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My jeans tighten as my cock only gets harder at the sight.
“You have one hour,” the guard announces, before he slams the door behind him. We both listen to the key turn in the lock, and then Ashley crosses the room, her high heels clacking on the floor.
I can’t help it. I watch her legs move, drawn by the smooth flow of her calf muscles, not to mention the glimpse of her ass as she turns around to settled herself onto the far side of the twin bed—as far from me as she can possibly sit, I can’t help but notice. “I must have done something right to deserve a second visit from you,” I comment.
She rolls her eyes. “I came because I had to, Tell. You didn’t give me anything last time. This time, you’re going to tell me where the money is.”
“That so?” I lift a brow. “What’s my incentive, exactly?”
‘“You seem like you’re enjoying yourself already,” she points out, with a pointed look at my crotch.
I shift closer to her, letting the hard bulge in my jeans show blatantly. “If you think wearing a tight, sexy little skirt is enough to get me talking, then you must not know many hardened criminals, Ms. Marrón. Going to take a lot more than that to get my lips moving.”
“Is it?” She shrugs one shoulder, the very picture of feigned nonchalance. “I think you’re going to tell me what I want to know, Mr. Tell.”
“And what makes you think that, Ms. Marrón?”
“Because you’ve had enough time in this prison to think about how you like it. Or how much worse we can make things for you if we get you transferred to solitary, at any rate.”
I clench my fists to avoid responding. She’s right, of course. Solitary here, from everything I’ve heard, is a living nightmare. If I think the lights are dim and the food is shitty up in main, I have no idea what I’m bitching about. Down in solitary, I hear the cockroaches are so common the chefs just started counting them as part of the meal—the protein portion.
But Ashley has tried this line of threats already. I don’t buy it.
“You can’t just negotiate on the same terms that you already failed on last time,” I tell her.
Her cheeks flush a little, but that’s her only giveaway that she’s annoyed. Otherwise her expression remains impassive. “You’re going to tell me where the money is, Damon.”
“I’d be happy to.” I slide closer to her across the twin bed. She doesn’t move back, but rather leans toward me. If I’m not mistaken, her eyes dart to my lips for a second before she regains control of herself.
She wants me. As much as I want her, I’m sure.
This is going to be fun.
“You’ll cooperate then?” she says.
“Of course. As long as you do as well.”
She frowns, sensing the catch. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll tell you the secrets you want to know, as long as you tell me some of your secrets first.”
For a moment, she’s silent. I can practically see the calculations spinning through her mind. She’s trying to figure out if this is a trick, if there’s a catch she’s not seeing. But she can’t work it out, so eventually she just nods once, firm. “All right. What do you want to know?”
I tilt my head and size her up, my eyes lingering on her waist this time. She’s definitely not wearing a bra, but is she wearing anything else under there? “First secret—did you follow my final request from our last meeting?” I lock eyes with her again, and savor the spark of nerves in her big brown eyes. “Are you wearing panties, Ashely?”
In response, Ashley surges to her feet and spins around to stand in front of me. She’s just a few inches from my face, and I can already imagine how she’d taste—exactly the way those panties of hers smelled, sweet and savory all at once.
To my surprise, though, Ashley grabs the hem of her skirt and lifts it up.
She’s naked.
If I got any harder right now, I swear I’d burst a seam in these jeans. It’s all I can do not to grab her right now, pull her down onto this bed and fuck her senseless. Her pussy is right there, inches from my hungry mouth, clean-shaven and, to judge by the faint gleam at her lips, wet and ready for me. She’s enjoying this too.
“I followed your request, sweetie.” Now she’s the one smirking, and fuck, I like it. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
I grin right back. Fucking hell. I’ve never met a girl quite like her. But she’s going to get herself into trouble, playing with fire like this. “Daddy didn’t teach you how to scheme the way he does, did he?” I murmur. “You shouldn’t show all your cards, Ashley, not this early in the game.”
Her eyes narrow at the mention of her father, and she lets go of the hem of her skirt, letting it fall back down around her thighs. “My father taught me how to negotiate just fine, thank you very much.”
“Not like he does,” I interrupt. “Not the same cutthroat, take no prisoners, kill anyone in your path style.”
“My father doesn’t kill anybody,” she replies, voice so secure and haughty that it actually makes me burst into laughter. She blinks, startled, and I realize she actually believes that.
“You don’t know your father half as well as you think you do, Ashley,” I murmur.
She narrows her eyes. “I should think of the two of us, one of us knows him much better than the other. Now stop stalling. You owe me a secret, Damon Tell.”
“That I do. But we didn’t specify what secret. So I’ll tell you this one voluntarily—I’m not in here for the reasons you think I am.”
She scoffs. “Right. You’re innocent. Just like every other thug Dad has hired who stabbed him in the back the second they had the chance.”
“I never said I was innocent,” I interrupt. “But if you think your father has never stabbed any of his people in the back either, then you’re more naive than I thought.”
“That’s your secret, then? ‘I’m not in here for the reasons you think?’ That doesn’t tell me anything, Damon. If you’re going to cheat, there’s no point to this game.” She spins around, about to walk toward the door.
On instinct, I grab her waist. Pull her backward. She falls onto my lap, and for a second, we both freeze, as her full, muscular ass rubs against my cock, still bulging against the zipper of my jeans.
Then she gasps and pushes back to her feet, off of me.
“I’m not cheating,” I say before she can say anything else. Before she can run again. “You need to set ground rules. You need to tell the other person you’re negotiating with exactly what you’re willing to trade and for what.” I push to my feet, and I don’t miss the way her throat catches or her pupils dilate as she gazes up at me, mouth parted, expression torn between anger and lust. I know that feeling. It’s the same one I’m feeling right now. I want to rip that tight little skirt off her and fuck her until she screams. But at the same time, I know how dangerous that is. How dangerous she is.
I need to follow my own advice and set ground rules for this game.
“For example,” I tell her, “I will give you a hint about where the money is located—a hint only—if you can keep yourself from begging me to make you come.”
There’s a pause, and I watch her breath catch again thinking about it. I know she’s every inch as turned on as I am. I plan to use that to my advantage.
“Wh-what are you going to do to try to make me? Beg, I mean,” she adds, and she almost manages to hide the sexy catch in her voice. Almost.
“Tongue and fingers only,” I tell her. Then my mouth quirks into a half smile. “This time, anyway.”
Her eyes narrow. “If I win, there won’t be a next time.”
“Maybe.” My eyes search hers. Find the same white-hot lust in them that burns in my own. “Or maybe I’ll get you addicted. Maybe you’ll be back for more, and succumb to me again and again, because you can’t stop yourself from begging for release.”
That does it. The dare is enough to push her over the edge into doing something she might regret. And fuck am
I glad for it.
Ashley sidesteps me, drops back onto the bed and lies back across it. Then she hikes up her skirt once more, baring that tight, gorgeous, wet little pussy to the world. “You talk a big game, Damon. Let’s see how well you play it.”
“Spread your legs.”
Ashley Marrón does as she’s told. She spreads her legs wide enough for me to see that she’s shaved her pussy lips too, and there’s a little pearl of moisture collecting on the edge of them, just below the entrance to her pussy. Fucking hell, I want to fuck her. The way she glares up at me, equal parts defiant and turned on, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Well, maybe next to the tight-as-hell outfit she’s wearing, and the panties she isn’t.
