“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, checking his neck and head before beginning to work down his chest and arms.

My mouth watered as I lifted his shirt over his head and revealed his hard chest. The memories of how he took me hard and fast heated me from within. His muscles rippled with each bit of movement, and I had to resist running my fingers over his chest and down to the small line of hair that escaped into the top of his pants.

Ever since our first time, he was all I could think about. I wanted him. My body craved him even more so now. Tiny twinges of desire lit my insides on fire, making my pussy clench and melt. I took a deep breath, letting my fingers glide over his skin, and his eyes softened.

“Lyla,” he said in annoyed pleasure, covering my hand with his own and stopping my exploration.

Loosening his hold, I continued to run my fingers professionally over his back, enjoying the feel of his firm body beneath my touch. My palms slid over his hot flesh, making my stomach tighten with desire. I imagined it was my tongue tasting the saltiness of his skin, and my mouth watered for just a tiny taste of him.

I wanted to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. Drive him crazy with my tongue until he exploded down the back of my throat. These were thoughts I didn’t usually have. Actually, I never thought about giving blow jobs, but I wanted to pleasure him the way he had me so many times already.

Sweat glistened on his skin, making his tattoos look wet. They were strong and bold like the man who wore them. It was a major turn on for me.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice strained full of need.

“I’m examining you.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes heating with lust and pent-up desire.

“Did you hear what I just said, Lyla?” He turned my way, his eyes begging me.

As I came around the side of him, I examined the bruises that were coming up on his arms and chest again. They were deep and just looking at them made me wince. As I gingerly touched them, he looked at me with tenderness.

“You’re in danger. Someone knows you’ve been digging in my file.”

My hands paused, and my heart skipped a beat. I glanced over at Douglas and Reeves to make sure they weren’t paying us any attention. Douglas was on the phone behind the desk, but Reeves glanced my way and cocked a knowing brow.

“How do you know?” My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, the penitentiary felt way too small.

“You’ve been green-lighted.” His jaw was tense, the muscle popping out and throbbing.

The desire to reach up and smooth the tension out moved through me. “What does that even mean?”

“It means there’s a bounty on your head. Someone’s willing to pay a lot of money to have you killed.”

Fear.

It was deep and daunting. It hitched a ride at my heart and rode its way through my veins, filling my body completely until I was sure I was going to pass out.

Charlie was right. I’d stirred up a shit storm and now I was going to pay for it. I wanted to shut it all out and crawl into X’s arms. Wanted him to hold me and keep me safe, but he couldn’t. He was too busy being locked behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit.

Again, my eyes scanned the room, landing on Douglas and Reeves. “I’ll be okay. The COs will keep them away from me.”

His eyes widened, and his head whipped around at me. “Are you fucking serious right now?” he hissed. “The COs are just as dangerous, Lyla. They get paid for shit working at Fulton. I’m talking minimum-wage bullshit. You don’t think they’ll want that money just as bad as the inmates?”

The truth of what he was saying hit me, and I backed away from him. He looked at the officers and made a fist as if to keep himself from touching me and keeping me there.

“Lyla, wait,” he said, begging with his eyes for me to stay.

But I couldn’t stay. I excused myself, suddenly feeling as if I needed to catch my breath. I retreated behind the door of the storage room, dizzy and disoriented. Someone wanted me dead—paying money to have me killed. I worked with thousands of murderers, and now there were dirty cops to worry about as well?

My mind spun, and I tried to push it aside. My dad’s face popped into my head, and I silently wished he were still there with me. He would know what to do. He would protect me no matter what.

Dr. Giles entered a minute later, his face etched in concern. “You okay, Lyla?”

I gave him a smile I didn’t feel and nodded. “I’m okay. Just getting some things.”

I picked up a batch of gauze and turned to leave to the room, but Giles stopped me with a gentle hand.




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