Captive Audience (3 page)

She stared at him, eyes wide. Mickey knew she should be furious at his audacity, his boldness. But this was the first time any man had ever talked to her that way, and damn if it didn’t feel good.

Jake reached out his hand over the scant inches between them, slipped it through the bars, and gripped her hip, pulling her close to him. She gasped and swayed a bit as he pressed his hard length against her. He began to squeeze her hip rhythmically, grinding almost imperceptibly against her sweet spot.

She backed away, out of reach, panic lapping at her. Her pussy was wet and ached for him, but she held fast. “You’re going to get me fired, Thompson. You cannot touch me again,” she warned in a low whisper.

“Okay then, I won’t. Not until you ask me to. But it isn’t against the rules to think about someone, is it? So tonight I want you to think about me. And know that I’m thinking about you. All right, Gracie?” he asked, his voice husky with need.

Like a marionette, Mickey was helpless to stop herself from nodding.

“You should go.” Then he added, loud enough for anyone who might be within earshot, “Thanks for explaining that to me, Officer Grace. I’m still getting used to all the ins and outs of things here, so it really helps.” And with that he turned and went back to his bunk.

Mickey walked away from the cell on jittery legs and finished her rounds on autopilot. She knew she had to stop this madness but was so drawn to this man and his raw sexuality, she just didn’t know how.

She entered the control room and shut the door, locking it behind her. Leaning against it, she was glad to have the barrier between her and the rest of the world for a moment. It was one thing to have these sick desires, but it was another to act on them. Nice women were not supposed to enjoy sex…to
crave
sex. They were only supposed to tolerate it.

Suddenly, something snapped inside her.
Fuck it!
She was not a nice woman then, because she was sick to death of holding back. Sick of pretending she didn’t want it and trying to hide who and what she was. With a steely resolve, she moved toward the monitors, turning all off but one. She adjusted the picture on 742 and zoomed in close. In the dim light, she could make out Jake, standing next to his bed. Mickey glanced at the clock. Ten thirty on the nose. At that moment Jake, too, looked up at the clock in his cell and smiled, then turned to face the camera. He backed up slowly, sitting on the edge of his bunk out of sight of the opposite cells. After folding his pillow behind him so he could recline, he eased back. Mickey edged forward in her chair, holding her breath. She watched as his right hand slowly disappeared down the front of his pants and his left moved up to his chest to tug at his nipple.

Jake’s gaze never left the camera and he began stroking himself over his pants, not yet baring himself to her. Mickey groaned as she too reached down and plucked at her already swollen nipple. She bit her lip and moaned. Damn, it had been so, so long. She rocked on her chair, trying to ease the pressure between her thighs. Trembling, she reached down and unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt. She moved a hand down the front of her bra and cupped the fullness of one breast, again tugging the nipple, this time a little harder. She snaked her other hand toward the button on her pants. As it opened, she quickly slid the zipper down and cupped herself.

Mickey splayed her hand over her pussy and groaned as she began to rub her clit with her fingertips. As she watched Jake she became unbearably frustrated, wanting to come just watching him, but feeling empty inside as she hungrily eyed his huge cock. She tried to fight the waves lapping at her, ready to crash, but knowing that relief would be fleeting. She wanted–no,
needed
–to feel him inside her. Whimpering in frustration, she slid two fingers into her pussy, and groaned as it pulsed and squeezed. She struggled to get her fingers deeper, so deep that she could imagine it was Jake’s cock pounding into her. She moaned and again fought off the climax threatening to suck her under, grasping at the last vestiges of her self-control.

Jake stared into the camera and tried not to close his eyes as he imagined Mickey’s full breasts, nipples primed for sucking, underneath that uniform. He imagined what they would look like, imagined pressing his thick cock between those silken breasts and her squeezing them together as he pumped his shaft up and down.

Suddenly impatient, he drew his cock out of his pants. He squeezed the head and groaned as a drop of cum beaded at the tip. He imagined Mickey, kneeling before him, lapping it away and sucking him deep into her mouth. Jake stroked faster. He thought of her in the control room, watching him, and he began to work himself in harder, longer strokes as he pictured her playing with herself. Pinching those firm nipples, sliding a feminine finger into that damp crease and then deep inside her tight pussy. He released his nipple and lowered his hand to squeeze his balls, pulling as the pressure built low in his belly. If he didn’t slow down, he would be done before they even star–

Brisk footsteps echoed down the hallway and Jake almost groaned out loud. He was just about to come, had hoped she had been just about to come with him, and now some asshole was going to cut him short. He growled in frustration but released his throbbing cock and sat up quickly to adjust himself.

He looked up as the footsteps reached his door. He heard the buzz of a radio and then CO Sarguchi speaking in hushed tones.

“Hey Mickey, what’s going down? I’m going to get a coffee. Want one?”

Mickey’s voice crackled over the line, sounding a bit breathless. “No thanks, Rich. I’m good.”

“You okay? You sound a little funny.”

“Nope, fine, just a little wired from too much caffeine,” she replied, her voice leveling out.

Jake lay back and let out a curse. Thanks to cock-block Sarguchi, he was probably back to square one with Officer Mickey Grace. Fucking fabulous.

Chapter Five

Holy shit. Just…just holy shit. That was a close call. She could have been caught. If Rich had stopped in instead of calling first she would have had to open the control room door flushed and disheveled and he would have known something was up. Mickey didn’t know the exact policy on fondling oneself at work, but she was fairly certain it was frowned upon.

She’d gone too far. She was risking her job and her reputation for some guy she hardly knew. And the situation was so outside the norm, who could say if any of the attraction they felt for each other was genuine? She had come very close to doing something truly reprehensible. No matter that Jake was the one making the moves and they had only actually touched one time for a fleeting moment. There was a code she’d sworn to uphold, and for one wild and crazy moment she had lost sight of that. It wouldn’t–
couldn’t
–happen again.

Mickey weighed her options. She could request a transfer to another block. Things could go back to the way they used to be, before she ever saw Jake Thompson. Back to nonprescription eyeglasses and frumpy clothes. Back to being invisible. And alone.

In her experience, men were like magpies on the lookout for something shiny. Once she hid the things they were drawn to, it was like she didn’t exist. Except for Jake. He had noticed her, seen through the facade. Would she ever find a guy like that out in the real world?

When Mickey laid her head down that night, sleep was a long time coming.

* * * * *

She woke the next morning tired, but resolved. She was going to avoid Jake for a few days until she could think with a cooler head. And in the meantime, she was going to allow herself to
be
herself. Come what may, she was done hiding.

Mickey decided to play hooky from school and hit the mall instead. She left the house with her hair down and her glasses on the nightstand. Bounding from store to store, she managed to spend almost her entire paycheck on new clothes, shoes, and makeup.

When it was finally time to get ready for her night shift at the prison, she did so as a normal, attractive, secure woman might. No minimizing bra, no ill-fitting uniform. Her new pants fit her as pants should. Her shirt was athletic cut, actually fitting her trim waist before widening to accommodate her full breasts. Her makeup was light and tasteful. Her hair was in a soft knot at the nape of her neck.

She breezed through the prison entrance, marched through the metal detectors, and gave the sheriff a smile as he stared.

“Hey Burt!” she called over her shoulder to him.

“Hey yourself,” he managed weakly.

Stopping by the break room to grab a doughnut on her way to the control room, she ran into Rich. He was eating a jelly doughnut himself and began to choke in earnest when she entered.

Mickey hurried over and began pounding on his back. “Hey Rich, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he wheezed. “Musta…ahem…musta breathed in the powdered sugar.”

“Want me to get you some coffee to wash it down?”

“Nah, I’m okay now. Hey, listen, Mick, would you want to–” He stopped short as Warden Samuel Eller entered the room.

“Well, Officer Sarguchi, why don’t you introduce me to the visiting CO?” he asked, looking expectantly at Rich, then gesturing to Mickey.

She felt her face heat. “It’s me, Warden. Mickey Grace?”

The warden’s face tightened. “Officer Grace, I didn’t recognize you. I apologize,” he said stiffly, then moved toward the coffeemaker.

Mickey couldn’t understand what had just happened. On occasion, if they were short staffed, COs from other area prisons would come in and work to pick up some overtime. Apparently the warden had mistaken her for a CO from another county, but that didn’t explain why he was so cold to her when she’d corrected him.

Mickey told Rich she would see him on the block and excused herself, desperate to be out of there. As she entered the control room she ran smack into Manny.

“Whoa!” he said, laughing and grabbing her arms to steady them both.

She looked up and met his eyes.

“Mickey,” he said, concern clouding his face as he took in her appearance.

“Hi Manny,” she replied, suddenly miserable and self-conscious.

He sighed, releasing her arms and stepping back from her. “I think we should talk, one friend to another.”

“Okay.”

“First, let me say you look…stunning.” His dark eyes probed hers.

She gave him a nod and a tight smile. Jesus, she wished he would just spit it out.

“But this,” he continued, gesturing a hand at her up and down. “This isn’t going to fly. They are never going to promote you looking like that. And they will never take you seriously, here or in Homicide.”

In a flash, the repressed fury of the past five years boiled over. “This is the way I look and I’m sick to death of hiding to please everyone else. I’m not flaunting myself, or dressing inappropriately. The only skin showing is on my hands and my face. What could they say to me?” she demanded.

Manny didn’t waver. “I’m not the enemy here. I’m telling you as a friend. They aren’t going to fire you or say you’re too pretty or any of that. They’re going to make you want to quit. I understand that it isn’t fair. But this is a boys’ club. And the only reason they let you in before is because you were…but now…” He trailed off.

“Now what?” she challenged.

“Now you’re a distraction. And, think about your bid to make sergeant. You make sergeant looking like that and how do you think everyone is going to say you got the job? Knowing that, what politician is going to promote you?”

His expression softened, pity in his kind eyes. “Right or wrong, there’s a reason pretty girls don’t work here.” He turned to gather his things and sign out. “I’m done lecturing. I just wanted to make sure you were prepared. You do what you’re going to do.” He opened the door to leave, and looked back at her. “For what it’s worth, I hope you stick around.” And he left.

Mickey dropped to the chair heavily, her legs too weak to hold her. Maybe he was wrong. That’s the way it used to be, but surely times had changed?

Deep down, though, she knew better.

Chapter Six

The night passed in a haze. Mickey had made sure to steer clear of Jake, having Rich handle that side of the block and avoiding the inmate’s gaze as he entered the cafeteria. She tried not to dwell on why it made her feel so crummy.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Manny said. The prisoners did not help disprove his theory as they whispered and stared at her. There had been some of that in the past, just by virtue of the fact that she was a woman, but tonight it had been out of hand. She had pulled two inmates from rec time and returned them to their cells for making rude comments within her hearing. By the end of her shift she was practically in tears.