by Ray, Marika
“I’m not normally a negative Nancy, but mark my words, Keva. Nothing good will come from having a prison right here on Brinestone Way. This road was built for local businesses, not a pathway for criminals to enter our quaint town. Mayor Bennett must have lost his damn mind when he approved that hunk of concrete and metal.”
I shook my head, then just as quickly clapped my hands to shake myself out of my temper. I needed to change the mood—fast—or I’d be sadder than George, the poor senior citizen sitting outside Coffee every morning like he did when his wife was still alive. He never hesitated to tell a story about her as if the telling of it would keep her alive. I guess it must have worked because he never failed to be there, rain or shine.
“Let’s get today going and forget all about criminals and wayward cats, shall we? What’s on the schedule?”
Keva grabbed the paper calendar book with all our appointments written in multicolored pen off the desk and scanned the day’s events. Technology was a fine thing, but not when it came to seeing what you had planned for the day. On her first day Keva had asked me if I planned to upgrade to a Google calendar we could share. I set her straight right then and there, telling her about the time I accidentally shared my calendar with the Poker Club of Auburn Hill instead of my mother, Polly Eureka. Those old men didn’t need to know about my gynecological appointment that Tuesday or the exact time I was to get my lip waxed, yet there it was in all its electronic glory for them to pick through at their leisure. I’d stick to pen and paper, thank you very much.
“Well, we have our first—”
Keva’s sweet voice was cut off by the bell above the door jingling and our resident mail carrier poking her lavender-dyed head inside. Normally I’d sit and chat with the woman, letting her gossip wash over me, oohing and aahing at the appropriate moments, but my patience was running thin. Blame it on the honking bus or the magic goat, either way, I was on a mission that morning to set my life back on its proper course. A gossip session would have to wait.
“Good morning, Poppy.” I moved around the desk and took the mail from her outstretched hand. “Come have a seat with Keva. I have a quick phone call to make.”
Poppy nodded enthusiastically, seeing the bright smile on poor Keva’s face. Poppy could spot a listening ear a mile away. As for me, I’d just told a bald-faced lie. Quite unlike me, especially since I actually liked Poppy, despite my mom’s poor opinion of her. Usually I only lied to spare someone’s feelings, not to get out of conversing with a neighbor. Being neighborly was what Hell was all about.
I shuffled down the hall, realizing belatedly I’d forgotten to collect my heels from under Keva’s desk. Lord knew I’d enjoy a morning without heels, but hopefully I wouldn’t tear a hole in my stockings just for a little blister relief. I’d gone down the back hallway where the treatment rooms were located, knowing the oil diffuser blend was almost out in the back room. It wouldn’t do to have the special libido diffuser stop right in the middle of whacking the wand. Total mood buster.
The door opened smoothly thanks to the WD-40 I sprayed on the hinges on a regular basis to keep them moving. We were all about the lubrication here. I smirked at my own humor—if you didn’t laugh at your own jokes, who would—and moved quickly into the room.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, coming to an abrupt stop and nearly wiping out on the slick floor with only my thin stockings to offer any traction. There in front of me, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, was a patient on the leather couch I’d personally picked out for comfortability.
But not just any patient. He had to have been the most gorgeous male specimen I’d ever laid eyes on. Now my whole body wanted to lie on him, like a cat in heat. My eyes traveled down his body, taking in every detail like I had all the time in the world. Thick dark hair I could practically see myself grabbing hold of by the handful, corded muscles bunching and flexing down his long arm. Legs spread wide and stretched out as if even the ample couch was child size in comparison. A jaw clenched tight, a vein in his neck bulging alarmingly. And there, enclosed in his fist, the longest, thickest, most lick-worthy—
I slammed my eyes shut and nearly gasped out loud. What was I doing spying on a patient in the middle of depositing a specimen? My mouth watered at the imprint on the back of my eyelids even as the rest of me went up in flames. Dear Lord, who was that and how could I back out of the room without him noticing me?
I peeked one eye open—for scouting purposes only, I assure you—and saw him still rubbing one out enthusiastically, completely unaware of my presence. Rather than ponder how to exit the room as quietly as I’d come in, instead I wondered what was he thinking about at that moment to cause his tongue to flick out and lick his lower lip? And why was the frenzied stroking motion so fascinating when every other time I’d seen a male engaged in masturbation it had seemed so clinical? I mean, you don’t open a fertility clinic without intimately knowing the ins and outs of the male anatomy, many times more informed than the men themselves.
The irony of my virgin status as a spank bank owner was not lost on me.
And for the first time, I viscerally understood how much I didn’t know about men. Because I’d never, ever, not once in my adult life, been turned on by the presence of a male penis. They spat out dollar signs and that was all I needed to know. At least, until now, when faced with what had to be a legend among penises.
A male moan split the air and my skin rose into goose bumps as if commanded by that low grumble. I needed air to cool my overheated skin, possibly hand sanitizer, and maybe even a brain replacement to rid me of the most delectable sight of my life. The logical part of my brain finally engaged and roared at me to leave immediately. I took my first step back, wobbling on legs that had gone Bambi on me when I needed them the most.
White teeth flashed a split second before they bit a perfect lower lip. My leg paused midair in its retreat, enthralled by the show playing out in front of me. He stiffened, the vein in his neck becoming two corded bands straining beyond what was healthy. The hand lost its rhythm, becoming jerky and unsteady even as hips lifted off the sofa cushions seeking more friction.
The volcano was about to blow and if I didn’t leave right that very minute, I would fall to my knees and let the lava burn me inside out as I swallowed it down having officially tossed all my morals out the window.
I blinked, spun on the ball of my foot, and ran like my life depended on it, which it did, professionally at least. I couldn’t be caught spying on clients as they left sperm deposits. Could you imagine the backlash? I’d be closed the first day social media got wind of my impropriety. Maybe even sued. The town I’d grown up in would label me a disgrace.
My feet didn’t stop until I’d locked myself into my own tiny office down the opposite hallway, ceiling fan on high. My leather chair creaked as I plopped down, a frazzled sweaty mess of hormones.
“Sweet Jesus, get a hold of yourself, Lucille.” I fanned my face with my hand, like that would really do anything to stem the fires of hell burning in my nether regions. The wool skirt, which had seemed like such a good choice this morning, became itchy and unbearable against my skin.
I heard footsteps outside my door, to which I held my breath and stared at the doorknob in horror. Did he see me leave the room? Was he coming to yell at me and shut down my clinic? Who was that stud of a man anyway?
When the footsteps receded, I finally let out the breath of air I’d been holding and slumped back against my seat, a warm deflated balloon of sagging skin and washed-up potential. Not in trouble. My secret was safe with me, forever burned into my brain where I’d think of it often, if only to keep me warm at night in my lonely bed.
As the relief set in, bringing my heart rate down into an acceptable zone, I began to smile, then chuckle out loud before I ramped up to hysterics. My eyes watered and my stomach muscles hurt from laughing so hard.
I, Lucille Eureka, had seen penises before.
I was pretty sure I’d final
ly seen a Cock.
That sucker needed to be capitalized. Might even need its own zip code.
My life was now divided into two eras: BC and AC. Before Cock and After Cock.
I needed to go visit that magical goat again. He was bringing in some interesting changes in my life, all of which I now wholeheartedly approved of. I mean, I felt like I was jumping off a bridge with a threadbare bungee cord, but the thrill of it all was zinging through my veins, addicting me to the shot of adrenaline.
And like a junkie, I needed more.
More adrenaline.
More Cock.
2
Bain
“Tell them to get it fixed before the ten o’clock bus gets here or I won’t pay them at all.” I slammed the phone down on my desk and stood up to pace my new office.
I’d been handed the ultimate job upgrade, the one I’d been working so diligently for, and I’d be damned if we had issues the first day the prison was receiving inmates. If the locks on the holding rooms weren’t working, we had a big problem on our hands. Unfortunately, as the new warden, any and all problems fell at my feet. Which was fine by me. I had no problem directing people and getting shit done. The more stress, the louder my voice got and the higher people jumped to do what I demanded.
I blew out a heavy breath and sat back down to get started on the emails filling up my inbox with an annoying little ping every goddamn time I turned around. I’d have to ask my secretary to turn that annoying shit off before I ran my fist through the thin monitor. As I pulled at my stiff shirt collar, a waft of that weird smell from the fertility clinic hit my nose and reminded me of my morning’s activities. It was like the clinic was clinging to me, embedded in my clothes and trying to tell my secret.
Jacking off outside of the closed confines of my house wasn’t a normal occurrence for me, but when your brother dares you, you kind of have to do it. Jayden and I had this dare thing running since we were kids. It started off innocent like daring the other to eat that earthworm. Over the years it had escalated to asking a girl out, bungee jumping, and finally, rubbing one out all in the name of science.
All in all, it hadn’t been too bad. I was disappointed in the lack of magazines at that place next door, and the peculiar scent clinging to every surface was a touch strange, but I’d been in and out in a matter of twenty minutes. The deed was done and the piece of paper on my desk verified it. Now I could get busy thinking of an even weirder dare for Jayden.
“Mr. Sutter?” My secretary poked her head in, a frown creasing her forehead. I’d hired the young girl and hoped for the best when only three people showed from the ad I placed in the local paper.
“What is it, Meadow?”
I didn’t want to be mean to her on our first official day working together, but she’d have to grow a backbone right quick or she’d never make it in this environment. I deleted several emails from people I didn’t want to deal with. If it was anything important, they’d email back.
“The locksmith says he’s fixed the locks. It was just a wire that—”
“Don’t care about the wire, Meadow. Just pay him and send him on his way.” The computer dinged again and it was all I could do not to take my irritation out on the poor girl quaking in my doorway.
“Y-yes, sir.”
The door clicked shut and I kept going through my emails, answering them one by one or deleting the downright aggravating ones. A different-sounding ding pulled my attention away from the screen and over to my cell phone. Jayden had texted me.
Jayden: Proof or it didn’t happen.
I snorted.
Bain: Calm down, little brother. Dropped the liquid gold off at the clinic first thing this morning.
Then I held up the receipt and took a picture with my phone and sent that to him also.
Jayden: Well shit. Guess there’ll be some little Bains running around this green earth shortly.
I frowned.
Bain: What do you mean? I thought I was donating for science?
Jayden: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? They use those samples for women trying to get pregnant, dumbass!
Bain: Dude, I know. I’m just yanking your chain. Get it? Yanking your chain?
Jayden: Real freaking funny. You should be a comedian instead of a warden.
Bain: Fuck that. I get off on yelling at people. Get it? Get off…?
Jayden: Goodbye, Bain.
Meadow cracked open my door again, nearly catching my smile. I dropped the grin and the paper with my secret deposit. I needed to lock that thing away before anyone saw it and started questioning me about my medical habits. Next thing you know, there’d be a rumor that the new guy in town had a low sperm count and needed to get his load tested. That’s not the way to win the hearts and bodies of the single ladies.
“What’s up?”
The forehead crease was back. “There’s a scuffle going on with a new detainee and Bobby asked for your assistance.”
I fought hard to contain the eye roll I wanted to unleash at that news. Of course Bobby wanted my assistance. He’d probably need my assistance taking a shit if I didn’t lay down some tougher ground rules as soon as possible. The problem with opening a prison in a little town was you didn’t exactly have a large pool of applicants. Meaning you ended up hiring to fill spots, not because the applicant was particularly qualified for the job. Bobby meant well, but most of the food he ate fed that belly of his, not his brain.
I closed out what was left of my email inbox and followed Meadow out the door and down the hall. Ignoring the slower-than-molasses elevator, I bounded down the metal staircase and headed in the direction of the raised voices.
Entering the booking room greeted me with a sight I wouldn’t soon forget. Bobby had a guy’s hand in both of his, struggling mightily to get that damn index finger with the tip blackened from the ink pad onto the piece of paper. Our electronic fingerprint system was still being worked on and wouldn’t be up and running until tomorrow. In the meantime, we had to do it by hand. Literally.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” The guy, dressed in baggy jeans with suspenders and no shirt, dug his sandaled heels in and slid across the floor as Bobby hauled him back to the counter to deposit his fingerprint. “It’s a free country!”
“What’s going on here?” I barked, hands on hips.
Both men froze, the guy’s inked finger poised perfectly in the air. The silence lasted only a split second before they both started talking at once.
“Stop!” Silence again. “Bobby, I’ll start with you. What the hell’s going on?”
Bobby yanked on the guy’s hand and used that index finger to point at me. “This guy thinks he’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to be arrested. I told him that’s not for us to decide. Take it to the judge.”
“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong!” The guy couldn’t contain himself, so I turned to him next.
“What were you arrested for?”
He pulled himself up tall, like that would make me take him seriously when he had no shirt on and his grammatically incorrect chest tattoo—Gone Fishi’n—was staring me in the face.
“I was panning for gold, which we’re still allowed to do here in the great state of California. Sheriff came up and arrested me for stealing. That hunk of gold didn’t have anybody’s name on it, so in my thinkin’ it’s all mine.”
“Boss, he stole the damn nugget on the Welcome to Auburn Hill sign.”
With that extra information, my lips quirked up and there was nothing I could do to stop it. You see a lot of things as a correctional officer, and while most of it is scary and depressing, this one was a breath of fresh air.
I dropped my head to collect my smirk and then looked back at the detainee with a straight face. “You know that rock on the welcome sign isn’t real gold, right?”
He squinted at me like the wheels in his head were finally turning. Slowly.
“You didn’t happen to spray-paint over the town name too, did you?”
Figure
d I might get him owning up to everything while I was at it. Pretty much every month that damn welcome sign got spray-painted by mystery vandals. They crossed out Auburn Hill and wrote HELL in capital letters. The sheriff had told me just the other day they’d installed cameras and human surveillance, but never caught the guy. Some thought it was the kids at the high school having some fun. Others didn’t even care because they’d all adopted the name Hell for the town anyway. Might as well make it official. Mayor Bennett, on the other hand, was none too pleased with the spray-painting vandal or anyone using the name Hell when referring to his fine town. Guess it’s a hard sell to get businesses to move their enterprises to Hell, California.
The guy shook his head and ran his free hand—the one not currently commandeered by Bobby who used his preoccupation to continue fingerprinting—through his receding hairline.
“Damn. You mean to tell me that ain’t real? Well, shoot. There go my big plans. But I didn’t paint no sign. That thing was already painted when I came by. Didn’t see who did it, but it wasn’t me. You gotta believe me.”
I nodded. “Oh, I do. I’m sure it would have been spelled wrong.”
His eyes scrunched together again and I knew those squeaky wheels wouldn’t be able to figure that one out.
“Finish your fingerprinting and then we’ll see about you getting in front of a judge as soon as possible. But don’t add resisting arrest to your record, huh?”
He shook his head vigorously, making Bobby grunt with the effort of keeping him still enough to get quality fingerprints. “Well, no, sir.”
I nodded, satisfied the situation was under control. I walked out of the booking room and into the hall where one of the senior guards I’d hired from San Jose looked on in amusement. He must have seen the whole thing happen.
“What the hell kind of town is this?” He chuckled and walked with me, hands on his utility belt.