Hero: Grayson. Convicted cop killer. Tortured, broken soul. Will he ever find love?  (or escape prison?)

Heroine: Abby. College sophomore. Teaches an english class to prisoners. Will SHE ever find love? (with a prisoner?) (while kidnapped)  (It’s verra naughty)

I look down at her, running my fingertips gently between her palms. It’s a sensitive place, her hands and mine. Warm with our shared heat. But nothing compared to how my dick will feel.

“You’re not just going to touch me, got it? You’re going to take me out and jerk me off,” I tell her. “And then you’ll thank me.”

For not fucking her. She should be grateful. It was what I’d planned to do. It won’t kill me to fuck her, but it’s this I really want.

“Take me out. Do it nice.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. And it’s like that electric line from class is still connecting us because I can feel her caving in to me, now–I recognize it with a rush of emotions I can’t define. She moves her hands down to my pants. I watch as her nimble fingers undo my button, and then my zipper.

“Nicely,” she says.

“What?” I ask, heart pounding

“Do it nicely. The word is nicely, motherfucker.”

Oh, Jesus. She’s pulling me out and I almost come right there. Her wrists are flush against each other, but she can still squeeze me in both hands and push down to my root and that’s what she does. A grunt escapes me.

She closes both fists around me and begins to jerk me off for real. It’s a little too fast, even considering how turned on I am. That’s how much she wants this over with. I understand that—God, I understand that too well. The way she’s moving fast reminds me of other hands. Greedy, grasping hands.

I grab her wrists. “Take your time.”

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