“Just book the damn meeting, Jasper.” I spin on my heel and march toward the far corner of the garage, toward the exit that leads back into the main house. “As soon as possible.”
“Make sure you get us what we need this time, Ms. Marrón. Use those assets of yours—and I don’t mean your wits.” He laughs again, and I cast one last angry scowl over my shoulder, just in time to watch him check out my ass.
I slam the door to the garage behind me and stalk away. Jasper is a tool. A means to an end. Dad keeps him around for dirty work, not his charming personality. Still, I can’t help but resent what he implied. That I’m just going to fuck the information we need out of Damon Tell.
Worse, after the way my traitorous body reacted to Damon last time, a little part of me fears that Jasper might have a point…
3
It’s my first time in the conjugal visitation building. This place is nicer than the shithole where they let us meet our usual visitors—not that I’ve had many of those, mind—but that ain’t saying much. The room the guards escorted me into smells like bleach, and the fluorescent lights make the back of my eyeballs ache. It’s dim as hell in the main prison, everywhere from the mess hall to our bunks requiring we squint all the time. This sudden flood of light is an assault on my eyes.
I take a seat on the tiny twin bed, the only furniture in the room aside from a coffee table with two plastic mugs, a single pot of coffee, and no chairs. I try not to think about who was on this bed before, or what kind of shit they got up to in here. At least the white sheets look clean.
Then I try not to let my mind wander to Ashley Marrón. I try very damn hard not to think about what I’d like to do to my “fiancée” in this tiny soundproof private room of ours. I try not to think about her scent—the sweet, sticky smell that clung to those panties I made her give me last time. The panties I still have saved in my bunk, panties that I clenched tight in one hand while I wrapped my other fist around my hard cock, thinking about her wide brown doe eyes and the way her mouth jutted out in a pout when she argued with me. Fuck, I’d like to see those lips wrapped around my dick. I’d like to see how high and mighty she could act if I had her bent over in front of me with my cock in her tight little pussy. I’d like to make that girl scream and beg me to let her come, and I’d like to draw that out for as long as possible, make her wild with lust before I finally give her the orgasm her body is begging for.
I won’t lie, it does make it hotter that that sexy little girl is the daughter of my enemy. Fucking her would really piss off her Daddy, and it’d serve him right.
But it also makes her a hell of a lot more dangerous than she looks. Because I know the Marrón family. I know what her father is capable of, and I can only assume that his daughter is cut from the same cloth.
After all, Mauricio Marrón is the reason I’m in here. Without him, I’d be a free man. Without him, Eric Brown would still be alive today. Without him, Eric’s wife and kids would be home safe with their father, not out there on the run, living in secret, hiding from everyone and everything in their past.
Still. She’s an easy mark. A good way to get back at her father. If I can corrupt his little girl, it’s the least I can do to get revenge, after everything he’s done…
A deafening pounding on the door startles me out of my reverie. I glance down, and curse under my breath, realizing I’m still hard from daydreaming about Ashley earlier.
Get your shit together, Tell.
I straighten and lean back on one elbow, a smirk already plastered on my face as the guard shoves open the door. “Your fiancée is here,” he announces, pointlessly, since Ashley is already brushing past him into the room.
Fuck.
She looks even hotter than last time. She’s clearly abandoned the pretense that she’s here on business—rather than a suit, she’s in a tight miniskirt and a top that clings in all the right places, cut low enough to give me a perfect eyeful of her ample breasts. And… if I’m not mistaken, she isn’t wearing a bra. I can see the hard outlines of her nipples, standing at attention in the chilly room.
My jeans tighten as my cock only gets harder at the sight.
“You have one hour,” the guard announces, before he slams the door behind him. We both listen to the key turn in the lock, and then Ashley crosses the room, her high heels clacking on the floor.
I can’t help it. I watch her legs move, drawn by the smooth flow of her calf muscles, not to mention the glimpse of her ass as she turns around to settled herself onto the far side of the twin bed—as far from me as she can possibly sit, I can’t help but notice. “I must have done something right to deserve a second visit from you,” I comment.
She rolls her eyes. “I came because I had to, Tell. You didn’t give me anything last time. This time, you’re going to tell me where the money is.”
“That so?” I lift a brow. “What’s my incentive, exactly?”
‘“You seem like you’re enjoying yourself already,” she points out, with a pointed look at my crotch.
I shift closer to her, letting the hard bulge in my jeans show blatantly. “If you think wearing a tight, sexy little skirt is enough to get me talking, then you must not know many hardened criminals, Ms. Marrón. Going to take a lot more than that to get my lips moving.”
“Is it?” She shrugs one shoulder, the very picture of feigned nonchalance. “I think you’re going to tell me what I want to know, Mr. Tell.”
“And what makes you think that, Ms. Marrón?”
“Because you’ve had enough time in this prison to think about how you like it. Or how much worse we can make things for you if we get you transferred to solitary, at any rate.”
I clench my fists to avoid responding. She’s right, of course. Solitary here, from everything I’ve heard, is a living nightmare. If I think the lights are dim and the food is shitty up in main, I have no idea what I’m bitching about. Down in solitary, I hear the cockroaches are so common the chefs just started counting them as part of the meal—the protein portion.
But Ashley has tried this line of threats already. I don’t buy it.
“You can’t just negotiate on the same terms that you already failed on last time,” I tell her.
Her cheeks flush a little, but that’s her only giveaway that she’s annoyed. Otherwise her expression remains impassive. “You’re going to tell me where the money is, Damon.”
“I’d be happy to.” I slide closer to her across the twin bed. She doesn’t move back, but rather leans toward me. If I’m not mistaken, her eyes dart to my lips for a second before she regains control of herself.
She wants me. As much as I want her, I’m sure.
This is going to be fun.
“You’ll cooperate then?” she says.
“Of course. As long as you do as well.”
She frowns, sensing the catch. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll tell you the secrets you want to know, as long as you tell me some of your secrets first.”
For a moment, she’s silent. I can practically see the calculations spinning through her mind. She’s trying to figure out if this is a trick, if there’s a catch she’s not seeing. But she can’t work it out, so eventually she just nods once, firm. “All right. What do you want to know?”