Page 35 of Forbidden Virgin

“Yeah?”

She climbed on a stool and grabbed a device from the top of the mirror. A small black camera he hadn’t noticed before. “I bought a special camera. You know, so we can film ourselves and you can watch it when you have to travel out of town and feel lonely.”

A lovely shade of pink stained her cheeks. “I love the surprise. And I love you,” he said, giving her a hug.

One lifetime, that would be it. One lifetime filled with joy, peace and best of all …Kate.

~The End~

Want more smexy?Check out the first chapter of Forbidden Inmate:

“Inmate, take off your shirt,” Trent said when she entered his perfectly organized office. “A source told me you’re contra banding lingerie and I need to make sure that’s not the case.” His voice dropped an octave, sending little thrills of excitement through her.

Mia Singer stared deep into his gaze. His deep azure eyes had a hypnotizing effect. The irises were fiery cobalt, but the little flecks around it hinted at a gentler blue. He gestured with his index finger, and she removed the ugly khaki shirt over her head. When she removed it completely, the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

She knew she shouldn’t ogle, but her eyes skimmed the impossibly tall, broad shouldered hottie who belonged in a Hollywood movie—a thriller rather than a rom-com.

Trent slid his finger down her neck, and she quivered. She sucked in a breath causing her tingling breasts to rise. Her nipples tightened against her bra. “Like what you see?”

“No man will ever turn down a red lacy Victoria’s Secret,” he said, his gaze gliding between the valley of her breasts, making her heart flip in her chest. “But it’s still wrong to sneak in unauthorized merchandise.”

She unhooked the clasp of her bra, and lifted her chin in defiance. “Maybe there’s a way we can work on a common ground?”

He pushed her against the wall, and the bra slid off her arms. Her breath caught in her dry throat. “I’m all for common ground, Singer. So much that I want to finish this conversation naked. On the ground.”

He touched her tits, and she gasped. His hand was strong, manly, commanding. Her pussy clenched.

He’d screw her good. A jolt of anticipation moved through her body. And for once, she’d let him—

An annoying sound rang in her ears. She pressed her lips together to prevent an inconvenient moan from escaping. She embraced him tighter against her to keep him from vanishing, yet the noise persisted, and when she looked up, he was gone.

Well, crap.

Startled, she opened her eyes and glanced around. The stupid prison alarm yanked her from her reverie.

Mia had never been a morning person, but five a.m. pushed the limits. She heard her other three bunk mates mumble something and just nodded.

To confirm her sad reality, she peaked into her shirt and found the faded beige bra instead of the Victoria’s Secret lingerie. At least the yucky underwear stayed the hell out of her fantasy—she called them birth control fabric.

What the hell? She’d done most of her time. She’d survived fifteen months at a federal minimum-security facility and in two more months she’d be out.

Yet for the past twelve weeks, her life had changed dramatically. Her counselor Mr. Lawrence retired and newcomer Trent replaced him. She’d started having forbidden fantasies including Trent and, at times, she wondered if he knew. Whenever she’d gone for their weekly sessions, she’d shifted in her seat, restless, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying hard to conceal the delicious ardor burning her insides. Whenever he’d asked her anything her answers were monosyllabic and vague. He must think I’m crazy. Though hadn’t she caught him staring at her in silence? She swore a time or two his gaze slid down her neck and a smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

“Watcha thinking about Singer?” Jessica Thomaz, one of the older inmates asked. “You seem worried.”

“Oh.” She waved Jessica off. “Nothing. I’m good.”

In the morning, she went through the motions of sharing the bathroom with another twenty inmates in the midst of showering, brushing teeth and slapping on whatever minimum makeup Leland Correctional Center approved. Afterwards, she headed to the outside garden. Every few months, they rotated jobs so everyone learned new skills. The garden had been her favorite job so far. She loved being outdoors, touching dirt, and planting.

Before her appointment with Trent at the end of the afternoon she managed to stop by her bunk and put on some gloss, clean herself up and brush her teeth. During her stint in jail, she’d succeeded at going against her every instinct. Being invisible turned into her survival mode; it helped her keep out of fights and she even managed to make a couple of friends. Leland had suffocated her so much she’d have to relearn to breath on her own once she left.

She inhaled and read the sign in front of his room, Trent Coleman. The golden plaque was the only delicate thing about it. The door seemed a lot sturdier than the others in the hallway, and also unlike the others didn’t have a clear window to peek inside.

She smoothed down her hair, hoping her usually straight bob wouldn’t get all frizzy. At least summer had just ended. God, the humidity never favored fine hair.

“Singer. Come in,” he said, standing in the center of the room, as usual.

Mr. Lawrence often sat on his chair, rocking it back and forth as he spoke. He’d occasionally fuss over his glasses as he talked to her, but he never treated her the way Trent did. Trent waited until she sat on the chair across from him before taking a seat, and sometimes she imagined what kind of fabulous date he’d be. He’d probably bring flowers and be a generous lover. In her wet dreams he excelled at any and every sexual activity.

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