“Yeah. Probably should grab some bedding too.”
So we spent a few minutes in the clothing room. I chose simple things—a white t-shirt and gray sweat pants, along with a red flannel shirt. I spied bras and panties and probably should have grabbed some, but I’d been going so long without, I decided to go a little longer. I had my own undergarments at home that I’d be happy to wear, but for now, I’d bypass them. I grabbed a pair of socks and called it good. By the time I was done, Kevin already had a blanket, sheets, pillows, and shams. “Ready?”
“More than.”
We found the cell we’d initially chosen and then decided on a different one, now that we had more time to browse. The one we picked looked to have a nicer toilet. After dressing, we made the bed—he covered the pillows while I put the sheets on—and then we walked back to the bathroom for our forgotten shoes.
The clothes? They felt amazing.
Then we made our way back to the open area. I was ravenous, not that I was hungrier than I had been over the past several months; no, I was hungry with expectation. But there was no food, and I couldn’t smell any. However, I did see a guard sitting at a desk several feet away in the open area on the other side of the bars. I called to him and, when he looked up, I asked, “Did we miss dinner?”
“Nope. They’re just runnin’ late. Probably another ten minutes or so. You need something to eat right now?”
“No. I think we’re okay.”
He told us that, in the kitchen to the right, there were glasses and we could get some water while we waited for dinner. So we did. And, by the time the food arrived, we were hungrier than we’d been in a while.
The guard, although I was sure he wouldn’t have appreciated that job title, unlocked the gate and wheeled a cart in. While he was setting food on the table, he said, “They bring us food too. Smells pretty good. You like fried chicken?” My mouth started watering at the idea. I hadn’t had fried chicken in years; I probably hadn’t even had chicken in a year. He picked up two trays and set them on the table, followed by two bowls and two small plates. “Sometimes they send special drinks too. Last night, we had orange juice, and last week, they made a dessert coffee. Anyway, enjoy. You can wash the dishes tonight or we can get them in the morning.”
We thanked him and then pulled the lids off everything. The serving dishes reminded me of what they used in the hospital—kind of an insulated plastic designed to maintain the temperature until the food arrived at its destination. “Holy shit,” I said. It was a feast compared to what we’d been eating.
“Holy shit is right.” Small bowls of salad with what looked like ranch dressing, plates of hot food—fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn—and small plates with brownies. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“No kidding.” I didn’t wait, picking up the bowl and stabbing the salad with a fork, shoving it in my mouth before sitting down. I verbalized my pleasure, almost a moan, because I hadn’t had this kind of food in months. It was one of the most boring salads I’d ever seen—iceberg lettuce with shredded carrots and a glob of ranch—but it was also the most delicious. I scarfed it down and then realized I needed to slow down. My stomach was gurgling, and I knew it was because I wasn’t used to eating like this, nor this quickly.
I looked up at Kevin, and bliss was written all over his face. He had a spoonful of mashed potatoes and he put it in his mouth, closing his eyes and taking his time. That inspired me, and I took a bite of mine too. Wow. I’d never enjoyed potatoes this much before. “Oh, my God. This is amazing.”
Kevin opened his eyes and smiled at me. “Mmm-hmm.” He looked so content, so happy, and, as much as I’d thought I was enjoying the experience, he was appreciating it that much more.
“Better than sex?”
He nodded. “Almost.”
I smiled. “Really?” I hadn’t felt sexy in years, especially over the past several months, stranded out in the wilderness with no clean clothes and no makeup…but tonight? Tonight I was as close as I would ever get under the circumstances. I stood, no longer hungry. I wasn’t used to eating this much food this quickly, and I knew it would be here when my stomach calmed down. Maybe I’d enjoyed the idea of food more than the actual food, but I was appreciating it vicariously. “Then right now, Savage, you’re masturbating.”
He chuckled and shrugged. “The date that never stands you up.” I grinned and straddled him, sitting on his lap facing him. He looked at me, his eyes dark, but I knew he was hungry—not just for me—and I wanted to join in the fun. I took his spoon from him and scooped up some mashed potatoes and guided them in his mouth. He smiled and ate them and then said, “Careful. I could get used to this.” I didn’t say anything, picking up another spoonful of potatoes, only this time, when I got them close to his mouth and he opened up, I pulled them back. I did it a couple of times until finally relenting and easing the spoon onto his tongue. After he finished the mouthful, he said, “Tease.”
Then I felt him grow hard underneath me. Part of me wanted him to throw me on the table, but the guard was just outside the cage doors. It didn’t stop me from grinding against him, though, and I saw the look in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and gave me half a smile. Yeah, maybe dinner could wait.
He reached over and grabbed the brownie. He broke a chunk off the corner, shoving some in his mouth and then putting a bite in mine. I sucked on his finger, not letting him take it out right away, and then his eyes changed from playful to serious. He took his finger out of my mouth and stood, his hands holding me up by my ass, and he wasted no time walking to our temporary bedroom, a six-by-eight foot gray space I’d only spent five minutes in.
There was a tiny area of wall next to the bed, and he pressed me up against it while colliding his mouth with mine. My legs were wrapped around him so that his cock was throbbing against me—the only thing stopping it from immediate entry was the fabric of his jeans and my pants, but I could feel my underside clenching against him, willing him inside. When his lips released mine, I dropped my head back, arching against him, and his lips grazed at the skin on my neck, devouring me like he should have his food.
As much as I wanted to feel him and needed him inside me, I felt an urge to make this all about him. I hadn’t yet tasted his cock, something I’d have eagerly dropped to my knees to do decades ago, and something I’d been remiss in experiencing now. But just as the thought flooded my mind, he pulled my t-shirt, along with the flannel over shirt, up my torso and I lifted my arms in response. He brought his lips down hard on one of my nipples, eliciting a gasp from my throat that sent shivers through me. And it would have been so easy to proceed naturally with what was already happening, but when I looked back over our day—our entire day, one that had almost started out just as a hundred others had, followed by a journey that we braved through, and the fact that he was willing to stand by my side to get back into a town that he no longer gave a shit about—I wanted the focus tonight to be on him and him alone. As his lips met mine again, I pressed against him once more, straightening my legs in his arms. Just the fact that he had the strength to hold me up after all we’d been through today was an impressive feat.
He wasn’t taking the hint. “Put me down.”
He moved his lips to my ear and growled, “Why?”
“Trust me.” I nibbled his ear, hoping to convince him. When he didn’t respond to my request right away, I grazed his neck with my teeth and then ran my tongue up and along his freshly shaved jawline until he acquiesced.
I know it was difficult for him, because I could practically feel him throbbing through his jeans, but he would soon find out I was planning to take care of that. He let me down and my first task was to peel his shirt off. As I pushed it up his torso, he grabbed it and pulled it over his head, so I attacked his chest with my mouth, tasting him more than I’d ever had the opportunity before. I was feeling braver now, more sure of myself, and he would reap the benefits. I pushed against him, guiding him to turn, and shov
ed him against the wall.
He scowled. “Pushy.” I grinned, raking my fingers down his chest, letting my nails scratch the surface of his skin. “I like it.”
“You better.” I turned my head up to his, wanting his lips on mine once more, as I wrapped my fingers around his waistband and then found the button and undid it. Just a quick move of my wrist to pull down the zipper and I had my hand around his cock. Oh, God, it was harder than steel, and I could feel the veins running along the surface. I’d forgotten how much I loved the feel of a man’s tool in my hand. I sucked on his bottom lip as I felt him losing concentration, and I kissed my way down his body to kneel at the altar of him and peeled his jeans apart enough to let him all the way out.
I held his shaft in my hands as I licked the head, running the tip of my tongue along the rim. The skin there was soft, and then I pulled it into my mouth, tasting the droplet hanging on the tip, letting me know he was aching for more. But, just as I’d teased him with the food, I wasn’t going to let him off easily. I let him out of my mouth and ran my tongue along his entire length, and I heard him let out a heavy sigh. As I made my way back to the tip, I felt his fingers wind through my damp hair, and I decided to put him out of his misery. I sucked him down hard, as far as I could, while massaging the base. He groaned then and ran his hands up under my hair, gathering it behind my head as I began a steady motion, taking his cock in and out of my mouth.
But then I felt pressure from the roots of my hair as he pulled up and against the base of my head. “Come here,” he urged, and the desperation in his eyes couldn’t be denied. I sensed my pussy clenching against nothing but the hope and desire I felt for him. My mouth pulled on him hard one last time and he let out a breath, but as I stood, he lifted me up once more, turning and slamming me against the wall. He had unfinished business, wanted to end the way we’d started, and I wasn’t going to deny him that.
My body was begging for it.
One problem: my pants were still on. I reached down and pushed them off my hips and down my legs until I was able to kick them off. I looked in his eyes, and they were beautiful, perhaps the loveliest eyes I’d ever seen, the clearest green the universe had ever known. I was consumed then, not just with animal passion but with a force so hard it nearly knocked me down, with the purity of an emotion I had denied myself for ages, because all that depth of feeling did was lead to hurt, to need, to worry.
But it was there nonetheless, and the only way to block it out was giving in to the animal inside me. “Fuck me, Savage. Fuck me hard.” His eyes grew dark as the primal being inside him responded, and he pierced me, sending a charge through my body, and I cried out.
As he drove himself into me, it felt as though we melded into one. We climbed to the peak of sensation together and toppled over the edge, left shuddering in the wake of pleasure in each other’s arms.
After we caught our breath, he rested his forehead on mine and I opened my eyes to look at him. The sensation was overwhelming, the need to tell him how I felt deep down.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk the hurt, the pain, and the stupid seventeen-year-old inexperienced girl still lurked in there. She remained fearful of rejection.
And so I didn’t say a word, instead drowned out anything I wanted to say with a consuming kiss.
In our post-coital haze, we fetched the food out of the commons area (I wearing my flannel shirt and nothing else, he wearing his jeans) and dined on our bed, cross-legged and all smiles.
But now he slept, and I stared at the gray walls of our tiny cell. We were tight in that stupid small bed, but we’d managed to make it work in spoon fashion…and that would have been fine if I’d been able to find sleep. Instead of basking in feelings of joy and bliss, I focused on this prison, for that was what it really was, no matter what the folks running the place called it, and I wondered what the hell I’d done.
Chapter Sixty
“Blurry” – Puddle of Mudd
BELIEVE IT OR not, those three days in captivity flew. We showered every day, appreciating that we could. And we changed clothes every damn day too. We still couldn’t eat all the food they brought us, but Kevin ate more than I did. Vanilla pudding? Hell, yeah. Bring that shit on. Salisbury steak? French fries? Lasagna? I felt like a queen, even though I was eating glorified cafeteria food.
We also spent a lot of time outside. The weather was mild and warm. Being at a lower altitude after having adjusted to higher climes, we almost felt as though early summer was under way. There were lots of nonfiction books, and we’d take one outside to read. We also found a gym and played around in there for some time each morning. I found a one-thousand-piece puzzle that I managed to get Kevin to work with me a little until he found a volume of the collected works of Ernest Hemingway.
Friday afternoon, though, we were buzzing with excitement. To be able to be around people again made us want to be sociable. I talked a lot that afternoon, trying to burn off my nervous energy, and I told Kevin I planned to head north the very next day.
He was quiet.
Quieter than usual.
I just attributed it to the same reason, never once thinking that maybe he had other things on his mind.
There were a couple of battery-operated clocks located in the jail, but I still hadn’t readjusted to relying on a clock. There was no reason to. I had no obligations outside those walls, wasn’t beholden to anyone else, so I had no need to keep track. I had developed a strong sense of general time, though, based on the light and some kind of internal temporal tracker, and later in the day, I was antsy, so I took our bed clothing and folded it. I didn’t know where they wanted those items. The first day, we’d left our dirty clothes in a pile in the bathroom. I knew there was a laundry room on the premises somewhere, but I didn’t know how things worked anymore. Did this society do laundry using a washing machine and dryer, or were those appliances deemed inefficient and wasteful in today’s world? Did they simply air out bedding and leave it for the next person, provided there was nothing nasty on it?
Just that thought made me shiver. What was funny was I’d only been back for three days, and already I was acting spoiled and pampered again.
That thought alone was hilarious. I’d never been high maintenance nor a princess. I’d always worked hard for everything I had and my expectations were low. I was the epitome of unspoiled. Still…even after having worn the same clothes for weeks on end before changing them, the idea now of sharing bedding with someone who’d only used the same sheets for one night grossed me out.
Ah, how times change…all based on one’s present situation.
After organizing the bedding and musing over my silliness, I tried working on the puzzle to no avail, so I boxed it up and put it away…then organized all the games and puzzles and books. I wandered around and finally found Kevin. He was sitting outside. I asked him if he was okay and he said he was, but he wasn’t inclined to elaborate.
I could feel his nerves, but I couldn’t be sure that we were on the same wavelength.
So I gave him his space. I’d been married long enough to know that men sometimes need a cave to retreat into, and he couldn’t very well do that if I was constantly hovering around.
I wound up exploring the jail. Because it wasn’t locked up on the inside, I was able to check out most of the areas; I just couldn’t get outside the cage I was locked in. It managed to occupy a lot of time, though, and after a while, when I thought it was probably time, I headed to the kitchen to check the clock, pleasantly surprised to see that it was six PM.
Then shocked. I wondered if they were waiting for me.
I hurried into the commons area, expecting to find Kevin and maybe a guard or the warden…but there was no one. I panicked then, wondering if they’d let Kevin out without me—or done something else sinister. I called for him, hoping he’d hear me, but there was no answer. The quiet was eerie. I tried to keep my emotions ratcheted down, though, and decided to look for Kevin the last place I’d seen him.
Outside.
Sure enough, he was still out there, leaning against the sun-warmed brick wall that was beginning to cool as the sun drifted behind the mountain. I walked over to him, loathe to interrupt his time by himself but desperate for information. I sat next to him, resting my back against the wall as well and just taking in the sky for a few moments before speaking.
He didn’t talk, and it was as though all the months we’d spent together were for naught. I wasn’t in his bubble at the moment—he was worlds away.
Well, I had to break through it whether he was ready for it or not. “They say anything to you?”
He looked over at me. “Who?”
“The guard or the warden. They should have picked us up by now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, setting his jaw, and then he shoved himself up off the concrete. “Let’s see what the hell’s going on then.”
Interesting. Now he was the man of action again after being introspective all day. I didn’t know how to deal with it, but I wasn’t going to say anything. We started walking toward the door that led inside and I asked, “That’s right, right? We got here Tuesday afternoon and they ‘booked’ us Tuesday night…so they should let us out tonight, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. What time is it?”
“After six.”
When we walked toward the main area, the guard was in the room unloading a cart full of food. “What the fuck?” Kevin asked, and for some reason, I felt paranoid. We were already technically in jail. I didn’t want to be stuck here due to bad behavior.
The guard, not the same guy we were used to, looked up and said, “Excuse me?”
Kevin blinked, realizing this guy wasn’t as laid back as the last guy. If Kevin decided to get up in the guy’s face, the guard might piss himself. I knew he wasn’t really a guard—at least, he hadn’t been before all this shit. This time, Kevin’s voice was calmer, quieter, and more rational sounding. “We were under the impression that we were going to be let out tonight.”
Savage Page 34
