Chapter 5
Cantiville Prison
Evie
The second time I drove through the gates of Cantiville prison, I felt far less nervous than the first. I also had a mission. With today’s menu, I was going to practice making the strawberry cake I was going to bake for Angel.
I was told that it was the favorite of the man whom the party was being thrown for. Making it for the inmates today would kill two birds with one stone. I’d be able to practice the dessert without cost to me, and the men would be able to eat a delicious cake! In my book, that was the best of both worlds. And who knew, if this went well, I might even consider signing up for another few weeks of lessons alongside Bobby.
Walking into the prison, I stopped at the front desk and Becker checked me in. Knowing the process already, it was quick and relatively painless.
“What are you making today, Teach?” Garrity, the guard I was fairly certain was sweet on Bobby, asked with a toothy grin.
Picking up my purse, I slung it over my shoulder. “A fresh strawberry and cream cake with a sweet vanilla frosting and a layer of berry compote.”
The guard’s eyes widened with anticipation. “Is this another one of Bobby’s recipes?”
I hadn’t had a chance to talk to my mentor about the prison guard yet, but I made a mental note to do that when I got home today. “Nope. This one is a new recipe I’m looking to trial.”
“It sounds amazing,” he said, rubbing his flat stomach in anticipation.
“I’ll make sure to give both of you slices after it’s done,” I promised. Noting the thermos on his desk, I added, “I’ll brew a fresh pot of coffee for you as well.”
“You’re a doll,” Garrity complimented with a wink.
“I’ll be expecting coffee, too,” Becker chimed in.
I smiled and agreed, following the younger guard to the kitchen where I was going to set up my stations.
After a minute or so of watching me, Becker said, “So, this is your last week here at Cantiville, right?”
As I was busy counting out bowls, I was only half listening. “Um,” I paused, looking over at him, “it might be. I haven’t decided yet.”
Becker nodded. “I’m looking forward to that cake. Make sure to cut me a big slice before you head out today, sweetness,” he told me, before taking my purse to the staff lockers where it could be stored.
Dismissing the awkward exchange as soon as he was gone, I began collecting all my wet and dry ingredients so I could make my exemplar cake.
I worked in silence, having left my phone in my purse. By the time I checked my watch, I was shocked to see that nearly an hour had already passed by. The men would be here soon, and my cake was chilling in the fridge so I could show them how to properly frost it.
Fifteen minutes later, the group of six inmates came streaming into the kitchen. At first, I didn’t see him. The man I was trying to tell myself I shouldn’t be looking for. However, it was no good lying to myself. I had a crush. Denying the truth would only be twice as pathetic as admitting it.
The confident man was the last in line. He was much taller than the rest by several inches. And if that didn’t cast the other inmates in his shadow, his stunning looks certainly did. Those blue-green eyes. That wheat-colored blond hair. That toned physique. It was enough to make any girl fall to her knees and want to worship at the altar of his godlike beauty.
But I wasn’t that kind of girl, I reminded myself. I wasn’t shallow or foolish. I knew better than to get involved with a bad boy. A felon. My dad had taught me that lesson long ago. Good-looking or not, they were nothing but trouble. Bad boys might seem like a good time now. But, sooner or later, they simply turned into bad choices that ruined your life. Just ask my mom. She could tell you a thing or two about that.
Smiling welcomingly, I waited for the men to find their workstations before I revealed what we were creating today.
“I hope everyone is hungry for sweets,” I announced with true excitement radiating from my voice and smile, “because we’re about to have the most delectable treat imaginable!”
* * *
Bishop
Fuck me! This woman looked even better than I remembered. The fantasy I kept reliving in my head came to the forefront of my thoughts. My dick hardened instantly and, once again, I was grateful to be standing behind the counter as I adjusted it in my loose-fitting jumpsuit. The last thing I wanted was for her to see it and think I was some kind of pervert. I mean, I kind of was, especially when it came to her, but I didn”t want her to find that out just yet.
“I should have checked earlier, but is anyone allergic to anything?” a worried Evie asked, scanning the crowd for hands. “That’s good,” she said with an obvious sense of relief. “We’re about to make the most decadent strawberry and cream cake you’ve ever eaten.”
No fucking way! Strawberry cake was my all-time favorite. My mom used to buy it for me every year on my birthday. This woman just kept getting better and better.
“And it’s not just any old strawberry cake, it’s going to be made with fresh berries and a delicious compote filling throughout the tiered layers,” Evie joyfully informed.
I think I’d just come in my government-issued jumpsuit! Fresh strawberries and a compote filling, whatever the fuck that was, sounded incredible. My mom had never made it like that. She’d bought my cake at the local market on the clearance rack every year. Not that I was complaining, but this version sounded like some next-level shit. Especially after another dreary week of mystery meat and canned peaches.
Really, where had this woman been all my life? Probably not hanging out at biker bars with assholes like me. She was too fresh-faced and had the clean-cut look of a good girl about her. I have to admit though, whatever it was, it was really working for me. My cock gave another lusty jerk like a naughty dog on an invisible leash as I gave her a wistful once over. Christ! I needed to get laid. I was all backed up and ready to fight at the drop of a hat. If I didn”t do something about it soon, it was going to drive me fucking insane!
Evie smiled and clapped her hands together. “We need all the time we have, so let’s get started.” Her beautiful moss-green eyes lit up with joy and I noticed an adorable dimple in her left cheek. “We’re going to start with the dry ingredients. Please look over your workspaces where I’ve set out everything you need to complete this project.”
From there, Evie demonstrated how to carefully measure and properly mix all the ingredients. Forgetting my dick momentarily, which wasn’t something I did often, I made sure that my measurements were as precise as possible. I wanted to impress this amazing woman with my skills. That way, when I got out of this dump, she’d be more than willing to let me in her front door. And, if I was a really good boy, her bed.
Evie made her rounds as the men got to mixing. When she moved close, I could smell her light perfume. Her scent was a warm mixture of vanilla and sugar. It was so deliciously sweet, it made my mouth water. I wondered then if she tasted as good as she smelled between those lush thighs of hers, and knew instinctively that she would.
When Evie stopped at my station, she peered into my bowl and proclaimed my batter looked “the perfect consistency”. I beamed like she’d just complimented my stamina in bed. I realized then that a life of abstinence was starting to negatively affect my psyche. The fact that a cake was causing me to be this giddy and turned on surely meant I’d spent far too much time behind bars. I’m sure as soon as I got out and had a few good fucks, I’d feel like myself again. However, the thought of those Club girls didn’t excite me quite as much as they used to. They certainly didn’t appeal to me like Evie Wild did. That thought definitely gave me pause.
After our cakes came out of the oven, we chilled them in the industrial-sized refrigerators so they could be frosted as soon as possible. Evie told us if they were still hot, they would melt the frosting and become a soupy mess. While everything was cooling, we diced strawberries into bite-sized pieces and began to form our compote.
By the time I started to assemble my cake, I was covered in flour, sugar, and bits of strawberry. I’d definitely underestimated how complicated baking was. My dream of impressing my hot culinary teacher was dwindling by the second.
Evie laughed as she passed by my station. “Do you need some help with that?”
Even though I’d tried to keep my table clean, I glanced around and noticed it looked like a bomb had gone off around me. Taking in my “creation”, I realized it too looked a fucking mess.
“Are you judging my masterpiece?” I teased the woman, noticing a trail of light freckles subtly spanning the bridge of her nose.
“Never,” she teased back, a sparkle in her eye that made me want to leap across my workspace, clear it of all the clutter, and bend her over it until I was seated balls deep in her wet, tight heat.
Wanting her to come closer, I handed her the spatula I was using to smooth out the frosting. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done then, Teach.”
Taking up the gauntlet, Evie accepted the tool and proceeded to expertly smooth the cake free of any lumps and bumps. Closing in behind her to watch her work, I inhaled her sweet scent, and a shiver of need ran down my spine.
Fuck me! This woman was unlike any I’d ever encountered before. I felt like a goddamn animal in season around her, and I couldn”t claim to dislike it. In fact, I felt like I’d just discovered my drug of choice, and I could barely contain myself from scoring on her ample supply.
“It’s all in the wrist. You just have to take your time and go slowly,” Evie lectured, her tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrated on rectifying my abomination of a cake.
I imagined that tongue doing nasty, filthy things to me when I whispered back, “I’m familiar with the concept.”
Her gaze traveled slowly up to mine and her cheeks tinged pink like she’d just run up a flight of stairs at full speed when she gleaned my meaning. “Well, er…, here,” she said and thrust the spatula back in my direction. “I’ll let you finish that up then.”
I noticed that her fingers were shaking as my larger ones wrapped around her much smaller ones. Accepting the spatula, my fingers slid roughly across her skin. My smoldering gaze, latching on to hers, let her know exactly what our contact was doing to me below the belt.
A clang of a metal bowl spilling to the floor at the station directly behind us shattered the moment. Evie whipped her head in the opposite direction to assess the situation. Garrity, the guard supervising us today, had already swooped into action and was helping the inmate who’d dropped his frosting clean it up off the floor.
“Let me get a mop and bucket,” Evie kindly offered.
“Why don’t you go speak to Becker. He can show you the supply closet where everything is kept,” Garrity said. “I’ll radio over to him now and let him know that you”re coming and what happened.”
Peeved that we’d been interrupted, I sighed in frustration, turned back to my cake, and tried to not undo Evie’s progress.
* * *
Evie
When I saw Becker standing at the doorway, I made my way over to him. “We’ve got a spill, I’m afraid. Garrity said you could show me where the cleaning supplies are kept.”
Becker swung his keys lazily on their ring as he looked me up and down. “That can be arranged. Follow me. It’s at the end of the hall. I’ll unlock it for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying to fill the awkward silence between us as we walked. “How’s your day going so far?” I tagged on, hoping to sound like I actually cared about the answer though all I could think about was prisoner Wilmont’s beautiful aqua-colored eyes staring hotly down at me.
Holy cow, I had it bad for the man! Just one look and he could make me melt like butter on a hot, tin plate. That man could make me feel things I’d never felt before, and I was more than just a little unnerved by the intoxicating emotion.
“Oh, you know, just another day in paradise,” Becker quipped nastily. “I can’t wait until I get out of this place. It”s a total dump, and my time is worth more than this.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that comment. It sounded like he had another job lined up and waiting for him.
Truly curious now, I asked, “Are you leaving Cantiville for another position somewhere else?”
Becker puffed out his chest. “I’m waiting for the Fenton police department to get back to me. I put in an application for the academy about a month ago. I should be getting a call any day now with my orientation date.”
“I didn’t realize you wanted to be a police officer,” I replied with a bit of surprise.
“I sure as hell don’t want to work at this shit hole for the rest of my life,” the guard replied with a sneer.
Not wanting to anger him any further, I let the matter drop.
Becker keyed into the storage closet. “Here it is. Take whatever you want.”
I hastily dug out the supplies I needed to clean the spill. Becker relocked the closet and I rolled my bucket and mop silently back to the kitchen.
Stopping me just shy of the entranceway, Becker placed his hand on my elbow, giving it a hearty squeeze. “Would you like that?”
My brow furrowed as my brain cycled through our short conversation to figure out what the heck the man’s question was even referring to.
Giving up on the silly riddle, I said, “Would I like what?”
Becker’s hand brushed past my ear and rested against the wall a half an inch from my head. He leaned in close, tucking the strand of perpetually stray hair back behind my ear.
He smirked. “Would you like it if I became a cop and carried a big gun?”
I might be somewhat naive, but I didn’t miss the innuendo behind his words. “I think law enforcement is quite an admirable profession,” I said, nervously biting my bottom lip as I tried to avoid his intense gaze.
“I thought you might like that,” Becker replied, running his fingers along my chin. “I’d make good money, too. And, if I had a girl, I’d be willing to spoil her. Take her to nice places. Treat her to nice things.”
I didn’t want to anger him, but I had no intention of dating Becker. Not liking him had nothing to do with his job or his looks. To be brutally honest, it was him. For whatever reason, the man turned me all the way off and left me feeling cold inside.
Trying to break free of his grasp, I edged toward the kitchen. “That’s nice of you. I really should?—”
Grabbing my elbow to hold me in place, he spoke over me. “If you play your cards right, that girl could be you.”
That was the last thing I wanted to happen. Attempting to move away from him, I swallowed hard. “Sure, well, I better be going now.”
“And I’m really good to my girls in more ways than one.” The creepy grin that split Becker’s lips just then let me know he was talking about more than just gifts and dinners. I shuddered at the thought of him ever touching me.
Before I could escape, his mouth was headed for mine. Without thinking, I shouted, “No!” and lifted my knee, nailing him square in the balls. In my defense, it was a purely instinctual move, and he was being a total prick.
Becker hit the deck, cupping his crotch and keening low. Before I knew what was happening, I looked up and saw inmate Wilmont standing there. I must have yelled louder than I realized and he’d come to see what the problem was.
“Did he fucking touch you?” the man growled, his usual smiling eyes burning with a rage I hadn’t anticipated.
“I’m fine,” I blurted out before the situation could spiral any further out of control. “Mr. Becker just fell is all.”
Wilmont gave the guard a cold stare as he slowly rolled to his knees and coughed. “Sure. I always clutch my balls like someone kneed me in them when I fall.”
Garrity was calling for Wilmont to get back into the room, and I handed him the bucket. “Bring this inside. I’ll be there in a second.”
The inmate looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. Giving Becker one last disgusted glance, he went inside the kitchen with the supplies.
Turning to the guard who was now shakily getting to his feet, I said, “I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just startled by your trying to kiss me. I hope you can see this for the mistake it was.”
“You kneed me in the balls! That was no mistake!” the man seethed in a strained voice, still clutching himself protectively like I might strike again.
“I have to go back to class,” I said, nervously wringing my hands together. “I really am sorry.”
Equal parts embarrassed and afraid, I turned and slipped back into the classroom hoping this would be the end of the horrifyingly awkward exchange.
* * *
Bishop
I was coming back from the showers when Becker found me. “The Warden wants to see you,” the broody man barked as soon as I spotted him.
I was being released from Cantiville in two days. I hope whatever the Warden had to tell me wouldn’t change that.
Following behind Becker, I realized we weren’t going in the direction of the Warden’s office. We were headed back towards the showers. Shit. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was about to go down. I could feel it.
“I gotta take a piss. It’ll just take a second,” Becker announced, veering off toward the main inmate bathroom. When we got closer, he shoved me inside.
As soon as the guard shut the door behind him, I heard something being shoved up against it and knew what, or who, was coming.
Tiny and two of his Nazi-scum friends exited the stalls as if we were all living out a really bad movie script.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Tiny asked, a field of broken and missing teeth showing like a jack-o”-lantern’s as he grinned at his good fortune. “Looks like fresh meat is on the table tonight, boys.”