Chapter Twenty-Three #2
He’s going about his morning business while I’m still in his bed, blanket draped over my waist, staring at him. Eventually, he grumbles, “Are you just going to lie there all day?”
Flopping back, I grin. “Come here and help me up, then.”
He rolls his eyes, though his lips are quirked. I’m desperate to kiss that cocky, hesitant little smirk off of his mouth, but I know he’ll likely need some more warming up to it.
Don’t ask me why we can fuck and suck each other dry, but kissing is considered too intimate. It’s an odd notion, but on some level, I get it.
Byron picks up my underwear and tosses them at me. “Put your panties on. I don’t want to find out what these guards do if you’re naked in my bed when they show up.”
“My guess is absolutely nothing.” I sigh, crawling out with little enthusiasm.
“Must be nice to be you, huh?” he rumbles while I slip on my underwear, clearly forcing his eyes away from my nakedness as he goes on with his routine.
“Possibly,” I hum as I sidle up to him. “I’d say it’s pretty bloody awesome to be me right about now…
” Wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, I seal my front to his back, making sure to rub my dick on his perfect ass.
Just a bit. He stiffens while I pout on the nape of his neck. “You don’t like my knickers?”
He peeks at me over his shoulder. “They’re cute. You always wear skimpy little undies like that?” He arches a cocky brow.
I may swoon myself into an early grave.
“I prefer the European style,” I tease, and he huffs.
“I think you’d look even more irresistible in some skimpy little undies .
” My lips graze his ear while my fingers trace his immaculately sculpted abdominals, leading down that carved V-shape in his pelvis.
“Perfect body… perfect dick… perfect ass.”
Byron shivers, his breathing changing in a flash. I love how much I can affect him. Despite being a brooding grump who gets supreme enjoyment out of beating people senseless, he can’t help but purr and tremble and melt for this pernicious trainwreck of a person.
I’m the luckiest demoralized outcast on earth.
And yet, he seems hellbent on keeping us both from floating away.
Byron pries himself out of my hold and spins to face me. “Trevel, listen… I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
I cock my head. “Which page should we be on?”
“The one where we both understand that we’re not a couple,” he says pointedly.
I narrow my gaze at that word. “ Both of us…?”
He nods. “We’re both responsible for keeping ourselves in check.”
Meaning, this isn’t just about me being clingy. He’s worried that he might start to…
I’m fluttering.
Check yourself… before you…
“I’m just saying, we have to stay casual,” he rumbles on. “Relationships… love.” He clears his throat. “They make people weak, and stupid. Not me, man. Never again.”
His cheeks are blushing as he rakes fingers through his hair, vehemently protesting the idea of falling for someone again, and I can’t say I don’t get it. I’m willing to bet my fancy knickers that this has everything to do with Michelangelo .
It may have a bit to do with Ren also.
Ignoring my obvious jealousy regarding those two, what he’s saying makes sense. After what he went through—hell, after what I went through—it’s in both of our best interests to remain casual.
But again, my stubbornness has me folding my arms over his chest and popping out my hip. “Are you laying down the law right now?” I cock a brow at him.
Byron huffs a small chuckle that I wish didn’t make him so bloody attractive. “Yea, I am. Hopefully, this isn’t a deal-breaker for you…” His soft voice is hurting his cause. “Because I’d really like to keep hooking up.” He bites his lip. “Casually.”
My lips twist. “Right… Casually .” I slink closer, vibrating with the exact things I’m supposed to be fighting off. “What about the cuddling?”
I bat my lashes at him, and he grins, clearly trying to tame it.
“The cuddling is fine. So long as it doesn’t make you fall in love with me…” As he purses his lips into this cocky smirk, the desire to bounce on his dick is instant.
“I’ll try real hard, sweet fury.”
Reluctantly, I put some space between us, and we go about our tasks. Prison cellmates, casually hooking up and forbidding ourselves from becoming anything more… Whatever you do, don’t press that button.
We should really be knocking on wood…
This will almost certainly end in tears and bloodshed.
Well, this is an exciting turn of events.
Byron and I are currently strolling through the halls of Alabaster Penitentiary, alone .
I’ve gotten used to walking to and fro by myself, but tonight, I asked Kent if Byron could tag along. And to my surprise, he said yes.
Sure, it’s just walking , but when you sit in a cell for eighteen hours a day, and spend every moment outside of it in silence, you learn to relish the little things.
Like going for an after-dinner stroll through a crumbling prison with your casual sex partner.
I have to appreciate such things, though I do wonder what Manuel thinks about the obvious bond forming between Byron and me…
I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
I read what Byron wrote about The Ivory in his book—the blowjob in his office. And that other thing, in solitary…
His relationship with Manuel Blanco is equally complicated, and it’s just another source of my ongoing jealousy where Byron Kang is concerned.
At least the Warden’s never propositioned me . Not yet, anyway. Though I wouldn’t put it past him.
I also wouldn’t put it past me to graciously accept, being that he’s sexy as hell, twice my age, dangerously Machiavellian, and oozing big-dick energy. In short, he’s not just Daddy as fuck, but formidable Daddy as fuck. The best kind.
All signs point to him being hung like a porn star and capable of fucking you into another dimension.
Regardless of all that toss, I’m at his mercy. Trapped on this island because he wants me here.
Might as well be the villain’s errand boy… At least this way, I’m getting something out of this otherwise miserable experience.
As if almost hearing my thoughts, Byron asks, “Aren’t you worried about being under the Warden’s thumb? About… owing him?”
Peering at him while we walk side by side, my gaze narrows. “Trust me, there are worse people than Manuel Blanco within these walls. At least he’s upfront with what he’s about.”
“You’re talking about Dr. Love, aren’t you?” He shoots me this knowing smirk. “Man, he really messed you up, huh?”
It doesn’t sound like he’s pitying me per se, but still. Giving Dr. Love credit for any of my issues is enraging.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I mutter.
“But he did fuck you over.” He lifts a questioning brow.
I purse my lips. “Well, yea. He left me to my own devices, then sold me out to The Ivory for his own selfish reasons. That said, if it weren’t for Felix Darcey , none of that would have happened.”
Byron peeks at me in between subtly watching the camera watch us. “I feel you. Felix Darcey is a bitch.”
I grin. “Such a bitch…”
“Right?” he commiserates. “Why is everyone so obsessed with him?? I don’t get it…
Just because he’s a maniac who happens to be adorable?
So what?? I’m telling you, I can’t stand these holier than thou murderers.
They act like they’re killing for some grand purpose, but really they’re just psychotic and desperate for attention. ”
The way he’s mirroring my exact sentiments warms my chest. “I couldn’t agree more.”
I’ve decided to take the long way to the east side, which goes around solitary.
I think it’s part of the prison Byron’s never seen, because his face is flinging all around, part nervous, part amazed, while also visibly on high alert.
As if he’s expecting a guard to burst through a door any moment and shoot us both in the face.
“This is fucking nuts,” Byron murmurs in fascination. “I can’t believe we’re just… walking around. Alone.”
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” I smirk, only partially teasing.
He rolls his eyes, though the excitement on his face is vivid, and infectious.
“You’ve barely been here two months,” he grumbles. “Once you hit years — plural —you start to forget what it’s like to do certain things.”
Unfortunately, the melancholy in his voice is also contagious.
Just like with Alice, I want to know all about Byron’s pain. I’m not saying I want to heal him, because I’m fully aware that I’m incapable of such things. I just want to feel it alongside him. Curl around him and endure his every single ache and twinge; suffer through it as if it’s my own.
“Like what?” I ask softly, and he peeks at me. “What have you forgotten?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to answer at first. But I see the very moment when his initial defenses slip away, and it’s mesmerizing. To think that in such a short time, I’ve become the one person he can confide in… The only one who gets his secret truths.
I could not possibly feel more special… Or more undeserving.
“How to behave around people, I guess,” Byron finally answers. “Like, I think if I met someone who wasn’t crazy or dangerous, I wouldn’t know how to act.”
I chuckle. “That just makes you sound fun and interesting.”
He grins, but bites it away. “Even just this, though… Walking around free . I can’t help feeling like I’m doing something wrong, just for walking without chains on, or supervision. Isn’t that crazy?”
“It’s certainly messed up,” I mutter.
“A few weeks before you got here, I had a cellphone,” he tells me. “O’Malley got it taken away being a hot-head idiot, as usual. But when I still had it, I stared at the thing for like ten minutes. Blankly. Just trying to remember what the hell to even do with one…”
“I was never a fan of smartphones,” I remark casually. “I used the one at my flat more than anything.”
Byron stops and gapes at me for a moment. “You mean, like a… landline?”
I grin at the look of appall he’s giving me. “Sure. We can call it that.”