Page 19 of Enemy of the State

Her tantalization is all it takes to snap my weak, pathetic tether in half, and I launch myself at her. Grabbing her by the throat, I shove her against the tiled shower wall, ignoring the way the water soaks my clothes.

She can’t see through my mask, but I’m snarling as I growl, “That’s where you’re wrong, Lou. This place is mine, and I do what I want within these walls. If I want to touch, I will.”

Her pulse spikes beneath my thumb, and I tighten my grip as I cup her sex with my free hand. Before she can see it coming, I pull my hand back and slap her pussy.Hard.

She gasps, but her mouth quickly spreads into a wide, feral grin. It’s a smile thatbegsme to kiss it, fill it with my cock, and fuck it.

She’s still grinning when I release her and march back to my post against the wall, not caring about the water falling from my clothes in fat drops and pooling on the floor beneath me.

My eyes narrow on her still standing where I shoved her against the wall as I bite out a command. “Hurry up.”

Louhi bites her lower lip again, slowly moving backunderneath the spray. I’m halfway surprised that she hasn’t complained about the lack of amenities, but she hasn’t said a word. She works the bar of soap into a lather and attempts to wash her jet-black hair. Seeing as she’s the first female prisoner we’ve had here, it’s not as if we have girl shit—not that we’d let her use it if we had it.

Thinking about ‘girl shit’ leads me to making a mental note to talk to Jace later about the fact that she’s been here a whole month and, to my knowledge, hasn’t bled. I have a sister, so I know that should’ve happened already.Right?I swear to heaven and hell that she better not be pregnant. I don’t know much about menstruation, but she’s too young to have already gone through menopause, so what’s the alternative?

Zeroing in on her stomach, she doesn’tlookpregnant, the skin and muscle toned and taut, her abs on display as she moves the soap over herself.

Maybe she’s on some kind of birth control or something? That’s probably the more logical explanation. I could call Callie and ask her about this. Ah, fuck that, I’d rather just search online. I amnottalking to my sister about birth control methods.

She rinses her hair free of the suds and shuts off the water before dragging the towel over her body, drying off and wrapping her shoulder-length hair into the towel. After donning the clean clothes, she looks at me and audaciously snaps, “What about brushing my teeth?”

I pull a brand-new pre-pasted toothbrush from my pocket and pass it to her. I’m not atotalNeanderthal—I am, but that’s not the point. Of course, I planned to let her brush her teeth. It’s been nearly six weeks since she got here and this is the first time she’s been to use the washroom, so letting her brush her teeth seemed like the half-decent thing to do.

When she’s finished, I hold my hand out for both the trash and the toothbrush. No way am I letting her leave with that. Justbecause she hasn’t tried anything yet, doesn’t mean I don’t think she will.

She slaps the toothbrush into my palm as she asks, “Have you got a comb?”

I show no emotion as I pull the comb I spent far too long digging around for this afternoon from my pocket and pass it to her.

Taking it from me, she unwraps the towel from around her head, moving to stand in front of the lone mirror on the adjacent wall. I watch her make a face as she takes in her appearance in the mirror. I wonder what she sees, what she’s thinking, but her expression quickly morphs back into one that’s inscrutable and emotionless.

Thankfully, she makes hasty work of combing out her hair. Something tells me that this woman would takeforeverto get ready for a night out, though.

Once again, she smacks the comb back into my hand at the same time that her lips quirk into a smile drenched in impertinence. My patience wanes.Does she have no regard for her own life?

I’ve never been particularly tolerant of disrespect, but even less so now. The men in my unit know better than to talk back to me or question my authority. My word is law, with no one daring to push me. But this girl? She’s done nothing but crawl beneath my skin like an incurable rash, festering and itching, persisting no matter how hard I try to throw her from my mind.

“Time to go,” I grumble as I reach for the door, but Lou slides past me, brushing her long, slender fingers over my crotch—which has been harder than the concrete walls of this prison since we walked in the washroom. Halting her movements, I grab her delicate wrist, my fist swallowing it entirely.

I glare down at her, but she purrs, “It turns out that camouflage can’t hide a hard-on.”

The only thing worse than what she told me was the way her delicate fingers felt grazing the fabric of my pants.

Fuck me.This woman is going to be the death of me.

She swings open the door before I can reply and struts back down the hallway, Stuco hastening to catch up to her. Jace’s eyes track down my entire body, and when they reach my face, he states the obvious. “You’re wet.”

“No shit,” I mutter before stalking after Stuco and Louhi, Jace on my heels.

Louhi

As soon as I arrive back at my cell, I notice how clean it is. Okay,cleanisn’t the right word. I should say it’sless disgusting. The waste has been removed, and it appears that some kind of disinfectant has been haphazardly splashed around the space.

Once I’m locked inside the cage, I brace my forearms on the cold metal bars and stare at the three men, my lips tipping up into a smile. It’s not the same smile I gave Digs earlier, but it still reeks of danger…and other fun things.

Like that shower.

Taunting and teasing Digs is quickly becoming my favorite sport: pushing him to the brink so that his control is stretched so thin that it could snap at any moment.

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