Our chests brush as we square off. He juts his chin out in a challenge. “Maybe she and I should meet up.” He licks his lips. “I could have her coming on my cock in two minutes flat.”

I’m going to–

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel is off the bed, holding me back before I can land my first punch. As usual, Tao is useless in his bed, fiddling with his Rubix cube like nothing is going on. Asshole better be putting money on me to win.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl.

“I’ll leave a mark on her just like I left my handiwork on your chest.” He’s goading me. I know he is, but if he doesn’t stop talking in the next two seconds, I will bash his teeth out. “Isabella,” he sings her name.

I spring forward, regretting telling him her name a year ago just because he’s good with a needle and ink. Joel’s grip isn’t as tight as it should be, and I slip away. He yanks me back by the arm, hissing, “Don’t be stupid, boy. You gon’ let him stop you from seeing your girl?”

An animalistic noise settles low in my throat. Screw him for being right. I didn’t put up with and do all this shit for the past two and a half years just to stay back because of Rico.

Sensing that reason has gotten to me, Joel steps back. The smug grin on Rico’s face almost makes me question whether it’s worth not seeing Bella for a couple more months. Rico and I were getting along, and he just had to say stupid shit like that on my last day.

“Riviera,” someone calls. We all turn to see the bored-faced guard. “Hands.”

Joel slaps me on the back—not aggressively—and points a finger at my face. “You take care of her. Treat her right.”

It’s not like I’m going to do anything other than that. I grunt in response and grab my drawings of Bella—I’m not about to leave them here for them to jack off to. That’s for me to do.

“Hurry up. I haven’t got all day,” the guard drones.

He can wait as long as he needs. Fuck him.

I push the drawings through the feeder cap, and he takes them without question, shaking it out to ensure I’m not hiding a shiv.

Tao finally drops to the floor when I turn around. He holds his hand out to me. I take it and pull him closer. “You’re going to owe me two grand.”

He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

Prick.

I narrow my eyes at Rico, daring him to say something.

He lifts a shoulder. “See you ’round.”

I don’t answer and push my hands through the feeder. The cold metal cuffs dig into my wrists, then he unlocks the bars that separate us, and I step out of the cell. I don’t understand why we must go through these safety measures when I’m a free man today, but if having the shackles around my ankles and hands means I get to see Bella, so be it.

Back to holding my drawings, I look at my cellmates one last time and nod at them, then begin my walk toward freedom, passing whistling prisoners who bang on the metal bars in celebration. I don’t need to look at the Vargas men to know they’re glaring daggers at me. The Vargas “gang” is nothing but a bunch of disorganized idiots running around claiming they’re Chicago’s newest, scariest “cartel”, when a majority of their drugs get busted one way or another.

Rico and Damien aren’t worried about them, so neither am I.

One presses his head against the bars. “You better watch your back, boy,” he growls. I think his name is Gonzales? I don’t know. I’m bad at names. “Sleep with one eye open.”

“Frightening,” I deadpan, walking past without sparing him a second glance as I flip him the bird. “I’ve never heard that line before.”

He’s in here, and I’m out there.

It’s not my fault they didn’t pay attention to their shipment. They would have done the same thing if they had found someone else’s coke.

Just as I’m about to leave the wing, I hear Rico yell, “Say hi to Bella for me, hombre.”

Next time I see him, I'll break his nose.

There she is.

Fuck me.

She’s even more stunning than the last time I saw her. I didn’t think that was possible.

Hell, I thought I was going to die spending all this time apart from her.

She’s exactly where I left her, tucked in her bed, cuddling her rugged Mr. Mickey Mouse doll. It’s like she was waiting for me.

Bella doesn’t need to worry about school anymore. There’s no reason for her to still be under the same roof as Marcus and Greg. And yet, there she lies, waiting for me. My girl knew I’d come back for her, because I would never just leave her.

I’m not sure how long I’ve stood here, staring at her, familiarizing myself with having her bracelet back on my wrist after so long without it. She’s so vulnerable like this, tucked under the blanket I got her, dark hair fanned around her like an angel, golden skin illuminated by the moonlight spilling in through the slit between the curtains. Her soft breaths fill the room like a siren beckoning me closer.

I’m helplessly drawn to her as I move closer with silent footsteps, careful not to wake her. There will be a time for that, but not today.

I let myself touch her face. Her skin is so smooth, so perfect. I may make art, but she is art made flesh. Every stroke, every color. Masterpiece doesn’t come close to describing her.

Even with her asleep with not a care in the world, I’m entranced. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I’d die if it would make her happy.

At the risk of waking her, I kiss her lips. I need to feel them, even if just for a second. I need another reminder of how soft they are, and how sweet she tastes.

I can’t help myself from pulling her plump pink bottom lip in between my teeth. For most of my life, I’ve seen her bottom lip quiver. I wanted to know what it felt like to nibble on it, whether I could feel it tremble as I take the rest of her.

I still when Bella stirs. A breathy sound leaves her, just like it did when I had her legs wrapped around me over two and a half years ago. It would have been so easy to slide her pants down her legs and make her shatter around me.

My cock strains against my pants. Every noise in my head tells me to throw my plans out of the window and steal her away now, figure the rest out later.

She’s real. She’s not just a drawing or a part of my dreams. She’s flesh and bone, the only thing that matters. I can see her shape beneath the sheets. The curve of her waist and the arch of her ass.

It’s almost painful to look at because of how hard I’m getting, seeing the outline of her body under the cover of darkness and her sheets. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t this horny when I was a teenager.

No, actually, I was. I was probably worse. I used to be voice-activated. She’d laugh, and I’d be on like a light.

Unable to resist the urge, I slowly slide the blanket down her body. It’s the tail’s end of summer, so the nighttime chill is bearable—but not for Bella. I inhale sharply when I see her nipples poking against the fabric of her thin t-shirt.

My muscles tense. Does she walk out of her room like this? Has Marcus seen her like this?

Tearing my gaze from her for just a second, I find something that worsens the ache in my balls tenfold.

I don’t think, I just do.

I grab her panties from the top of her hamper, settle over her, pop the button of my jeans, and slip myself free. I bite back a groan the instant the pressure releases, but hiss through my teeth when her pretty pink cotton panties wrap around my cock.

My balls tighten, and I stroke myself once, staring at her sleeping form, completely oblivious to what I’m doing. I grit my teeth and think about something else to stop myself from coming immediately.

Triumph Speed Triple 1200RS, that Italian guy’s cooking videos, Bella ignoring me for almost three fucking years.

There’s no warmth left on her cotton panties, yet I imagine her wearing them all day, making them all nice and warm as she walks around, goes to work, and makes dinner. Then, just before she sleeps, she leans back against her pillows and slips her hands down her shorts, playing with her pussy. She imagines it’s me touching her, that it’s my cock filling her tight little cunt.