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Jocelyn had been a very jealous woman where Quinten was concerned, regardless of how many lovers the woman had had.
The woman had hated Saige and from what she’d previously remembered, she must have hated Saige very much, because she’d been the woman on the side of the road when Saige had been taken.
Saige’s question was who had Jocelyn been involved with back then? Because there had definitely been someone else there that night.
* * *
2:30am
* * *
Alex was so screwed.
No matter what he’d said, he had no intention of ever fucking Christina, but last night he turned into someone else.
Hearing Christina’s confession had caused something inside of him to shift and instead of fucking her from behind like he usually did with women, he faced her and slowly rocked between her thighs. A combination of missing her, and having her gorgeous body beneath him, had caused his orgasm to crash through him more powerfully than it had in a long, long time.
She slept beside him, the curves of her nude body outlined in the moonlight from the window enticed him to start all over again, but in truth, after last night she scared him. He’d had a hard on for her years ago and he obviously still did. She wasn’t that much older than him, but realistically she was so far out of his league that he tried not to think about it. He’d used the excuse that she slept around, just like Jocelyn, to keep his pecker zipped in the end—except her sleeping around had been lies. Deep down, he’d known that then, and he knew it now.
As he caressed do
wn her side and over her hip with his hand, his heart leapt in his chest. He tried to calm himself before the panic could really well inside of him. The night would be all he’d allow with her.
Turning her onto her stomach, he tugged her bottom up into the air and spread her legs, his tongue waking her body…
* * *
10:30am
* * *
Saige had nerves in her belly that were caused by a mixture of fear and excitement as she waited beside Coulter to go through another security gate.
The thought of being locked inside the prison walls, never to have freedom, caused her breathing to hitch in her lungs. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
She turned and looked around them, even though there wasn’t much to see.
Coulter offered her a wry smile and squeezed her arm. “You okay?”
“Nervous.”
He nodded and led her through the door. “This part of the prison is a lot quieter. I think there’s only Quinten in this section right now,” Coulter tried to reassure her, but it didn’t work.
It made her realize that she walked close to where it would all end. She wanted to cry and wondered if she’d be able to hold it together until they left the dismal place.
“Peterson’s waiting for you,” a guard informed them as he opened a door at the end of the corridor.
Her steps faltered the closer she got to the door. Coulter entered first, and Saige slowly followed, keeping her head down.
Coulter wrapped an arm around her and ushered her into a chair. She couldn’t put it off any longer and lifted her head.
Quinten sat across the room with his eyes fixated on her with an intensity she knew that she’d only ever felt with him.
Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at him. His hair and beard had been trimmed. His shoulders and biceps filled out the orange t-shirt that spread across his chest. But her eyes kept moving back to his.
She wasn’t the only one with tears on her face and it hurt not being able to feel his arms around her, or to be able to offer him comfort—something that she didn’t think he’d had since the last time they were together.
“Ms. Lockwood.”
