Page 201 of Fragments
It doesn’t take long before he’s lowering himself with my pants.
When his lips wrap around my cock, I become weightless. Every moment I’m with him is hectic as fuck. It’s been this way since the day we met. He’s an unpredictable storm, this man. Constantly tossing me back and forth, knocking the air out of me while I keep scrambling up, just trying to hang on.
But I want to see this through to the break. No matter how dangerous, or scary, or downright stupid, I can’t help how starved I am for his rainbow when the clouds part.
Even if it destroys me in the process, from such a sweet, beautiful scorching flame… I can’t help but crave hisburn.
Days pass…
“Morning, beautiful…”
My face slopes right. And I smile. “Hi.”
Lex frowns. “That’s it…? Justhi?That’s all I get??”
I purse my lips, playing coy for all of two-seconds before it starts to drive me crazy and I murmur, “Are you a parking ticket?”
He’s already cracking up while I hold in my own giggles as best I can. “Wha—”
“’Cause you’ve gotFINEwritten all over you,” I gasp, immediately dying.
“I really cannot with you.” He sighs out his laughter, shaking his head.
“You love it.” I peek at him while we leave the row, following the rest of the group along to dinner.
“Mmm… maybe a little,” Lex hums, slipping his fingers over the bandage on my wrist before threading them through mine.
Things feel… good, for the moment.
The gash on my wrist is healing nicely.
From what I hear, the summer heat is cooling off outside, and the leaves between the mansion and the prison are changing colors.It sounds lovely.
Joy’s been letting me, Lex, and Byron walk around uncuffed, for the most part. It was supposed to be just me, while my wrist healed. But I threatened to make a scene if she didn’t allow my friends free use of their hands too, and she conceded. I mean, she called me anobnoxious bitch, but that’s to be expected.Plus, it’s true.
And to top it all off, things with Lex are…Sigh.
That’s how they are.A dreamy sigh from the lips of a former skank.
He still refuses to call himself myboyfriend, which irks me to no end. But I get it. We’re taking things slow… Fucking whenever we have the chance, but keeping our affections toned down in public, so as not to trip the Warden’s radar again.
But I don’t think we need to worry much about being kept apart. Because this time, I have the head honchos on my side.
Velle is in charge of this island right now, with Joy and Rook as his partners, both inside these dank halls, and out. And thanks to the deal I made with him, I can breathe slightly easier. The fact that I’m no longer offering up my services to guards in exchange for supplies and extra privileges doesn’t matter as much when I have Alabaster Isle’s own power throuple watching out for me—and Lex, by association.
I’m still not sure what happened between the Velle and the Warden, but I assume it was some kind of big blow-out, from which Velle emerged victorious. Joy even told us they got to take the Warden’s yacht out for a prison guard boat party over the summer—wasn’t jealous of that at all.And according to my sources, Rook’s family came to visit him at the mansion, after the three of them went to Boston for a long weekend to visit Joy’s parents.
It’s beyond crazy. I used to think the guards were chained up just as much as we are, and sure, at one time, they probably were. But whatever went down between Velle and The Ivory has apparently changed up the game quite a bit. Manuel Blanco’s guard dog is officially off his leash…I have to assume he isn’t pleased about that.
But who knows. Maybe it was an amicable agreement they came to. The Ivory doesn’t seem like the type to let things slide… Though if therewasone person I think he’d potentially bend to, it’d be Velle.
Not getting involved. But I’m sure my little birdies will tweet tweet soon enough.
Lex’s warm hand envelopes mine as he tugs me along. My eyes have very little interest in leaving his stunning features for more than a second, but they manage to extract themselves long enough to glide over to Byron, who’s scowling at nothing.
He’s been doing that a lot lately.
“Psst… Hey, B,” I whisper. He ignores me. “Um, hello… Earth to Byron!” I start snapping my fingers at him, and he pauses his grumpy, cold-shoulder routine to peek at me. “Velle’s getting me my gun back this weekend. Wanna celebrate? I’m thinking, a nice big butterfly tramp-stamp on your lower back. Ooh! Or, how about the Hamburglar on your pelvis?”
