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Lace smiles, a small, sweet smile that makes me weak at the knees. She rests both of her hands on my chest and pushes me back gently, until I’m sitting on the bed again.
“We’re past that,” she murmurs in my ear, and the warmth of her lips sends a shiver of desire down my spine. She pushes me down onto the mattress, slender legs straddling me. Heat rises to my skin as my body reacts to hers, hips moving up to meet her. Lace bows her head, blond hair tickling my face as she rests soft lips on my forehead, cheek, then finally, my lips.
A sensation that I’ve never experienced before washes over me, wrapping me in a warm blanket of absolute lust and desire. Lace slips her tongue between my lips, and I take her easily, hopefully,hungrily.
“Have you always been attracted to women?” she asks quietly, dotting kisses up and down my neck. I close my eyes to breathe in her scent, and my whole body relaxes.
“Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do in prison?” I whisper. “Fuck?”
It’s probably not the sexiest thing Lace has ever heard, but at this very moment I don’t really care. She’s beautiful. Sexy. Sweet.
Why not?
Lace’s fingers grip the zipper on my hooded sweatshirt and tug, pulling the zipper down and apart until only my white tank top is exposed. Then, her lips still resting on mine, one soft hand slips under the shirt, fingers kneading my breast. My hips explode in desire, and I push my body up once more, grinding against Lace, savoring the warmth of her contact.
“Are you wet for me?” Her free hand reaches for the string on my pants, tugging at the knot until it comes loose. I suck my lip between my teeth and bite it to keep from crying out. Expertly, Lace shimmies the pants off my hips, pulling them down until she can slip them off and toss them aside. When she straddles me again, the need for her comes in full force, and I can barely hold back a whimper.
“Most women come in here are straight as an arrow,” Lace whispers in my ear, her warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “But they leave as whatever they want, regardless of what society thinks or says.” She bites my ear, hard, but it only pumps the adrenaline even faster through my veins. I close my eyes and thrust my hips up to meet hers, grinding my body, unable to get enough of her. Lace’s free hand slips down my abdomen, fingers teasing my clit. I groan aloud, something a man has never been able to make me do.
“Just let it happen,” whispers Lace.
And so I do.
Later, we lay together in my cell, arms around the other one as Lace stares into my eyes. Her own are so beautiful, so blue, like the sky on the brightest of days, a portal to the deepest happiness a person can experience.
“Why are you here?” she asks after a few moments of silence. It’s not accusatory, not rude, just curious. For a second I don’t know what to say, or better yet, how to say it. Nobody knows the truth yet, just Julie and me. But as I stare back into Lace’s beautiful face, I find that I want to tell her. I want to tell her everything, and then some. She has that quality about her, the same quality that has kept me so far from ratting on my sister.
“It was my brother-in-law,” I say to Lace. “My sister Julie’s husband.”
“What happened?”
“He died. Today in fact.”
Lace falls quiet, but only for a moment. “How?”
I take another deep breath and look away from her, at the wall instead. “He was hit by a car. After he beat my sister to a bloody mess.”
Lace catches her breath, but she doesn’t release me. She doesn’t even recoil. Instead, she waits for me to go on, silent.
“The car belonged to my sister.”
“She hit him?” Lace asks, sitting up. “She hit him with her car?”
“Yes.”
“Because he was beating her?”
“Yes.”
Lace takes my face between her hands, forcing me to face her. “What does that have to do with you?”
I clear my throat as a sob wells in my throat. “I took the fall.”
“You … what?”
“I took the fall for Julie.”
Lace’s hands drop from my face, but her gaze holds mine. I wait for her to get up and leave, or roll her eyes and tell me what an idiot I am. But she doesn’t do either of those things.
