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Mad Love: A Dark Psychological Romance by Aiden Forbes, Gage Grayson (43)

Katy

I wake to the sound of my stomach growling for food.

Starving. I’m starving. Again.

I open my blurry eyes and look around the place and groan when I remember: I got arrested.

Fuck.

Not that this is new. This isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened. Luckily for me, I’m adept at getting out of…sticky situations.

I look around and realize I’m alone in here. Thank God for that. I don’t need some lesbian trying to hook up for the night or for however long I’ll be in here.

I do, however, see a young policeman lounging around. I decide to take a crack at him.

“Psst, hey, man,” I whisper and he looks at me. “What do you say you get me out of here, and I pay you a special favor?”

I have no intention of favoring him in any way, but he doesn’t need to know that. He looks me up and down, taking in my tight body, pert breasts, and beautiful eyes and hair.

I can tell he’s interested, but maybe this moron of a cop is more interested in keeping his job.

“You’re not getting out of there unless you make bail. I suggest you be quiet,” he says to me.

Rude. I just got intoxicated. It’s not like I’m a criminal or anything―at least not as far as he’s concerned. These cops don’t know about my secret hacking life.

No one does.

I guess he’s gonna play the hard way.

“Come on man, I’m not even drunk anymore. Can’t you tell?”

I start walking a straight line in my cell to prove it. Or try to, anyway. I stagger and sway.

Of course I’m still drunk. I just hope he can’t see that.

I tease him a little bit, but it’s starting to dawn on me that I need to get out of here, and quick. I’m not feeling so good. I have one of the worst hangovers in the history of humankind.

“Oh, yeah?” he says. “You’re walking that line really well.”

He’s being sarcastic, and I can tell that he knows I’m not sober yet.

“Can’t you just cut me a break? My stomach is growling something fierce. I need food, and I need to rest,” I say, taking a final shot at him.

“No can do,” he says.

Unfortunately for him, I’m gonna have to escape under his watch. He’ll probably get fired for being a lazy guard when he could’ve just let me out early and avoided all the conflict. He obviously doesn’t know who he’s messing with.

I always get what I want. It’s part of who I am. I’m stealthy, and I’m good at virtually everything I do―cracking codes, lying my way out

And getting away with it.

I take a seat on the cold, steel bench and think about my options. Jail is not one of them. I don’t intend on staying here for long.

I don’t have any friends, and I don’t have any family. The only people I commune with are my hacking community, and that’s online. I don’t have a computer to contact any of them.

But like I said, I’ve been in this situation before, and I’ve gotten out just fine. I’ve even hacked into the system and wiped my record clean. No one knows a damn thing about me being in jail before. It’s part of my finely-honed skills.

My head is dizzy, and my body aches. Drinking too much will fucking do that to you. I just wish I was at my favorite diner and not locked up in this hell hole.

Before I have long to commiserate and to determine my next course of action, the policeman approaches the bars.

“Listen, girl, someone is looking for you.”

I freeze. I can’t think of anyone with a good reason to visit me in jail, or anyone that would care that I’m here. That means it must be bad.

Well, whoever he is, he’s here. There’s no escape, not right now.

He walks up to the bars of my cell, and when I look up to meet his eyes, I realize he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

Who the hell is this guy?

He’s standing on the other side of the bars, and I’m already intrigued. Not that he has to know. I have a thing for sexy guys like this one. Not that he has to know that, either.

“Hi,” he says in a sulky, silken voice. Fuck me. “My name is Marcus Layman, and I’m your ticket to freedom.”

For a moment, I’m in a daze just looking into his handsome face. And then I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hi,” I say carefully. “And how might I help you?”

He stares at me with stern eyes, and I imagine he’s wondering how I can be so arrogant when I’m the one behind bars. Guy doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.

“I’m personnel sent by a non-government organization. I want to help you because I think that what you do as an activist is the same as what we stand for.”

“Is that so?” I say, taking in the fact that he just said activist.

So this guy has seen my page. It’s a front, of course. Technically, I am an activist of sorts since I steal from the rich and give to the poor, but I doubt that’s the kind of thing his NGO is into.

Nope, he and his little org probably fell for the environmentalist thing. They all do.

“Go on,” I say.

“We’re willing to bail you out once I make sure that you’re…trustworthy. We need more people like you out on the streets, fighting for what’s right.”

He’s got some balls, this one. No one talks to me like that. He wants to make sure I’m trustworthy? I need to make sure he’s trustworthy.

I grab the bars with my hands and lean in close so that I can talk to him without that lazy policeman listening.

Marcus leans in as well. He’s so close that I can smell the musk of his cologne. Know what makes me wetter than handsome hunks?

Handsome hunks who smell fucking good.

“So…you guys want to help me?”

“We think you could be really valuable to us,” he says, his gray eyes revealing nothing of the truth.

I don’t know who this guy really is, why he’s here, and why he’s taken an interest in me. Who does he really work for? Is he telling the truth?

These are questions I’m not sure I’m willing to stick around to get to the bottom of. You see, I have my own life to lead.

“Is that right?” I say. “Well, I am valuable. So I’m glad you see that about me.”

I decide it’s time to have a little fun with this one. He’s too hot not to.

This guy Marcus is probably used to having his way all the time. He’s probably used to having women fall at his feet left and right. It comes with the territory of being so handsome.

But I’m just not like that. I plan on showing him a little lesson on how things really stand.

“But the thing is…” I say breathily, “I’m just not interested.”

I start to squeeze and caress my breasts in front of him. “I don’t want to be associated with your organization, Marcus. But I might be interested in…something else.”

What I say and what I’m doing seems to light a fire within him. I see his gray eyes start to dance.

He watches me squeeze my tits over the starchy jail uniform. I pull the shirt up to reveal my taut stomach, and I pull his hand through the bars so he can feel my smooth skin.

He’s staring at me with smoky eyes. His breath is ragged.

I can tell he wants me.

And I want him, too.

I pull my pants down from the side to reveal my thong, and Marcus’s eyes go even darker.

I slide my hand inside my pants and start to stroke myself, all while keeping a steady gaze on him.

I imagine it’s him down there, eating me out. I imagine it’s him in here with me and he fucks me against the steel bench.

I imagine his cock is fucking huge, and I imagine I take it all down my throat. I imagine a lot of things about Marcus. That’s how goddamn gorgeous he is.

Rarely does any man catch my attention like this. I wouldn’t say I’m jaded, but I’m definitely guarded. I don’t let anybody into my life.

He’s leaning in so close between the bars that I could kiss him if I wanted to. I pull my lips up close to his, but we don’t quite touch. I moan gently enough so that the guard doesn’t hear as I twirl my fingers around my clit.

It feels so good and being this close to Marcus makes it happen all too quickly: I come so hard that I’m shaking, juice dripping down my thighs.

I glance behind Marcus and notice that the policeman has left. Grinning, I take my shaking fingers out of my pants and rub my essence all over my lips. “Now let me wrap these around your cock.”

I feel through the bars that he’s hard for me. And yes, his cock matches the stature. It’s fucking huge, just as I suspected.

He grunts in lieu of an answer.

Can’t admit how much he wants me, huh? I think, smirking inwardly.

In any case, I’ve got him right where I want him. It’s a scene like no other, and I can tell I Marcus really has the hots for me.

He shuts his eyes as he pulls out his cock so that I can suck it.

Poor Marcus, that the policeman on duty was so brilliantly lazy, he left a guest in the presence of a prisoner alone. I mean, who does that?

And more importantly, who leaves bobby pins in a prisoner’s hair?

Picking the lock with no one noticing was easy enough.

Stealing Marcus’ wallet while he was distracted? Not so much.

But maybe by the time I’ve slipped past the guards, he’ll have realized his pockets are empty. Quite unlike the way I’m leaving his balls.