Yesterday I’d gone to a place in town that specialized in ultrasounds. I had some great shots to share with him, and a video on my phone.
I picked up the first photo, a view of the baby’s face and perfect lips, and pressed it to the glass.
We did this for five minutes as he studied each and every photo as if he was hungry for everything I had to give him.
And when the warden himself came in later on and said we had two minutes, I wanted to cry.
This was such a special time, and I didn’t want it to end.
“Sell the car,” Troup urged. “It’s worth more now than it was. It’s enough to cover anything you might need for a while.”
I wiped away the tears.
“I’m not selling your car.” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t sell it for lawyer fees, I’m not selling it for this.”
“You’re not working,” he countered.
I grinned. “I kind of am.”
When I got done explaining that I was working as a private investigator, he only shook his head. “You’re a crazy woman.” He paused as he stood up, phone still in his hand. “Take care of yourself, baby. I don’t want to lose either one of you.”
CHAPTER 17
You should ask her if she gained weight. That way she knows you’re paying attention to her.
-things not to do unless you want to die
TROUP
“Where am I going?” I asked the guard.
He was one of my favorites.
Not too pushy. Not an asshole.
Not anything.
I liked that he left me alone and didn’t expect me to jump to his every whim.
“There are trailers out back,” he said. “Ones that we use when family members die and shit.”
I felt bile rise in the back of my throat as I thought about the two family members that I would actually care about dying.
The guard read it on my face. “It’s not what you think. That’s not why you’re going there.”
I frowned.
“What are you…”
He opened a trailer door up, and there she was, standing there in a long white dress that flowed around her ankles.
The baby bump that’d been so blatantly obvious last week when she’d dressed to show it off—how had I missed that?—was more prominent this week.
My breath hitched in my throat.
“You have two hours,” the guard growled.
Then he was leaving.
He was leaving me alone. With my wife.
I moved quickly, launching myself up the two small steps that led into the depths of the trailer.
All the lights were off, but I didn’t care.
Neither, apparently, did Beckham.
Between one second and the next, she was in my arms.
Naked.
The dress had come off so fast that I hadn’t even seen it happening.
I groaned and buried my face into her neck, inhaling deeply.
She smelled like everything that I missed.
Clean soap, her favorite Bath and Body Cream, Vanilla Bean, and mine.
“Jesus,” I whispered. “It’s been so long.”
“Sit on the couch,” she urged, pushing me backward.
I hadn’t expected the push, so when I fell on my ass on the couch, I blinked up at her owlishly.
“What?” I asked
“We’re using this time in two ways,” she said as she prowled toward me, pulling a box out of her purse. “You’re going to allow me to make a mold of your cock so I can use it when I’m alone at night, and then when we clean it off, you’re going to let me ride it.”
“I don’t think we have that long,” I tried to argue.
Really, we likely did.
I didn’t know what the hell Beckham had on the warden, but she had to have something because he was allowing me to do things that nobody, not even his most favored inmates, were allowed to do.
Such as conjugal visits.
“How did you manage this?” I asked.
I’d been too worried to ask her when we’d been in that room with all the guards around.
“I’m finding dirt on all of Warden Stanley’s guards,” she answered as she slipped out of her panties. My dick went exponentially harder. “And I found his granddaughter. She’d been missing for four months.”
I didn’t care about his granddaughter. I didn’t care about the guards.
All I cared about was my wife.
I groaned at her luscious body.
“God,” I breathed as I stared at her tits. “They’ve gotten bigger.”
She bent over, causing them to sway with her movement, and came back up with a black tube.
I blinked.
“I got all this ready last night when Stanley told me that I’d have access to this trailer. I also sanitized it because I have no clue when the last time it’s been cleaned. This is ready.”
“What is this?” I asked as she waved the tube around.
“This,” she said as she popped the top off a tube that was filled with something. “Is silicone. I mixed it up when I heard you were on your way. I hope I got your measurements right.”
I frowned as she came at me with her tube of whatever.
I leaned forward and took it from her hand.
“We’re not doing this.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to.”
She leaned down and looked me directly in the eyes.
“Trouper,” she said. “I’m seven months pregnant. With your child. I can’t have your cock. And I’m horny. All. The. Time. We’re doing this whether you want to do it or not.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
Then, inevitably, gave her what she wanted.
“My cock’s not hard,” I lied.
It was hard.
But only because I knew she was right there, ready for me to sink into.
And God, her breasts were once again swaying in my face.
I reached out and captured her nipple into my mouth, and she gasped.
“We only have a short window,” she groaned as she tried to pull away.
My hand on her ass, pulling her forward, was enough to get her to stay.
“I need you to put your cock into this.” She gasped as she came down farther onto my lap.
God, she was beautiful. All ass and tits. And the belly was really doing it for me.
It wasn’t much.
Honestly, it was surprising that she was already seven months because she didn’t look all that big.
But it was really doing things to my cock.
“I need your cock,” she breathed.
And I wasn’t sure whether she was asking for my cock to put in her torture device, or my cock deep inside her pussy.
Because only one of those I really wanted myself.
“You need to be naked,” she grumbled as she pulled away.
I allowed her nipple to pop free of my mouth, causing a loud pop to fill the room.
She groaned and pulled away. “Off with your clothes.”
I stood up, crowding her close, and slowly started to shuck out of my stupid orange jumpsuit.
I wanted to burn it.
I hated it so fuckin’ much.
I was used to wearing jumpsuits. Flight suits. Not prison clothes.
This stupid orange filth felt like a chain around my neck.
But I forgot all about that chain when it slipped from my body.