Velvet Roses Ch. 14

Maybe they are.

No sooner had the thought gone through his head, did he feel a twinge of uneasiness, and hoped like hell that Jeneda would be able to retain her privacy. The last thing he needed was some unbalanced female trying to attack her, especially with all the turmoil she'd already suffered through.

With a slight shake of his head, he placed the fan mail and Cassie's letter in the shoebox beneath his bed. Then he kicked off his shoes and swung his legs up onto the stained mattress.

Since his AM/FM radio was issuing nothing but static, Dane removed his headphones, and as he did, was thankful to find that the sounds of non-consensual sexual activity had finally died down. This gave him the chance to re-read Jeneda's letter in peace, but before he could indulge himself, a deep voice called out to him.

"Hey, you over there."

Dane looked up to see a bald Hispanic man with a barreled chest and a neck as thick as a telephone pole staring right at him. His powerfully built arms were covered in crudely drawn tattoos, and the hard stare he gave Dane was nothing less than intimidating. It was probably meant to test Dane's confidence, but never one to back down from a challenge, Dane only glared back with matched intensity.

"What?" Dane irritably asked.

"How long you in for?"

"Seven months."

"Yeah? And how old are you?"

"Thirty-one."

"No shit, you look younger."

Dane said nothing in return, only averted his attention to the letter in his hand.

"Hey boy, I ain't done speaking with you yet."

Dane looked back up, and as his gaze locked with the other prisoner's, he narrowed his eyes.

"You looking for a daddy?"

"No," Dane firmly said.

"You need protection, I got your back."

Knowing all too well that sexual favors would be required in exchange, Dane quickly declined the offer.

"Not interested."

"So you'd rather get your ass beat?"

"I can take care of myself."

A harsh chuckle preceded the other man's words. "Yeah right, kid. You know what the booty bandits do to guys like you in here?" He paused, as if to give Dane the chance to speak, but when he didn't, the bald man continued. "They make you their punk. Their female. Their sissy boy."

Dane knew the man was trying to instill fear in him, and a feeling of sickness had begun to build in his stomach, but the stony expression on his face kept his inner feelings well concealed.

"They'll sell your ass to every guy in the cell block," he said. "You wanna be a sex slave?"

The man gazed at Dane eagerly, as if expecting him to accept the offer of protection, but before Dane could once again refuse the man's proposition, sounds of a violent altercation drifted from somewhere down the hall.

Loud curses, coupled with the meaty sounds of flesh beating flesh ripped through the air. Encouraging yells came from the crowd of onlookers, and as the bellows grew louder, Dane noticed five guards armed with nightsticks rush past his cell.

Not really wanting to see, yet too curious not to look, Dane got up and peered between the iron bars of his enclosure. The crowd of onlooking prisoners was so thick that Dane couldn't even tell who was fighting, but he could hear the shouting and grunting of those involved in the altercation.

With each passing second, the crowd appeared to be growing more excited, but as the guards descended upon them, the orange-clad prisoners retreated. With nightsticks in hand, the correctional officers began viciously clubbing them, and within a few short minutes, had effectively gained control of the chaotic cell block.

While three of the guards guided the remaining onlookers back to their cells, the other two correctional officers pulled apart the fighting inmates. Then grabbing them each by their collar, they escorted the bloodied men further down the hall.

Dane didn't have to guess as to where they were going, because he'd already heard about 'the hole,' and after returning to his bed and stretching out on it, he rolled over onto his side. His eyes came to rest on the dirty wall beside him, and as he focused on the photo that was taped to its surface, he let out a pensive sigh.

Three long weeks had passed since he'd last held Jeneda in his arms, and as he imagined her living life on the outside without him, a pang of longing settled in his chest.

It only took a few minutes for the longing to transform into frustration, and as his frustration grew into anger, his jaw unconsciously tightened.

It was because of his own stupidity that he was currently living in this miserable, stinking shithole, and as he continued to stare desirously at Jeneda's picture, he inwardly cursed himself.

At this very moment, the woman he loved-the only one who had ever completely captured his heart, was alone and vulnerable to various men who walked freely in the outside world. The thought alone drove him crazy with jealously, and as he imagined another man being afforded the pleasure of making love to her, he began breathing heavily through his nose.

Realizing that he was on the verge on a panic attack, Dane took a few deep breaths, and as his heart rate began to slow, he said a few assuring words to himself.

"She's mine," he whispered beneath his breath. "She loves me, and she'll remain faithful. I know she will."

He nervously raked his fingers through his hair, then rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He could have stared blankly up at it for an indefinite amount of time, but as the lights went out and everything went pitch black, he closed his eyes.

Less than a minute passed before an image of Jeneda came into his head, and as he imagined her laying spread eagle on the bed in his apartment, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his tenting pants. In his mind, Jeneda pleaded desperately for his cock, and as he envisioned himself sinking deep into her warm, wet pussy, he began jacking himself off.

"Mine," Dane moaned out huskily, and as he quickly stroked his steely erection, he lost himself in the pleasure of his touch; and in thoughts of her silken heat tightly sheathing his swollen flesh.