Page 6 of Her Outlaw Prisoner (Vanishing With the Rebel #1)

Ronan

Eleanor is still curled against me, her breath warm on my chest, her delicate fingers resting lightly over my heart. I run my hand down her back, my fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against her skin.

I should feel satisfied. I just had her, all of her—but it only made things worse. Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.

I wish I had all the time in the world to savor this moment, but I know a guard could walk in any minute now. I wish I didn’t have to go back to that damn cell.

Her eyelashes flutter against my skin as she shifts slightly, pressing closer, like she’s seeking warmth. I tighten my hold around her waist. “You okay?” I murmur.

She nods, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over my chest. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of us speak. The silence should feel heavy, but it doesn’t. Then, before I can stop myself, I ask, “What happened to you, Eleanor?”

She stills, her body tensing slightly against mine. “What are you talking about?”

“I see the way you look over your shoulder,” I reply, keeping my tone gentle. “I see the terror in your eyes when you think no one is looking. I could look into it on my own, but I’d appreciate it if you talk to me about it.”

I feel her hesitation melt, in the way her body relaxes against mine. She exhales and pulls back, just enough to meet my gaze, enough for me to see the vulnerability in her gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Well, I lost my dad to a car crash when I was seven,” she says, then sighs softly.

“Mom grieved for a long time. I was left alone a lot. When I turned seventeen, she married Pete. He was a decent guy, but he had a son who was two years older than me. My stepbrother, Daryl—he was… possessive .” She pulls away gently and sits up, reaching for her scrubs as if she’s just now remembered she’s naked.

She continues the story as she pulls on her clothes, and I slide back into my shirt as well.

“He watched me all the time, and messed with my head. He made me think I was delusional. He’d mess with my stuff, my room…

” She shudders, lost in the memory. “I couldn’t concentrate in school because I felt like he was always watching me, always lurking in the shadows.

I couldn’t date. I lost my friends because they thought I was crazy. ”

My fingers curl into fists as she speaks, rage building inside me like a slow-burning fire. She shouldn’t have had to live like that. Constantly afraid. Constantly looking over her shoulder.

I pull her close to me again, needing to feel her against me, wrapping my arms around her.

She leans her head against my chest and says, “Mom shielded me the best she could, but then she passed away from cancer when I was nineteen, and the house became hell for me. I went to college, and I thought I’d escaped Daryl, but that was wishful thinking.

He was always watching, leaving reminders of himself in odd places at odd times. I always had to watch my back.”

That bastard…the way she talks about him, the ill-concealed terror in her eyes as she speaks about him…it makes my stomach turn. I force myself to keep my breathing even, to let her finish.

“I finally got my nursing degree,” she continues, her voice quieter now, as if she’s slipping back into those memories.

“I thought maybe I’d be free. But he showed up at my graduation.

Just standing in the crowd, watching. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try anything.

Just stood there. I knew then I could never really escape him. ”

She pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, I ran. Took the first job I could find, far away from him. I figured working in a prison would be the last place he’d expect me to be. And it’s worked. He hasn’t found me.”

Yet.

She doesn’t say the word, but it lingers in the air between us.

I pull back slightly and lift my hand, tilting her chin so she meets my eyes. “He’s never going to go near you again, Eleanor.”

She exhales shakily. “You don’t understand. He’s not normal, Ronan. He—he enjoys it. The mind games. The power trip. I know if he ever finds me, he won’t let me go again.”

My jaw clenches. “He won’t find you.”

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out. I can tell she wants to believe me. I’ll make sure she does. That motherfucker has no idea he just put himself on my radar. I don’t let threats linger.

I lower my head, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. She sighs into my mouth, wrapping her arms around my neck, her body softening against mine again. I wish I could stand here holding her like this forever. But the sharp clang of the prison buzzer shatters the moment.

I sigh, pulling away. “I have to go.”

She nods, moving to clean up the exam table and arrange the supplies as if this was a normal visit to the infirmary. I watch her move, that possessive hunger still thrumming beneath my skin.

She’s mine.

I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to walk out of here and pretend like I don’t feel this way. Before I leave, I catch her wrist, pulling her back into me for one last kiss. This one is softer, slower. A promise.

“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur against her lips.

She nods, her fingers tightening in my shirt for half a second before she lets me go.

I turn, just as the door bursts open. Rodriguez steps inside, his gaze flickering between us, suspicion and disappointment narrowing his beady little eyes. He probably wanted to catch us in a more intimate moment, the asshole.

“Time’s up, Callahan.”

I smirk, wiping a hand over my mouth like I’m erasing any evidence of what just happened. But the truth is, there’s no erasing this.

Not from my skin. Not from my bones.

Not from my fucking soul.

I follow him out, but I don’t look back. Because I know if I do, I won’t leave.

Back in my cell, I sit on my cot, staring at the ceiling. My ribs ache from where Chase punched me earlier, but I barely feel it.

All I can think about is her.

The way she looked at me.

The way she trusted me.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. I should be pushing her away. She’s too good for me. Too fucking pure.

And yet—

I want her.

More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my goddamn life.

My hands curl into fists as I think about her stepbrother. That fucking bastard. He thinks he owns her? Thinks he can keep her afraid, even from miles away?

No.

I won’t fucking allow it.

And I don’t care what I have to do—he will never touch her again.

It only takes me a few hours to make contact outside the wall and get a tail on Daryl.

And later that evening, I’m back in the medical wing.

With a “dizzy spell” this time. I had to pay the correctional officer a fortune—Johnson this time, and his silence doesn’t come cheap—for this to fly, but it’s not like I give a damn about the money.

I made enough money as a crypto investor before I got locked up. Money is the least of my problems.

As long as I get to see her again…

“You’re really pushing your luck, you know that?” Eleanor says, giving me a mock-stern look as she takes my wrist, pretending to check my pulse. “Twice in one day?”

I grin, completely unapologetic. “What can I say? I’m a man in need of constant medical attention.”

She rolls her eyes, a pretty smile lighting up her face. “I see…”

I study her as she works, my gaze trailing over her delicate features. Her lips are still slightly swollen from our last kiss.

I lean in. “And…I needed to ask you something. Would you ever consider running away?” I keep my voice light despite the anxiety coiling in my stomach. “With me, I mean.”

She stiffens slightly, her breath catching. “What?”

“You heard me.”

She exhales shakily, staring at me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious.

I am. I’ve toyed with the idea from the moment I made contact with her. I already have plans to leave this hell, and I can’t leave her behind, especially not after hearing about her bastard stepbrother.

“Baby, I know it’s sudden, and I don’t need you to answer me today. But I couldn’t let your shift end without letting you know where I stand. I wanna run away with you.”

She lets out a soft, nervous laugh. “And where exactly would we run?”

I slide a hand around her waist, pulling her flush against me. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere by the water.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t move away.

“I could make it happen,” I murmur, brushing my nose along her jaw, breathing her in. “All you have to do is say the word.”

Her hands curl against my chest, gripping my shirt like she’s afraid to let go.

“You keep looking at me like that, baby,” I rasp, my mouth hovering just above hers, “and I’m gonna have to kiss you again.”

She swallows hard. “Then kiss me.”

Fuck.

I don’t need to be told twice.

I crash my lips against hers, devouring her. She melts into me, her fingers tangling in my hair as she presses closer, her soft little moan vibrating against my mouth.

That sound.

I need more.

I push her back against the exam table, lifting her onto it, sliding my hands under her scrubs, dragging my palms up her bare thighs. Her legs fall open, and I step between them, swallowing every desperate little sound she makes as I deepen the kiss.

“Ronan—” She gasps when I palm her heat through her panties.

I growl against her mouth, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the fabric, feeling how warm and wet she already is for me.

“Jesus, baby,” I rasp, sucking at the sensitive skin on her neck. “You gonna let me have you again?”

She nods frantically, gripping my shoulders.

I grin against her skin. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

She whimpers, pressing her hips into my hand. “Yes.”

My cock throbs at the raw desperation in her voice. I slip my fingers beneath the fabric, groaning when I feel her—hot, slick, and so fucking ready for me.

“Fuck, Eleanor,” I growl, nipping at her jaw. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

She gasps as I slide a finger inside her, and then another, her body clenching around me, her nails digging into my back. She trembles beneath me, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps as I work my fingers deeper.

She’s so fucking tight. So wet. So damn perfect.

Her hands fist my shirt, pulling me closer, like she needs something to ground her. Like she’s afraid of falling apart.

“Relax, baby,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her ear. “Let me make you feel good.”

She exhales shakily, her legs widening as I curl my fingers just right, pressing against that sweet spot deep inside her. Her whole body jerks, her back arching off the table.

There it is.

“Oh, Ronan…” She gasps my name like a prayer, her voice thick with need, with surrender.

Fuck, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.

My thumb finds her clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make her legs shake. Her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in as she lets out a broken little moan.

“That’s it, baby,” I whisper, watching her come undone beneath me. “You feel that? You’re taking me so fucking well.”

She nods frantically, her breath coming in ragged pants, her hips rocking against my hand, chasing the pleasure.

She’s close. I can feel it in the way she tightens around my fingers, in the way her body trembles, coiling tighter and tighter like she’s about to snap.

“Let go for me, Eleanor,” I rasp, my lips dragging along her jaw. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

She whimpers, her fingers tangling in my hair, her body tensing desperately.

And then she shatters. A strangled cry leaves her lips as pleasure rips through her, her entire body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over her.

I keep my fingers inside her, working her through it, swallowing every desperate little sound she makes as she falls apart in my arms.

Fucking beautiful.

When her body finally goes limp, I press a kiss to her temple, murmuring against her skin, “You okay, baby?”

She nods weakly, her breath still uneven, her cheeks flushed. She looks completely wrecked. Completely mine.

I smirk, brushing my lips over hers. “We don’t have time for more today, baby.” I smirk toward the door. “Officer Johnson doesn’t like me as much. But next time, I promise it’ll be my cock making you come.”

She shivers, her fingers tightening in my hair, dragging me into another kiss. And fuck if I don’t want to take her right here, right now, correctional officers be damned.

But I’ll wait. I’ll be patient. Because I’m keeping her.

And when I finally take her again, it won’t be rushed.

It’ll be slow. Deep. Devastating.

It’ll be everything.