Page 57 of The Convict Gets His Girl

She came with a loud scream, her body convulsing around him, muscles clenching and pulling him deeper. Chase groaned, his rhythm faltering as her orgasm milked his cock. With a few more brutal thrusts, he swelled inside her, filling her completely and making her spasms continue.

Her body shuddered, heart pounded, and the fire licked her from the inside out. Every nerve ending quivered, and for several moments, they remained locked together, both breathing heavily. Chase's weight pressed her into the mattress, his forehead resting against her shoulder. He began to kiss her shoulder softly, slowly, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, spooning her even as he slipped out and left her feeling empty. Jewel knew she should move, should create some distance, but her body felt boneless and heavy. Her eyes remained closed in exhaustion, physical, mental, and emotional. His arm draped possessively around her waist and up between her breasts, his hand settled over her heart.

He breathed a contented sigh into the hair at her nape, and she nestled her ass closer to him until they were melded together from entwined ankles to shoulders.

"Just for tonight," he murmured into her hair, his voice a mixture of statement and question.

She said nothing, her eyes flying open. Jewel knew they would have to talk, eventually. About prison. About Destini. About whatever this was between them. She'd prefer to deal with one problem at a time, and she needed time to recover from the crisis of today.

His breathing evened in sleep, his body relaxing behind her. Her eyes flickered closed again, even though her heart still raced with such an unknown future.

ChapterTwenty-One

Chase walked into the small storefront that served as the therapist's office a few blocks off Main Street, the bell dinging as he pushed the door open. The scent of a diffuser wafted in the air and the light was soft compared to the bright Texas sun outside, leading to a more cozy, welcoming environment.

Two couches faced each other with a coffee table between. Zarrel looked up from a couch and head bobbed a welcome, his hulking presence easygoing compared to others Chase had met in prison. Chase removed his sunglasses and baseball cap as he took a seat on the other couch across from Zarrel.

As the bell faded, Tasha stepped out of a room in the back, a wide smile on her face. Brown hair swept into a low ponytail and glasses firmly on her face, she had become a confidant the past year since his release.

She sank into a plush wingback chair and grabbed her notepad from the side table. Poised and attentive, she flipped open her notepad with an encouraging smile.

"Let's start by checking in," she suggested, her voice a soothing balm to them both. "How are y'all feeling today?"

Zarrel shrugged and scratched his jaw. "Doin' a'ight. Work is working. Went to see my sister in Dallas this weekend, and I've never been more glad to live here."

He explained about a run-in his sister had with some of her co-workers, Tasha asking questions here and there before she observed, "Seems like you've been visiting her more this year."

"I worry about her—want to make sure she's got everything she needs." He shifted in his chair, muscles tensing beneath his shirt. "That's why I'm grinding at the bakery and the Old Mill. Gotta build up more savings, so if something happens to her, I can take care of her and her kids."

"If you want me to look at your money, I'm happy to help," Chase offered. "My brothers and Lola can vouch for my services, even though I haven't passed my CFA exam yet."

Zarrel smiled. "I was actually waiting until you passed the exam before bugging you about it, but if you're willing now, I'll gladly take you up on that."

Chase nodded and rubbed his hands on his thighs, needing the abrasive texture of the jeans on his skin. "I got you, man."

Chase felt a kinship with Zarrel, another soul striving for redemption in a world quick to judge and slow to forgive. They were men chasing after second chances, reaching for a happiness that seemed just beyond their scarred fingertips. He'd do anything legal he could to help the man succeed, just like he'd offered those friends he'd made in prison.

"How have you been, Chase? How's your mom doing?" Tasha asked.

He frowned, a heavy silence falling over him as he stared at the carpet, tracing patterns with his eyes before lifting his gaze to meet Tasha's expectant one.

"I've been alright, but emotions have been all over the place."

"Your mom's accident and major surgery on her hip can be second-hand traumatic for you, remember? You have to give yourself grace with it."

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know, but it's not just my mom that's got me stressed. I got some news a few months ago that has me re-assessing my future."

"What do you mean?" Tasha asked, scribbling on the notepad. "Are you still going to take the exam?"

He shrugged, his voice softer than he wanted as he struggled to voice his feelings. "Yeah, that's not what I'm questioning. I feel confident about the exam. It's more everything else about being an adult. I found out that I might have a teenage daughter, so I signed on a house this morning."

The room went silent, but he didn't look up.

"Um, what now?" Zarrel asked. "A daughter with whom?"

He tilted his head and shook it. "I—can't share that yet. We're waiting on the DNA results. I haven't even met her—ifI'm her dad, I want to tell her first before anyone else."

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