Page 20 of Jealous Convict

Shock ripples through me. But before I can voice my serious reservations, he shakes his head. “I won’t let it come to that. You deserve to live free, baby, not on the run.”

Relief pours through me, but a thousand more worries linger. Then those too start to melt away as his fingers start stroking me.

“Monroe?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I put my legs down now? It’s a little…uncomfortable.”

His eyes slide possessively down my body to my wide-displayed core. A primal look clenches his face and I know he’s thinking of refusing.

I want to tell him that there’s no scientific proof that holding up your legs makes the sperm migrate faster to the egg but I know it’d be no use.

This is a visceral, instinctive thing for him, much like an athlete kisses the ground before a marathon or a swimmer eats the same meal before a competition. There’s no rationale behind the driving compulsion to do it.

Eventually he gives a jerky nod, then watches with blazing intensity as I lower my legs. The moment I do, he picks me up and strides over to the sofa, lays me down carefully and stretches out beside me.

Several more loud rams at the door make me whimper, and he runs soothing hands down my arm and hip.

“Easy baby. No one is getting in here.”

“What about the guards? Shouldn’t they have come back by now? What if…” I bite my lip because I don’t want to will the worst-case scenario into reality, although deep down I suspect that if the inmates are out there trying to break the door down, then the likelihood that the guards have their hands full elsewhere, or worse, is high.

Which means we’re well and truly?—

“Do you have headphones with you, baby?”

My eyes flick to my purse, still sitting on the floor next to the chair I used before. “Yes.”

He gets up, stalks over and retrieves it. It looks so small and delicate in his big hands, I hysterically notice.

“I need you to put them on for me.”

I take it from him, frowning. “Okay, but…why?”

“Because I don’t want you hearing the sort of language those assholes out there are using.”

I bite back a smile. “You know I’m not that innocent, right? I watch R-rated movies all the time, and I’m in college.”

His lips flatten. “Yeah, we’ll discuss those movies later. For now, I don’t want the mother of my children subjected to uncouth language from asshole inmates of a federal prison. So do it for me? Please?”

Something deep inside me melts. I nod and rummage through my purse as another round of pounding shakes the door.

“Yo! Gage! You gonna let us have a piece of that snatch or what? Come on, man. Don’t be greedy. We’ll only tear it up a little. Scout’s honor!”

Raucous laughter follows and Monroe’s fists bunch, his whole body swelling with fury before he slants me a stern look.

I hurry to dig out my phone and AirPods. There’s still no reception on my phone but I activate my downloaded music, slot in my AirPods and turn up the volume.

Once they’re in, his tense shoulders relax a little.

I watch him prowl to the door, see his lips move as he growls something I can’t hear. The pounding stops for a minute, then I hear laughter before it starts up again, harder than before.

He slams his fist against the door before he stalks back to me.

Taking my hand, he reverses our positions, stretching out on the sofa before pulling me on top of him.

For the next hour, he caresses my body in soothing motions while I listen to music.

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