Page 10

Sean

“You working out with us today?” Jace asks from behind me as I stare at the monitor in front of me, displaying all the cameras in Block One. “It’s leg day,” he adds.

“I’ll join you when I’m done. I’ve got something to do here,” I tell him. Glancing over my shoulder, I find we’re still alone in the barracks.

Cocking his head to the side, his dark eyebrows crinkle. “Need help?”

“Just reviewing some footage before Thompson gets here.”

He snorts, bending to lace up his sneakers. “More like deleting evidence that you’ve been taking care of an inmate.”

I say nothing, turning back to the cameras. Jace is the only other soldier here with access to the footage, but Thompson would have access here, too, and if he asked to see something, I wouldn’t be able to refuse him. While he’s never asked to see footage before, I don’t want to risk being unprepared.

I’d much rather face the consequences of showing him a tape of deleted footage than the punishment that would come with presenting evidence that I’ve been tending to the wounds of a prisoner.

Without asking, I know he’d tell me to let the gangrene or infection set in. If it were any other inmate, I’d have no problem with that, but something about Louhi is different, which is why I’m skipping the mandatory gym time—yet another thing I could get in trouble for; add it to my tab—to erase the proof of my questionable actions.

“Hey, no shade, man,” Jace comments, and I sigh, dropping my forehead into my palms as I lean forward on my elbows.

“She’s fucking with me,” I grumble.

He huffs, the sound full of mirth. “I think that’s just who she is.”

Therein lies my problem.

Navigating to yesterday’s footage, I scroll through the list of cameras until I find the one that reads: CELL EIGHT. Even if Thompson wasn’t coming here today, I’d only have forty-eight hours to erase the footage before it’d get stored on the government’s server somewhere.

“I’ll meet you in the gym when I finish this.”

“You know I’m going to force you into doing an extra set of squats for every one you miss just for making me put up with Borman and Stuco.”

I chuckle. “That’s fair. Just toss on some Knocked Loose to drown out the sounds of them metaphorically sucking each other’s dicks.”

He grunts, and I know if I turned around, I’d find a grimace on his face at the prospect of subjecting himself to Knocked Loose. Instead, I keep my eyes fixed on the screen as I appear, opening Louhi’s cell.

A second later, the door to the barracks opens, then closes, leaving me with only the past for company. Less than a minute later, the sound of a true throwback seeps under the crack at the bottom of the door as “Monster” by Skillet serenades me from where he blasts it from the gym.

Knocked Loose would be a better choice.

After isolating the time slot where I tend to Lou, I delete the ten-minute chunk of footage, praying that no one will ask about it. It’s not the first time I’ve deleted myself caring for her and, unfortunately, it probably won’t be the last—even if I want it to be.

With the weight of that footage lifted from my shoulders, I jump to the active feed, planning to check on all the fuckers in Block One before joining Jace. God knows I don’t want to have to do more than one or two extra sets of squats.

Where I expect to see Lou working out, I find her leaning against the back wall of her cell, staring directly into the camera. It feels like she’s looking at me, her face cast in shadow, her dark irises seeming to stare into my soul. I can’t tell if she’s blinking at this distance, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the little witch wasn’t.

The way she’s staring at me is unnerving, sending a chill down my spine, the room suddenly feeling icy.

Moving my curser to the top corner, I’m about to exit out of the feed entirely when Louhi smiles, the expression unlike any I’ve seen from her before. No, the smile she wears now bleeds seduction, tempting me to watch what she does next.

And I do.

On screen, Lou’s hand leisurely glides up her torso, her graceful fingers slipping around the column of her neck. Her touches appear gentle as she caresses her skin, skating down to trace her exposed collarbone with the backs of her fingers.

What the fuck does she think she’s doing?

My dick lengthens inside my boxer-briefs as I lean forward on the squeaky swivel chair, swallowing thickly as her other hand comes up to squeeze her breast through her uniform top.

Oh, fuck.

Rubbing at my jaw, I tell myself that I shouldn’t be watching this. Anyone could walk in and catch me.

She likes to fuck with me, and Jace was spot on when he said that’s just who she is, so is that what’s going on here?

Or is she just horny and bored?

Like I’m the King Cobra and she the snake charmer, I watch, transfixed, as she slips her hand into the waistband of her black uniform pants. I suck in a breath and hold it when she promptly removes her hand, sucking her middle finger into her mouth.

My cock jumps, and I grit my teeth to mute my groan, begging myself to shut this down, to turn off the monitor and walk the fuck away from this woman. Nothing— absolutely nothing —good can come of this .

Her lips part, her eyes still fixed on the camera as she swirls her tongue around the digit, sliding the pad of her finger deeper into her mouth.

My balls begin to throb as she clamps her mouth down again before releasing her finger with what’s surely an audible pop , and I’m suddenly wishing that these damn cameras captured audio.

I’d do anything to hear the sounds she makes. Is she a moaner? Or does she save her sounds for herself, bottling them up for her own pleasure?

As elegantly as moving water, her hands float to her waist, hooking her fingers into the elastic of her pants, shedding them. She tosses the black fabric at the bars, as if someone were there to catch them, but there’s no one—only the camera. Only me.

Then, like a spring flower opening up after a long winter, she spreads her legs.

I’m surely looking at the devil, the serpent offering me the forbidden apple in the form of her ripe, juicy cunt on display.

Even in the dim, minimal light, her pussy glistens like a shiny diamond in the depths of a mine.

Glancing at the door, ensuring I’m still alone, I palm myself over the outside of my pants. I was hoping it’d alleviate some of the discomfort, but I only seem to be making it worse as my dick spasms. It doesn’t help that Lou slips in her middle finger, slowly beginning to fuck herself on the screen .

A groan climbs up my throat, but I trap it in my mouth before it can escape.

This woman is wrecking me.

Her finger disappears inside of her as her movements grow in tempo and depth with each passing moment, shifting from languid and teasing to wild, more frantic thrusts as she fucks herself in earnest. Her free hand seems to squeeze her neck gently before moving down between her legs, circling her clit.

And here I thought this place was Hell. Turns out, Louhi is the personification, and I seem to have booked a one-way ticket.

Hurtling toward release, frenzied and feverish, her back bows against the concrete. I’m in fucking agony by the time her feet arch, toes scrunching as she scrambles for purchase on the smooth, dirty floor of her cell. The sound of my own ragged breaths fills the barracks as her sexy lips part, her mouth dropping open.

Is she crying out? Making noise?

The moment that thought zips through my mind, Louhi’s mouth curls around a word, forming an obvious sound.

Not a sound.

A name.

My name.

Stunned, my hand squeezing the hard bulge at my crotch, I hit rewind, watching her cry out my name again. Then again. Exhausting the rewind button before she licks her fingers clean and shoots a wink at the camera.

After quickly erasing the performance she just put on, my heart pounding in my ears, I grab a clean uniform and storm out of the barracks. Resigning myself to a heinous make-up workout, I bypass the gym and head straight for a shower, where I can replay everything in my mind’s eye with my hand wrapped tightly around my cock.

“What have you got for me, Diggory?” Major Thompson asks as I stand before him in the small, pathetic office, my arms clasped behind my back with my mask bunched in my fist.

Louhi’s earlier cameo as a cam-girl still spins like a vinyl record in my brain. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what her game was with that. What I do know is that I want to see that cunt again. I want to hear her say my name. I want to take a bite of that apple she tempted me with.

With a confidence I don’t possess at the moment, I reply, “She’s going to break for me, sir.”

“But she hasn’t yet?”His eyes narrow, the lines around them crinkling like old wax paper.

“Not yet, sir.” I keep my face a stoic mask of impassivity, unperturbed on my face.

“How long until you can get some answers for me?”

“Do I still have another four months?” I skirt around his question delicately, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Lou, it’s that she’s unpredictable—as evidenced by the private show she put on for me earlier. But did she know it was me watching? Or did she think someone else would see her?

I’ve never seen her get off before while reviewing the footage, but what if I missed something?

No, no, that can’t be right. I’m confident I didn’t miss anything. This had to have been the first time she’s done that.

My thoughts are a mess as I try to sort out what I saw on the camera today, but I need to pull my shit together. Louhi’s hourglass is running out…and so is mine.

There’s no telling when I’ll get answers from her—could be tomorrow—but it’s looking more and more like never is more realistic.

“Yes, but the sooner the better. We need the intel. ”

“I’m on it, sir,” I assure him.

“You better be. It won’t be good for anyone if we don’t get what we need from her. Do you understand?”

Loud and clear.

“Yes, sir,” I reply succinctly. It’s abundantly clear by the way he says the word “anyone,” that I’m the one who will suffer the consequences should I fail.

It’s time to take things up a notch, Lou.