by Elle Thorpe
But then Liam was pushing inside me, my body welcoming him home, and all other thoughts flew out of my mind. We both groaned together. And then he kissed me, swallowing my moans of ecstasy as his cock stretched me deliciously. He rocked himself in and out of my body, his momentum slowly picking up until his thrusts matched the tempo of my fingers on my clit.
It was me who fell over the cliff first. Ecstasy rushed through my body, starting deep within me and burying its way into every fiber of my being. It tunneled through my core and radiated out through my limbs until every inch of me spasmed and tingled and cried out with joy.
My internal walls clamped down around Liam and sent him flying over into his own abyss. His shout as he barreled into an orgasm was muffled by his mouth on mine, and our tongues tangling, the kisses urgent and needy and messy. He thrust himself in and out of my tight core, riding both of our orgasms out for as long as either of us could stand, until I was oversensitive and begging for mercy.
I wrapped my legs around him and he sank down on top of me. His weight was heavy and warm, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of our naked bodies.
“You know something?” he murmured into the crook of my neck.
I trailed my fingers up and down his bare back. “What’s that?”
“I’m really glad I never asked you out in high school now.”
I pushed him off me just a little, so I could see his face. He was flushed pink from exertion, but his smile was ear to ear, and that glint in his eyes had me wondering how quickly he’d be up for a second round. “Why is that?”
“Because I’ve never had first-time sex like that. With anyone. And somehow, I don’t think little Mae Donovan, the valedictorian of Providence School for Girls, would have let me fuck her mouth in the middle of the hallway when we were seventeen.”
I grinned at him. “And I don’t think cocky, arrogant Liam Banks, valedictorian of Edgeley Academy, could have lasted that long. I heard the rumors about you. One and done, right?”
It wasn’t true. I hadn’t heard any rumors. But it was fun to tease him.
Liam’s mouth dropped open. “Who told you that? I’m going to call them right now and demand a retraction. Just give me a name.”
I laughed and pulled his mouth to mine once more. And when he deepened the kiss, I let him show me again that he had the stamina to prove my fake rumor wrong.
34
Heath
I was sick of other men. So incredibly over their constant talk. There was never a minute alone. Or a minute of silence. Every minute of every freaking day was filled with the complete and utter garbage they spewed. One-upping each other. Talking about the crimes they’d committed and the women they’d screwed on the outside, like each one was some sort of medal to hang around their necks.
I just wanted them all to go away. To leave me in peace.
I didn’t want to make friends, or alliances. I didn’t want to talk about my past, or a future that might not even exist.
I shifted onto my side on the lumpy prison mattress and propped my book open with one hand. With the other, I shoved a pillow over my head, only leaving enough room to peep out to see the words.
Books were all I had in here. Books and the tiny glimpses of Mae that I got when she was here, teaching her class. But those weren’t enough. My memories and my imagination had to fill in the rest.
I tried to focus on the words, but the other prisoners were particularly loud today. The buzz of a building argument over a card game on the row behind mine grated through my nerves, and someone’s obnoxious laugh echoed through the high-ceilinged room. I sighed, knowing it would only be a matter of time before the guards got pissed off and began shouting at everyone to keep it down.
All the more reason to keep to myself and just read my damn book.
It’s not like I had anything better to do until Mae’s shift started later.
A tugging at my foot caught my attention. I threw off the pillow and sat up, only to feel the cool prison air brush over my now bare toes.
DeWitt’s favorite goon, Randall, stood in my tiny cubicle. An unwritten rule breach between prisoners. You didn’t enter another man’s space uninvited.
And you certainly didn’t enter his space, then pull his fucking sock off his foot.
Randall dangled the sock in front of me tauntingly.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I lunged forward to grab it, but the man danced out of my reach and back into the walkway.
He laughed and tucked my sock into his back pocket. “Gonna put it on the door of that hot teacher’s classroom so everyone knows not to interrupt while I’m banging her.”
Red flashed behind my eyes. My secret was out. Every man here knew that there was something more between Mae and me than I was letting on. And they used it every opportunity they had. I was learning to shove that anger deep inside. Because at the end of the day, they were just words. And ramming my fist into this guy’s nose, despite the fact I really wanted to, was not going to get me anywhere but solitary.
I wouldn’t give them more fuel by responding.
But I did need my sock back. If I didn’t hand in two at the end of the day, there’d be red flags raised. My cubicle would be searched, making sure I wasn’t hiding it with the intent of doing God knows what. Strangling someone with it? Knotting a whole bunch of them together and making a rope that I could dangle out a window to escape? I had no idea, but the prison had a lot of little rules like that. They were on top of everything, and always looking for a break in protocol, so they could slam you with a punishment and remind you who was in charge of your life.
So I followed after Randall, dodging around other prisoners, and picking up the pace.
“Maybe I’ll use it to tie your girl’s hands up, instead, huh, Michaelson? She like it like that?”
The desire to slam my fist into this guy’s face grew. Fuck, it would be so satisfying. It would ease the anger building inside me. It skated up from deep within, building in intensity like a wave ready to crash down and completely wipe out everything else.
It was that red haze that blocked out my sight. My hearing.
It blocked out everything else until it was too late.
Randall stopped abruptly. He tossed me the sock.
I caught it, blinking at him in surprise. It made no sense. Why come into my cubicle and start something, only to call it off a moment later? It didn’t fit. It wasn’t how things worked around here. If you started something, you had to be prepared to see it through, right to the very bitter end sometimes.
The only way things ended around here was if a guard stepped in.
Or in blood.
I froze. Where the hell were all the guards?
Randall chuckled darkly. “Not so tough without your guard boyfriend hanging around, are you?”
My gaze flitted around the large room and saw what I hadn’t a minute ago. Men closing in on me, stalking forward slowly, forming a circle, while chaos erupted around us. At the back of the room, three prisoners overpowered one guard, while to the left of the room, all I could see was legs sticking out from the end of the row. I couldn’t see the guard’s face, so I had no idea if the guy was out cold, or worse. With rising panic eating its way through my center, I searched for the final guard.
Colt, I realized with a flash of panic. He was the young guard, the one who was friends with Pritchard. He swung a powerful punch into the midsection of one prisoner, and then followed with another when the man kept coming at him. He was a good fighter. That much was clear. His strikes were the coordinated lunges of a man who knew what he was doing. And yet no man was any match for a coordinated group attack. Prisoners swarmed him, hyped up by mob mentality and a swirling sense of violence in the air.
War cries echoed around the room, and from somewhere in the back, somebody started up a chant. “Riot. Riot. Riot.”
My gaze met Colt’s, right as he slammed his fist against the emergency button. Then he was swallowed by the mob.
I expected fear. I expected the men to back down. But if anything, the frenzy only increased. And the prisoners went into action.
“You picked the wrong team, Michaelson. We tried to tell you. Me and DeWitt. You could have been in on all of this. You could have been our partner. We want to give you one last shot, because, brother, we don’t know where you stand. We saw you and Pritchard and the teach, chatting it up real friendly like in her classroom. And some of us round here are thinking you might be a snitch.”
I blinked in disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He clucked his tongue, circling me as the other members of his gang crept in closer. “We’re thinking you’re undercover. A cop or a guard, sent in here to spy. You a spy, bro?”
I wished I was. Because fuck, that would be a whole lot better than being in here on pending murder charges. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, bro.” I spat the term out. Because this man wasn’t my brother. No one in here was.
“You disrespect us. We offered you friendship, but you sneer down your nose at us like your shit don’t stink.” He got up in my face, brave amongst the chaos he’d caused, and a circle of menacing figures drawing closer.
I didn’t have to look at them to know they scented blood in the air. They were the sharks. And I was the swimmer.
“I never disrespected you.”
“Bullshit.” The man’s breath washed over my face, rancid from his rotting teeth. “Then get on your knees and show me respect.”
The other men chuckled. “On your knees, Michaelson,” one of them laughed.
I refused to budge. I had never disrespected the man. I didn’t want to join his fucking pack of scumbags. I just wanted to be left the hell alone. They’d taken Pritchard’s interest in me as more than what it was.
I could ignore Randall, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to kneel for him. “No.”
Randall widened his eyes and put a hand to his chest. “No?” he gasped in mock surprise.
The other men chuckled at his antics.
Randall’s gaze narrowed once more. “Kneel.”
Jesus Christ. The guy was a headcase on a power trip.
They didn’t even give me the chance to say no again. Somebody kicked out the back of my legs, forcing my knees down hard into the unforgiving cement floor. Two guys grabbed my arms, and Randall gripped me hard around the chin, his fingers pressing deep against my jawbone.
“You don’t want to give me your respect? Then I’ll take it.”
As the first blows rained down on me, all I could think was that I was glad Mae didn’t start for another hour. That she’d still be safe at home. And that if I didn’t make it out of this alive, I would go to my death forever regretting not kissing her.
35
Rowe
“I just want it stated for the record that I already had the prisoners clean out this storage room before you even started here. So this is a total waste of time.”
Mae glared at me from the darkest corner of the storage closet, dusty boxes and overflowing piles of decades-old junk surrounding her. “I’d seriously hate to see your house if you think this is cleaned out.”
She was wrong. There was nothing in my house to even get messed up. It was as minimalist as you could get. I didn’t even own a couch. Just a bed, a TV, and a stack of takeout menus. There was very little besides those necessities. Everything else had too many memories attached, and I couldn’t stand the daily reminders. “It’s fine for a prison classroom.”
“I can’t teach like this, Rowe! I have no supplies, and you won’t let me bring any in.”
“You aren’t wasting your own money on these men.”
“They deserve the chance to turn their lives around. Education can do that for them. Stop talking about them like they aren’t even humans.” Her cheeks went pink when she got mad. It was half the reason I enjoyed riling her up. Apparently, I was really pushing her buttons tonight because the apples of her cheeks were verging on red.
“If you’d seen their rap sheets, you’d realize that half of them aren’t,” I commented dryly.
She threw her hands up in the air. “Ugh! You’re impossible.”
So was she. Impossibly annoying. Impossibly compassionate. Impossibly beautiful.
I tapped my foot. “Let’s just get on with it. Your class starts in an hour.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I’m well aware. If you’d just back off and give me some room, perhaps I could get this done.”
I folded my arms across my chest and watched her pick through the ancient, outdated supplies. I already knew she wasn’t going to find what she was looking for. There were no stacks of matching textbooks or clean white writing pads. Definitely no MacBooks or whatever other sort of fancy learning technology she was probably used to having at her private school. But she was also impossibly stubborn and wasn’t going to listen to me. I’d already learned she had to do everything her goddamn self.
A siren cut through the air, loud and obnoxious.
Mae froze. “What does that alarm mean?” Worry flickered in her gaze. Her big eyes trained on me, waiting for answers.
Instinctively, I went to her side but held a hand up, signaling for silence, knowing I wouldn’t know what it meant either until the call came. “It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about—”
“Code thirty-three. West Wing, General Population. All officers assist.”
“That’s where Heath is!”
My blood ran cold. “No. That can’t be right.”
“What? What can’t be right? What’s code thirty-three?” Mae edged in, clutching at my arm.
I didn’t even have time to think about how close I was to her. I grabbed my walkie-talkie and hit the ‘speak’ button. “Colt? What’s happening in there?”
“Colt?” Mae whispered, while I waited for a response.
“He’s in West Wing Gen Pop tonight,” I muttered. “Shit, why isn’t he answering? Colt!”
My heart rate picked up.
She swallowed hard. “Tell me what code thirty-three means.”
I gazed down at her. “It means there’s a riot and the prisoners have taken control.”
I glanced around, taking in where we were, and mentally plotting out my next move.
I needed to go and help. But I couldn’t leave Mae.
She dropped the ancient pile of papers. “What does that mean? A riot in the whole prison? Or just in Gen Pop? Tori is in the infirmary!”
I shook my head. “What? Who’s Tori?”
“My best friend. She’s from the church. She’s there with a priest and—”
I gaped at her. “Seriously? How the hell did you get that approved? Fuck. It doesn’t matter now. I’ve no idea how widespread this is. And assuming in a situation like this isn’t smart. But the call said Gen Pop, so let’s not get carried away. She’s probably fine in the infirmary. Perry is down there, too. She knows this place better than I do. They’ll both be fine for now.” My brain worked overtime, assessing the danger and trying to come up with the best plan of attack. In the hallway outside, there was the thump and noise of running bodies. I just hoped they were guards and not prisoners.
“This is bad, right? Like really bad? What should I do? Should I leave? We aren’t far from the exit.”
She reached for the door, but I grabbed her arm. “No, stop. The main exits all automatically lock when that alarm is hit. No one in, no one out. Not until they get a riot squad in here. They can’t risk a prison break.”
“A prison break?” she squeaked.
I nodded. “Code thirty-three is a total lockdown.”
I finally focused on her properly. On the tremble in her fingers and her rapid breathing. I took her arms, steadying her. “Hey. You’ll be fine. It’ll probably be over in minutes. These things normally are.
”
Mae didn’t look convinced. There was a huge bang from somewhere deep in the prison, and she jumped a mile. “Heath and Colt are both in there. What if they’re hurt? Or worse?”
She didn’t have to ask those questions. I was already thinking them.
Another series of bangs and crashes erupted, and the distant echo of yelling. My blood ran cold. Gen Pop was on the other side of the prison. If this thing had been isolated, we shouldn’t have been able to hear anything.
They had the doors open and were moving freely about.
The alarm went off again, just as eerily piercing as the first one.
“Code thirty-three. Infirmary. All available officers assist.”
Mae’s fingers dug into my biceps. “No!” Her eyes were wild when she turned them on me. “Tori’s in there!”
“She’ll be okay.” But it sounded weak even to my own ears. I didn’t know Mae’s friend, but two women alone in the infirmary with an escalating riot wasn’t a good situation. Training and previous experience had taught me that the infirmary would be one of the first places inmates tried to take over. Any part of the prison that stocked things the prisoners would need to hole up in here for days or weeks on end would be the first places they sought out. The infirmary. The cafeteria. The guards’ offices. Drugs, food, and hostages. The three things most popular in a prison riot.
“No, she won’t be,” Mae yelled. “How many officers will be left to attend that call if they’re all in Gen Pop?”
I gazed down at her silently. Not willing to answer the question because I knew she wouldn’t like the answer.
“Dammit, Rowe! I’ve worked here long enough to know how short-staffed you are. There’s going to be no one to answer that call.”
I whirled on her. “I know, okay? I know! What do you want me to do? I can’t be in two places at once.”
She shoved me toward the door. “Go! Lock me in. I’ll be fine until you get back.”