.

  Palming his cheek, my finger glided along the stubble on his jaw. “I love you, too, Christopher.”

  And I did. So much. It was unexpected. I hadn’t walked into Fulton knowing I’d fall in love with an inmate, but I had. Now I was lying in bed with him, knowing he was an escaped convict, but also knowing with all my heart that he was innocent of everything but loving me.

  He reached behind him and grabbed my blanket, covering us and enveloping me in the warmth of his body. I’d never felt more safe. I’d never felt more loved.

  I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, knowing that things were about to change for me. Knowing that I’d do whatever it took to keep him, even if I had to run away with him.

  CHAPTER 27

  x

  THE SUN SLID through the blinds, cutting the room into lines of light. That was what life was when I was with Lyla… light. Everything glowed. Everything was brandished in happiness. It made me sad to think that once I knew she was safe, I’d have to return to Fulton.

  I wasn’t a runner, and even though I knew it was going to kill me to leave Lyla, I had to go back. I had to face my responsibilities. Escaping meant there was probably no way I was going to get off, even if they did find me innocent. But after spending time with Lyla outside the cinderblock walls, facing life in prison seemed so much harder than before.

  I’d already survived ten years, but I wasn’t sure I could continue inside. It was different knowing what was waiting for me outside. And who was to say she’d even wait. She deserved a life, and sitting around waiting for me wasn’t living. She deserved a family—kids and the white picket fence. I couldn’t give her those things. No matter how badly I wanted to, I just couldn’t.

  She rolled into me, a soft smile on her plump lips. For just a second, I debated taking her and running. We could do it. We could leave and never look back. She’d do that for me. I could see in her eyes every time she looked at me, but again, what kind of life was that for her?

  Could I be that selfish?

  I smiled down at her, letting my fingers slide over her perfect skin. She was magnificent. Her disheveled hair was spread over her pillow and across my arm, tickling my skin. Last night’s eyeliner was smeared on the sides of her eyes, reminding me of the pleasure tears she’d shed the night before.

  We’d made love practically all night. Once I’d even woken up inside her as she rode me, my fingers digging unconsciously into her hips. The best moments of my life included her. They were condensed into a few months that I knew I’d have to keep alive in my memories for the rest of my life.

  It wasn’t healthy, my obsession with her, but it felt amazing. I never wanted to be apart from her. I wanted to live in her. Breathe her into me every second of every day, but reality was real, and that wasn’t something I could do.

  She sighed in her sleep, her lips opening with a breath I felt against my chest. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay in bed with her forever, but my stomach growled loudly, reminding me that if I didn’t eat soon, I’d never be able to pull off round ten with her.

  Her eyes popped open and she chuckled, her voice scratchy and sexy. “Was that your stomach?”

  Twisting a strand of her hair between my fingers, I nodded with a grin.

  “But didn’t I feed you enough last night?”

  I laughed like I hadn’t since I was a boy. My stomach rumbled and tightened with my laughter. It felt good.

  She traced the smile on my lips with her fingers, and I kissed them. She was perfection.

  As she stretched in my grasp, I let her wiggle free.

  “Then I supposed we better shower and get some food in your belly.”

  She pulled the blanket off, and I admi
red her naked back. A few freckles dotted her shoulders and I leaned up, kissing them briefly. Her back was flawless, her skin soft and milky. I ran a finger down her spine, and she practically purred.

  Stretching her neck from side to side, she stood, and her perky ass moved straight into my eye line. I wanted to nibble on it, but again, my stomach growled, reminding me how hungry I was for something more than Lyla. I watched as she walked across the room totally naked, giving me the perfect view of all my favorite physical attributes. Stopping in the doorway of the bathroom, she motioned for me to follow her.

  Like the lovesick puppy I was, I stood on shaking legs and followed behind her. Leaning against the doorway, I watched her body flex as she leaned to turn on the shower water. A heated cloud moved across the room, fogging the bathroom mirror and blocking out our reflections.

  She got in, the water running over her body and wetting the tips of her hair, and I followed her in. Her back met my chest, and I kissed the side of her neck before licking the hot water from her shoulder. There was no such thing as enough.

  Forgetting about my growling stomach, we had round ten against the shower tile. Her nails dug into my shoulder, mixing pleasure with pain. I exploded for her, shattered into a million pieces, and I was sure that I’d never be able to put myself back together again.

  SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT. One minute, I was in the shower with Lyla, pounding into her sweet body, and the sounds of our lovemaking filled the steamy bathroom with echoes of pleasure. The next, I was standing in her living room, staring at her open front door.

  The sound of the clock on the wall was magnified, my senses honed in on everything around me. Chills from the unknown moved up my spine, leaving me feeling cold and unsure. I gripped my fists at my side, realizing then that my hands were wet. Moisture ran down my arms in a ticklish line and dripped to the carpet at my feet.

  I should’ve dried off better after our shower.