All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Quincy His lips curve into a slightly wicked grin. “Well, what do you think?” he asks, exhaling lazy rings of smoke before passing the blunt to me. Every movement he makes is slow, deliberate—infuriatingly confident—and somehow, it makes him twice as attractive.Attractive?Since when does my mind ever agree to that?“Since you can’t resist his charm, even when he’s teasing and taunting you,” says the chunky little red devil perched on my shoulder—one that, inconveniently, has Jordan’s face. “And now that you’re floating in this haze, all those sober thoughts are crawling out to play.”“I think you should've left it back in the cell.” I lied. Heat fanned my face as I recalled how that silky substance felt against my skin. His fingers coated with lube. Circling one coated finger around my rim before pushing into it. One after the other. Making me feel every heart of want. Making me gasp and rock back to his fingers when he had them up my butthole, but didn't hit that spot that made

QuincyJust as I housed a chunky little red devil wearing Jordan’s smirk — the one that perches on my shoulder to whisper wicked, filthy thoughts in my ear — there was also another presence inside me. A smaller, almost fragile angel, bearing my own face, with a goddamn halo that glowed too brightly.That angel is the one in dominance right now, I'm been told by it to back away. To flee from all things lust. But all its pleas fell on dead ears.I'm helpless on my knees, as I stared at Jordan's mouth watering cock while he fisted it. My body's warm with needs, burning needs—if I'm being precise. Fucking hell.I want to lick that precum off his cock, trace peppery kisses around that purple head and veiny shaft. I want to feel his girth in my mouth, I want it nudging the back of my throat—not just on my lips Oh my goodness. Where are all these thoughts pouring out of?‘Where else? How about your nasty foggy mind.’ It's the chunky red devil speaking. It has shoved the mild angel to the c

EdwardI pushed open the window shutters, letting the stale air escape and the morning light flood in. Dust motes danced through the sunbeams — lazy, gentle things that hadn’t known motion in too long. “Let’s wake you up, son,” I murmured under my breath. My voice cracked at the end.Behind me, I heard Myles clear his throat from the hallway. “Sir, if you’ll allow me, I can call the cleaners. They’ll have this place shining in no time.”“No.” I didn’t turn around. My grip tightened on the vacuum handle. “Not today.”He hesitated. “But Mr. Laurent—”“I said no, Myles.” I looked at him then, and whatever argument he had withered beneath my gaze. He nodded once and stepped back, hands folded behind him.It had been months since I last set foot in this room. The first time I came here after Quincy’s arrest, I’d only managed to stand in the doorway. I couldn’t cross that threshold. His jacket was still hanging by the closet. His sneakers—scuffed and half unlaced—sat at the foot of the bed

Quincy I will be incriminating myself by visiting the infirmary with a hangover. So I rely on a cold show and a book meditation sesh to calm the storm in my head. Listening to Jordan talk about Amara like she was a little goddess also helped. It's good to see this affectionate side of him.Just like a burnt marshmallow, his fierce eyes inked-up skin stands to be the burnt exterior. And that gooey part is this rare affection he has for Amara. I hope to hell the little girl sees this gooey side too.Jordan had shadowed before me. That's why right now, he's fully clothed, ready for his big day, while I'm still listening to his happy talk as I dressed up.He did the happy talks, just as his eyes ate every inch of my skin.“Amara’s gonna scream when she sees me,” he had said, practically glowing. “She missed her big man so very much. Maybe I should get her a Pinata as a souvenir to remember me.”I forged a scowl. “Dip shit, don't force that little girl into the part of violence.”“I'm n

QuincyI am fucking melting.I’m about to lose every ounce of composure I have left, probably stand up from this metal chair and walk straight back to my cell without a word.I really want to,but I won’t.No one, absolutely no one, has to see how deep the cut goes. How much it still fucking hurts to know my father wanted nothing to do with me for five months. And now suddenly seeks closure.Closure.Like I’m a door he forgot to lock.Like I wasn't his blood, his only child. He’d carved me into being that golden son every father would wish for. But the moment I got caught up in the hands of the law, he turned his back at me.And Stacy? The one person I thought would stay? She vanished too.I built my sanity out of their absence. I stapled myself together with denial and anger and whatever sick distraction Jordan and I ended up creating just to feel something else.Jordan was there when I was a disaster, when I was shaking from withdrawal, when I wasn’t strong enough to stand. He didn’t