Page 25 of White Rabbit

She falters slightly and I can see the doubt creeping in as the cogs turn inside her head and her horny brain reboots. Narrowing her eyes, she looks at me cautiously. “Why?”

I laugh, debating whether honesty or a lie would soothe her more. Everything was a tactical decision when you were the Left Hand, there was no room for error because that meant failure and failure could mean death. Granted, the stakes here weren’t life or death, but they were important. I wanted her, and I would stop at nothing until she was mine.

Settling for somewhere between truth and flattery, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because since I first saw you, all I’ve wanted was to be in that class.”

The moment I saw her, on my first day at Ogmore Grange, I knew there was something between us. I’d glimpsed her when they’d led me to my cell after processing.

My eyes had latched onto the petite woman, wearing an ugly guard uniform, standing at the front of a classroom delivering a workshop. She’d had a smudge of blue paint on her cheek and a look of exasperation on her face as she’d tried to reign in the class. She was a tasty morsel in a filthy pig pen.

I remember thinking that she must taste like sunshine and sweetness, because she seemed the type. She was in Ogmore because she wanted to be. My initial assessment has changed little, except for the sweetness. When I close my eyes and think of her now, the flavor is deeper, more decadent.

My dick twitches as she finally breaks eye contact, the rose blush returning to her cheeks. There’s something about making others uncomfortable that gets me off, just a little. I like to see the fear in their eyes, their mind ticking away trying to find an escape route, only to realize there isn’t one. I am every inch the apex predator.

And she was all prey.

My pretty little white rabbit.

“Make no mistake Ava, I’m going to slather every inch of that body in paint and fuck you on the desk. It’s only a matter of how long you make me wait…” I say against the shell of her ear, my lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

Curiosity flits across her features. She’s imagining us, thinking about me and wondering if I’m worth the risk. I’m not—I’ll ruin her life, but I need her to think that I am. I need to possess her.

A door closes somewhere behind us and she steps back as if my words have scorched her. The real world, the prison we’re both in, is encroaching on our moment and ruining the electric charge in the air.

“Take a few days to rest. Join us next Thursday at 10 am.” I expect her voice to be shaky, trembling with need, but instead it’s soft as she reminds us both that she’s the one with the authority here. “And Creed, don’t underestimate me.”

I chuckle. I was underestimating her, thinking I had her in the palm of my hand, but she knew. She was aware of my manipulations and she'd been playing along. That just made the hunt even more interesting.

Jacob returns moments after she leaves with the forms, basically absolving the prison of any responsibilities for my injuries. I sign them, saying nothing as I stand there, thinking about Ava Bishop. What was going on inside that pretty head? Why wasn’t she more afraid of me? She’d seen my scars, the marks on my skin and yet she’d looked angry where others had looked at me with pity, that is until they realized who I was.

“Creed…”

“Jacob,” I say firmly, knowing he’s worrying about me when there’s no need. “Let Jules know everything is fine.”

He nods, his famous frown back as his mouth is pulled into a straight line. Jacob glances over to where Officer Bishop is standing outside, talking to another guard, and concern washes over him yet again.

The doctor says nothing. He knows his place, and is doing as he’s told. Jules’ reach as the head of The Family is much further than the authorities suspect, so while I am in here alone, I’m not defenseless or powerless.

I watch as Ava Bishop finally disappears from sight. It seems I may need to adjust my approach when it comes to her.

There’s a gleam in her eyes when she looks at me and it’s clear she wants me, but I doubt she understands why. She probably tells herself that she’s just curious in a professional capacity as she pours over my file. I wonder if she’s got pictures of me in her apartment, maybe in her workspace?

Lies. Half-truths she tells herself so that she can hide away from the raw honesty of the matter.

She wants me.

Wants me to fuck her.

To own her.

To drive her wild.

The uniform she wears is a farce, nothing but a game of dress-up as she hides behind the role of a prison officer. Underneath it all, she’s hungry for me. Desperate to break free from the prison of her life. Clawing her way out. She’s not so different from me after all.

Chapter Fourteen

AVA

Fucking Elijah Creed.

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