Then again, what trial?

I had no correspondence on when my case would be heard. If it was anything like last time, I’d end up serving more time waiting for the trial than I did after being convicted. The fact that the time served was subtracted from my sentence wasn’t a relief. It was hollow—especially if you’d served six months and the offense only deserved a three-month term.

This entire process was screwed the fuck up.

Innocent until proven guilty my ass.

“Fine.” I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Let’s go then.”

Following the officer through the usual riff-raff of prisoners, I kept my eyes forward, not lingering on anyone in particular. My prison-issued sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as the guard swiped his I.D and ushered me through to the small processing room then through another security point to the visitation areas.

I swayed to the left, following the hallway I knew led to the meeting hall where I’d last seen Elle and Larry.

“Not that way.” The guard rubbed his nose, his dark hair dull and needing a haircut. “This one.” He pointed at the right hallway.

I probably shouldn’t but I asked, “Private?”

He nodded.

My heart did a strange skip cough. Private meant Larry had come to talk—away from prying ears. Private meant Elle wouldn’t be with him because only client-attorney relationships were deemed sacred enough to have privacy.

Conjugal visits in this place were like fucking gold nuggets—rare and hard to earn. There was no way to hug your lover or even touch to reassure both of you that this fucked-up place couldn’t tear you apart forever.

Goddammit, I hate it here.

Swallowing back my frustrated anger, I followed silently.

Passing a few meeting rooms with matching metal doors, bars on viewing windows, and large locks, we stopped outside private room number six. The officer rapped on the door with his knuckles, giving me a quick glance.

I linked my fingers together in front of me. Remaining the perfect prisoner when all I wanted to do was handcuff the fresh-out-of-the-academy idiot and teach him what it was like to have your freedom stolen.

Larry opened the door, beaming. “Ah, great. Thanks for bringing my client.”

The officer nodded. “Welcome. You have thirty minutes. Press the button if you require assistance before that. For your safety, we’ll record visual but not audio.”

Larry nodded, ever the professional. “Great. See you in thirty.” Pulling my arm, he tugged me into the room and closed the door in the guard’s face.

We couldn’t lock it from the inside, but the illusion of having a door between them and us...fuck, it was the best goddamn thing in weeks.

“Hey.” Larry slapped me on the back. “How you holding up?”

I shrugged. “Can’t complain.”

I could fucking complain, but Larry was already doing so much for me. I wouldn’t turn him into my agony aunt, too.

“I’m glad.” Pointing behind me, he added, “By the way, I brought you a gift.”

“Better be a burger and fries.” I smirked, turning on the spot.

Something light and sexy and so fucking addicting leaped into my arms. “Penn.”

Instantly, my embrace wrapped around her, squeezing so tight I had to remind myself not to kill the girl I wanted more than anything.

I forgot about Larry.

I forgot about cameras and guards and court dates.

My body took over.

I did the only thing I could.

Her face tipped up.

Mine tipped down.

I groaned long and low as our lips connected, and she deepened the kiss the moment we met. I switched from expecting a friendly but purely platonic meeting with my benefactor to slamming Elle against the wall and kissing her until I couldn’t goddamn breathe.

My hands no longer obeyed my brain; they tracked over her, my thumbs rubbing the beads of her nipples, barely hidden beneath whatever clothes she wore.

I was so drunk on her, I couldn’t look away to see if she wore a convenient skirt to hoist up and delete the remaining space between us.

Larry cleared his throat.

It didn’t register or stop me in the slightest.

But it did stop Elle.

She withdrew from the kiss, pushing my chest a little to give her some space.

I blinked, coming back to earth with a smash.

Fuck, what was I thinking? Touching wasn’t permitted. I didn’t want to layer yet more crimes to my long tally.

I’ll never fucking get out of here.

And that was suddenly so important now I’d had a tiny taste of what I was missing.

Holding up my hands, I backed away from Elle, looking at the ceiling where a camera had recorded every passionate indiscretion.

“Shit.” My cock throbbed, heavy and noticeable in my prison scrubs.

Elle rubbed her mouth. Her lips puffy and red from my overgrown stubble. Had it really been over a month since I’d kissed her? Fucked her in my limo? It felt like decades.

She smiled. “That was quite the hello.”

I smirked. “You started it. You launched at me, not the other way around.” And Christ that made me happy. To know she’d moved past the issues I’d caused, the lies I’d told. That she was willing to accept me as me, not as Penn or that phantom she called Nameless. Me. With no more bullshit between us.

I opened my arms, encompassing the room and jail behind. “You’re here.”

“I am.” Her gaze skated to Larry then back to me. Her fingers pulled the hem of her black blazer; smoothing it over the hip-hugging skirt that kissed her knees.