Chapter 20
“Do you have plans next weekend?” Javier asks about halfway into our second visit.
“Don’t think so. Why? You gonna be free?”
He gives me a one shoulder shrug. “Could be.”
“Well, you know where to find me.”
He grins. “I do. I’m just hoping I don’t find you in the company of anyone else.”
I tilt my head, flirtation coming a little easier now. “Would you be jealous?” I ask with a small smile knowing damn well I won’t be with anyone.
Javier leans forward slightly, his eyes staring deep into mine. “You don’t want to see me jealous, carino.”
The timber in his voice makes goosebumps travel down my arms. I make a mental note to look up what carino means later, but I’m too caught up in his gaze. Too caught up in a feeling I definitely shouldn’t be experiencing.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip briefly. “Maybe I do.”
His brow lifts slightly. “I feel like you’re still wrapped in all these layers. I need to peel them away one by one to find out who you really are.”
The way he looks me up and down makes me feel naked. I want him to peel away the layers and get to the core of me. Hell, I want to get to the core of me. He noticed it immediately, even through a lattice. He told me I wasn’t being authentic. I was too practiced. He’s right.
“Are you going to have an issue with,” he hesitates, licking his lips as he stares at mine, “me fucking you?”
I don’t know why in that pause I expected him to say something like intimacy or physical touch. He’s never been one to mince words or be indirect, but the vulgar and blunt way he just propositioned me has my eyes widening slightly.
“Oh.”
“Figured I need to jump on the opportunity while you’re on sabbatical. Before you change your mind and run back to Jesus.”
I get lost in my head, tons of erotic and sinful thoughts tangling with the ones that know better—the ones that tell me I still need to obey the oath I took.
“You do want that, yes?” He glances over his shoulder at the door where the guard stands on the other side. “You want me to flog you until you’re a writhing, needy boy begging for my cock, don’t you?”
My face heats up, and I know he can see the flush under my skin. I swallow, imagining the exact scene he just painted. Before I can reply, he continues.
“Or.” He pauses, his hand reaching for mine under the table.
“Do you want me to be sweet to you? Soft and gentle.” His fingertips trace the top of my hand, going up my forearm.
“I could tease you with touches until you beg for more.” He pulls his hand away, sitting back in his chair to watch me. “Which one do you want?”
I lick my lips, stuck in my own head as these fantasies play out. “Both,” I say on a breath, my voice barely audible.
He grins a wicked grin and a thrill runs up my spine at the promise behind his eyes. The door opens, and the guard enters, putting a stop to our visit.
When he hugs me this time, his fingers move gently up my back. “Will I see you again tomorrow?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” comes out from between my lips like there wasn’t even another possible answer.
When I wake up in the morning, it doesn’t go unnoticed that I’m looking forward to a prison trip way more than anyone should be. I went for a run to try to gain clarity on what I’m doing, but all I could think about was him and the images he put in my head.
In the shower, I thought of him again, wanting so badly to touch myself, but convincing my hand to stay away, because Javier’s would feel better.
I’m putting way too much care into my appearance and what cologne I use. I’m acting like this is a date when it’s not, but I make sure I smell good, and that my hair is perfectly in place. I choose to not wear my glasses today, instead going with contacts.
With a sigh, I kneel at my bed and say a prayer. I ask for guidance in my life choices, and then I get up and go to my car.
The whole drive there, I look for signs to tell me I should turn around. There’s no traffic, no accidents or road closures. Everything seems to be clear and fine to get me to the prison. In fact, this has been the quickest and least stressful drive to the prison I’ve had.
Is this a sign that it’s okay?
Or am I a crazy person seeing only what I want to see?
At the prison, after waiting in line, I’m finally at the front to sign-in.
“I’m here to see Javier Perez.”
The woman begins typing into her computer, and I watch as her brows furrow. “Oh. He isn’t able to get visitors today.”
“Oh. May I ask why?”
“Disciplinary measures.”
Of course.
“When might he be able to have visitors again?”
She huffs, annoyed with me already. “I don’t know, sir. That depends on him, doesn’t it? You can call next time before driving all the way out here.”
I nod. “Okay. Thank you.”
On my slow walk back to the car I wonder…is this the sign I was waiting for?