Model Prisoner

“Make coffee, go through paperwork, answer the phone.”

“And you’d trust me to go through paperwork. I am sure you saw my record.”

“I did, but I don’t think that’s the whole story, is it?”

“No,” she whispers, tears springing to her eyes.

I jump up and go to her. As I approach her, her eyes widen, and she makes an adorable little squeaking sound. Then she looks anywhere but at me.

It’s then that I realize my cock, my very large, very hard cock, is hanging out like a fucking flasher in the park.

“Shit,” I mutter, turning my back to her and tucking my dick back in my pants.

When I turn around, she’s smiling at me. Thank God, that could have gotten bad before it got so good…

Chapter Three

Victoria

Oh. My. God. The hottest man I have ever seen was staring at me like I am a tall glass of water for a dehydrated man. Then he stood up and his massive, and I do mean massive cock was hanging out, like it burst through his zipper. When he turned his back to me, I licked my lips and smiled for the first time in months.

“My apologies, Victoria,” he says. The way he says my name should be a sin. I also can’t help messing with him a bit.

“I thought you couldn’t have weapons in here,” I say, smirking. I may not know first-hand what to do with a man, but I know how to make a man want me. I am not a tease by any means, but I can play for the camera.

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind,” I reply, chuckling to myself.

“We can find something else for you to do if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No!” I blurt out. “I mean, I can do it.” This isn’t the first time someone has tried to get me to do something by trying to take their dick out, but it is the first time I have responded to it. I can only hope he doesn’t think that I am the kind of girl that sees a dick and jumps on it, but at the same time I want him to know that I would jump on his if he asked me to. I hate being in my own head right now.

“Excellent. You may start at nine tomorrow.”

“Fuck it,” he says, hauling me to my feet.

“What?” I ask, breathlessly.

“You should have run while you had the chance,” he growls before kissing me. Never has a first kiss felt like this. Felt like magic. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back like my life depends on it. Outside of the door, I hear boot heels clicking on the floor and I spring back from him. “Come in,” he says, answering the knock. I have to work really, really hard to control my breathing. I am almost panting, and I am pretty sure that is a dead giveaway that something inappropriate happened in here.

“Is she ready, sir?” Commander Jenkins asks.

“Yes, of course. Have Ms. Winston added to the list of trustees. She will be acting as my secretary until Jill comes back, if she does, that is.”

“Sir?” the guard questions. I knew there was some kind of hierarchy here. I’ve seen TV shows and movies about the very thing.

“Just do it, Jenkins.”

“Of course.”

“She is to report at nine in the morning.”

“I’ll let everyone know.”

“Until tomorrow, Ms. Winston,” he says, practically dismissing me. Why the hell does it hurt so much? I barely know the guy but everything in me is screaming to stay, to see what happens next, but that’s not to be.

“Have a good evening,” I murmur, following the guard out the door. Out in the hallway, Commander Jenkins looks at me with disgust.

“I don’t know what you did to get on his good side, but it can’t have been good.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t get hoity with me, inmate number 267589. I can make your life miserable.”

“Why bother? It’s already miserable just by being here.”

“That’s true enough. We’re going to get along just fine, Ms. Winston.”

“Vickie,” I say automatically.

“Vickie,” she parrots. “Come on, let's get you down to the mess. Chow time.”

“Yum,” I say sarcastically.

“It grows on you,” she says.

“It would have to.”

The following morning, I am allowed to walk over to the warden’s office alone. When I arrive, his office door is open and he’s sitting behind his desk.

“Good morning,” I say as cheerily as I can.

“Good morning, Victoria.” God, even the way he says my name does things to me.

“What would you like me to do?” I ask, my voice is decidedly breathy. Get it together, Vickie, I chastise myself.

“I have some files for you to go through. Nothing too crazy. When the phone rings just answer it.”

“How should I answer it?”

“Jill used to say Santa Rosita Federal Prison warden’s office, so anything along those lines will be fine.”