For as high as I’m feeling, the dude seems even more smitten, and it’s worrying…
I think I’m seeing the reason for the cage now.
“Sir, wereallyhave to go,” Kent barks.
“Let the place fucking burn,” he mutters as they leave, closing and locking the door behind him. He casts me one last look, crooning, “Buenos noches, Angelito. Sueña de mio.”
Dream of me…
Sweet…soft… trembling flesh.
Pop!
Warm breaths, gasping. Rasping.Purring.
Pop pop!
I close my eyes tight and squeeze, ignoring it. Desperate to stay in this reverie…
“Come deep in me, baby.”
“God damn.” I bite the tip of my thumb.
“Spill it in my pussy… Manuel Blanco.”
Pop pop pa-pop pop pop!
Growling out loud, I grab the walkie, slamming down on the button and snarling into it, “Pull back!Rightthe fuck now.”
The gunfire stops. But I get no response.
My jaw tics. “Are we fuckingclear??”
“Ten-four, sir,” Pedroia croaks over the channel, and I roll my eyes, tossing the walkie.
Sucking in a deep breath, I can finally fucking think straight again, without all that goddamnnoise.
Jesus…
They don’t tell you how loud war is until it’s outside your goddamn home, twenty-four goddamn hours a day.
Slumping back in my chair, I attempt to go back to daydreaming, but it’s no use. The stupid gunfire ruined it. And I’m salty.
But no matter. It’s already nearly sundown, which means in only a few short hours, I’ll be with him again…
Mi pajarito.
For our… date.
My mouth is doing something crazy, so I force it to stop, pursing my lips into a frown. But it won’t take. I just keepsmiling. I can’t stop.
I have a date…?
Really?Me??
I’ve never had a date before…
I know, that’s sort of pathetic. I’m forty-five years old, going on my first date, in my house, with my twenty-two-year-old prisoner.
