by Cairo
“I’m nine weeks.”
Heaven smiled back, but her heart silently ached. She wanted what Bianca had—a man who fucked her good and loved her unconditionally.
“I’m so happy for the both of you.”
“Thanks. And the boys are getting bigger than ever.”
“And how are your brothers?”
Bianca shook her head, smiling. “Well, let’s see. Tyler is doing great. Still happily married. Terrance is still in San Diego. He’s divorced from Cherelle . . .”
Heaven laughed. “Oh I’m sure there’s no love lost there.”
“Exactly. I’m so glad he finally saw her for the skank she is.”
Heaven glanced over to her left and witnessed an inmate stealing a kiss from her male visitor, her hand slithering over his crotch. Across from them, a woman slid something into another inmate’s hand. Drugs, Heaven thought.
She brought her attention back to Bianca as she said her brother Terrance was still with the San Diego police force.
“Terrance was always my favorite,” Heaven said, blinking.
“Mine, too,” Bianca admitted.
“And how’s Tyrell, Lamont, and Trent doing?“
“Girl, please. Still manwhores.”
They both laughed.
Bianca shook her head. “And Thomas has, yet, another two kids.”
Heaven gasped. “Ohmygod. How many kids does this make now?”
“Eight. Seven baby mothers; just slinging dick everywhere.”
Heaven chuckled. “Mygod. Does that man know anything about birth control?”
Bianca let out a disgusted grunt. “Apparently not. He says he’s allergic to condoms.”
Heaven looked at her like she had two heads.
Bianca waved her off. “Girl, don’t shoot the messenger.”
The two shook their heads.
“You know,” Heaven said, leaning forward in her seat. “Actually, there is something I need for you to do for me, if you would.”
“Whatever you need,” Bianca assured her.
She lowered her voice. “I have money stashed in a safety deposit box. I need for you to get it, and hold on to it for me and send me about a grand each month. That should keep me comfortable in this hellhole.”
Bianca reached over and took her hand.
Heaven let out a sigh of relief. She knew she could trust her. Begging and groveling and pinching coins wouldn’t have to be her plight.
“Thank you.”
Bianca waved her on. “Girl, no problem. Of course I’ll make sure you have whatever you need.”
Heaven told her where to find the key to her safety deposit box. “Your name is listed at the bank, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Bianca nodded. “Say no more. It’s done.” She shifted in her seat. “Ooh, I need to use the bathroom.”
Heaven pointed toward the registration table. “They’re right there. Over on the left.”
Bianca excused herself, then walked off toward the restrooms.
Heaven glanced toward the microwaves, before shifting her gaze over at the registration table. Sergeant Struthers walked in and stood by the table engaging in conversation with the two female officers, who giggled like two silly schoolgirls.
They probably want to suck his dick, Heaven thought, her attention being snatched by a voice in back of her. “I got my eye on you, Lewis,” the male voice said low, causing her skin to prick with goose bumps. She could smell a hint of mint on his breath.
Heaven glanced over her shoulder and into the eyes of the light-skinned officer who’d been over on the other side of the room watching her.
“Should I be scared . . .?” She glanced at his nametag. “Officer Flores?”
He grinned. “Nah, be ready; that’s all.” Then he walked off, leaving her baffled with his masculine, woodsy scent swirling around her.
Be ready for what?
“Girl, that bathroom is a mess,” Bianca said, finally returning to her seat holding two bags of Doritos and two bottles of water in her hands.
Heaven swallowed, glancing up at her. “Girl, please. These hoes coming up in here to visit are about as nasty and trifling as some of the inmates.”
“So I see.” She handed Heaven a bag of chips. “You still like Cool Ranch?”
She smiled. “Girl, you know these are my favorite.” She took the bag, opening them. “Thanks.”
For the remainder of the two-hour visit, the two women talked, laughed, and gouged on carbs the way they used to when they were young girls.
When the announcement was made that visiting was over, Heaven stood to her feet, and Bianca reluctantly did the same. It hurt her to see Heaven in prison garb, but she was relieved to see how good she looked in spite of her current situation.
“It was so good to see you.”
“You, too. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem, girl. I’m here for you.”
The two women hugged, promising to stay in touch. Heaven gave her cousin a wave and watched her leave out the visiting area, while she made her way over to the line for the strip room to be searched.
And across the room, all Heaven felt was the heat of eyes burning over her flesh. And she couldn’t help staring back into the gaze of Officer Flores, wondering exactly what the hell she needed to be ready for.
FORTY
Ready or Not . . .
Heaven found herself feeling a mixture of relief and sadness on her way back to the housing unit. She was relieved knowing she had someone on the outside that she could honestly trust to handle her money affairs, without trying to fuck her over. She cursed herself for not thinking of her cousin sooner. Bianca had always been trustworthy, even while growing up. As teens, she’d entrusted Bianca with her secrets, like getting pregnant while in college, then having an abortion, and her three trips to the clinic with syphilis once and chlamydia twice.
Not once had Bianca judged her or repeated what she’d been told. And Heaven loved her for safeguarding her secrets; never throwing them back up in her face, as they grew older and apart.
Heaven was pissed at herself for not reaching out to her all this time, but was happy her cousin had made her way up to the prison to visit.
As much as she’d needed that visit, it hurt her even more having to hug Bianca goodbye, knowing she wouldn’t be walking out that door with her for many years to come.
With her right hand, she swiped at a lone tear before it had a chance to slide down her cheek. “No tears,” she mumbled to herself. Crying made her vulnerable and a potentially easy target for some wolf-ass bitch lurking in the shadows for new prey. Her list of enemies seemed to be growing rapidly thanks to her still brewing beefs with that Goldie bitch and the rest of her 4 East cronies.
All over some ho who tried to force herself on her.
Heaven shook her head.
Even with the effort administration put on her to keep her and the inmates she’d fought away from each other, Heaven knew if anyone wanted to get at her, they would.
The question was when?
The corridor back to her housing unit was uncharacteristically quiet for a Saturday afternoon, which made her wonder why there wasn’t a lot of movement, or the sound of other inmates within earshot. She’d been one of the last inmates to get strip-searched and had expected there’d be stragglers in the corridors.
But there wasn’t.
Maybe because it’s—
A strong, masculine hand came from out of nowhere and covered her mouth, nearly scaring her shitless. He wrapped a muscular arm around her, pulling her up against his surprisingly hard chest and snatching her around the corner and pulling her into a closet.
Oh, God. She didn’t know if she should put up a struggle and bite his hand or scream. But then came her captor’s voice, “Ssh,” he whispered in her ear. His heated breath caressed her skin. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Wait.
She’d heard that voice before. It was familiar, but she couldn’t pu
t her finger on it. Her body stiffened in her abductor’s arms. It was a CO. “Relax,” he said in an authoritative voice, loosening his grip, a hand lightly brushing over her left breast.
And what frightened, and aroused her, was the way his body felt against hers—lean, tall, and toned, along with his natural animal scent blended with an intoxicating fragrance. Expensive. Masculine.
Her cunt clenched.
“Didn’t I tell you to be ready?”
Officer Flores.
“Are you crazy?” she hissed, twisting out of his grasp. “You scared the shit out of me.” Her voice was breathless, and she wondered why there weren’t any other COs monitoring the corridors. And she cursed herself, wondering why the hell had her panties gotten wet.
He smirked, his gaze gliding up and down her body, causing her body to heat. “My bad. I didn’t mean to frighten you, Lewis. I couldn’t visit, though. You were strutting, nah . . . swaying like you don’t have a care in the world.”
She glared at him, then found herself gazing down at the long, thick lump in his uniform pants. She swallowed. Tried to rein in her slutty thoughts. Her chest rose and fell at a rapid rate.
“How can I help you?” she asked, sounding out of breath.
“Let me holla at you for minute,” he said, tugging her by the elbow and quickly ushering her into a utility closet he’d—unbeknownst to her—already made sure was unlocked.
He’d also managed to divert any other inmate traffic from coming this way. He’d had one of his cohorts send the inmates out of the strip room through another door that led to the other side of the compound where each inmate could get to their housing units. Sure, a longer walk. But it gave him the chance to make his move on the sexy enchantress. He’d had his eye on her from the moment she’d stepped foot on the prison grounds. But he hadn’t had the opportunity to get at her. Until now.
Shit. He had to manipulate and practically give his left nut to make this happen. All he needed was fifteen, twenty, minutes tops. He’d heard the rumors that she was a freak. Heard the buzzes of how fat her pussy was. How she loved playing in it, enticing motherfuckers, while in lockup.
And now he wanted to see—and hopefully feel—firsthand if what he’d heard about the beauty standing before him held true. He’d watched her in the visiting hall, his dick hard as steel. He wanted some head, ass, something. Shit. His wife wasn’t fucking him, and he’d already fucked half the female officers—and most of their pussies were trash, any-damn-way.
He wanted some new pussy. Wild, uninhibited prison snatch.
And he wanted hers before any other motherfucker had the chance to stretch their dick up in her.
“What is it you want . . . Officer Flores?” she questioned, her gaze shifting from his dick print, pulling him from his lusty thoughts.
He stepped up in her space, causing her to take a step back, her ass suddenly brushing the wall. God, he smelled good—too damn good.
“You,” he drawled.
She gave him an incredulous look, even though she wasn’t surprised by what he’d said. She saw the way he’d looked at her the first time she’d been to visits months ago, and then today.
“Me? You don’t even know me.”
He leaned in closer, lowering his head; his lips a mere inches from hers. “Yeah. But I know enough to know that I like what I see, mami. And I want what I see. You do me right, and I’ll do you even better. So what I gotta do to get you on your knees sucking this dick?”
She tilted her head coyly. She couldn’t deny. He was fine, and he looked to have what might be a big, thick dick. She needed, no wanted, some new dick on her team. New dick meant a new prison sponsor. And anything she could do to make moves in this fucking hellhole drama-free she’d consider doing it—at least once.
“Depends?”
He licked his lips. “On?”
She stared him in the eyes. “On what you can do for me. These dick-sucking skills don’t come free,” she snapped sassily. “And neither does this pussy. So if you’re looking for a head doctor, then you’ll need to slide a hundred dollars into my commissary.”
“And how I know you’re worth a hundred dollars?”
She arched her back, allowing her breasts to poke out further. “You don’t.”
He grinned, his dick throbbing, straining against the fabric of his pant leg. He wanted to fuck her. Right here, right now. He wanted her sucking his dick with her on her knees, worshipping his cock like a good little bitch. And then he wanted to bend her sweet ass over, handcuff her hands behind her back and fuck her long and hard, balls deep. And then after he finished nutting in her cunt, he wanted to eat that pussy, clean her out with his tongue and suck on those sweet tits.
“And if I wanna fuck?”
Crossing her arms, Heaven tossed her head to displace a wisp of hair dangling on her forehead. “Then you’re going to need to get me on a housing unit where I can maneuver more freely.” She liked being back on 3 West. But she was sick of those depressing prison bars. They made her feel like some wild, caged animal.
At least a door would make her feel . . . well, more normal. That was the beauty of being in lockup. She had the gift of a door. Privacy. Yes, yes. She wanted a steel door.
God, she couldn’t believe she actually wanted a door with a food port, instead of the open bars on her cell. At least having a cell with bars afforded her a better view of the housing unit. She could see who was moving around on the unit, but it also made it easier for some hateful bitch to sling piss or shit bombs—or worse, a Molotov cocktail—into her cell in an attempt to set her ablaze.
No, no. No thank you.
A door would prevent that. Provide more safety. She was precious cargo. She needed safeguarding. Besides, she couldn’t even talk on her cell without fear of getting caught.
Wait. That Coletta chick from 4 East flashed in her head. She didn’t want to risk ending up with another crazy bitch like her for a cellie.
“I want a single cell,” she stated. Then she licked her lips. “But, until then, I might be willing to give you a sampler if . . .” She paused, her gaze fluttering down to his crotch, then all the way down to his feet. Size thirteen, at least. He had on a pair of shiny black, military-style boots.
He rubbed a hand over his dick. The mischievous look in his eyes said he was ready to devour her, ravage her cunt, her mouth—and possibly even her ass. The idea excited her. She felt a tingling in her clit, her inner walls clutching with horny want.
“If what, baby?”
She flitted her gaze back up to his eyes. “If—”
She was cut off by the low crackle of his radio followed by a baritone voice. The officer in central control was looking for him. Fuck. He cursed again under his breath, then radioed in, his gaze never leaving hers, giving the officer in central control his ETA.
He glanced at his watch. He really had to bounce. They’d already been in the tiny space for almost ten minutes. Getting caught in a closet with an inmate wasn’t an option. He’d kill this bitch first. Well, maybe, not literally.
He licked his bottom lip, then pulled it into his mouth. “I gotta bounce, mami. But know this”—his eyes darkened, making him look more predatory than ever—“you gonna be my lil’ prison whore,” he said bluntly.
Her hazel eyes flashed with indignation despite the heat that suddenly pooled low in her belly. “I don’t think—”
He stole a kiss, slamming his mouth over hers—his plush, cushy lips and thick tongue demanding her mouth open as he framed her face with his large hands. The effect was unexpected. Potent. His tongue brushed over hers. And then . . . she felt it—his big dick. No, no—his very thick, very long dick.
Without a second thought, she ran her hand up and down the length of it. When she finally reached the head of his dick, she let out a soft whimper into his mouth. It was the size of a plum. She kneaded it, and his dick grew harder and thicker in response to her touch.
A groan slipped from the back of his throat, c
ausing her body to reverberate with desire. Her mouth watered, and their kiss became wetter, juicier; her tongue slick heat against his. She knew then. She’d fuck him.
God help her, him—she’d let him spear her cunt with his long, thick sword. But she’d be dammed if she’d fuck him right here, right now.
Not when her wet cunt was desperately clinging to her cell phone—sealed in plastic and tucked inside a latex glove—by its slippery walls. God, no, she needed to remove it, before, before . . .
Shit.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she released her grasp on his hardened dick and pushed him slightly back from her—breathless—before she reached for the button of his uniform pants, lowered his zipper and tunneled her hand into his pants, freeing him.
She needed space. Air.
Suddenly, she felt claustrophobic.
And incredibly wet.
FORTY-ONE
The Morning After . . .
“So what I gotta do to get you on your knees sucking this dick?”
Heat flashed through her body as memories of her unexpected closet rendezvous with Officer Flores flooded her mind. It’d been over a month ago since that sordid encounter. Yet, the recollection of him was still fresh in her mind and had suddenly filled her with lusty desires, and now she felt her pussy warming.
She swallowed, and fought the urge to finger herself. She didn’t usually like her men thin. Tall, yes. Very tall preferred. But—Lord, yes—he was tall and thin.
She’d make an exception, this once.
The thought of that big, long dick stretching her cunt to the seams made her tingle from the inside out. She’d never been a ho or a whore—she’d learned, many years ago, from her cousin, Bianca, that there was a difference—on the streets. But, in the words of her favorite radio personality, Marcel, on 93.3 The Heat—she was ready to let her “freak flag fly.”
She already kept it sexy, kept it wet . . . always stayed ready. But fucking multiple men, let alone fantasizing about it, had never been her thing. She’d been a closet freak most of her life, beasting in the sheets only with men she’d been in relationships with.
