auctioned to the prisoners bonus chapter

Bonus Chapter – 3 days after Kinkaid’s Escape

Lory

Mexico

The bathroom in this hotel is ancient. When I turn the faucet, the pipes groan like an old man lowering himself into a low chair. The tiles are cracked, the grout is stained, and flecks of black mold tarnish the sink, but I don’t care about any of it.

I clutch the edge of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are as bright as stars. On the other side of the door, Kinkaid, or Connor, as I have to get used to calling him, is reclined on the bed, searching the news on his new burner phone and looking for stories about his escape. There’s been nothing yet. Grady’s managed to keep his disappearance concealed, but we don’t know if he can manage it for much longer.

We made it over the border yesterday, and we could finally breathe.

The happiness I feel presses like a balloon inflating from my heart and outwards until it’s squeezing my ribs and bearing down on my stomach, making me feel a little spaced out and queasy.

Connor came for me. He risked it all to come for me, and now we’re together, and I don’t have to worry about finding another dead-end job or going to a bar to settle for a man who’ll want to pass through my life. I don’t have to lie in bed at night, dreaming of three men who became everything to me, but are locked away where I can’t touch them.

He’s here and real, and I can hardly breathe with excitement.

I splash water on my face as the butterflies in my belly dance a jig, and then my mouth fills with saliva, and I throw up before I know what’s happening.

Shit. I pant softly, waiting to see if I’m done before I wash out my mouth and spit. I hope I didn’t eat anything funky. We’re only staying here for one night before moving on again. I recall all the food I’ve consumed in the last twenty-four hours. Nothing stands out, and Connor hasn’t mentioned feeling bad. I touch my stomach, but I don’t have the unpleasant clenching feeling that accompanies food poisoning. I don’t need to use the toilet. I just have this hollow feeling in my belly and a metallic taste in my mouth.

Weird.

I open the door to the room and find Connor stripped to his jeans with his arms folded across his bare chest, waiting for me like a whole damned feast. He’s so muscular, and his tattooed arms bulge over his broad chest.

“You okay?” he asks. Even in the low light, his eyes are startlingly blue.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I just threw up.”

He unfolds his arms and slides off the bed, approaching me with concern lining his face. In the dim, yellow light from a corner lamp, he’s made of shadows and intensity. He cups my cheek like he’s checking for a temperature. “You feel bad?”

I shake my head. “Not bad, just strange.”

“Maybe drink some water.” He turns to search in a duffle for the drinks we bought at the last convenience store. “Here.” He hands me a bottle that’s lost its refrigerator coolness.

I take a few sips, feeling better.

“Thanks. I feel okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I eye the bed. It looks more comfortable than the one we slept in last night. We’d been driving for hours, and he fell asleep before I finished my shower. I snuggled up beside him, craving the warmth and strength of his body, and woke up to his arms around me and his hot breath on my neck. It was like being back at Blackstone, except the rising sun was poking fingers through a window we could see out of, and the door was only locked from the inside.

“Are you tired?”

“A little.” He stares at the bed, then the TV. “We could watch a movie.”

I want to tell him I’m only interested in the chill part of Netflix and chill right now, but I don’t want to sound desperate. Three days on the road together, and we haven’t gotten back to the intimacy we shared before I had to leave them behind.

“Sure.”

I find a clean camisole in my bag and strip off my top and bra, facing the wall. Before I have a chance to pull it over my head, Connor’s heat is at my back, and his hands reach around to cup my breasts. I suck in a breath and lean against his chest, turning to look at him. His gaze is liquid heat, and his jaw is set with fierce determination.

He presses his lips to my neck. “Forget the movie.”

“What movie,” I whisper.

Chuckling darkly, his thumbs and forefingers work my nipples into tight whirls as I groan at the ache it causes between my legs. It feels like an eon since I was filled. A million years since our last frantic moments together.

Connor’s big rough hand slides down my belly and into the front of my yoga pants, fingers finding my swollen clit.

“I dreamed about this,” he whispers, so close to my ear that I feel like his mouth is inside my head, swamping all my thoughts with his. “I dreamed about the slickness of your pussy and this sweet little button that makes you all crazy.”

I hum as he circles slowly, wetting my panties with barely any effort.

“I dreamed of your pretty tits, and your juicy ass, and the way your mouth opens when you cum on my dick.”

“Jesus,” I whisper, widening my stance so his hand can push lower.

“Did you think about me?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Every minute of every day.”

“You think about my dick?”

“I got myself off imagining you fucking me.”

His grip around me tightens, pushing my ass against his rock-hard cock. I missed this so much; the feeling of release that comes with submitting to his demands, to all their demands. Being held so firmly, I don’t have to think, I don’t have to worry, I don’t have to imagine all the bad things that could be coming my way. He supports me physically and emotionally, holding me up when the world wants to drag me down.

“Such a bad girl.” He sucks my earlobe into his hot mouth and laughs when I squirm as he pushes two fingers inside me.

I reach around to grasp the back of his neck, but he snags my hand and sucks my fingers. “These fingers don’t need to play with your pussy anymore, princess. That’s my job.”

“Okay.”

He releases me, turns me in his arms, and has me on my back so fast I’m dizzy and naked before I can moan his name. When he’s over me, braced on thick corded forearms, his eyes turn from feral to soft cornflower blue. He stares down at me and sighs before nuzzling my nose with the tip of his. “Lory.”

My name is like a prayer on his lips. I touch his face, which is thick with a beard designed to conceal his identity, but somehow, it only makes him look more like himself.

“I can’t believe I get to have you,” he says. “I can’t believe you want to be mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper. “And you’re mine. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.”

We’re both silent as we acknowledge there could be a time when factors outside our control force us apart, but I don’t want to even consider it. “I love you,” I tell him. “This is our time. Our chance. We can be the versions of ourselves we’ve always wanted to be.”

“We can.” His lips brush mine in a kiss that’s softer than down. He enters me then, in slow thrusts that take him deeper and deeper until I’m so full that I whimper.

“Princess.” He kisses my neck and my clavicle, palming my breasts. His hips stop moving, and he stares at my chest. “These… they’re different.”

Our eyes meet, and then I look down at my breasts. He’s right. I hadn’t noticed before with so much going on, but they’re fuller, and my nipples seem a little broader.

“Did you bleed?” he asks suddenly. “Since you left Blackstone. Did you bleed?”

I mentally calculate the dates and then stare at him. My heart squeezes and thumps. Does he think I’m pregnant? Could I be?

“I… I…” Tears spring to my eyes. He won’t want me if I’m pregnant. He won’t want me, and I won’t even know whose baby it is.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly against him, rolling us so I’m on my side with my face against his steady, thumping heart. “Whatever happens, good or bad, I’ve got you, Lory. Whatever happens. I’m never letting you go.”

“What if I’m pregnant? What if that’s why I threw up.”

“Then we’ll need to get you in front of a doctor, and we’ll need a crib and a stroller and whatever other shit babies need.”

I stare at his handsome, rugged face, his eyes filled with soft determination, and his mouth, which is still mostly serious but has a little upturn to the corners at the thought of a child. “How can you be so calm?” I ask.

“Because there’s no deadline for us, Lory. No end. No after. Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle because I’m a badass, and you’re fierce as fuck.”

I laugh, but it sounds strangled because my throat burns from unshed tears. This man is so much more than I ever believed I’d find in my life.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

It’s his turn to snort, then. “Outside of risking your life to save your sister, you mean. Or giving three hardened criminals a chance at something good in their fucked-up lives.”

I duck my head into his warm skin, embarrassed. He takes my chin and forces me to look at him. “You deserve the world, Lory girl. And I’m going to do everything in my power to give it to you.”

And that’s what he does.

He makes love to me, bringing the moon and stars so close that I’m blinded by their light. I fall asleep in his arms, content that whatever happens next, we’ll face it together, the two of us stronger and united.

And when Hyde and Rock leave Blackstone, I know they’ll join us, making me happier than I ever thought possible.

(c) Stephanie Brother 2024

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