Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
He’s in there, I think as I pull into the parking lot. In there somewhere…waiting for me.
I have to admit, something about that turns me on even more. The man I’m coming to see being held in such a place. What could such a dangerous man have in store for me?
I get out of the car, trying every relaxation technique I know to slow my rapid heartbeat (and none of them working), and begin to walk toward the sign labeled Visitors. I hear a whistle from my left and turn, and it’s then that I see them.
Prisoners. Men. Lined up by the fence or walking up to it, their eyes all locked on me like hungry dogs staring at a steak. Eyes wide, jaws loose, some of their tongues out and practically wagging, they stare at me like I’m the first woman they’ve seen in months – years. And for some of them, maybe I am.
They call out at me, “Hey, baby,” and “Yo, sweet thing,” and other things along those lines as I walk to the thick metal door where a guard stands.
“Ignore them,” he tells me. “They’re animals.”
In my profession, you learn to keep your cool pretty quickly, but even I’m thrown off right now and fumble as I get my I.D. out of my purse to show to him. He glances at it, back at me, then down at his clipboard and nods.
“You’re on the list.” He glances back through the fence to another man behind him and shouts, “Bernie! Let ‘er in!”
There’s a loud, almost-deafening electronic buzz, and the man opens the door for me.
“Um, thanks,” I say as I step through and walk past the men, who are now hollering at me, to Bernie, who holds another door open for me to let me into the prison.
From there, it’s a lengthy process of more guards checking me in, inspecting me and my purse to make sure I’m not trying to smuggle in any contraband before I’m finally let out into a side yard containing five trailers set in a row. The guard with me points to the second one.
“He’s in there,” he tells me.
“Thank you.” I start to walk over to it, but before I can, I feel his hand close around my arm and pull me back.
“Listen,” he says quietly. “He’s no sweetheart, all right? He’s a dangerous man. Murderer. You watch out for yourself, okay?”
“He won’t hurt me,” I reply. The guard looks at me like I’m crazy.
“It’s your ass, lady.”
But he lets me go, and I begin walking over to the trailer. I take a deep breath but do my best to hide it so he can’t see it.
This is it, I think.
After all those letters, all that time pursuing me, I’m finally going to meet the man. Slowly, I place one foot after the other up the steps until I reach the top, then reach out and take the doorknob in my hand. But just as I’m about to turn it, it twists on its own, and the door opens to reveal Bain standing there looking down at me.
“You came.” He smiles, his eyes are filled with an obvious delight that hits me instantly, going straight to my core like a penetrating energy I’ve never felt in my life.
“I…” My God, I don’t even know what to say, so I just keep it simple. “Yes, I did.”
He’s even more handsome than I remember. Somehow being in prison has enhanced his good looks. He’s in even better shape than he was during the trial, and he’s more rugged and tough-looking than he was before.
I suddenly have the urge to simply undress for him and show him everything – even after all the work I put into my outfit. My nipples harden with arousal, and I’m sure he can tell because the bra I’m wearing is lace and does nothing to support me.
He’s wearing a simple white tank top with a pair of prison-issue pants made from dark blue cloth. Whatever shoes he normally wears he’s taken off and stands before me barefoot.
“It’s not the Four Seasons.” He grins. “But come on in.”
With an exaggerated flourish of his arm, Bain holds the door for me while I enter the dingy little trailer. I hide my smile as I get a funny feeling in my belly and keep my best “lawyer face” on as I turn around to face him.
“Better than a prison cell, though,” I say.
“You got that right,” he replies. “I also called in a favor and had the whole place cleaned before today.”
“A favor.” I nod, raising my eyebrows. “You’re making friends here, huh?”
“I’ve still got friends on the outside.” He grins. “They’ll still pull a few strings for me from time to time. But we don’t need to talk about that. I’m just glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would after you never responded to any of my letters.”