Prologue - Zack

It had all started out as a joke.

The base commanders were still stalling on setting up proper bank accounts for the guys, still struggling to keep morale up when the soldiers were flat broke, still trying to pass off those piece of shit ready meals as all part of the master plan.

We had been fired on twice already, and sustained losses from carelessness alone. The casual killing and destruction had already gone sour inside me, the images curdling into a strange cartoon in my mind, replaying again and again in lurid, mocking detail, and I had already gone numb, so numb that when she raised an eyebrow at me and suggested we do it, it was all just a joketuio

at first.

A dare.

I knew what people said about her. I knew what soldiers like her did on down time to keep those last shreds of morale going. But you have to understand – with that much darkness every single day, even the most twisted things can start to look like light. Like relief.

Even though it was all highly illegal, she said, “I can show you a place in town where we can get some real goddamn food,” and when she said it, she got this hollow look in her eyes and her lower lip opened just a little. Just the tiniest bit.

Fuck, I didn’t need to be asked twice. So we snuck off base that night into that piece of shit town and giggled like kids playing hooky. She handed a few crumpled notes to a withered looking street food vendor, and he looked at our uniforms as though it cost him every last stitch of willpower not to spit in the little parcel of chicken and fries he handed over to us.

We mock-saluted, she muttered the little Arabic she knew and we ran off giggling.

In the alley it was dark enough that I couldn’t make out much of her face except the shine in her eyes as she blinked. But I could tell the exact moment it all stopped being a joke.

She cleared her throat, then crumpled the oily wrapper and tossed it aside. When I kissed her, her lips tasted like fear and loneliness and chicken grease.

A BBC guy had come a month ago to do a documentary on the secret sex lives of Iraqi soldiers, but his piece of shit project never took off. He had probably fucked her too. Probably right here.

“Wow, you must have been hungry,” she said, voice silky in the darkness.

“It’s been a while,” I said and pulled her in close. She laughed a little. They’re all still women, under the fatigues, blunt manners and rough talk. And under mine, I was still a man.

“I can see that,” she said and ground her hips against my cock.

I buried my fist in the hair at the nape of her neck and yanked her head up towards me, kissing her hard. I was protein deprived, horny as hell, and feeling a little… nihilistic. Home was a universe away. Honor an abstract concept. Death was closer to me now, always skulking on the edges.

I undid her belt buckle and roughly pulled her trousers down, revealing two hot, tight thighs underneath and a neatly trimmed triangle of fur.

“You don’t have to be gentle, Zack… I’m a big girl, I can take it. Just go for it.” Still standing, she spread her legs a little and kissed me again.

Somewhere at the edge of my consciousness, a dark, heavy haze began to descend on me. It filled me up like a dust storm fills ups the sky and blurs the horizon. The haze blanked out my mind. Tightened my fists. Throbbed into my cock.

I grasped her waist and spun her around, flinging her against the rough brick wall so her pert ass was facing me. She arched her back as I groped urgent handfuls of her ass, her thighs, her hips, kissing savagely along her back, then unzipping myself.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” I breathed, and pulled out an angry cock. All at once I rammed into her little slit, and she bit down hard on her own hand to muffle her cry.

The haze thickened over me. I slammed my eyes shut and saw only death. Torn bodies. Twisted faces. Dribbles of blood in sand. I groaned and opened my eyes again, hoping the nightmare outside was better than the one inside.

Her body writhed and curled around mine like a snake. I whimpered and let go, the haze blurring over her now, erasing the soft features of her face, her shape. In the haze, she became a piece of meat. And so did I. And if our bodies were just going to be blasted to chunks in this godforsaken place then we might as well fuck for all we’re worth while we could, right?

“Zack! Hey… easy tiger.”

Even though she was a tough woman who had made a career of pretending never to be scared, I heard the flit of fear in her voice all the same.

My hips were now unleashed, something wild and unnatural uncoiling inside me, curling pump after pump of rage into her, so hard that her own hips were knocking into the wall in front of us, her belt buckle clinking and scratching against the rough brickwork.

“Zack, you’re hurting me,” she mumbled.

I could scarcely hear her. My world was sinking underneath a pall of black smoke. It sunk like fog into my tired, fearful body. Seeped into my hands as they held her down, pinning her there for the brutality I poured into her, stroke after stroke after stroke. I didn’t stop. I could smell her fear. Her dark excitement. And I kept going.

She thrust her hips back against mine and groaned in the same pleasure-pain that had taken me over. I felt her greedy little body pucker and convulse around me as she tried to steady herself. Even in a woman like this, an animal like me could find deep pockets of depravity. I fucked her harder, lifting her up onto her toes. Just raw meat. Just bodies. Fucking. The haze curled round us both, and closed over like an envelope.

When I came to, we were still in that grimy alleyway. She was hastily buckling herself back up again and re-braiding her hair, a strange look on her pretty face. I tried to give her the shameful roll of notes I had prepared in my pocket, but she waved them away and frowned.

“Save it for therapy, buddy,” she said, tucking her shirt back in. “You need it.”

Chapter 1 - Madeleine

It had all started out as a joke.

I never really meant for it to actually go anywhere, but what can I say… I have a habit of getting myself into trouble and not having the balls to get myself out again.

“So what do you think?” I said. “It’s not just me, right? He is cute, isn’t he?”

My long-time friend and occasional co-conspirator gave me an amused look and then examined the photo on my laptop screen one more time.

“Well?” I pushed. “For a prisoner, I mean. He looks sweet, right?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know, Maddy. He looks a little… prisoner-ish.” She scrolled down to read the rest of the bio.

“You think so?”

“Well, he’s wearing a jail uniform and everything.”

“It’s not a jail,” I said, and grabbed the laptop from her again, “it’s a correctional facility.”

She crunched her eyebrows at me and took a sip of her tea.

I loved Annie because she was everything I wasn’t: tough, perfectly put-together and the kind of woman that grown men fawn over because she ‘gives as good as she gets’. She called a spade a spade and even though I’d done my best to convince her that this was an ‘inmate social network’, she could see right through it for what it was.

A dating site for prisoners.

“Anyway,” I said, “stop being so judgy, it’s mostly just a joke anyway. I was just curious.” I pulled up the modest photo album belonging to inmate 487 290, Zack J. Hunter.

Annie took another sip of her tea as she had a good look at the handful of photos he had uploaded. Most of them were on the small side, and it was hard to see him clearly. My fingers stopped swiping when we landed on a bigger, clearer picture.

Zack J. Hunter, standing outdoors somewhere in a bright, overexposed afternoon, his khaki prison uniform unbuttoned and rolled down to his hips to reveal a seriously built chest and abs that looked chiseled from bronze.

“Ah… now I see what’s going on here,” she laughed, and zoomed in on the photo. “That man is just a little more than ‘cute’, Maddy.”

He had wild coils of wheat colored hair that were frozen mid-flutter around his smiling face, and though he was shielding his eyes from the sun, they still peered out from the laptop screen at us, sparkling with a kind of mischief that almost made me feel that he magically knew Annie and I were ogling him just at that moment.

“I know, right? What was his crime, being too hot?”

It was a joke I had already decided to make, well before Annie came over for her weekly tea and to visit Jasper. But I was glad to see that I was right. The guy was gorgeous, and it wasn’t just me making poor life decisions again.

“Well, what is he actually in prison for?” she asked.

Jasper’s pink triangle nose was always the first part of him that you saw, and when I saw it poking out from under the table, I was grateful for the distraction and reached down to pick him up.

“Hey, little one, do you want to see the hot guy as well? What do you think?” I held him up in front of the screen, his little kitten legs dangling limply. Jasper was unamused and wriggled out of my hands, then saw his chance to explore the table top and hobbled over it, poking his nose here and there.

“Well?” she insisted.

“Well what?”

“Is he like… a murderer or something?”

I sighed and flopped back in my seat.

It was, admittedly, the single question that had been gnawing at me ever since I had sent that first ‘just curious’ email. He had responded immediately, and the opportunity to ask him never seemed to arrive.

What exactly had he done?

I had scanned the same set of pictures over and over again, looking for clues. Were those the veined forearms of a burglar? Or the well-formed mouth and chin of a drug dealer? When I looked at his broad hands, his square jaw, his strong thick neck, my irresistible thought was to wonder: which precise part of him was responsible for breaking the law? His hands? His eyes? Something else…? He certainly didn’t look like the tax-evasion type.

In any case, it wasn’t a thought that I followed too far. I didn’t like where it went. Besides, none of this was very serious. I was newly single, he was stuck in jail, and I needed the company. Well, human company, that is. It was a Sunday morning and my animal-tally was currently sitting at eighteen dogs, five cats (including pink-nosed, black-furred Jasper) thirteen birds, a pair of chickens, a rabbit, a fancy rat and an aging ferret who had terminal stomach cancer.

“I’m sure it’s none of my business anyway,” I said.

“What? You’re not curious? What if he’s a rapist or something?”

I slammed the laptop closed.

“There’s no way he’s a rapist, for god’s sake.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, he just, he would never do that…”

Annie gave me a long, hard look. I guess it did sound lame, especially coming from someone with my track record.

“Maddy, how long have you been emailing this guy anyway?” she asked slowly.

I shrugged and nervously tried to find a way to sip my tea when it was quite obviously finished.

“Maybe a few months? I don’t know, not that long…”

“A few months? OK whoa.”

“Oh god, you’re being judgy again, Annie.”

“I’m not. I’m just curious, what happens now? When does he get out?”

Annie had a way of asking, all at once, the very same irritating questions I had taken at least six months patiently avoiding asking myself.

“I have no idea.”

“I don’t get it. Would you meet him if he was released?”

“I don’t know, Annie. Jeez, so many questions. Anyway, maybe I like the idea that he’s stuck in there and that’s the end of it.”

She nodded and smiled knowingly.

It was true. When you thought about it, a prisoner was almost the ideal boyfriend. He’d never hit you up for money, and couldn’t really cheat. Plus, you’d never need a restraining order, so there was that.

“When I said you should start dating again with a new guy, maybe I should have been more specific,” she laughed.

We sat in silence for a while, wondering if the day needed another cup of tea, or whether it was time to call our visit complete.

“I did mean to ask you about something, though,” I said changing the topic. “Jasper’s food is nearly done.”

Just because I was a vet, and just because I had a home full of abandoned animals that would rival Noah’s ark, didn’t mean I had the cash to pay for every little abandoned kitten that blew my way.

Annie was an old, old friend, and was going through a long-winded divorce. She would be moving out of her temporary flat in a little while, she promised me, and she’d take Jasper back, eventually. But I was beginning to feel taken advantage of.

“Oh shit, is it really? Are you sure? He eats so little. Anyway, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in the new place next week for sure and then I’ll just take him off your hands, so there’s no point getting new food till then, right?”

I gave her a thin smile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that his food had actually been finished for a week already and that I was feeding him out of pocket from the other cats’ food. I certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had already promised me she would take him back two weeks ago, and that he wasn’t even meant to be staying with me in the first place. But what was I going to do, let Jasper go to a high-kill shelter just because Annie and her husband couldn’t sort their lives out and rehome him?

“Hey, do you want some more tea?” she asked.

I shook my head.

No matter how many hurt animals you save, you’d better believe that there are millions more waiting to take its place. Later, as I saw her out, she hugged me and kissed me and laughed, saying, “try not to take in any more strays while I’m gone, OK Maddy?” and I felt a hot little flush of irritation.

I smiled and waved her off. One day I would quit being such a pushover and put my foot down.

Not today, though.

In any case, maybe I didn’t care if he was a murderer.

Chapter 2 - Zack

Zack: You should tell her the truth!

I stared at the words on the computer screen for a while, realizing how I could have easily written them for myself.

Maddy: I know I should :( I’m such a softie though. I guess because Jasper’s such a sweet little guy I could never say no to him, you know?

Zack: But that doesn’t mean you can’t say no to HER.

I like instant messaging because it really isn’t instant at all. It gave me just that little bit of extra time to think. To write a response, carefully. Hell, if I had that little time lag in real life, with just an extra spilt second for me to think before I spoke… well, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t be here in a steel reinforced computer lab, supervised by four guards and using my day’s internet time to chat to a woman I met on Soulinmates.com.

I liked the way the logo on their page had two little brackets around the ‘in’ part of inmate, so that only the “mate” was left. That’s why I was here anyway, right? Some parts of humanity need to be sectioned off from the rest, just so everything else can make sense. And that part was me.

Maddy: I think I have a hard time with that. I don’t know how to be kind but at the same time not let people take advantage of me.

It was another sentence that could have easily been written by me.

Zack: I just err on the side of not being too kind ;)

I hit enter and stared hard at the winking face. I had avoided it till now. I couldn’t flirt to save my life, but whatever, I was all the way in here, and she was all the way out there. Nothing would come of it, so why not? In a way, she was the perfect girlfriend already. She didn’t expect anniversary gifts, she had no choice but to give me my space, and if she got mad at me, well, I was already in jail, right? How much more wrong could I get?

Maddy: I don’t believe it for a second :) I bet you’re just one of those big sweethearts on the inside. The fact that you like animals proves it.

Zack: Speaking of which, how is the old brood?

Maddy: They’re good. The chickens are molting in the heat these days but they’re happy. I think Gingko is on her last legs though.

The cursor blinked idly at me from the screen. It had been months and months of this. Easy, pleasant conversation.

Madeleine Bright had become a sweet spot in my bitter, incarcerated days. Every morning we’d meet at 7am sharp for a chat, and sometimes, she’d leave me an email that I could read in case one of the cats or dogs needed her and she wasn’t able to make it for 7am. And the clunky old machines in Blantyre House Correctional Facility’s only ‘computer lab’ became a strange confession booth for me, and from out that void her and I somehow forged a gentle friendship.

She never judged me. Never asked me awkward questions. She was just touchingly, delicately female… a respite each day from the dirty concrete floors, the clank of steel bar gates slamming shut, and from all the young men smoking furiously because if they didn’t, their hands would soon find their way into fists instead. She was my rest from the drudgery of each day that looked exactly like the one before it.

She told me about her animals and her work. At first, she had assumed I was a vet as well. I had laughed and told her ‘not that kind of vet!’ and she had felt so embarrassed. It was pretty cute, our running joke. She never even asked where I had been stationed, or anything else. I was glad. I certainly didn’t need to talk about any of that again. In fact, I would rather have listened forever to how she had to trick the cats into taking their medicine by hiding it inside cheese, or how people called her a crazy cat lady when she was only 28, or about nothing at all.

We did other stuff, though.

Once a week, she’d send me a picture. The first had been of her, posing at a friend’s wedding, done up and smiling in heels inside a flowered arch. The one after that I liked better. She looked good au natural, with her wavy brown hair loose and snaking over her breasts. It made me think of fairy tales, her hair. She had a big, easy smile; a spray of freckles and a kind of goofy uneasiness about her that made you want to just hold her.

The first time she sent me a sexy one, she asked, “is this OK?” I had stared long and hard at that picture, and the cursor had blinked for ages, like it was blinking now.

It was a grainy selfie, and in it she was kneeling on her bed and peering nervously up at her phone. She was in a pink lacy number, but angling herself to conceal as much of her ample body as possible.

She definitely wasn’t a slender woman. She was all circles and arcs, and the freckles on her collarbones faded out down towards very large, pillowy breasts. Her hair looked kind of girlish and wild. She was so white on her belly and thighs she was nearly translucent.

All my exes had been thin. Tall and big, but thin. She was the opposite… small and fluffy.

“It’s more than OK,” I had answered, and soon she sent me more, one picture a week, each one going a little further than the one before it.

Admittedly, I had screwed every one of my exes within days of meeting them. I was a third date or bail kind of guy, back then. Younger, stupider me might not have seen the point of all of all this chatting and emailing and back and forth. I was never going to fuck the woman, so why bother, right? And yet I did bother. Somehow, she never stopped seeming interesting. Every week, the prospect of a single, static image of Madeleine Bright posing in her bathroom mirror, or modelling a new bra or whatever… every week was a thrill for me.

Another message came through.

Maddy: Aren’t you wondering what this week’s picture is?

I smiled. I watched as a little icon appeared and the painfully slow Internet connection got to work pulling it from out of the ether.

I opened it.

She was completely naked.

I threw a glance over my shoulder and then leaned in closer, trying to hide the screen with my thankfully large body.

I didn’t know where to put my eyes. Her hair was loose and wet, and she was standing in front of her shower. Even with a background of tacky cartoon ducks on the shower curtain, she looked like a queen. She was playing at being sassy, but the most endearing thing about the picture was how fragile she really looked. How shy.

Despite her coy posture, her breasts were full and low. Dark nipples. The curve of her flanks dipped dramatically at her tight little waist and swelled out again into two substantial hips. The hair at the ‘V’ above her thighs was sparse, but of the same carefree, light brown as on her head. She was beautiful. Beaded with water, buffed pink, a little coy, and completely, utterly beautiful.

I was instantly hard.

Fuck.

Maddy: Well? Haven’t had a heart attack have you? Please excuse the wee bit of extra holiday padding :D

I really hated that. Why couldn’t she see how gorgeous she was? She was almost 30, why was she acting like an insecure teenager, fussing about her weight like that?

Zack: …

Zack: You know I have to go out in public now? Standing up right now is going to be …a little awkward.

Maddy: Oh…? :p

Zack: You know, it sounds like you’re almost proud of yourself.

Maddy: I am a little! I like the idea of you getting all hot and bothered on my account.

Zack: You’re evil!

Maddy: Don’t say that :) I could always send you a picture of Ginkgo next time if you prefer.

Zack: Now hang on just a second… Gingko is a good-looking ferret. Nobody could ever say otherwise. But I much prefer your beautiful body.

I watched the cursor blink. It had been a long, long time since I had flirted with anyone. A long time since I …well, let’s just say that the last time I had to try and hide a raging erection was sometime in grade school. And wondering whether any of this was turning her on was making the situation even worse.

Maddy: It’s almost 8. You’ll have to go soon.

Zack: Yeah. Damn. Same time tomorrow?

Maddy: Of course.

Zack: I loved the picture. Thank you.

As I hit enter, her avatar blinked red and she went offline. The computer was just a computer again. And I was back in jail. I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

What the hell was I doing?

Relax, idiot. She knows you’re not getting out any time soon, so you can’t possibly be leading her on, you’re fine, you’re not doing anything wrong here…

The guards unlocked for me and I made my way out into the hall, shuffled quickly to the bathrooms, slammed a stall door shut and leaned against the wall to catch my breath.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to piece together the picture again. The yellow cartoon ducks on the shower curtain. The wet tendrils of hair curling over her naked shoulders. The way the water had beaded into droplets on the swell of her thighs, like she was a peach in morning dew...

With one furious movement I yanked down my trousers, my rock hard cock bouncing free. I threw back my head and squeezed a rough hand over the shaft, stroking out the delicious sensations I had tried to hide just a moment before. My trousers slipped halfway down my legs and goosebumps shot through me. I teased myself to the brink, pinning down her plump, freshly showered image in my mind, breath coming in jags.

I stroked.

I pictured her soft little body bent double, me sunk deep between those pretty legs, burrowing all the way into her sweet body. I pictured that long, Maid Marion hair pulled tight in one fist while my other fist gripped hard round her neat little waist.

I stroked faster.

I pictured her shy, puffy little lips struggling to close around me, and her dainty eyebrows quivering as she slid her mouth all the way to the base of my cock. I pictured other things, too. Dark things…

“Eh, fuckhead! Clear out man, I gotta go.”

I clenched down and shuddered silently, my balls tightening under me.

“Occupied!” I hissed.

“Zack? Is that you? Come on, your dick can wait, I’m desperate here.”

I slammed my other hand into a fist. Fucking Roger Blunt, my cellmate and closest friend in this dump, although ‘friend’ wasn’t the exact word I’d be tempted to use for him this very moment.

“Fuck off, dude! I’m busy,” I spat and inched myself closer to coming, her image rapidly dissolving.

“Hurry the fuck up! Anyway man, congrats on the hearing.” His voice echoed large all over the dingy tiled bathroom walls.

“What?” I mumbled, the edge of my orgasm retreating away from me. All that was left of her beautiful soft, wet body was the top of her creamy thigh. Real life was crackling in at the edges. I tried to hold on to the image. To her warm, welcoming smile. I was about to explode.

“Oh, you didn’t know? A bunch of us. It’s the day of judgment, man. Praise Jesus. This Wednesday.”

A hearing. I couldn’t believe my ears. Her pretty, bashful face came flooding back in full, taking over my whole awareness. Her smile was everywhere, and soon, into my shaking hands, I came one hard, thundering orgasm, my entire body tightening and sending sputters of white over my gripping hands. I growled under my breath. A hearing? It was almost too good to be true.

“Are you still fucking jerking it in there, man? Get out, I gotta take a dump.”

Chapter 3 - Madeleine

It’s not particularly profound but here’s my revelation: lots of interesting things in life start with shit.

Just hear me out.

I had been rudely woken up that morning by a situation I had faced many, many times before. You see, sometimes I’d agree to board a recovering cat or dog at my home for a few days because there simply wasn’t room for them at the clinic. Sometimes, the dog or cat in question would be ill, scared, or both… and I’d invariably wake up to some sort of disaster.

This morning, a bad-tempered maine coon mix had done a few panicked laps round and round my living room, all the while shitting herself and pulling out the stitches I had so laboriously put in the day before. The result was that I awoke to a house smeared with sickly brown stains over my sofa and carpets, and found her cowering behind some pot plants she had knocked over. The litter box, however, was pristine.

Everyone thinks they’re an ‘animal lover’, but as a vet, I’ve quickly learnt that very few people actually do love animals. Not really. And when I woke to the smell and the chaos that morning, I could barely convince myself that I even loved them.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the dial gliding past 7 o’clock. Damn. I’d have to miss my regular chat with Zack. The other animals were upset and I’d need time to disinfect her wound again and re-stitch it. I’d probably get into work late, too.

Still in my pajamas, I ran a bucket of piping hot soapy water, threw the sofa cushion covers into the wash and got to work with a spray bottle of stain remover. Still groggy and on my hands and knees, I tried to maintain composure.

Be compassionate, Madeleine, they’re just animals.

But the more I scrubbed, the angrier I got. Other women my age were out there having fun. Or they were married and thinking about baby showers or wedding color schemes. And here I was, wearing faded pajamas and cleaning up cat shit. And not for the first time, either.

I worked angrily, pulling the stiff brush bristles over the stains again and again, till the froth came up high. The animals in the house could sense my irritation, and had all skedaddled, except the maine coon who hid behind my destroyed pot plants and scowled at me.

Then my phone rang.

“Crap,” I hissed and flung the brush into the bucket, sending spuds flying. Drying one gloved hand on my pajama bottoms, I swiped at my phone and answered without seeing who it was.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side was immediately familiar.

“Maddy? Maddy, is that you? Maddy, I’ve been thinking so hard about things… can we talk, baby? I hope you’ll just hear me out…”

It was Alex.

My ex.

My difficult, emotionally unavailable, lying, manipulative, selfish-in-bed asshole of an ex.

Be compassionate, Maddy.

“Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just, man… I’ve had the craziest night. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through. I had this dream the other night about you, and it was crazy, do you mind if I tell you about it quickly? I know you think this is crazy, but will you hear me out for a second?”

This was Alex’s game. Alex’s difficult, emotionally unavailable, lying, manipulative, selfish-in-bed asshole game.

He only ever wanted what he didn’t have, so just about the only time he was kind and sweet to me was when we were completely broken up and he was trying to earn my forgiveness for being such a dick. And then I’d forgive him. And then he’d go right back to being a dick again. Then I’d break up with him. Then he’d realize how badly he wanted me.

The last few times he had called, he just wanted to tell me all about how much he’d grown, how much learning he’d done …and about how I owed it to him to give him another chance.

“Alex …I’m just a little busy at the moment, can I call you back some other time?”

“Well, yeah, sure, I guess …it’s just that this is important, don’t you think?”

“Sure, it’s important. I hope you’re well. But I can’t talk right this instant.” Out the corner of my eye I could make out the maine coon dashing away from her hiding place.

“Well, why not? What are you doing?”

God, I did not feel like this right now. My eyes turned to follow the maine coon and make sure she wasn’t getting into any more trouble, and I instantly caught sight of little Jasper clawing his way into the jumbo-sized bag of cat food. One of the dogs must have chewed a hole in it and now Jasper was dangling from that hole, little feet two inches off the ground, his head buried deep inside the bag, eating away at the food that was for all the cats that lived here and meant to last me till the end of the month.

I dashed over and tried to pry him loose, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder, accidentally smearing his black fur with soap bubbles from my other hand.

“Jasper! Get out of there!”

He twisted around, scratched my hands and dashed off, just in time for me to see the maine coon squatting down in the living room corner, preparing for another assault on my beleaguered carpet.

“Hey! No!” I yelled and raced over to shoo her away, but not before she released another jet of yellow-brown cat shit behind her. The putrid smell filled the air.

“Maddy? Maddy? Not being rude or anything but you could try to take this a little more seriously. Are you even listening to me right now?”

“Alex, I’ll call you back…” I started saying, glad that at least the maine coon had run outside. But just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Jimbo, one of the bigger dogs, came blundering through the house, curious about the fuss and accidentally tripping over the soapy water bucket, sending it spilling over the carpet. I nearly exploded.

Then something happened. My ultimate shit morning was now coming to a head.

I ripped off my wet glove and flung it to the ground, gathered my strength and yelled into the phone.

“Alex, stop calling me! I don’t care! We’re broken up and you should stop calling me. Goodbye!”

I could hear his protests as I hung up. Almost instantly my fingers dashed over the screen and I called Annie, and spoke into her voicemail.

“Annie, it’s Maddy. I’m sorry but I can no longer hold your cat for you. It’s been months and if you don’t take him today, I’m dropping him off at St. Clara’s. I’m sorry but I’m not running a charity here.”

I tossed my phone onto the couch. Heart still pumping I padded right through the wet carpet, in my socks, and went into the kitchen with Jimbo looking on dumbfounded.

I heard my phone ping.

Fuck them all.

Give people an inch and they’ll take it all, and shit on it, and wonder why you aren’t grateful for the privilege. Well, I was getting sick of it.

I stood for a moment in the kitchen.

I was a cat lady. And this was a cat lady’s house. Instead of interesting gourmet goodies and wine and pretty china, my kitchen was filled with dog and cat medicine and bags of food and disintegrating chew toys. Instead of waking up in a slinky negligee in the arms of a man who adored me, I woke to the stench of cat shit and a house full of sick and dying animals that took and took and never gave me anything in return.

So, I decided that just for today, I was done.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the kitchen again. I couldn’t have had more than $200 in my bank account at that moment, but I would have gladly paid that all to a cleaning company for the joy of not having to be in that house that morning. I stripped off my clothing and threw it onto the ground, then headed to the bathroom.

I quickly checked my phone.

A new message from Zack. I quickly opened it and read it so quickly it took me a few seconds to process.

Zack: I had my hearing today. I’m going to be out on July 6^th.

Heart still beating madly and full of fire at having told off not one but two toxic people in my life that morning already, I barely thought twice as I tapped out a message and sent it quickly.

Maddy: That’s great news! I can’t wait to meet you :) :)

Good. Assertive. No more doormatting for me.

Naked, I continued on to the bathroom and climbed into the shower, setting it as hot as my skin could manage.

Well, didn’t I want to meet him? I had kept him a secret from everyone – after all, what was more tawdry in the world than meeting a prisoner on a dating site? And I had already had enough of Annie’s ’concern’ about me and how I was probably incapable of choosing a man who wasn’t an abusive douche.

But out? He was getting out?

As the hot water pummeled down over my body, I felt stupid for not anticipating it. Of course he would get out eventually. And so what if I did want to meet him? Maybe I could be a little proactive in life for a change. Maybe I deserved a hot, sweet guy who flattered me and never failed to show up when he said he would. What’s the worst that could happen?

As the water melted over me and soothed my nerves a bit, the panic set in. I roughly shampooed my hair, my head filling with steam and worry. What if he was a murderer? What if he tried to murder me? What if he was already making a plan to head over to my house right now, while I was in the shower and…? I turned the taps off, squeezed my hair out and ran back into the living room, towel wrapped round my dripping body.

I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Hello, Annie? Oh god, I’m sorry for that previous message, I don’t know what got into me… I’m just under a lot of stress at the moment, you know? Don’t worry about Jasper, of course he can stay here as long as you need, I understand how hard it’s been for you.”

As I spoke into the phone I double and triple checked the locks on the doors, the warm shower water going cold on my bare legs.

Chapter 4 - Zack

“What woman could you have in your life beside your old ma, huh?” she cackled playfully, and did up my tie for me.

“Gah, ma, that’s too tight. Are you trying to kill me?”

“Ladies like a well-dressed man. It’s the least you could do.”

I looked at my ‘well-dressed’ reflection, wiggled the knot a little and tried to see exactly what was so much better about me now compared to how I was before. As far as I could see, shiny shoes and a nice collared shirt didn’t do squat to pretty up what was inside my head.

“There, look at that,” she said and looked on with satisfaction. “You always did clean up nice. You have your father’s good looks, that’s for sure.”

If there was one man in the world I didn’t want to resemble, it was him. But a man’s character is more than skin deep. And having just spent the better part of two years in a cage with nothing to my name but my own skin, I knew that better than anyone. We’re all just meat. Just great big bags of meat. When you’re on the inside, your face and your name and all that crap don’t matter one bit. It’s as pointless as a pretty knotted piece of fabric around your neck. No, the only thing that matters is who you are. And I was a man. At least, I was when I walked out of the giant steel gates two days ago. I had to ‘adjust’ now. Living with ma for a little bit, catching my breath, getting a job, wearing white, ironed shirts. These were all things I had to remember how to do. And meeting women. There was also that can of worms.

Ma’s house was oppressive. Too small. It felt like I was in danger of getting caught up in a doily or a lace curtain at every turn. My mom was old, and tired, and had the kind of nice-old-lady home that only widows ever have. She sure as hell didn’t need her six-and-a-half foot tall, thirty-two-year-old ex-con son trampling over her crystal ornaments and little vases of dried flowers.

Before, when I had come back from my first Iraq deployment, my oversized boots in her spare room were …endearing.

Now? Not so much.

Now, when the war had only been with my own stupid self, those big hulking boots were less acceptable. I knew that. But it was all going to work out fine. I’d leave soon, and in any case, her bones were becoming brittle and she needed a little extra help getting up and down the stairs. So we did out little thing, her and I.

“Be good, baby,” she said as she closed the door behind me and I stepped outside into the free world. A free man, choosing of his own free will to wear a too-tight tie.

My mind switched gear: the image of wet, curled hair on bare shoulders came blustering into my mind like it had been waiting patiently for a free moment. I had never expected her to be so eager to meet. In fact, I was banking on her disappearing after I shared the news with her. What sane woman would want me? On the other hand, had I ever been drawn to a woman that was sane?

She had been so cheerful about it. She had suggested this coffee place about twenty minutes from ma’s house, and I remembered having gone there a few times, way back in another life. I had beat off to this woman’s picture more times than I could count. And now I was wearing a pressed pair of trousers, a fresh white shirt and new shoes for her.

Life was funny.

I smiled as I descended the steps and half wondered if I’d cream my pants just meeting her in real life.

The bus trip went too quickly, and I found my palms prickling up with cold sweat as I got closer. It had been dumb, to flirt, to say what I had said. I could see that now. Usually I copped out with the strong silent routine and girls loved it all the same, but I had opened up to her because I guess I never imagined we’d actually meet. And so it was all safe.

She was safe.

From me.

I stepped off the bus and even from across the street, peering into the giant windows of The Magic Bean Café, I could recognize her instantly.

There she was.

I could have made out her glorious light brown hair in a whole line-up of mermaids. She was sitting in the corner, nervously watching the entrance. Like me, she was adjusting herself, trying on different facial expressions. Trying to look cool.

The bus pulled off again behind me and I stared for a moment, heart pumping. That was her, but without me in her life. Yet. Safe, perfect and happy. And in a moment, I was about to walk in there and change everything.

I took a deep breath, said a little prayer that she wouldn’t be put off by me, and stepped out to cross the road. The café inside was warm and noisy, but her cool blue eyes hooked onto me and held my gaze as I walked over and sat down in front of her.

She looked up at me, hands folded in her lap, and I could see it: she was petrified. And why wouldn’t she be? She probably thought I was a murderer. Most people in this nice little normal-people café probably thought the same thing. Why had I never told her?

“Zack,” I said and held out my hand.

“I know,” she said and hesitated to put out her own hand.

When I touched her fingers, I found them just as clammy as mine. She tucked them quickly back under the table again. I sat, hating how warm it felt all of a sudden.

“Do you want to get some coffee?” she asked.

I smiled, and for the next few moments we called the waitress, ordered drinks, and pretended like we hadn’t already seen one another naked.

“So, what’s the outside world like? Still like you remember it?” she finally asked, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

I had to remind myself that this was the same woman who had told me about her childhood, her dreams, her pets, her work challenges, her little health niggles, and the cupcakes she wanted to make on the weekend. A real, live woman. I only knew one, small, two-dimensional part of her. But fuck, it did feel like I knew that small part really well.

“It’s OK. Two years is actually not that long…” I lied. It was long. An eternity, without a woman.

Our coffees came and she wrapped nervous fingers round her cup. All at once, she launched into a little speech. The people at the table next to ours glanced over nervously, eyeing my tattoos.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve been so nervous and everything, but I have to be honest, before we carry on, I’ve been dying – I really mean just dying – to ask you a question,” she said, looking flustered.

In a way, I was glad she wanted to ask. I stuck my finger into the knot of the tie and wriggled it a little looser, and then I held up a hand and cut her short.

“Hey, I know this has all gone a little fast. You know, I didn’t expect to get out this soon either. But there’s no rush …for anything. And I think I know what question you want to ask me.”

I tried to hide my shaking hands by gripping the coffee mug and taking a sip.

“You do?”

I wiped the foam off my lips.

“Yup. You want to know if I’d like to go for a walk with you after we’re done with this lame coffee act, and enjoy the sunshine out there,” I said, and took another sip, not breaking eye contact for a second.

She giggled and looked at me sideways.

“Oh? Is that what I wanted to know?”

“Of course. You’re feeling a little shy though, because I’m just so goddam handsome, so you’re not sure how to ask me outright. But don’t worry, I got you,” I said, and playfully bumped the side of her arm with my fist.

She blushed and broke out into silly giggles.

Thank God.

Thank God she liked that.

Don’t ask me where it all came from, but maybe I still knew how to treat a woman, if I could just dust the rust off those parts of myself.

“Well, smartass, you got me, that’s exactly what I wanted to ask you.” And suddenly, all at once, like I had tripped and fallen face first into something gooey and delicious, her warm eyes caught mine and held my gaze. Held them and trapped them like honey traps a fly, like an immense star traps a little comet and holds it close in orbit.

And so we looked at each other.

And looked.

“I bet I can also imagine what question you have for me,” she purred, lowering her voice a little.

I leaned in closer.

Oh, I had questions all right. I wanted to know why she had ever joined that site in the first place. And what she did late at night, on her own, after work. And what she wanted. And yes, I wondered what her body wanted, too. I had guessed endlessly at how she might like to be touched, and what turned her on, and wondered whether she liked it rough, or whether she painted her toenails, or the precise sounds she made when she came. I wondered what I could ever do to give her an orgasm.

“Oh? Well go ahead then, I am feeling a bit shy to say,” I said, and played a little at being coy.

She smiled broadly at this and leaned in a little closer. I hated the table between us. I would have smashed it to a million pieces with my own bare hands if it meant I could get an inch closer to her.

“Well, you’re wondering… you’re wondering why I agreed to come out here, and meet you,” she said, suddenly a little serious. “You’re wondering if I’m crazy.”

I looked at her blankly. I had been wondering exactly that. The look in her eyes intensified a little and she went on.

“I think… that you’re as nervous as I am. And Zack, I do want to ask that other question, you know the one I mean.”

She hadn’t come across as this candid in any of our long text chats or emails. I was taken aback by her bluntness. Being rusty with women is one thing, but I was all of a sudden reminded that I was never any pro to start off with. This woman, with her long, unstyled hair and powder blue eyes, this woman who was half my size and twice as sweet, well, it definitely seemed like she could hold her own.

“Then ask me,” I said.

My hands were close to hers. So close I could touch them by accident. It felt delicious to pretend I hadn’t noticed. I wondered if she had. I wondered if I could nudge them even closer.

She sighed, tossed her hair to one side and looked off to the distance and then back at me.

“Zack, are you a bad man?”

It was as though there was an electrical force field crackling between her fingertips and mine.

“That’s not quite how I imagined you’d ask that question.”

She waited patiently for me to answer.

“Are you asking what I did? Why I went to jail in the first place?” I was beginning to regret not getting all this ugly stuff out of the way sooner.

“No, no, no, I don’t care about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d really prefer not to know.”

“But…”

“But I want you to just tell me, right now, if you’re a bad man.”

I took a deep breath.

“That’s… that’s a very complicated question. It’s not so simple to decide if someone is all good or all bad, you know?”

“Is that your answer?” she said quickly.

I wished I could tear this godforsaken tie off and never lay eyes on it again.

“No, not really. I mean…”

“It is a simple question. Nevermind anything you’ve done in the past, or what happened, or why you were in jail. Of course I’ve wondered about it. But I realized, right now when you sat down, that I don’t care. I just care if you’re a good man, right now.”

I was shocked by her sudden intensity. Outside, she was all soft circles and arcs. But her words were sharp and came quickly and with such force that I found my hands sweating again. Putting on a shirt and tie was one thing, but I hadn’t expected the third degree like this.

“So, are you?” she asked, then leaned back in her chair a little, as though my answer might take up extra space between us.

Was I a bad man? Fuck, I didn’t know. Aren’t all men bad?

“You have a way of asking really difficult questions, you know that?” I said at last, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled naughtily at me, and sweet lord if it didn’t melt me to my core.

“So that’s your final answer,” she said and playfully traced circles round the rim of her coffee cup.

I laughed out loud.

“You don’t let up, huh? Ok, you want an answer? You really want me to answer truthfully?”

“Yes, truthfully.”

“You sure? You might not like the answer…”

She was giggling and blushing again.

“Go on, tell me already.”

“I’m not a bad man…” I started, and gave her a dark, serious look. “But I am a man.”

The smile fell a little from her lips as she looked up at me, trying to decipher my expression. It would have taken no effort to lean forward and kiss her just then, and taste those silky little lips of hers. Had this woman done nothing but give me hard-ons in inappropriate places for the last six months?

She nodded sagely and smiled, then traced her finger around the cup again. The static between us was crackling once more.

“Good answer,” she said, “and now I can see that my coffee is almost finished…”

Chapter 5 - Madeleine

Jokes on him: I probably was crazy. On a whim I had suggested we meet, and on a whim I had put on the only dress I owned that wasn’t matted with cat and dog fur, and on a whim I had flirted hard with him. I had no idea what I was doing.

But if felt good.

And as the words left my mouth I realized I believed them. I actually didn’t care what he had done in the past. I was certainly no good girl myself. What I cared about was who he was now.

I had dated all the ‘good men’ anyway, and how had that worked out for me? It wasn’t that complicated. My life was passing me by, and if I wanted to have a fun fling with a hot bad boy from prison, so be it.

It was so much nicer and sunnier outside, and as we walked and found our way to the park, I couldn’t decide whether it was the caffeine that was making me buzz …or the way he kept passing little sideways glances at me.

His jaw was sharp and hard – the kind of jaw that always looks clenched tight – and his cheekbones were the same. It was only his eyes that were soft, and I suppose he thought I didn’t notice when he snuck a peek here and there at me. I tried not to think of all the pictures I had sent him. Of some of the stuff I had written, late at night when I was feeling lonely and reckless.

As we walked through the manicured gardens, we had our same old conversations as always, only this time, he was right there. Not locked away in a cold, steel box somewhere. Not just safe little pixels on a screen. But a real, flesh and blood man. And he was …bigger than I had expected.

Before, my images of him had only taken up little squares of space on my laptop screen, and his words had fit neatly onto a phone, or into short emails. When I closed my eyes and thought of him late at night, the thought was always small and manageable, too. But now, here, in the flesh… he was overwhelming.

I chatted and told him about the animals, about the clinic. And all while the sun shone, dark, delicious thoughts crouched on the edge of my mind. He was bigger than me. Much bigger. We could easily take a turn on this innocent path and find ourselves out of earshot for just long enough for him to …whatever.

My thoughts lazily flitted up to the verge of some possibilities but then came dashing back again. We joked about nothing, laughed at this and that. But I never lost track of the way his neck muscles were moving under his shirt. Right there, on the brink of my consciousness, there was another conversation going on. One between our bodies. My mind toyed endlessly with the idea of him as my ‘bad man’ …but I had understood his answer earlier on that day. He certainly was, without doubt, a man.

When he yanked off his tie and threw it carelessly over his shoulders, I thought I’d die of a heart attack.

It had been so long since I had been with anyone. Even before Alex and I had broken up, we had spent long, bitter nights in separate rooms, my body wincing at even the idea of brushing past him in the corridor on the way to the bathroom. But now the prospect of the tanned triangle of skin that appeared at Zack’s throat was enough to send my head spinning. God, I hoped he hadn’t caught my eyes darting over to ogle him.

We reached an obvious split in the road and looked at it, and then at one another. The air chilled a little as the sun passed behind a cloud, and a shadow flushed over the entire park.

“Are you going to murder me and put me in a ditch or something?” I blurted. Oh fuck. Where did that come from? What the hell happened to playing it cool and not caring about his past? I tried to laugh it off as a joke but he shot worried eyes at me.

“That’s really creepy, Maddy, why would you say something like that?” he said, a little hurt.

Of course he wasn’t going to murder me. Jesus. I wasn’t even sure if he was, you know, into me at all, so why was I flattering myself that a hunk like him would ever bother? I hadn’t been myself lately.

Idiot. I kicked up some gravel on the path. “I just …I’m sorry, I don’t know where my manners went, please try and forget I said that,” I stammered.

The path to the left was away from the city, leading into a quiet, shaded grove. The other path wound out into the sun and looked as if it meandered out of the park and back onto the sunny main road.

“Which way should we go now?” I asked, hoping my face would stop burning soon and that he’d have mercy and stop peeling off items of his clothing right here in broad daylight.

“Why don’t you decide?” he said and looked at me.

“Again, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Forget it. Which way are we going, huh?”

I looked the two options over. High, and low. The right way, the wrong way. I envisioned Annie’s concerned face and saw her wagging her finger at me.

Never go to a second location she had said. Send me a message the instant you’re done, and let me know if it goes past an hour.

Kissing this gorgeous beast would be heaven. But I wasn’t sure yet if it was worth the risk of landing dead in a ditch, no matter what he said. Sure, I was on a mission to be less of a ‘fraidy cat these days, but the darker path could wait…

“Let’s head this way,” I said, “I need to make my way back to town.”

He nodded happily and we set off to the right in silence.

“Just so you now,” he said, “I usually save my murdering and ditch activities for the third date anyway.”

I spun to look at him, but he winked and grinned mischievously back at me. I burst out laughing.

“I cannot believe you just said that!” I squealed and slapped his arm.

“What can I say? I’m old-fashioned that way. I just like to get to know my murder victims a little better, that’s all.”

The naughty sideways smile he flashed me sent electric volts down my spine and straight between my legs.

“You would murder me? After we’ve had such a nice coffee date together?” I said and pretended to pout. He smiled big and broad as the sunshine.

“Murder you? Well, easy there, we’ve only just met, I mean I haven’t even decided if I like you yet.”

The next thing I knew he had twirled me around and clasped me by the shoulders, and before I could say anything he planted firm, soft lips against mine. I froze and then went limp under his kiss. Somehow, all his raw magnetism seemed to condense to a single point somewhere on the tip of his sweet tongue, and as he leaned down and pulled me up into him, I whimpered and kissed back eagerly. His lips were slick and soft and warm.

He pulled back and I looked up at him, astonished.

“There, I just wanted to get that out of the way” he said, straightening tall. “Should we get going?”

He extended a hand and I took it, and then he guided me out of the park and back into town, where we hugged and parted ways without speaking much. Though the entire date had taken just less than an hour from start to finish, I spent all of that night tossing fevered in my bed, half resisting the dark, strange dreams quietly seeping into my mind, and half welcoming them in.

Chapter 6 - Zack

I can remember overhearing two of the prison guards talking one day, soon after I went in. They had been doing that kind of friendly griping that only people on lonely night shifts know how to do, and one had chuckled and said, “Man, we’re right here in prison with these fuckers. We’re all in one prison or another,” and I had smiled sourly and thought nothing more of it.

Until now.

The standard issue trousers and heavy-duty work shirt were at least comfortable; I’d give them that. They were dusty dark blue and made to look like an officer’s uniform, only not so flimsy or restrictive, and they felt warm against the chill night air. The 9mm Glock they had given me was in good nick but had probably never fired a shot, and it hung down heavy on my hips together with a pair of handcuffs and a flashlight, both bobbing a little as I walked all the way to that end of the corridor, and all the way back again.

It didn’t look much like it to me, but it’s what my counsellor had called ‘progress’. It was the graveyard shift at a draughty domestic terminal at the airport, but it was also, like I remembered that old prison guard saying, a prison.

Hands behind my back, I paced up and down restlessly like a jaguar at the zoo, and thought of her lips.

Against the cold tiles of that terminal hall, and the darkness outside and the relentless clink clink clink of my handcuffs hanging behind me, there was one damp, hidden spot inside my mind, and that spot was the memory of her warm lips.

I had kissed her, and for the last few days I had been feeding off that same kiss, pulling it out every few minutes, examining it, seeing that is was still hot and beating and alive, then putting it away again, shocked that I owned such a memory at all.

“Jesus, what part of no don’t you understand?”

I turned to find the source of a distressed female voice, and immediately saw an angry looking woman marching across the mostly empty terminal, an equally angry looking man shadowing her.

She had been crying.

In another life, I would have called her a ‘civilian’.

The guy caught up to her, yanked her by the arm and spun her to him, then hissed a warning under his breath at her while she scowled and tried to wriggle herself free.

I walked over sharply, and the guy released his grip at the sight of me.

“Everything all right here, ma’am?” I said.

She flashed angry eyes at the guy, then at me, then at the guy again.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, mortified. “There’s no problem officer, I’m sorry,”

That’s women for you. The really damaged ones are even humiliated by their own debasement. This dickhead didn’t seem to have much shame himself, and why would he, when she was doing double?

“Ma’am, if this gentleman is harassing you…”

The both of them exchanged a fiery, loaded glance at one another and then looked back at me.

“There’s no problem,” the guy said. Weedy looking fucker, too. I looked at her, but she only gave me a thin-lipped smile and they both hurried off, looking embarrassed.

As I paced over again to my area, I felt angry. Angry that he was angry. Angry that she wasn’t. She couldn’t know it, but I would have gladly torn that asshole limb from limb if she had just given the word. The Glock would stay virgin – for an asshole that treats women like that, only a swift, thorough beating would do. Men like him were animals, and what they deserved was a fist, not a bullet.

I watched them scuttle off.

Then I got sad.

That would probably be the most exciting thing to happen to me that night. I paced to the edge of the corridor and paced all the way back again. I wouldn’t go home for another two hours. Fuck, I hated this.

Instead of taking out my kiss memory and examining it again, I found myself thinking of my ex instead. When she had looked at me, had she really seen nothing but a pushy, weedy guy, the same as the one I had just politely warned?

I clenched my fists in my pocket and paced harder. She was in the past now, fuck her. I had done my time, my slate was clean and even if there were some smears of her left on my heart, I was done with all of that. In the eyes of the state, according to law, I was a free, redeemed man.

And later on, I’d go home and put myself away and to sleep in a little room with a quilted duvet cover and a Virgin Mary on the wall and move another day further from her. What more could she possibly want from me? One prison to another. Fuck them all. I’d serve out my second, longer sentence out here in the world, and I’d guard against remembering her whenever I could, but hell, I guess I didn’t have to like it.

Against my clenched fist, I felt the buzz and ping of my phone. A message from Maddy. I paused for a second before opening it. She didn’t message often, but those sweet little bubbles throughout the day were precious to me, and I wanted to savor them.

Maddy: We still on for tomorrow? Jasper says he’s packed and ready for his new home :)

The phone buzzed again in my hands and a picture appeared of a black kitten with a desperately cute, worried face, nose poking out from inside a little carry bag of cat toys and blankets.

I had only known Maddy – in the flesh, at least – for two weeks, and already she was filling my world with warm little bubbles. And with kittens. Must be nice, I guess, being a vet and swanning around without a care.

I wrote her back.

Zack: My mom will love him to death. Can’t wait to meet him!

I hit send and slid the phone back in my pocket.

Women can be prisons, too. I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing with her, to be honest. Did I really want to get involved? Get drawn into a big… relationship? I tried not to think about it. So I thought about other things.

In my imagination, my security guard uniform morphed into a kind of samurai’s outfit, and my firearm into a ruthless sword. The random people straggling in and out of the terminal were all innocent civilians, fearful and helpless in the face of a vast war that was unfolding around us all, and I stood, heart filled with vengeance and a howling lust for the blood for my enemies, for true justice, for the glorious chance to cut down an army of weedy, simpering men, one by one, with my sword.

The walls of the building crumbled and fell away, and all that remained was a platform, floating in outer space, only the stars there to witness a clash of unspeakable proportions. My real weapon would be my body, not clothed in regulation overalls but wild and free, and my sword would be my singular, divine instrument, slicing away at closed doors and locked rooms, forever…

My phone buzzed and shook me from my daydream.

Maddy: I hope Jasper’s not the only one you’re looking forward to seeing tomorrow… :D

I read the message, put my phone away again.

In my fantasy world, there were no coffee dates. No dating apps or ironed flat shirts or manners. In my fantasy world, I didn’t ask Madeleine which way she wanted to go at the fork in the road in the park. I just picked her up and carried her off with me into the shady grove of trees, far away from the city, and held her there, and gave her exactly what she needed.

Chapter 7 - Madeleine

I loved this feeling. Just on the threshold of sleep, on the verge of almost, almost waking up. As long as I squeezed my eyes shut and kept still and quiet, I could draw out that slow waking feeling, and sort of ooze and ease into the day. And there was something sexy about it too.

I’d been nothing but a cloud since he kissed me. All weightless and floating around and filled with sun, and the memory of his lips was best in the early mornings just before I woke up.

In my half dreamy-mind, I saw the tiny triangle of tanned flesh at his neck, and imagined slowly peeling it away, to reveal that broad, muscular chest underneath. When he had hugged me, I had felt it press firm against me but for now that part of him existed only in pictures.

Nestled in the blankets, only one or two morning rays poking through the drapes, I slid a curious hand down over my belly and slipped it between my legs. A new discovery: just the thought of him could make me wet. I slipped careful fingers over the nub of my clit and rubbed sleepily, stroking up those sensations he had first put there that day in the park when he tilted his head and slain me with that cheeky grin of his.

The animals were probably all still snoozing, and the house was mercifully quiet. I exhaled loudly and nuzzled my face deeper into the pillows. I never wanted to wake up, if it meant staying here in this dreamy haze with him a little longer.

“Can’t even wait to get started, huh?”

My heart stopped. I jumped so quickly out of bed I nearly flew, yanking the covers with me and screaming in panic at the alien voice that had appeared in my ear a second before.

Alex.

It was fucking Alex, curled into a ball on one side of my bed, smirking like the Cheshire cat.

I stood on the far side of the room, speechless. Like I was going to throw up. Or cry.

It had been almost 3 full months now since we had broken up. How long had been lying there like that? Had he…? Had he been watching me while I slept, while I… touched myself?

“What are you doing in here?” I said coldly. I felt the rage prickling at the back of my throat, bitter. He smiled and tucked the sheet round himself, looking very pleased with himself.

“Was I interrupting anything?” he asked with mocking eyes, and I realized with horror that he had been watching me. I felt violently ill, and pulled the covers tighter around me. He already knew I was naked under those covers, but I pulled them tightly round me anyway, so tight I’m sure my knuckles whitened with the effort.

“You… you have no right to be in here, Alex. Just get out. I have to work,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it.

I hated how shaky my voice sounded. I wanted nothing but for him to take his stupid face and his stupid grin and get out… so why did I sound so unsure when I said so?

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

I could feel my skin begin to sweat under the covers. If I dropped the blankets now, I could probably run and make it to the kitchen door and slam it closed. But then I’d be naked. And I’d still have to run past him. I tried to think if I could run to the bathroom instead, and shut myself in there. If it came to it. I gulped and tried to think. Alex had a way of making you picture the worst-case scenario.

“If you don’t get out I’m calling the police,” I said, my voice a little firmer now.

His grin stuck to his face. He looked me up and down.

“Can you just chill out? I thought I should just speak to you in person, you know?”

I laughed bitterly. “You have to leave now.”

“Have you found someone else, baby? I don’t get it.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Alex, don’t call me baby like that. We’re broken up. I’m sick of this,” I said, hearing the threat of tears as I spoke. With him, I never knew if I was more tired or more scared. Tired of being scared, maybe.

His expression hardened.

“So you have then? You have found someone else?” he sat up in the bed and my breath twisted inside me.

“Even if I have, it’s got nothing to do with you. We’re not together anymore.”

He peeled off the covers and climbed out of the bed, like a spider, and took a few steps towards me. He was fully dressed, right down to his scuffed Converse trainers. I hated him for that. For getting into my bed with shoes on. How the fuck had he gotten inside? Didn’t it mean anything to get locks changed anymore?

His upper lip curled a little as he looked me over again, this time with something nasty in his expression.

“Do you think that just because some losers show you a little attention, that you’re hot shit all of a sudden? How many people are you screwing anyway? Tell me. God, you always were in such denial.”

He came round the side of the bed, killing my hopes of dashing past him and out of the house. I felt my blood pumping cold through my veins, but I tried to stare him down. To keep my calm. Underneath the soft duvet, I was ready to fight him. Or die trying.

“Do you get that? Can you actually understand that most guys just want to use you?” he said, stepping closer still, so close I could smell the sourness on his breath. “Guys just use girls like you, Maddy, for fuck’s sake, think.” He curled his forefinger and tapped hard on my forehead.

I winced and pulled back.

He laughed.

“Don’t give yourself airs, baby. You’re a pushover and you don’t know what’s good for you. Tell me… tell me how many guys you’ve been dumb enough to fuck since we went on our break? Huh?” He turned his head to the side, making me think of some kind of deranged parrot.

“My sex life is none of your business, Alex. Get. Out,” I spat, the words taking every last shred of courage I had.

My therapist had coached me about conversations like this. I was wiser now. Stronger. And I now knew what to call these little episodes: abuse. I knew that I didn’t have to do this anymore. That Alex had problems, and that they weren’t my problems. But still, the words stuck in my throat and needed to be forced out.

His facial features tightened.

“You’re pathetic,” he hissed, and smiled as he watched me squirming. In an instant, he had yanked the covers away from me, tossing them aside. My nails burned where I had clawed at the fabric, and now I stood naked and cold, the warm Zack-flavored feelings between my legs completely evaporated.

He took a step back and looked me up and down.

God, I hated him.

My phone was on the opposite bedside table. I could make a dash for it and try to call someone, but who? And what would happen, once I tore off? Alex was an animal – and I didn’t want to activate his prey instinct. My body coiled up inside itself. He was not going to pour poison onto me again. Not again. Not today.

“Christ, have you gained weight or something?” he said, and shook his head.

I took a deep breath and tried to squirm away from his gaze, casually making a move toward the bedside table. He thrust out his arm and blocked my way. I would have rather died than let my bare body touch him. So I recoiled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I was done talking to you,” he said, with the same twisted mouth.

“Alex, I will not allow you to bully me like this. I’m going to call the police.”

The words felt like a miracle to say, but the sad truth is that they weren’t all that magical. He just kept staring at me all the same. His eyes just glided over me again and again. I squeezed my eyes shut as he extended a hand and stroked a long, horrible line down from my ribcage to my navel. I had nowhere to go. I was backed into a corner and couldn’t run. I wanted to cry. He saw my reaction to this and smirked.

“God, I’m just trying to be nice here, can you not be so rude? You always were so dramatic,” he chuckled, and repeated the same movement, this time drawing it out. The word ‘no’ stuck in my throat, choking me.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I mumbled, and instantly hated myself for saying it.

Did I have to be so fucking weak? The flash of anger on his face was too quick for me to process. All at once, his fist came flying through the air and landed hard against my cheek, knocking me dizzy. The room spun as I realized with horror: he’d hit me.

Hard.

His lips were curled again as he looked at me with disgust.

“I told you not to flatter yourself. I’m not going to lie, I definitely thought about it on the way over here. You know, for old time’s sake. But fuck me if you’ve turned into a goddam whale. You make everything difficult, you know that? I can’t even bring myself to try.”

He turned on his heel, kicked the blankets aside and went to stand on the other side of the room.

Slowly, a painful ache began to radiate through the bones of my cheek, but my fingertips shook so much when I lifted them to touch the skin that I couldn’t tell if I was bleeding or not. For a second, the room went quiet and all I could hear was the pump of my heart in my ears. It hurt like hell. How the hell had he gotten inside?

“Why did you have to go and mess everything up, Maddy? Everything was fucking perfect,” he said, and as he screamed that last word he upended my bedside table with a kick and sent it flying across the room, my phone with it. Benji started barking outside.

“Please just leave,” I said with a shaky voice.

His face was dripping with poison as he looked me over, shook his head and slowly backed out of the room.

Benji was still barking nervously as I heard Alex bluster out of the kitchen and slam the front door. With keen ears, I made out the sounds of him getting into his car, starting the ignition and taking off.

I stood frozen all the while, cradling my splitting cheek in one hand, naked, staring down at the discarded blankets that only a moment ago had been a safe cocoon for me, a place where if I closed my eyes and imagined it hard enough, Alex didn’t exist.

When I was sure he was gone, and when the dogs had stopped fussing outside, I crumpled down onto my knees and scrambled for the bed covers. Wrapping myself in them, I curled onto the floor and cried to myself. Inside my cocoon again, the sobs came jagged and painful, and my chest shuddered with each heave. He was right, of course. I had to face reality. My big stupid romance was with a shady guy who hadn’t even been out of prison for a month. Of course he was using me, what guy in his right mind would go for a woman like me?

And I had gained weight, it was true.

All of it was true.

I felt my tears flowing hot and seeping into the cotton of the covers. My fingers went to the folds between my legs again, in the darkness of my blanket cocoon, and I tried in vain to find that sweet, heavenly sensation again. To see if the memory of Zack could soothe me now.

Nothing.

My body was lifeless.

I drew my hands back again and clamped my legs closed, focusing instead of the ache in my face. The animals needed their breakfast. Gingko needed her medicine. And I’d probably need 15 minutes to cover up whatever mess he’d left on my face before heading into work, where creatures of all kinds would squawk and whimper for me for eight solid hours. I’d do all of that. I’d find a way. I’d install better security. I’d book an emergency appointment with my therapist. I’d swing by the police station before work.

But for the next few minutes, I just wanted to cry, by myself, inside my blankets.

Chapter 8 - Zack

I was surprised to see it. At first, I couldn’t make out what it was, but then it dawned on me: a bruise. The size of my palm and the color of a rain cloud right before it splits, right there on her pretty, milky white cheek. She had spackled layers of beige make up over it but frankly this almost made it worse.

“Your… your face,” I said, standing in the doorway like an idiot.

She smiled weakly.

“Oh, this? Yeah, that’s nothing, I just fell. The dogs, you know, they give me a hard time,” she said, and I wondered if she even wanted me to try and buy such a story.

Someone had hit her, clear as day. The idea hit me and made me sick on her behalf. I wanted to know who, and why, and where I could find the fucker. I wanted to go back and change my answer to her, the answer to the question she had first given me. I wanted to tell her, of course I’m not a bad man, if that’s what she was really asking. I would never, ever do that to her.

Instead, I said, “Oh yeah? I’m sure they give you a hard time!” and she smiled some more and invited me in.

Her home made me feel strange inside. She had a series of mismatched sofas covered in even more clashing throws and rugs. There seemed to be a cat curled into every corner and onto every upholstered surface. A deflated foil balloon hung limply on a stick inside a vase next to the TV. The balloon said “you’re a star!” in sparkly lettering. The place was run down, seemingly every little crack in the wall or scuffed skirting covered over with a jar of flowers or a Polaroid of her and some smiling girlfriends. How could anyone hit a woman who lived in a home like this?

“Please excuse the mess,” she said merrily, and went to fetch me a drink, calling out for Jasper as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I stood for a moment, taking it all in. Her house. The place she had sat here alone, chatting with me while I was locked up. A mangy looking white tom cat slinked his way against my legs and butted me with his head till I stroked him. I sat down, and sunk deeply into the sofa.

“I was meaning to ask if your mom had a litter box and stuff or if she needed one…” I heard her yelling from the kitchen. When she appeared in the doorway, it happened. It felt like a light bulb blowing. Like the popping of a firework in the dark. I looked up at her, cat wound round my legs, and she stood there looking back at me, mid-sentence and arms full of cat accessories, and she looked at me.

I swallowed hard, unable to tear my eyes away from her. Her mouth hung open a little. We were hypnotizing each other, both daring the other to look away. It scared me a little.

“It’s… it’s good to see you again,” she said, blushing and busying herself with cat stuff again. She was cute when she was embarrassed.

Men could never love women, and women could never love men, this much I knew. But maybe romance could bloom here, in this run-down single room apartment covered in cat hair, even if only for a heartbeat. And maybe even a fucked up ex-con and a woman with a bruised face could find a few moments of love here, even if those moments only lasted the few seconds we had as we caught each other’s eyes across the living room. Maybe it was over already. My great romance peaked and over already with this woman, starting and finishing in the doorway of her kitchen. What more could I offer, anyway? My bruises, if she knew how to see them, were far uglier to look at than hers.

She plonked some items down close to the door and then plonked herself down next to me, denting the ailing sofa in even deeper. We both smiled at this.

“You big brute, you’re too big for my house,” she said playfully, and in an instant she was in my arms again, and I wanted to weep with how fucking good it felt just to hold her lips in mine, just to taste that sweet tongue darting around my mouth.

I groaned as her hands went to clasp the back of my neck. I leaned into her, pinning her quivering little body against the sofa and melting into her eager, greedy little mouth. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Or tasted. Every last stray critter and broken piece of furniture and mark on her skin… all of it was amazing to me.

She pulled back and smiled at me with glowing eyes.

“Thank you so much for taking Jasper off my hands, you don’t know how much it means to me.”

She didn’t really need to thank me. My mom had wanted a pet for ages, and was getting lonely in the house in any case. And she had one kitten too many. It was a practical solution.

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” I said and playfully saluted, and she giggled. Just as I leaned in to kiss her again, I heard her screen door bang open behind me. Then a strange voice.

“Maddy? Maddy, are you home?”

Her muscles tightened so quickly in my hands I thought they’d snap. Her eyes went wide and wild and she froze. I was about to ask her if she was expecting someone when the voice came again, and her eyes shot to a point right behind me. I spun around to see a man standing in the living room. My mind raced.

“Baby…?” the man’s voice trailed off as we both took one another in.

I had been trained for this. For these high-cortisol moments where one strange moment seems to stretch out forever. I thought of the blue and yellow mark on her face. In that split second, I twisted my body round to position myself between him and her, throwing my weight into my thigh muscles so I could spring up quickly.

There was the entrance I had come through, behind him, likely one in the kitchen and if this was the kind of built-in-the-80s house I thought it was, there’d be a cheap frosted glass fitting in the bathroom that could be kicked clean out in an emergency. There was a glass ornament to her left that I could wield if necessary, but I had a better chance of taking him directly, since he wasn’t armed and a good few inches shorter than me. Low-ish muscle tone, no tats, civilian dress and no defensive posturing. I could have him pinned to the floor in less than six seconds.

“Who the fuck…?” he started saying, and I realized she was cowering a little behind me. It was him, no question. The guy that had hit her. I stood up and puffed my chest a little. I didn’t want to let her know it, but I would relish giving this guy an ass-kicking, if he asked for it. I slowly extended my hand, not taking my eyes off him.

“Zack Hunter. Nice to meet you. And you are?”

I knew all about guys like this. Wiry little shits with attitudes better suited to snappy handbag Pomeranians than grown men. I’d patrolled with some of them, too, and they were all talk and hot air until it came down to actually backing it all up with action. How had such a beautiful woman gotten involved with him?

He smirked at me and peered round my shoulder to glare at her.

“Baby? Are you kidding me? This guy?” he laughed and then lifted his eyebrow at me. “She tell you she already has a boyfriend, shithead?”

I felt Maddy’s little hands rise up and touch the small of my back. I can’t describe it, but that little touch alone, so soft and tentative … it broke my heart.

“Zack, he’s not my boyfriend,” she peeped from behind. “We already broke up. A long time ago.”

“I think you’d better leave,” I said, voice calm.

The air crackled a little as I felt him gathering his courage. Predictably, he lunged forward with flat hands and shoved my shoulders. I barely moved, and simply took a step towards him, clenched fists to my side. I peered at him through narrowed eyes and said slowly, with as much threat as I could squeeze into my voice.

“We can do this if you want, but it will not go well for you.”

It was faint and lightning quick, but I could have spotted it a mile away: that brief, panicked flutter across his face as he realized I meant it. But he was bluffing hard, and stood his ground. I didn’t need to look to tell that Maddy had already dashed off and was now pinned against the wall, watching us with horror. I hated to think of her being used to any of this crap. I might have been a no-good kind of guy with tattoos and a bad reputation, but in that moment, I wasn’t going to stand by and let that asshole get his way.

When he took a swipe at me, I dodged it and returned a jab right back at him, just a warning clip on the rim of his chin. He staggered back a little but with a righteous fury, he came pummeling back at me, stabbing left and right at me like a drunk kid in a club. I dipped to the right, twisted his arm behind him and pinned his back against the front of my chest, pulling him in to a hard half nelson with my other arm. It was almost too easy.

I briefly caught sight of Maddy, both hands clasped up to her mouth and her eyes wide, too scared to even yell at us to stop. The cats scattered.

“Did you fucking hit her?” I hissed into his ear, and I felt his body inhale as he gathered his strength, dropped his weight and tried to slip out of my hold. Gritting my teeth, I squeezed him hard, released him and shoved him away from me, sending him reeling and stumbling to catch his footing again.

Maddy was in the next room over now, fumbling with her phone.

“You want more?” I said, taking threatening steps towards him. “Or are you gonna fuck off already?” I would do it, too. I would kick the shit out of this guy if he didn’t stand down.

Before he had wiped the spittle from his smirking face, he took another sloppy lunge at me, sending a glancing blow against my left ear, making it ring out. Good. At least the little fucker had some fight in him. I smiled and went for him, plowing into his ribs with my fists, then raising a swift knee to his flank and digging it in deep, bringing him crumpled down into a heap on the floor. A bead of blood crawled out from the corner of his twisted mouth.

“You want more? Buddy, I could go all day,” I said and towered over him as he coughed a little, clutching at his guts. Taking a beating was second nature to me, but men like him? Arrogant little pricks like him? I always enjoyed watching that cockiness slip from them a little when they quickly realized how close they were to getting their asses handed to them.

He raised a hand and lifted a fuming face to glare up at me.

“Where the fuck did you find this guy, Maddy?” he spat, and staggered towards the door.

Maddy was far off in the corner of the adjoining room, her little eyebrows twisted up in fright, both hands clutching her phone.

“He’s a bad guy, Alex!” came her voice from the other room. “He’s just gotten out of jail. I mean it. You better not try anything!”

I tried not to smile at this.

“Well, you heard her,” I said and shrugged at him, a wry smile escaping my lips.

“I’ve called the police, Alex. You can’t come here ever again,” she said, and what was left of my heart broke even further. The asshole waved a dismissive hand and made for the door, kicking a small dog out the way and clutching at his middle.

“The next time you come back here again and bother Maddy, you won’t be walking out, you’ll be leaving in a body bag,” I said quietly.

I could still feel the blows ringing against my knuckles. I swallowed the wave of adrenaline down. I meant every single word. He eyed me cautiously for a moment and stumbled out, spitting a little blood and cursing under his breath.

When I was sure he was gone, I turned to see her face melt almost instantly into tears. I rushed over and held her head between my hands. She was sobbing so loudly I couldn’t make out what she was trying to say.

“Hey… hey, relax, it’s all over now. Shhh… it’s OK now.”

I was truly shocked by her reaction. I had so many questions. I hated the thought that she had suffered a problem that a swift ass-kicking could have solved in a minute and a half. Who the hell was this clown? How long had she been suffering like this? Had he hit her a lot?

One look at her face, though, and I knew that my questions could wait. She collapsed against my chest and cried hard for a moment, and I stood still with her in the silent room, my arms wrapped right the way around her.

And I felt something.

I don’t know what it was, but it felt good. It wasn’t the satisfying crack of my fist against his bones, or the submissive look he had given me as he slunk out. It wasn’t the fact that she didn’t have to deal with him by herself anymore. It wasn’t the sweet sense of calm washing over us both now.

But it was something.

It crept through me slowly at first and then all at once. With her pressed up hard against me, I felt my cock stiffen.

Chapter 9 - Madeleine

I don’t know when my life turned into a Maury show. Or some kind of TV drama with a muscled man beating away intruders and then kissing me passionately once he’d defended my honor. But it was happening nonetheless. And I kind of liked it. It was all happening so fast that I didn’t have time to stop and think.

I watched as he quickly went outside, then came back in again, locking the door behind him. The phone fell from my trembling hands and I threw myself into his arms, and he held me so tight that I could still feel the fight in him, still feel his strong heart banging inside his chest and against mine, and the heat in his hard arms, and how everything about him seemed coiled so amazingly tight, and something about it all made the tears come, and soon I was crying like a baby against his cheek.

There wasn’t a concealer or heavy-duty powder strong enough to cover up the nasty fact of Alex in my life. But Zack had seen that ugly face of my life and… he hadn’t run. He had stayed. Not only stayed, but stayed and helped me. The thought alone made it hard for me to stop crying.

Then he tilted his hips against mine, just a little. Just the smallest, politest gesture, but it was more than enough to feel his intention. He was rock hard against me. I gulped. Could that really be his…

“You’re such an animal,” I laughed. And wasn’t he? Beating off my other suitors so he could… well, you know.

He laughed with me, kissing the top of my head and stroking my hair, the full length of his tall body pressed against me.

“Luckily, you’re an animal lover…” he whispered darkly. The thrill his words sent through me was so electrifying I felt my clit thump instantly. Here I was, a crazy hysterical woman with too many cats and a bad ex and a bruised face. And now I was wet. Very wet. Almost without thinking, I squeezed my legs together and tilted my own hips to his. Just a little.

“I just can’t believe what just happened. I’ve never actually …it’s kind of shocking,” I blurted. “You’re such a badass, like you just… you really hit him so hard, and you …you defended me,” I said, my voice full of disbelief.

I couldn’t imagine it. A macho man beating my asshole ex out of the house would have felt like a dream come true if I had ever had the audacity to dream up such a thing.

He lifted my head to his and gave me a hard, serious look. His lips were so close.

“Maddy, I would do it again. I mean it. I don’t want you to ever have to deal with that shit again.”

I stood up on my tiptoes and sunk into his beautiful lips, and sighed, and felt my tears coming on again. I kissed him hard and deep, and he kissed back, cradling my head in his big hands.

“Shhh… it’s over now,” he said tenderly. He didn’t realize that it wasn’t Alex who was making me cry. It was him.

His tenderness disappeared and in one rough movement he raised his arms above his head and peeled off his shirt, dropping it behind him. When he lowered his arms again, the muscles of his immense chest settled and flexed a little, his caramel skin rich with tattoos. He pulled me in again for another kiss, and I felt him smiling against my lips.

“That shirt was just getting in the way,” he mumbled, and I moaned my agreement. Firm hands went to the base of my spine and nestled there, then guided me around and down onto the sofa again.

This was crazy. Dangerous. I had only met him once before, and he was a criminal, wasn’t he? Had I lost my mind? If he was the bad guy, then who had staggered out of my house a moment ago with a split lip?

My head was in pieces.

I obediently crumpled down onto the cushions, but held onto the kiss, unwilling to tear myself from his gorgeous lips.

A few weeks ago, this man was nothing but a fanciful dream for me, a picture on a screen, a man that belonged somewhere else… and now we were so close I could smell the excitement in his skin, and feel the heat of his body as he kissed me more deeply.

His hands pawed urgently over me, trying to find their way to my skin through my clothes. Closing both firm hands round my waist, he lowered his full, glorious weight down onto me, our hungry tongues still playing their delicious game, and I opened and exhaled loudly as his strong body pinned mine to the sofa beneath us. I wasn’t going anywhere. And so what if he was a ‘bad man’? So what if he was a brawling thug who had tattoos and a shady past? If it felt so delicious to have his strong hips pressing my legs open, did I even care?

He planted a knee on either side of me, then rose up and gazed down at me, stroking his hands over every part of me, slowly, as though his fingertips were tasting me.

He was twice the man Alex was.

Fuck, he was twice the person I was. Both of my hands could fit into one of his. Two of me could fit against his broad chest, and his tongue was twice mine and easily kissed circles around it. He was so tall that he had to curl his spine to lean down and kiss me again.

I hadn’t been with a man for a long time, but he was still double all my memories. Still more than enough man for me. Too big. Too tall. Too much.

When my fingers went to his belt buckle, he watched me with pleasure, then pushed aside my hands and unbuttoned, unzipped, and peeled them away to reveal a thick, long knot in navy blue boxer shorts. I traced tentative fingers over him, guessing at the size and shape of his cock like it was a Christmas present and I had to try figure out what was inside.

He was fucking gorgeous.

He towered above me, straddling me like I was the next in line to be conquered. I wondered what dangerous situations his body had triumphed over, and what else these thick arms had done in their time. I wondered what parts he would use to tame me.

I giggled at the prospect. I could scarcely believe that any of it was happening. He smiled down coyly at me, stood, then hurried to wriggle off the rest of his clothing, freeing a springy slab of cock from his boxers that was nearly thick as my arm and the same pink as my blushing face.

I couldn’t help but stare.

He kneeled down in front me and with gentle but determined hands, and set to work removing my clothes. I surrendered and watched myself become more and more naked under his expert fingers, his hard bobbing cock never far from my awareness. It thumped heavy against me once or twice as he rolled my jeans off and with them my now wet underwear.

I was spellbound.

His hard hands – still red on the knuckles from where they collided with Alex’s petulant face – were now so soft and careful over my skin. When I was completely naked, he contemplated my body again and smiled, and something ached in me. My arms crossed lightly over my soft belly. My usual shield.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I know I need to lose a little weight,” I said. I felt like I had just spoken to him in a foreign language.

“Lose weight?” He seemed confused.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I haven’t been to the gym in a while… anyway, I’m working on it,” I said, laughing anxiously. He gave me the same look, then leaned forward to kiss me, this time with more gentleness.

He pulled back and stroked a hand over my abdomen, then carefully pried my arms away. My arms obeyed. It was so easy to do whatever his body suggested. I found myself dropping my hands to my sides again, and flopped back, naked and undefended. He looked at me. At last, after more gentle caresses, he said simply, “I don’t care what your body looks like. I only care about what it does…”

His eyes caught mine and he flashed a devilish grin at me.

“Well, all I’m really good for is caring for sick animals,” I blurted.

“Not true. Your tongue, for instance, is very good at doing this…” He leaned in for another deep, juicy kiss, and I returned his enthusiasm. “And I’m sure you’re good at other things, too…” he said, and stroked the curve of my belly and hips again.

For some stupid reason, the tears came again, and soon two hot, stinging drops were rolling out the side of each eye and down into my hair. He leaned forward and kissed these too, and then put his lips against the ugly bruise on my face, whispering, “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

I squeezed out the last of the tears and kissed him again, so he would stop speaking, or maybe so that I wouldn’t have to. We fell into a long, fluid embrace and his body caressed mine easily. He was gentle and sweetly patient, pushing me only a little at a time, caressing the tension and fear out of my body. But there was no doubt: we were going to do things. We were going to fuck. The thought alone made me giddy. Though my body melted under his touch, my heart was galloping furiously inside me.

He was unlike Alex in every way.

He didn’t look at me awkwardly, waiting for me to entertain him like a girl in a porn clip. He didn’t kiss my pussy for 4 milliseconds and then watch my face to see if I was screaming in raptures. In fact, everything he did wove an experience in my mind that I hadn’t even thought possible before. We were on some delicious, deep, dirty journey with one another, and it seemed obvious that Zack, knowing the way, would show me. Every step. He knew where we were going, and there was no hesitation. And no turning back.

When he pressed the soft pad of his thumb against my clit and stoked me slowly, it was though he already knew it would send my head back and pull out moans from deep inside my throat. When he firmly parted my legs and pulled my hips down to better access me, he did it with perfect belief that it was what I wanted. Because it was. And when he took his thick cock in his hands and dabbed the head against the swollen-slick entrance of my body, he did it with the confidence of someone who already knew I’d be melting by that point and dribbling in eagerness all over him.

And so when he finally breathed the words “just relax for me” into my ears with damp breath, I did exactly that, feeling that he was the obvious expert. Using strength from somewhere inside his strong thighs and hips, he introduced the tip of his dick into me, while both his hands clasped my waist and anchored me down.

He was an animal. A wolf. Or a bear or a fox with nimble paws and quick eyes and a keen, mischievous nose. There was nothing for my body to do but follow his. I cried out a little as he pressed his girth into me, widening me up and touching me in a deep, dirty place that I had forgotten existed.

I could hear his breathing as he slowly slid in deeper. The fact that I was visibly giving him pleasure only ratcheted up my own. He pressed all the way in, this mysterious stranger, this man I knew and yet didn’t, this convict, this man who had done enough wrong to be thrown into jail and yet whose entire body seemed designed for my ecstasy, right in that moment.

“You like that,” he growled into my ear as he pulled back and stroked into me again. It was more of an order than a question. The width of his hips split my thighs apart and he drove himself all the way in again, with another strong, deep thrust. I could feel every inch of him. I could smell him.

My body jerked and shuddered as he pumped in again, and then again, finding some delicious, dirty rhythm inside, fucking me with one long, smooth, hard stroke after another, right where I needed him.

With legs wide, I opened to his athletic body, melting under a torrent of frantic kisses and caresses. From his hips up he was gentle and thorough, his careful tongue and delicate fingertips touching me so delicately it almost felt like reverence. But below his hips …his cock was a blunt, forceful weapon. He was soon pounding wave after wave of bliss into my grateful pussy, and it was a bliss so deep it sunk right through to my bones.

“You like that?” he asked again, his voice hot in my ear.

I moaned and bit down on his shoulder, anchoring against his barrel chest for the punishment I was receiving down below.

“You fucking love that don’t you?” he growled, fucking me harder still, and this time I couldn’t help but cry out.

“Oh, fuck yes… oh God…”

I wasn’t myself. This kind of thing couldn’t possibly have been happening to me. Here I was, with this hot, darkly tattooed, gorgeous thug of a man, and he was all over me and everywhere and inside me, fucking me so sweet and deep with a cock that made me want to kneel down and worship it.

His breathing abruptly changed. He pulled back and up a little, and his sweat-glistening torso heaved a little as he tried to calm his shuddering breath. Deep inside, I could feel him twitch and squirm, close to the edge himself. I watched in awe as he composed himself, closed his eyes and took a long, luxurious breath, something sexy twisting on his lips, half smile, half tormented grimace.

“You know, I never asked you the same question,” he said, breath coming in jagged rasps. I could feel my own body tightening and swelling around him, the swollen folds of my body still reverberating from the relentless treatment he had given me just moments before. In that full, delightful pause, I felt like I could hear both of our hearts beating wildly.

“What question?”

I looked down as a wave of goosebumps flickered over his tan skin, and his brown nipples gathered to a point on his defined chest. He was truly a site. Rippled with muscle, his long torso led down into a sparse, black bush at the base of his cock. And to my delight, every last inch of that cock was now buried far up inside me.

“You know, the question you first asked me. Are you a bad girl?”

I smiled and gyrated a little against him, desperate for that stuffed feeling again, for the weight of his body tensing on top of mine. I certainly felt like a bad girl right now.

I noticed his hands were clenched hard on the tops of my thighs. Rope-like tendons strained in his neck. Beads of sweat. He was pretty close to coming.

“Me? A bad girl?” I said and pouted playfully. I squeezed my internal muscles all along the length of him and felt him twitch in response.

“Hm, I just don’t know,” I said, realizing that with just the right movement I could easily topple him over the edge.

The look he gave me was adorable. Pleading. Astonished. Painfully, beautifully turned on. Holding his gaze firmly in mine, I began to swivel my hips around the sexy, solid length of him inside me. He whimpered a little.

“Oh fuck …stop or you’ll make me come,” he mumbled, and I could see him beginning to lose control. I smiled wickedly at him and swirled my hips again. His abs twitched and he shuddered hard in my arms, clenching his jaw down hard.

“Oh fuck…”

“I’m not a bad girl, Zack, I’m a very, very good girl.” I curled my hips into him again, drawing him in even more deeply, stroking him inside with my hot body, so close to losing control myself. I quickly placed both hands under my butt, pushed up off the sofa and threw my hips up against him, taking him in right to the hilt and clenching hard against his delicious cock.

I watched his eyebrows twitch as he gasped for air.

“Oh fuck…” came the throaty growl, and with a helpless shudder, he came hard and all at once, scooping up my body and ploughing viciously into me with everything he had.

He grunted through clenched teeth and pumped the last of his orgasm into me. I couldn’t hold on. My own orgasm hit me hard, and I tumbled slowly, a long, dizzying climax that felt like falling, like surrendering… I think I must have cried out, or bitten down on him, or clawed at his chest, or bucked and groaned like the animal that I apparently also was. I don’t know. I just know that in a moment he was crumpled into a hot mess on top of me, both of us panting, a warm buzz still fluttering between my legs.

I heard him chuckle to himself, slide out the wet heft of his cock and give my ass a playful slap.

“Yes, you certainly are a good girl,” he said, and even though he was standing there completely nude, dick red and bouncing between us, even though I was sprawled out on the sofa and laced with sticky white globs on both my thighs, and even though the room smelt of sex and we had fucked so hard I swear I smudged some of his tattoos off… I still blushed like a schoolgirl when he gave me a cheeky smile and lay down beside me.