Page 210 of Felonies are Forever

“I love you too Daddy.” He slips out of me, pulling me to my feet as he bends his still hard cock back behind his zipper and I straighten my dress.

“I can already feel it oozing out.” I squeeze my thighs together.

“Well, reach down there, get yourself a few fingers full and have a snack before we got back to the party.” His eyes roam over me as I do as he’s told listening to his deep growl as he watches. “Your mother would be so proud.”

“Jack!” I smack his shoulder. But he leans down and kisses me on my head.

He’s the reason my mother is here though. After Penny was born, I was sad about how things went with mom and ironically, I got a email from her a few weeks after the birth saying she and her new husband were getting a divorce.

She was broke, of course. Needed help to get settled again and I was so conflicted about what to do.

Jack stepped in, he called her and gave her the ins and outs of how things were going to go. He would help her, but she needed to toe the line, apologize for leaving me like she did, and basically shape up.

It’s been an up and down bumpy road, but she’s still living here in Cherry Falls. Works for Jack and over all, we’ve managed to put the past to rest and start a new future.

Arianna wasn’t so lucky. Her mother never materialized but Carter takes such good care of her, she doesn’t seem to be missing out on much.

“Come on.” Jack pulls my hand as we walk toward the door. Sounds of laughter and crying and screaming children drift down the hall.

“The USS Chaos is ready to sail.” I give Jack a salute, an homage to his first boat which has become one of the catch phrases for our messy, but amazing life.

“Captain Jack at the helm.”

We make our way out of the bedroom and toward the sound of the party. My heart, my pussy and my belly all full because of my brother’s best friend and my best friend’s father.

A little wrong can turn out, so, so right.

BONUS - HARD TIME

ONE

Lenore

He’s always beenthe shadow on the other side of my letters. A dangerous but distant enigma, wrapped in a shield of ink and paper. But now he is flesh and bone, an imposing reality standing before me.

And now, as I step into the sterile, dimly lit medical ward of the prison, reality slams into me.

He’s here. He’s real.

The moment I step through the heavy steel door, the air shifts, the last of what is fresh and alive in the spring turns stale, tinged with the sterile bite of antiseptic and something faintly metallic—like old blood soaked too deep into the grout to ever be scrubbed clean. The fluorescents flicker overhead, casting sickly yellow light across the cracked linoleum floor. My footsteps echo in the cavernous silence, a steady rhythm of hesitation and anticipation.

Why am I here?

I can almost hear my mother’s voice. Her sharp, exasperated sigh crackling through the phone just hours ago.You attracttrouble like a damn lightning rod, sweetheart.She isn’t wrong. From the time I was sixteen, sneaking out to meet boys on motorcycles, to now—standing in a prison, of all places, to meet a man I’ve only ever known through ink and longing—I’ve always been drawn to the things I shouldn’t want. The dangerous, the impossible. And if my mother knew exactlywhoI was meeting today? She’d fly across the country just to drag me out of here by my hair.

He’s in prison, for God’s sake! What are you thinking?

But the thing is, I wasn’t thinking. Not when it came to him. Not when I traced the edges of his letters with my fingertips at night. Not when I breathed in the words he wrote me, soaking them up like sunlight through my skin.

Not when I agreed to come here.

No, I’m not thinking, but one thing I am is wet.

God, there are no panties in the world that could withstand this deluge.

The walls, once white, are now a dull shade of gray, marked with scuffs and shadowed handprints, as though the ghosts of past inmates still linger. A single steel examination table sits in the center of the room, a thin paper sheet crinkled and torn along its edges. There is no clock, no window, no evidence that time exists in this place at all.

My pulse stutters as my brain puts together the shape in the shadows to form something human.

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