Page 67 of Babalon

I never considered myself a criminal, but the more I fall for this man, the less I care. The more I want, the more I crave.

Gripping harder onto him, I feel his hands release my vest and skim down the sides of my frame until they round the back of my hips and skirt over my ass. He leans enough to reach the back of my thighs, then with a single lift, I am off the ground. My legs wrapping around his waist and my ankles crossing at his lower back.

Focusing on the way he feels against me; I barely notice when the wall we were standing near meets my back. His hips grind into me as we make out like a pair of eager teenagers. Pawing at each other as if we’ve never felt touch that stimulates us and doesn’t make us shy away in fear of pain. Even if he is rough with me, and I with him, I welcome whatever he wants to give.

Touch me.

Hurt me.

… love me.

Breaking the kiss and bringing my hands back to the front of him, I cup his cheeks so I can look at him. The new position allows me to peer down into his face and eyes. Seeing how intoxicated he is off our intense kiss—his pupils blown wide, leaving thin blue circles around them.

There is a pause while we stare into each other, our breaths ragged and needy for the other.

Deep down, I want everything with Kace—everything we can have considering our predicament, that is. Yet, the other side of me knows this is dangerous. I cannot do this, for the safety of my heart. It is me against the world, and I don’t think I have the power in me to allow someone else in. To share my hard life with them. My pain, my fears, the things that keep me up at night. Call me a coward for giving him a piece of myself only to take it away.

“Kace—” I breathe out, an ache setting up in the center of my chest.

“Yeah, baby?” he answers back just as softly.

“I—we can’t do this.”

The way his eyes change from adoration to confusion to frustration in mere seconds is astounding. Despite trying to remain the closed off and guarded prisoner, his face is so damn expressive.

“The hell do you mean?” He clips.

“This, we can’t keep doing this, Kace.”

The world feels like it is racing toward me for a moment when he unravels me from his waist and drops me down to my feet again. He takes a step back to glare at me as I lean against the wall, a little light headed from the whole ordeal.

“Why the fuck do you care now? If you were concerned about anything, you would have stayed the hell away from me from the get go.”

“Kace—I did. After the first—”

“No!” he snaps. “You put me in seg, that wasn’t staying away when all I could hear was your damn voice in my head the entire time.”

“Even the second time! I put dis—”

“Shut your mouth, Nadia. You’ve been here for three years. I remember every single interaction we have ever had. From glances across the rec room to being escorted; hell, even when you slammed me on the ground.”

“I was doing my job, Patton.”

“Don’t fucking ‘Patton’ me, Nadia, I swear to God.”

“I need you to listen to me, what good is going to come from this?”

“You mean, what bad? You only ever seem to focus on the bad shit that happens to you instead of letting yourself move the fuck on. You’ve been angry since when? You were a young girl? Whathas that gotten you? You work in a maximum-security prison and push blow, only to go home and feel sorry for yourself.”

“How dare you!” I shout.

“I didn’t tell you those things for you to throw them in my goddamn face.” I roar, reaching up, I shove him even further away from me.

“What the hell am I supposed to do if I lose my job?”

Shove.

“Charges, Kace. I can catch worse charges for having sex with you than the ones I will get for selling coke.”

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