All Chapters of Cellblock Heat : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Jordan Could've given my little angel my usual paper cards, but I didn't. Fuck. I didn't even get to make one because of the same man who's got me worked up from the beginning of who-the-fuck-knows.I was quick to say my goodbyes. Gave Tariq a bro hug, telling him to make Amara whatever salad they'd been arguing about. Then I cradle my angel in my arms—the guards were against it, and the cuffs bit into my resist, but I had no spare fuck to give.Now that they are gone, the visiting hour has come to an end, I need to know exactly why that bitch was here, and why she sealed her visit with a kiss to his lips.It was a gory scene in my mind. One that I can knock the daylights out of the characters, and feel relieved afterwards. But that ain't possible with the cuffs I have on, and the number of armed guards loitering. The last thing I want right now is a bullet hole denting the tattoos, causing revolting scars.So here I am, making a compromising decision to wait till we were both in

Jordan There's one more thing I haven't tick on my Fuck-Quincy’s list. And that's to tongue fuck him.Just when he was melting into my touch—fucking himself with my hand wrapped around his shaft, I wanted to fold him up and perform the wildest rim job he can possibly think of. I can see he hasn't gotten that before, because I have several facts to prove all his sexual escapades have been a boring one before I came into his life. Or maybe he got off on eye-fucking all his father's staff. Hmm, that's gonna be really dumb shit.The guards are lining up, ready for the row call. But it doesn't stop me from talking dirty to Quincy. Because I know he likes it. Gets him hot and bothered…and leaking.I'm beside him, watching his ass muscle flex as he fetches his missing sock on his bed. “I’ve been thinking about being inside your ass nonstop, preppy.”He froze on the spot with the sock in his hand. “We just did that…lastnight,” he said over his shoulder.“Doesn't matter. I don’t wish to b

Edward The storm tonight isn't a kind one.It claws at the mansion’s windows, rattling the brass handles, and beats down on the vast lawns as though it had targeted this every night. From my study room, It was a bit difficult to make out the security lights flickering over the long drive. The rain came down so violently it blurred even the outline of the front gate, turning the surrounding outside into streaks of silver in the dark.When the intercom buzzed, I almost ignored it. But Myles’ voice came through, uncertain and tinny over the static.“Sir, there’s someone outside the gate. Says she’s here to see you.”I frowned, leaning back in my chair. “You mean, right now?”“Yes, sir. She’s—uh—insistent. Your men are holding her back until I confirm from you.”Through the downpour, I squinted at the grainy feed on the small security monitor beside my desk. A figure in a pale coat stood between two of my guards. Her hair was plastered against her face, her arms folded around herself as

StacyI came back from Laurent's mansion with my heart completely ruptured.I feel like I am a tool in the hands of my boyfriend's father.His sneaky way to get back to his son. I've got so many questions swelling up in my head like why his father had sent those things to come after me when I was trying to be there for his son, why Quincy's eyes twisted the moment he laid eyes on me, and when that frown deepened when I brought up his father's situation.For the past few months, I have been trying to patch every single thing up, but none came to a clear picture.Nothing fits.None of it makes sense.I’ve been trying to patch everything together for months—every lie, every broken promise, every strange silence—but all I’ve got are jagged pieces that don’t belong to the same picture.Something’s off. I know it.And the worst part is, I’m starting to think I’m the only one who cares enough to see it.For all it’s worth, Mr. Edward is a cryptic man. The kind of man who smiles while he’s p

Quincy The regular visiting spar, which I've only been present once, is supposed to happen in the designated area—the visiting room.Not in here—cuffs to my wrist—with Stacy.For fuck’s sake, I do not want to be here—in Bill's office. And most especially, with her.I'm a thumb and an index finger close to declining this visit, to tell the guards to come get me out of here.Stacy started with a low tone filled with a leak of contrition. Three months ago, I would have melted into it like wax will warmth.“Honey—”“It's Quincy,” I said sharply. This morning would have been perfect. Not perfect per se, it would have been on a usual loop—in terms of prison stuff. But nah. Something had to mess it up. Or someone, rather.Bill messed up by calling the guards to come take me out of the field on the bridal side, saying I've got someone waiting to see me.My stomach coiled with the thought of seeing my Dad. That invitation was inevitable, and because I had no choice, my heart thundered to