“Well, my bags are packed and I’ve booked the hotel already so I could leave whenever, I guess.”

  “Oh,” he says, a hint of shock in his voice, “you’re really serious about this. Will you be here tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I am,” I say. “And I will, um, if you want me to be.”

  He hums into the phone. “I can’t wait to hold you and kiss you again. I really miss you.”

  He misses me. Jesus, that sounds good. Feels good, too, and for half a second, I’m back in high school feeling all giddy, my belly full of butterflies. But the butterflies don’t last nearly long enough, before anxiety takes hold of me, a feeling, one that squashes the butterflies and replaces them with knots.

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” I blurt.

  “No, baby, I think you’re in love.”

  Sighing, I stand up, pacing across my room. “I kind of feel like all of this is a little crazy.”

  “You know what,” he says quietly, “if someone would have told me a story like this and I’d never come to prison, I would have thought so, too. But I believe you came into my life for a reason. Don’t you feel that way?”

  “I do,” I say, nodding my head, “but it still sounds crazy to me. All of it.”

  “Yeah?” he says, and laughs. “Well, baby, we can be crazy together.”

  His response makes me laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Good,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He pauses, quiet for a moment, and then as he continues, his voice dips low. “So, baby girl, what are you wearing?”

  Those words send excited tingles down my spine. I lick my lips. “Um, leggings and a tank top.”

  “And?” he pries. “What else?”

  “A light blue bra and panties,” I whisper, trying to keep the sudden arousal from showing in my voice.

  “Are your panties see-through?”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumble, nodding. “Yes.”

  “So I could see your pussy lips,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “I love how you wear my favorite color. It turns me on, you know that?”

  “I was thinking about you when I bought them,” I confess, embarrassment stirring inside of me. “I’ve bought a lot of blue since I met you.”

  “Really?” he asks, sounding genuinely shocked. “I love how caring you are. You always think about me. Is your pussy wet?”

  “Yes,” I whisper breathily. “It always is when I’m talking to you.”

  “Just thinking about that gets my dick hard, you know that?”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, baby,” he says. “I had a dream about you last night, actually.”

  I giggle, yep, giggle like a little girl. “Did you? What kind of a dream?”

  “I was picturing I came in to our house and you were naked on the bed rubbing your clit. I looked down and your pussy was so wet, it got my dick so hard.” He pauses, stalling for a moment. “Why don’t you pull down your pants and your panties, baby? I want to make you come before you hit the road. Are your toys already packed?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “They’re in my suitcase.”

  “Why don’t you grab them. And get two of them this time.”

  My breath hitches. “Sure, Joshua. Whatever you want.”

  And I mean it. Whatever he wants.

  19

  Please, Please Tell Me Now

  Kissing Joshua is never going to get old.

  His lips are on mine, demanding, yet soft, and one of his hands … it’s wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to send my heart racing and wetness gathering between my legs. The other is pressed firmly on my back, holding me as close as he can.

  The way he’s holding me … I can’t pull away, even if I wanted to.

  I love it.

  His thumb presses harder on my throat, and I gasp at the pressure, pressing myself tighter against him, as his tongue explores my mouth. Heat flares, pulsing through me. I need to get closer. I need more. I need …

  I let out a little whimper as his lips leave mine. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me in tighter still for a quick hug. Time’s up, but I’m not ready for the kiss to be over, not even close.

  “Missed you, beautiful,” he whispers against my ear. “So fucking glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too,” I say, squeezing him tight. “Missed you more than I thought possible.”

  And then he lets me go, taking a seat and tearing into his Swedish Fish. I teeter on my toes for a second, my knees weak, my head dizzy, before I take an ungraceful seat across from him.

  I stare at him for a moment, watching him as he pops a candy into his mouth. He’s enjoying it. I can see it on his face—in the brightness of his eyes, and in that smile.

  Damn, I love that smile.

  It reaches his eyes, crinkling the skin in the corners, flashing his straight white teeth.

  It’s pure, unrestrained, enjoyment.

  “What are you looking so hard for?” he asks, his smile growing impossibly wider. “What are you trying to find?”

  My cheeks flush. “Nothing. You just look … you look so happy. What are you smiling so big about?”

  Joshua shrugs and adjusts his position in his seat. “Nothing really. I had a really good day and I really loved that kiss.”

  “I loved it, too.”

  And I did.

  I really, really did.

  My pulse quickens just thinking about it.

  “So …” I say, glancing around. It’s loud today, the visiting area crowded. “Why was your day so good?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs again. “I slept really good, you’re here.” Another shrug. “Just really, really missed you, I guess. I don’t know. Life’s just going really good right now and …” He stalls, and my eyes flick back to his, his voice drawing my attention back to him. His smile dims a little, although the happiness in his eyes looks as though it brightens. “Well, I also kind of got some news today.”

  “News?” I ask. “What kind of news?”

  “The good kind,” he says, leaning closer.

  That’s it.

  That’s all he tells me.

  I purse my lips. “Well, what’s the news?”

  “Why are you so nosey today, my love?” he asks, regarding me peculiarly.

  “Because that’s just me,” I say with a laugh. “I like being nosey.”

  “Let me just hold your hand real quick,” Joshua says, reaching for my hand, taking it within his. “I need to touch you.”

  My belly flutters. Damn, how did I get so lucky? Richard would never …

  This man …

  “Tell me the news.” I squeeze his hand, curiosity and something else that I can’t quite pinpoint, buzzing through my body. “What’s going on? Please, please, tell me now.”

  He lifts a brow. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes,” I say with an exasperated laugh.

  “Well,” he says, digging into the balled up knot in the meaty part of my palm near my thumb, “today I went and saw the PRC board and they accepted me into work release.”

  I blink, stunned. “Really?”

  I don’t know what to say.

  I didn’t even know he was up for review yet.

  “Yeah,” he says. “It’s going to be a big change for us, baby. Really big change.”

  “What’s …” My mind is racing; I don’t even know what to ask. So many questions swarm my brain, so many thoughts … “What’s work release?”

  My scattered response makes him laugh. “They’re going to put me into a center with no fences. There will probably be like maybe two or three hundred inmates, so the living will be a lot better. And the best part is that I’ll be able to get a regular job on the streets.”

  The excitement in his voice is contagious. I’m grinning—grinning so big that my cheeks hurt. “Oh my God, baby, that’s so awesome.”

  “It’s going to be great for us,” he says. “I’ll be able to save up some money for us for when I
get out.”

  He’s thinking about saving money for us?

  Really?

  His response knocks me off kilter, startling me by the passion and excitement in his voice. I’m stunned. Speechless. I’m …

  I blink. “Really?”

  “Yeah, so I’ll be able to help,” he says, raising his eyebrows at my expression. “It’s really exciting, baby. It’s like the best news I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Baby,” he says, his voice all smooth and soft. “You need to be happy for us.”

  Those words make me melt. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m sitting, I’m pretty sure I’d be nothing more than a puddle on the floor. He begins rubbing my hand, putting just the right amount of pressure, breaking up all the knots, and just like the last time I was here, I feel as though we’re alone.

  I don’t notice the other inmates or their families.

  I don’t see the guards.

  It’s just him and me and it’s perfect.

  And then, a sudden thought dawns on me. My smile falls. “Will this like … will we still be able to have visits?”

  He grins at me. “Yeah, baby, and the visits even get better. We’ll be able to eat outside during the summertime, and they cook out, too. Some of the locations have tracks, so we can walk around the track holding hands. Everything just gets better as the security level gets lower. Life’s going to get so much easier.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. It sounds … amazing. Better than amazing. I stammer and stutter for a moment, my thoughts coming faster than I can process them. When I finally get my voice to work, it’s filled with excitement. “Oh my gosh. I don’t even know what to say. This is just so cool.”

  He laughs. “You don’t know what to say? With you, that doesn’t happen too often, baby. You really like to talk.”

  I laugh, hard, and so does he. It’s an awesome sound, packed full of raw energy.

  It sounds like true happiness.

  It makes my heart thunder in my chest.

  “When does this all happen? When do you move? How long does it take?”

  He shrugs and lets go of my hand, flipping his palm up for me. Instinctively, I dig in, massaging his palm. “It could take a week or it could take three. One day, they’ll just tell me to pack up. Usually it’s whenever a bed opens up, so I’m not sure which place I’ll be going to yet. It might be one of a handful. I think there’s about eight or nine of them in this state. But some of them even have things like fishing and boats you can go out on. It’s pretty cool.”

  “Oh my God, I love fishing.”

  Joshua laughs. “Do you?”

  I nod. “I used to fish all the time growing up.”

  “Really?” he says, his eyes widening. “That surprises me. I’m not much of a fisherman.”

  “My dad used to take me fishing all the time at our cottage. I loved it, loved being on the water, and anything I caught my family would eat,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t eat it, because it was all slimy coming out of the water, and I just pictured the fish being slimy when I eat it. I just can’t eat fish. The thought turns my stomach.”

  “Me neither,” he says, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Any time I smell fish, I think of nasty pussy.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “God, what’s with you and relating food to sexual things?”

  “I can’t help it,” he says, smirking. “That’s what I think of when I smell it. It’s disgusting, just like mayo. That makes me think of come.” He makes a face, and I laugh—hard. “But I don’t even think I could kill a fish if I caught one. That’s the problem, too. So I’m not really sure if I’m going to go fishing, but I might go out and swim.”

  “Nice,” I say. “So, tell me more about the job, like what kind of work can you get?”

  “Well, every center has different jobs,” he says, pulling his hand away, and leaning back in his chair. “They have nurseries you can work for. One of the guys I know was working at Dominos, but he actually ended up getting fired and kicked back to the prison I’m at now.”

  I raise my eyebrows in question. “Why did he get fired?”

  “He had his girlfriend come to work and they got caught having sex.”

  “Really?” My brows furrow. “Like at work?”

  He lets out a sharp bark of laughter, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Yeah, at work. I guess he had his girlfriend show up, and his boss ended up reporting him. Going to a work release camp, you’ve got a lot more freedom, a job and a boss, and you don’t have COs around. A lot of the guys end up getting kicked out for having cellphones, drugs, or they get caught having sex.”

  Huh. “Well, clearly I’ll never be doing that with you at your job then.”

  A genuine look of surprise passes across his face. “Really?”

  I nod. “Really.”

  “Baby,” he says, “the point is not getting caught.”

  “I’m not going to risk you getting into trouble.”

  “Come on, baby,” he coaxes. His voice is low and husky. “Haven’t you wondered what it’d be like having me inside you?”

  Yes! I think about it all the time and by the look he’s giving me, so does he. He looks as though he wants to devour me.

  “I think about it all the time.” I pause, picking my words carefully. “But I don’t think it’s …”

  “So do I, beautiful,” he says, pointedly cutting me off. “So if we could have the chance, I need to have you.”

  “Huh.”

  That’s it.

  That’s all I’ve got.

  Call me crazy, but even though I want him—like, really, really want him—fucking him in my car or in a bathroom at his work is not really what I had pictured for our first time.

  Not even close.

  He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, grabbing my untouched soda and taking a sip. “I just guess I pictured our first time together a little more romantic than in the parking lot of wherever you’re working.”

  He regards me peculiarly for a beat. “I know, but think about how close we are now, then picture how much closer it’ll bring us, having our bodies pressed together, our hearts beating fast, as we’re one together—finally. It’s going to bring us so much closer. I know it. Shit, just thinking about it is making me hard.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Will you stop it? You’re making me blush.”

  “Everything makes you blush.” Joshua chuckles. “Your cheeks are red pretty much all the time. I love it, though.”

  “They are not,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Oh, baby, yes they are,” he says, his voice thick with amusement. “Your face gets red, then you look down. You can’t even look up at me, then you start looking around and biting your bottom lip. It’s so fucking cute. I love it.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just stare at him, my face burning up.

  I take another sip of my soda.

  Then I stare some more, trying really hard not to let my eyes fall to his crotch.

  Another sip.

  He stares right back.

  “Why are you so quiet?” Joshua asks after a moment.

  “I, uh, I …” I purse my lips. “You have me all tongue-tied.”

  “Aw, so cute,” he says, his brown eyes warming as he laughs. “You’re adorable, baby.” He pauses, leaning forward once more, watching me closely, so closely it’s as though he’s looking right into my soul. “So what are you thinking about?”

  I roll my eyes. “Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about.”

  “Tell me,” he says.

  I shake my head. “It’s a secret.”

  He laughs yet again. “Oh, don’t play hard to get now. Please tell me. Pretty please?”

  I want to keep it to myself. I want to hold on to my thoughts tight. He just told me he wants to have sex with me at a job he doesn’t even have yet, and I don’t want to encourage the idea. But I can’t make myself
stop thinking about it when all I feel is elation at the thought that he wants me that much.

  “I’m wondering if I’d ever have the guts to actually do that,” I mutter. “To come to your job and have sex with you while you’re on break. I don’t know if I’d have the guts.”

  His expression shifts, the amusement fading when he grabs my hand. “You could wear one of those cute little dresses that you look gorgeous in. Don’t wear any panties, and I can just lift it up and slide my hard cock inside you.”

  My heart’s racing again, thumping in my chest. I watch his face as his gaze travels over me. I can see the want in his eyes. It’s the same feeling warming my belly.

  “And then we get caught,” I grumble, “and you get sent back to where you’re at now.”

  “Baby,” he says quietly, “just one time, having the chance to make love to you would be worth it.”

  I stare at him as my heart does a funny little beat, skip, beat, beat, skip. I want to agree. Shit, I want to. Instead, I say, “Not quite sure I’d call that making love, baby.”

  He hums. “Whatever you want to call it, I want it so bad. It’s all I think about every single day. You’re all I want for the rest of my life.”

  20

  I’m Moving Up, I Think

  The better part of Friday is spent in bed with my laptop. I’m on a roll, well over my word count goal for the day. It’s a little after two o’clock in the afternoon when my phone starts ringing, a FaceTime request from Becca popping up on the screen. I swipe the screen, holding my phone up and centering my face for the camera. “Hey, Becca.”

  “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in three days. Three days! I can’t believe you left and you didn’t call. I mean—did you forget about me? Are you ever coming back? I bet you already found an apartment and—”

  “Whoa! Slow down,” I interrupt her, closing my laptop and setting it aside. “It’s all good. I’m fine. I made it to Pennsylvania and I’m at a hotel. Everything’s good.”

  Becca drops her head, her eyes focusing on the floor. She’s at home. I see she’s sitting on her bright red leather couch, and her hand’s trembling slightly, the camera jiggling on her face.