Thirty-Eight
Rubin
“Where have you been, miu?” I kept my voice quiet. Lethal for anyone smart enough to hear it. She was.
She stared up at me and smiled. “To the beauty salon.”
My brow furrowed before I could stop it. She lifted a hand to the loose braid that brushed her shoulder. “You didn’t notice my amazing new hairdo.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your hair, Simone. Where were you?”
She brushed off my gruffness and smiled wider. Something almost giddy in it. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Marku. All that work and that’s the response I get.”
“What are you so happy about?” I said.
I’d seen her go to Veronica and that CO.
I’d decided he’d get to live and would not think more of it.
Tried to, anyway. But the hours stretched and I couldn’t stop wondering where she was.
Who she was with. What she was up to. It could have been a chat with someone who, in a different life, would have been a friend.
Plausible. Too simple for Simone. She had to be up to something. She had to be.
I’d driven myself to near frenzy, and she’d breezed in like it was nothing. The tic in my jaw worked overtime as I glared at her.
“Come with me.” I grabbed her wrist, my fingers settling against her pulse as I moved. I hated standing in the hallway, exposed.
If Simone minded the roughness of my tone, she didn’t show it. She seldom did.
“Don’t disappear like that again,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Rubin. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in a jail. And there are zombies outside. I promise I’m not going far.”
Her smile was soft as she looked up at me.
“Don’t disappear like that again,” I repeated.
“Okay.” Still smiling, still amused, still lit up by whatever had happened in her time with Veronica.
I got her back to the office in record time and practically pushed her inside.
Her hand was pressed against my chest. I’d been so tangled in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed she was touching me. Somehow Simone was the only thing that could distract me from Simone.
I looked down at her hand, thinking it would give me a moment to regain control. Long fingers, sturdy. Neat clipped nails, unpainted. A little divot where her cheap pens pressed into her skin. Wholly unremarkable, like the woman herself.
Now that unremarkable hand, belonging to an unremarkable woman, pushed against my chest. My eyes flashed up to hers. Her fingertips pressed harder. I stepped back, then saw where this was going.
“Simone…” I’d intended the word as a warning. It came out as something else altogether.
“Rubin…” She said my name like she had every right to. Like she wanted to.
The backs of my knees found the couch and I sat before I’d decided to. My body moved on its own, and by the time my mind caught up, Simone stood in front of me, pulling down the heavy canvas of the white prison uniform that never should have touched her skin.
She draped herself over my thighs like she’d done it a thousand times.
God, this was so perfect.
I couldn’t allow that to be.
I didn’t move.
I stayed exactly where I was, her weight settling over me, the astringent scent of cheap soap and pure Simone underneath it.
She widened her legs and I breathed her in deep and hated how much I wanted this.
Like always, the feelings only Simone could pull out of me hit at once as I stared into her brown eyes.
The hatred that made it almost impossible to draw my next breath, and the things underneath it I wouldn’t dare name.
I’d taken her on this couch before, her cheek pressed so hard against the rough fabric it left a pattern on her skin. I should have done that now, given myself the escape some part of me knew I needed.
Still, I couldn’t move.
I also couldn’t let Simone win. I’d always enjoyed testing my control, and she was a way to do it. I kept my eyes locked on hers and refused to look away. She wouldn’t make me hide, even as I shivered under her hands moving down my chest.
She smiled as she moved them back up and cupped my stubbled cheeks in her palms. Warm.
Soft, her face close enough that I could see the flare of her nostrils.
I knew what she meant to do a breath before she leaned in.
I let her get closer, closer, then turned my head.
Her lids lowered, but she kept her eyes on mine, disappointment and want clear in them.
No.
Simone didn’t want me. This was only an angle.
She had her part to play, and I had mine.
So I’d do that now, and let her, but it would never be more than that.
I’d prove to myself I could. Take her face-to-face, watch her the whole time, remember exactly what this was.
Simone recovered and pressed her lips to my jaw, then my neck.
I shivered, but I wasn’t surprised. Maybe it had hurt her.
Maybe I’d just given her exactly what she wanted. I didn’t know. I couldn’t know.
That was why this boring, dull woman was my undoing.
She proved it again when she freed my cock from the uniform, dragging the coarse fabric down with punishing patience.
She stroked me root to tip, slow, watching my face the whole time, studying my every reaction.
She worked my cock until I was slick and leaking over her knuckles.
Before I could stop, I rocked my hips up, fucking her fist so eagerly it was embarrassing.
Then she just stopped.
Held me on the edge of oblivion, her thumb gently stroking my leaking crown.
“Look how hard you are for me,” she said, pride and awe in her voice.
“Are you teasing me, Simone?”
Her answer was a swipe of her tongue around my crown, pulling me just deep enough into the warmth of her mouth that I shivered. Then she rose up and settled over me, lazily dragging the head of my cock between her lower lips.
Fuck.
I could have come then, Simone’s hot, wet heat intoxicating. The air sucked out of my lungs when she stilled and lowered down slowly, swallowing my cock inch by inch.
I gripped her wide hips, squeezing the ample flesh, anxious for something to hold on to.
Simone rocked, unsteady at first, but by the third rotation of her hips she’d found her rhythm. I stared up at her and let her ride me, content to let her use me to take her pleasure, prideful that it was me and my cock that had her on the edge of her own control.
She rose up, then sank back down, up again and then down, grinding her clit against the base of my cock. Her breath caught every time she did that, the little tremor of her body making those gorgeous tits jiggle.
I leaned forward and captured her nipple in my mouth and sucked hard. Her pussy clamped down so hard, I could barely hold back. Seeing her above me, the wild tremor of her body and her desperate pants as she chased her climax made me that much more determined to drive her there.
Still clamped on her nipple, I fucked into her, rocking my hips in short, rough jolts until she flew apart. She didn’t say my name as she rode the wave of her climax, but she held my shoulders tight like she had on the catwalk.
She came down shaking, and on what seemed to be instinct, leaned in.
The thought of doing anything but stay buried in her tight grasping walls, spilling my seed in the place that was mine, and mine alone, threatened to break something inside me.
My cock jerked at the image of her pretty little pussy so filled with my cum that it spilled out, knowing that giving in would bind me to her in ways I could not—would not—allow. Not again.
I lifted her off and fisted my cock, the crown flushed dark and still slick with her, the steady flow of precum leaking out to coat my hand. Three short, brutal thrusts, and I spilled on her stomach.
The climax rocked me, my body spasming with the intensity of it, but I refused to make a sound. Simone watched me through it all, said nothing when I left her there.
She took her turn in the warden’s bathroom, then settled on the couch.
Through it all, my mind found another question that demanded an answer.
How had I not seen her?
I lost sleep looking for an answer.
It never came.