by Elle Thorpe
He kissed me deep, his tongue plunging, taking what he needed and yet giving me what I craved at the same time. It felt like hours before he’d had his fill, moving off my mouth and on to my neck. He sucked and bit and licked at the soft skin there, while my nails raked down his back, searching for a way to get beneath his clothes to touch him. His hips pressed to mine, his cock hard and long beneath his pants. He ground against me, trailing his lips across my neck and my throat.
Kiss by kiss, touch by touch, all my reservations fell away. Until it was just him and me. We weren’t two broken souls, desperately clutching to each other in a ghetto alley. We could have been anywhere in the world. We could have been in a multimillion-dollar mansion, and it wouldn’t have made an ounce of difference. Because the setting didn’t matter. All that mattered was him and me and the connection sparking to life between us.
I got my hands up beneath his shirt, fingertips chasing over his warm skin. Every ridge of muscle delighted me, but better was the way his skin turned to goosebumps everywhere I touched him. Once again, I reached for his belt, only to be stopped by thick fingers wrapping around my slender wrists. He dragged them up above my head, holding them with one hand.
“Stay there.” It was more of a promise than a demand. But he held me tight enough that I didn’t want to argue.
The backs of my hands and arms rubbed on the brick wall, the rough surface scratching my skin. I barely noticed, because Liam’s other hand skated down the side of my body, dipping in at my waist and out at my hips, before moving across my belly. He thrust his hips toward mine, his erection not quite hitting me in the right spot, but the intent was there. Need lit up inside me, starting low and spiraling down and out. Every second of it was blinding, fireworks arcing through a dark night sky.
His fingers traced along the elastic band cinched around my waist, holding my skirt up. It was nothing for his fingers to slip below it, palm flattening on my belly and inching lower until his fingers brushed over my mound. He snatched my breath when he reached lower to cup me, fingers navigating between my thighs, and widening my stance.
“I’m supposed to be making you feel better,” I murmured.
“This does make me feel better. So much better.” His lips skated along my jaw until they tickled my ear, his words barely more than a husky whisper. “Nothing is better than feeling how wet you are right now.”
A blush heated my cheeks.
Liam chuckled in my ear. “Does that embarrass you?”
“No.”
“I’m a lawyer, Mae. I know when people are lying.”
“Damn you and your Secret Squirrel lawyer powers.”
The rumble of his laughter vibrated through my chest, my nipples hardening at the sensation. He slipped one finger farther between my legs, nudging apart my folds and sliding through the silky wetness there. There was nothing I could do but surrender to his touch. My eyes fluttered closed, letting the sensation he created take control of my body.
He circled my clit, exploring the most intimate part of me with gentle fingers. But when he found the sensitive bud of nerves, his touch changed. He went from slow, barely-there glides, to a more insistent rub. It built in intensity until he had a rhythm going that made my head spin. I was completely at his mercy, his hand still locked around my wrists, and I wanted nothing more than to surrender to him fully.
“Liam,” I murmured.
His lips and tongue trailed a path down my neck. “I know what you need.”
“I want to touch you.”
“Not yet. Don’t move your arms, Mae. Got it?” He gave my clit a pinch that would have had me agreeing to any condition he put forward. As long as he didn’t stop.
“Say it.”
“I won’t move.”
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Why was that so hot? I should have expected Liam would like to be the dominant one. He was well used to being the center of attention. The one running the show. It made sense that he’d like that control in all areas of his life.
I was more than willing to reap the benefits.
With an extra hand to work my body into a tailspin, he slid his hand up my shirt to cup my breast through my bra. His thumb flicked over the stiff peak of my nipple, adding a new magical spot to my body already lit up like fairy lights.
But it didn’t distract from finally pushing one finger up inside me. I let out a cry that he muffled with his lips. He kissed me hard, his tongue spearing into my mouth in the same tempo that his finger drove into my heat. His second finger hit that spot inside me so deliciously I couldn’t leave my hands on the wall any longer. I wrapped them around Liam’s neck, thrusting my fingers into his thick hair, and mirrored the action with one leg, hooking it around him and letting my hips roll in time.
I groaned, moving faster, meeting the jerk of his hand, my orgasm building deliciously within.
“I want you inside me,” I whispered. I wanted him to yank my skirt up and free his cock, only to slam it inside me in the next instant.
“Good things come to those who wait.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but the inherent promise in his tone had me panting with need. With want. And yet somehow, I knew that if I followed him and let him lead, he’d make it so very worth my while.
Like he’d read my mind, his thumb expertly found my clit and nudged it in time to the movements of his fingers. It was all it took—the combination of his fingers filling and stretching me, with the added friction on my clit—and I fell over the edge, hard. My fingers curled around the strands of his hair, tugging and pulling as feeling exploded through me, a powerful gust of sensation that had me making noises I never had before. My hips rolled wantonly, taking what I needed with no direction from my brain, my body just hell-bent on milking out the best orgasm I’d ever had in my life.
The only orgasm I’d ever had at the hands of someone else.
Liam knew exactly what I needed without me having to say anything. He picked up the cues my body gave him and worked me until I couldn’t bear for him to touch my sensitive flesh for even a moment longer.
It was only then that he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean.
He leaned in close, the stubble across his jawline brushing my chin. “You’re embarrassed again. You shouldn’t be. You taste like fucking sin and Heaven all rolled into one. But next time I taste you, it’s going to be with my head between your thighs.”
I moaned and let him kiss me once more before we both reluctantly pulled away. He straightened my clothes for me, and I swiped a finger over the lipstick that had transferred from my lips to his. We both grinned like two naughty kids who’d been caught kissing on the porch past curfew.
Liam glanced over at the door reluctantly. The relaxed pleasure on his expression slowly disappearing as the real world sank slowly back in.
“Do you want to talk about your mom?” I asked gently.
He raked a hand through his hair and turned his gaze back on me. “Can I just make you come again instead?”
I grinned. “Rain check?”
He fake groaned. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m not going to be able to wait long.”
I wasn’t about to argue.
28
Mae
Mae
By the end of my first week at the men’s prison, my class had more students than I had room for. Every evening, there had been a steady stream of men filing in the door. At first, I’d been pleased by the turnout, truly believing that word must have got around about my class, and that I could help them make something of their time in here. But it quickly became obvious that for the most part, that was a pipe dream. Out of a class of twenty, I was lucky if two listened to a word I had to say.
DeWitt was one of the first to sign up, along with some of his sidekicks. I handed out worksheets, and when I passed one to the big prisoner, he gave me a sly grin.
“Well, thank you, little mouse. I see why Michaelson has a hard-on over you. You are a sweet
treat, aren’t you? I’d like to eat you right up.”
I blanched in disgust.
Rowe grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hauled him out into the hallway before I could even open my mouth to respond. He kicked out DeWitt’s friends just for sniggering, and then helped cull the rest of the class by removing anyone who so much as dared to blink out of turn.
But then the next night there’d be another dozen new guys who were just as rowdy and disruptive.
I gave up trying to engage them all, letting Rowe deal with most of them, and instead focused on the two or three who showed promise and a real commitment to wanting to learn.
“Right.” I clapped my hands together, trying to get the attention of the room. “Let’s work on this math problem. If X equals twelve, and Y equals six, X divided by Y gives you what?”
I waited for any of the guys to raise their hands or call out the answer. It wasn’t even close to the work I should have been teaching these guys for their GED, but I’d found their average level of education was barely sixth grade at best, so I’d had to start from the very beginning. When nobody put up their hands to offer an answer, I let out a sigh. I focused in on one of my more promising students. Vincent seemed out of place amongst the other men, with his quiet, intelligent way of working. “Vincent? X divided by Y gives you…?”
“Gives Vincent a hard-on because a woman is speaking to him.”
The room burst out into hysterical laughter, and I rolled my eyes as Rowe kicked yet another man out into the corridor.
Vincent looked down at his sheet of paper, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. I cringed internally. It was obvious the man was trying to fly under the radar and I’d just dumped him in it. I walked by his desk, and though it was against the rules, I placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
He stiffened beneath my brief touch, but he didn’t say a word. He just slid his paper in my direction. In neat handwriting, he’d written the math problem, along with the right answer. I grinned to myself but didn’t put Vincent in the spotlight any further by commenting on it.
The class carried on, and I did the best I could, but there was one noticeable absence. Heath hadn’t been in my class all week. Rowe had refused to give me any information on where he was, so I’d had Liam inquire instead. He was told that Heath was fine, and in good health, which led me to believe that he wasn’t in my class right now because Rowe was trying to keep the two of us apart.
I hadn’t bothered confronting Rowe about it, knowing he’d just give me the runaround. My life at this prison was easier if I wasn’t constantly arguing with the man.
Rowe called time on the class, and the men gathered up their single sheets of paper and filed toward the door. Rowe confiscated their pencils before letting them out, and I slowly picked up my own things, packing a file of teaching materials away into my oversized bag.
Rowe was watching me when I looked up. He seemed tired tonight, a slight trace of circles beneath his deep-brown eyes. But nothing could dull how sinfully beautiful he was. Nothing could make me forget the way his biceps strained against his uniform as he’d manhandled prisoners out of my room all evening. Or the way his dark gaze followed me around, always making sure I was safe, even if he did hate me being there in the first place.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head wearily. “How long are you going to do this for?”
“Teach seventh grade math?”
“Teach seventh grade math here.”
I shrugged. “Until I get what I came for.”
Rowe leaned against the doorway like he needed it to hold him up. “Michaelson added you to his visit list. Can’t you just be a normal woman and see him during visiting hours? Why make this so difficult for me?”
I patted him on his solid, hard biceps, and fought the urge to leave my hand resting there. “Some things aren’t all about you, Rowe.”
“Mae.”
Rowe and I both snapped our heads around to face the corridor. Heath stood on the opposite side, too handsome to be real. Even in his ugly prison-issued clothes, the man made my heart thump and my stomach flip. His hair had grown out slightly, and the stubble on his cheeks verged on a full beard. He seemed just as tired and worn out as Rowe did. But I drank in the sight of him like a woman who’d spent too long in a desert.
“What are you doing here, Michaelson?” But Rowe’s question had no real energy behind it.
“I just need a minute of Miss Donovan’s time.”
“You just need to go back to your bunk. You know you’re not supposed to be here.”
I stiffened, waiting for Heath to fire up or run his mouth. But he didn’t. He just stared at me with pure desperation in his eyes, and then turned that same face on Rowe. For the tiniest of seconds, their gazes collided, Heath’s earnestly searching the guard’s face. “Please.”
To my surprise, Rowe didn’t turn away. Instead, he studied him carefully and then blew out a long sigh. “Fine. Get in here. You’ve got one minute. You touch her, you’re dead. Got me?”
The fierce protectiveness in Rowe’s voice took me by surprise. As did his willingness to let Heath speak to me. But then Heath was in the room, and Rowe closed the door, locking the three of us inside.
I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had no idea why Rowe was suddenly being so generous, but I wasn’t about to question it. I forced myself to stop a few inches away from Heath, though, and pressed my palms to my sides to keep from reaching out for him.
God, it was hard.
Heath appeared to be fighting a similar battle himself. “What’s happening with you and Liam?”
Shock punched through me, thinking about what Liam and I had done just hours ago in the alleyway outside the homeless shelter. But there was no way Heath could have known about that. And after the shock wore off, I realized he was talking about the information he’d given us about Boston. “Liam spoke to Chief James.”
Heath’s eyes widened. “You went to the cops? About a dirty cop?”
“Where else were we supposed to go? Liam had to say something.”
Heath ran a hand through his hair. “That isn’t gonna get us anywhere. The police are literally useless to us right now. And if it gets back to DeWitt that I’ve been talking…”
I swallowed hard. “Are you in danger?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle it. What did the cops say?”
“They’re looking into it.”
Heath sighed. “In other words, they don’t believe me.”
I shook my head hard. “I know the chief. I’ve met him many a time. And I know my sister believed in him and in her department. They’ll take the accusation seriously.”
“Yeah. But until DeWitt told me that Boston was on the take, we all thought he was a good guy, too. Who’s to say that the chief isn’t in on it as well? I’m telling you, Mae. The cops can’t help us. We’ve gotta go past them. Around them. Whatever it takes.”
I kept shaking my head. I’d spent so much time with my sister in the past ten years, watching as she trained and then dedicated her life to her job. She had such high ideals. She was so by the book, right down to the very letter, and she believed in law enforcement and following the rules. It was impossible for me to believe that she’d worked day in and day out with people who didn’t have the same high morals as she did. “I still don’t think Boston has anything to do with this.”
Rowe cleared his throat. “DeWitt knows you ratted him out to the cops. Boston was down here yesterday chewing him out about it.” His lips pressed together for a moment. “I know Boston, and even though I admit that what I saw yesterday sounds bad, I believed him when he said it wasn’t what it looked like. Forget Boston. DeWitt is your bigger problem now. I doubt he’s impressed that you’ve been blabbing your mouth to save your own skin.”
Heath and I both stared at Rowe with open mouths. It was a moment before either of us could say anything.
Heath
recovered first. “What was I supposed to do? The man admitted I went down for a murder his gang committed. A murder he put the hit out for.”
Rowe’s eyes widened. “You fucking serious?”
Heath’s gaze met his. “Deadly.”
Rowe swore low under his breath.
Heath cocked his head to one side, studying the guard. “You believe me?”
I held my breath. This was huge. If there was even a smidgen of doubt in Rowe’s mind, then maybe we could place that same disbelief into the minds of others. The minds of people who could get Heath the hell out of here.
“I don’t know what to believe. But I’ll admit there are things that don’t add up here. I’ve been chewing that over since I overheard Boston and DeWitt’s conversation.”
I let out the breath I was holding. It was something. A seed of doubt that we could work on.
“Thank you.” Heath nodded at Rowe.
“Don’t bother thanking me. It’s not like I can do nothing. I’ve got about as much pull with the cops as you do. And now not only do you have the cops side-eyeing you, but you’ve put yourself on DeWitt’s shit list. And I don’t know who that guy is on the outside. But in here, if I were you, I’d watch my back.”
For once, Rowe didn’t have anything to say as he walked me to the prison exit. He was stoically quiet, punching in the code to the security door and waiting for me to walk through it into the quiet reception area. Visiting hours were long over, so there was no one behind the reception window. I opened my mouth to say goodbye to Rowe, but he followed me right to the main exit door, holding it open for me like we were on a date. Or like a bouncer, kicking me out.
Knowing Rowe, it was more likely the latter.
But the night outside was nearing on balmy, and the scent of summer was truly in the air. So when Rowe walked side by side with me across the dark parking lot, I didn’t comment. I didn’t want to ruin the nice moment. It felt suspiciously like a truce.
