Prison Fling Page 9

  “Oh um.” The girl blushed even harder. Laney was being extra shy today. Was she embarrassed about what we had done last week? Or was it something else? It was almost like she was holding back, trying to keep her distance. Maybe she was embarrassed, shy, or even scared for some reason. After all, I was an inmate, a real-life convicted felon. That’d be enough to put anyone on edge.

  “It’ll only take twenty minutes,” I said smoothly, already rummaging through the fridge for some ingredients. “Do you cook?” I asked in a more casual tone, trying to help her unwind. The female was much too tense, her nerves almost palpable.

  She nodded but didn’t say much.

  “What’s your favorite food?” came my drawl. That was an easy question. Surely, she’d open up now.

  “Pizza,” the girl admitted with a shy smile. “With lots of veggies as toppings.”

  “Perfect,” I rumbled. “Because that’s exactly what I’m making. Do you like spinach as well?”

  “Love it.”

  “Then it seems like we have similar tastes,” came my low, reassuring growl.

  And shit, this was like a date. I felt like I was entertaining a female guest, someone that I wanted to impress even though all I had was this shitty prison kitchen and my hands. But you’ve gotta make the best of the situation, so I rolled out the dough like a master.

  “It’s really not all that hard to cook,” came my rumble. “I used to think that it was a waste of time, but it’s actually pretty fun. Way back when, I had a kitchen fit for a master, and never stepped foot inside,” was my ironic drawl.

  She nodded, smiling a bit.

  “I bet a lot of things have changed for you since coming to San Nemo.”

  And surprisingly, we made easy chit chat, working away in the kitchen. Laney put her purse on the table before beginning to chop veggies. Delicately, the girl sliced and diced, handling everything with care and poise. Wow. Even doing the most normal things, the girl was sexy. How I’d love to get down with her, right here, right now.

  But she was opening up, slowly but surely, and the time wasn’t right. It’d come around soon enough, but not at the present moment.

  “You could say that life’s changed since arriving at the San Nemo,” I rumbled, spreading the sauce along the surface of the dough. “But not all of it is bad. You’d be surprised at how much you can learn here.”

  She nodded, expression thoughtful.

  “I’ve already learned so much myself,” were her soft words, meeting my eyes fully then. “So much more than I hoped.”

  Aw fuck. Was she telling me that she loved getting her pussy licked? Good, because it’ll come again, sweetheart. Just you wait.

  But I wanted to know more about the girl, what made her laugh, what made her tick, what made her happy and sad, so I forced myself to stay on course.

  “So tell me about yourself,” was my command. Our gazes met intently, something stirring deep inside. “Tell me about you this time around. You already know so much about me.”

  She flushed.

  “W-What do you want to know, Mr. Evercore?”

  My brows quirked.

  “Anything, sweetheart. Tell me anything you like.” Those tiny fingers laid out tomato slices on the pizza, deft and sure. And oh shit, but the female was leaning over slightly, tits nearly spilling out of her blouse.

  My body hardened, unable to resist the call. God. I wanted to remain civil, letting her chat a bit about the things that mattered. But shit, this was difficult. If only she could see how she looked, giant rump round and luscious, those big boobs out as she walked around the kitchen.

  But Laney had no idea. Eyes still on the pizza, she began.

  “Well, as you know, I’m a journalist,” she said softly. “I like to write. My passion is fiction, but writing for the newspaper pays the bills.”

  I laughed, white teeth flashing.

  “Of course sweetheart. We all have to pay the bills, even me while I’m in prison,” was my remark. Her eyes flashed my way, but it was true. Jail doesn’t stop the bills. I had my apartment in New York to maintain, plus a shitload of other properties and businesses. And of course the tax man. There’s always the tax man.

  But this wasn’t about me, it was about her. So I pressed gently.

  “Well if if fiction is your passion, what’s your ultimate dream? Can’t be working for the Star.”

  Laney thought about it for a minute, brow furrowed.

  “I guess it would be to become someone’s favorite author,” was her soft admission.

  I nodded approvingly. Most writers I knew were so snooty. All they wanted was fame and fortune and making the NY Times bestsellers list, but Laney was different. It wasn’t about prestige or money, but the honor of changing someone’s life with words. I respected that.

  “So what are you doing to make it happen?” came my drawl, eyes quizzical as I laid out some more pizza dough. “You writing on the side?”

  She swallowed looking down.

  “No, not really. There isn’t that much time between work and coming here,” she blushed. “Plus, I’m not the kind of go-getter who would find an agent and put herself out there, you know?”

  My brows raised.

  “Sweetheart, where there’s a will there’s a way,” was my drawl. “And you know what? I’d love to read some of your work sometime.”

  Her eyes widened as a blush covered her cheeks.

  “Oh no,” she stammered. “It’s really sappy, you wouldn’t want to.”

  “Sappy?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow in question. “Like how sappy?”

  That blush grew fiery red.

  “Well, I usually write romance,” she admitted in a small voice. “You know, boy meets girl, they encounter obstacles, and then fall in love. That kind of thing.”

  I laughed then, but it wasn’t mean laughter. Because my curiosity was piqued. My little Laney wrote romance, huh? Did she keep her writing clean or were there steamy erotic scenes? And as I watched, those cheeks flared an even deeper shade of red, hot and beautiful. Oh fuck yeah. Laney was writing triple X shit, the naughtiest of the naughty. She had a dirty mind, and this was where it all came out.

  “I’m sure your stuff is good,” came my throaty rumble. “You know, I’ve heard that writers always draw on experience. Do you think that’s true when you write?”

  She bit her bottom lip, going even rosier if possible.

  “Well, um….”

  “You don’t have to tell me, of course. I’m just curious.”

  “Mis-Mister Evercore, I don’t have much experience,” she stammered, big boobies rising. And oh yeah, those tips were hard now, jutting out like pebbles. “You know that,” she whispered.

  “I do,” was my confident rumble. “But sweetheart, there’s always room to learn.”

  She blushed even more then. But then Laney took a deep breath, meeting my gaze fully.

  “Why Mason?” the girl asked softly, bringing big brown eyes to mine. “Why?”

  “Hmm sweetheart? Why what?” I was genuinely confused.

  The brunette took a deep breath.

  “Why are you so interested in me? I’m nothing special,” she murmured, ducking her head so that a lock of hair fell forwards, obscuring that beautiful face.

  I reached across the table and tilted her chin so she was forced to look at me. “Don’t say that.” My voice was firm and unwavering. “You’re special and anyone who tells you differently doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about. I’ve known you for three weeks now and it’s not hard to figure out that you’re one hell of a girl, both inside and out.”

  Usually, I wasn’t one for such sappy compliments, but it was true. Laney was an incredible woman, a beauty just beginning to come out of her shell.

  But she shook her head, disbelieving.

  “No, that’s not true,” were her soft words, eyes cast down. “I know it’s not true.”

  What the hell? What was the source of this low self-esteem? Any
one with two eyes could see that she was amazing.

  “What’s wrong sweetheart?” I demanded, sitting so close to her now that I could smell her vanilla-scented perfume. “Why are you so down on yourself?” Her perfume nice, but not as nice as the smell of her pussy. Now that shit was good.

  Laney didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at me with those great big eyes, tugging on one of her curls.

  “You can tell me,” came my low, deep growl. Since no one was around, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. Instinctively, she laid her head on my chest and closed her eyes, body shaking with a quivering breath. “You can tell me,” I murmured into her hair once more.

  “It’s just that when I was younger, I used to get teased all the time,” came her soft admission.

  “Teased for what?” I asked casually, rubbing her shoulder. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Everyone gets teased.”

  A pregnant pause, the girl inhaling deeply.

  “Well, I was teased for being big,” the words barely came out. She found my hand and held it tight, our fingers locking together. My sense as an alpha took over when I realized how vulnerable she made herself by telling me this. She trusted me and it was my job to preserve that trust. To make her feel safe no matter what. I held her a little tighter, edging that round form close until she was practically in my lap.

  “What did they say?” I growled low and comforting. These memories were probably difficult to share, but at the same time, bottling them up inside would do no good. She needed to get this off her chest. Only then would she truly bloom as a confident young woman.

  And taking a shaky breath, Laney began.

  “The girls at school were the worst. They would constantly taunt me. Most days, I dreaded going to class because it would mean facing my bullies. I hated it. My parents, however, didn’t care. So day by day, I had to put up with the name-calling and snide comments. I never raised my hand in class, because if I did, it was social suicide.”

  She paused, voice wavering.

  “Shhh, sweetheart,” I growled, stroking her back. “It’s okay, you don’t have to continue. I can tell this is hard for you.” The brunette was practically in my lap at this point, trembling like a doe. Fuck those women. Fuck those teen girls. They were harpies and idiots, combining the worst of both worlds. I’d strangle the nitwits myself if I could.

  “Go on, sweetheart,” came my soothing voice. “What else?”

  Laney swallowed, choking a bit on the memories.

  “Th-there was this one time in gym class,” she muttered, squeezing my hand so hard now that it hurt. “Someone threw a ball at me, and instead falling to the floor, it bounced off my chest.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can still hear them laughing because from that day on, everyone started calling me ‘Bowling Ball.’ It was so humiliating.” She choked back sobs, whole body shaking.

  I growled, anger bubbling inside my chest. Fuck those people. Fuck them all to hell.

  “Laney.” I turned her around so she could look at me. Gently, I wiped away her tears before I cupped her cheeks in my palms, thumbs rubbing against her skin.

  Her sobs quelled, brown eyes searching mine.

  “Don’t listen to them. They were all fucking jealous. They were trying to put you down because you were round and bouncy. And you know what? I fucking love round and bouncy. I fucking love your curves,” came my possessive growl, pulling her closer. “There’s nothing wrong with being lush and thick. Trust me, no guy likes the skeletal models you see on TV, they’re freakin’ disgusting.”

  I kissed the top of her head then.

  “And if you don’t believe me,” came my raspy growl, “look what I’ve got. Sweetheart, would I have kept these if you weren’t as sexy as fuck?”

  Her eyes widened at the dirty panties dangling from my finger.

  “I was wondering where those were,” she breathed, titillated and aroused at once. “Oh god.”

  My eyes darkened.

  “That’s right sweetheart, they’re mine now,” I whispered throatily. “All mine.”

  Just then the oven dinged, breaking our trance.

  Levering my huge form up, I got up from the counter and took the pizza out, setting it out on the counter. Fuck, it smelled good, tangy red sauce combined with the smooth slide of creamy mozzarella.

  Laney was by my side in an instant, her body practically pressed against mine. It seemed my little pep talk had washed away her shyness. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  “That looks so good,” she whispered, licking her lips.

  But I couldn’t resist anymore. She was too beautiful, giving and sweet. Shit, this little girl had me by the balls from the get-go, ever since that first day in the library. And I needed to take and control, without any further delay.

  “Not as good as you,” was my throaty rasp. And with that, I turned, grabbing those lush hips and pushing her against the counter. Our lips collided in a fiery explosion. My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling as she mewled with delight and agony.

  I was just about to get real when the thud of heavy footsteps interrupted. Fuck fuck fuck! Quickly, my hands pushed that curvy form away and started slicing the pizza as a warden walked by. Eyes suspicious, he nodded at Laney before clomping off once more.

  But the spell had been broken. We’d been teetering on the edge of a hot session before that fucker came by. Besides, I didn’t want my girl to starve. So instead, I served the pizza, plonking slices onto a couple plates before striding to the table.

  The brunette sat down beside me.

  “Where did you learn to cook, Mason?” she asked softly. “This is real good,” was her compliment, eyes closing as she bit into a steaming piece of pie.

  I watched for a moment, entranced. Fuck, the girl was beautiful the way she reveled in food. But right. Cooking. Pizza.

  “Kind of just learned as I went along. I obviously couldn’t eat the shit in the cafeteria so there wasn’t much choice.” I pointed to a small, rickety-looking bookcase. “There are some recipe books in there, but they’re pretty useless if you want to make anything decent.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, cookbooks have never really helped me either. I just like to experiment, put ingredients together, and see what happens. It helps that I don’t have to cook for anyone because sometimes my dishes turn out pretty bad,” she said wryly.

  I laughed. “You and me both.” I was surprised by how comfortable we were both getting with each other. It was almost as if we’d known each other our entire lives instead of three short weeks. “So if you become someone’s favorite author, then what?” I asked, keeping the conversation light.

  She nibbled thoughtfully on a slice of pizza.

  “Well, I want to be an author, but I always wanted to have a family as well. I guess you could say that’s another one of my big life goals,” she confessed shyly. “But when I do, I want the works. You know, with a nice house, loving husband, and the white picket fence so the dog can run around with the kids.” Her cheeks had turned bright red once more. “I know this must seem so small-town to you since you’re a billionaire from NYC with a business empire.”

  Suddenly, the girl choked, eyes flushing red.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking away. “I mean ….”

  But no worries. I liked that she knew. I liked that she’d googled my name, trying to figure out everything.

  “No worries, sweetheart,” I drawled, taking another big bite of pizza. “I’m used to it. Most people here know who I am and where I’m from as well,” was my amused drawl. “They say it’s the scent of money. It followed me even to jail.”

  She gulped again, eyes wide.

  “I just mean,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I just meant that I’m sorry. It wasn’t right of me to go snooping around. I was just curious, you know. You were so different from all the other inmates because even here,” she said gesturing to our surroundings, “you act as if you own the whole world. I had to know who you really a
re.”

  I leaned forwards then, lips trailing along the side of her neck, leaving a faint trail of kisses.

  “And now that you do, what do you think?”

  “I --,” was her breathy murmur.

  When Laney didn’t answer, I bit the side of her neck, leaving a mark. I wanted to make sure that when she left this place, everyone would know what had happened.

  A soft moan escaped her lips. “Oh Mason…”

  Shit.

  If she kept it up, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself and the pizza would go to waste.

  Eventually, however, I pulled away, taking her hands in mine. Holy fuck, this was insane. I never talk to women I sleep with. It’s just the way things are, I don’t like mixing sex with conversation. So this was incredible, the way I was letting loose with flying lips, listening to her while giving advice.

  “Sweetheart, I’ll be honest with you. You’re amazing, with the way you think. Volunteering here, wanting a career and a family. It’s all good how you’ve balanced it. But,” my voice lowered, “in order to have kids, you can’t be a virgin.”

  “What?” she stammered, cheeks flushing again, eyes curiously bright. “Wh-what? Oh, I know.”

  I chuckled deep in my throat.

  “Sweetheart, I licked your hymen last time we were together. Yeah, I snaked my tongue up into that sweet pussy and tasted where no man’s ever been. But let me change that. Let me show you what you’re missing, sweetheart. I promise you’ll love it.”

  Oh fuck. What was I doing, even asking? The old Mason would have had her on the floor in a sec, bumping and grinding like a horny dog. But this was the new me. This woman brought out something inside that wanted to caress and cherish, in addition to making her feel good.

  Laney paused for a moment, eyes wide, trembling with both anticipation and nerves.

  “But Mr. Evercore,” she began on a whisper. “Wh-what about the newspaper? What about the article we’re supposed to write together?”

  Please, sweetheart. That’s the least of my worries. We’ll bust out a five thousand word feature in no time. Just let me taste your pussy first, let me make those sweet folds pulse and clench like they never have before.