Todos los capítulos de Cellblock Heat : Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

Jordan I had him right where I wanted him. Where I’ve always wanted him since the first day I set my eyes on him. Quincy was sprawled on the cold concrete, his chest fighting for air—every shallow inhale tearing its way past his throat like it was laced with glass. My knee pressed into him hard, deliberate—just enough to keep him tasting that edge between breath and blackout. Not enough to break him. Breaking him too soon would be boring. If I had broken him too soon, how would I have met this new discovery? That part where I felt his cock throb. And the fucker would swear with his girlfriend's cunt that he's straight as a ruler. There was nothing but a thin line holding me from slamming my lips against his when he had his mouth hung slightly open. Whichever way I try to ruin him, he remains as hot as he’d be even if I hadn’t laid my hands on him. I made a promise to myself that I was gonna ruin him—I’m coming in like a wrecking ball to fuck up the walls he’d built high into the

JordanIt's been three days since Quincy and I spent some quality time in the warehouse, and it's been three days since he began ignoring me.For three fucking days, Preppy’s been doing that shit like laying flat on his bunk the second we step into the cell in a way to shut me out like I’m a goddamn draft he can roll away from with his blanket. During breakfast, lunch, or dinner, Preppy will shovel his tray down like he’s in a race, and the second I drag my tray over to join him, he's gone. Doesn’t even pretend. Just storms off like my shadow’s poison. This was the same damn person that seemed like his world lit up whenever I came to join him at his bloody table. I made it a routine to always eat with him when other inmates neglected him in his miserability.I could laugh if all the bullshit he pulled didn’t sting so fucking much.Because who does he think he’s fooling? He can’t ignore me. Not in this cage. Not with how many times I’ve caught his eyes burning holes in me when he thoug

Quincy The infirmary door clicked shit behind me, and a cool air brushed over my skin. Of course, it wasn't enough to soothe me. Nothing was, and will be after I've got fucked up. Back there, I could relate with Dr. Anaba what my primary issues were. But not my secondary issue.Hell no, I couldn't even speak to anyone about it. Not when I haven't yet figured out what exactly is wrong with me.I'm thinking this is too intense. Maybe I could make it seem like nothing, just the way the subject—Jordan—makes it look like nothing.Could I really do that?My chest feels so tight, as if someone had cinched a belt around my ribs so tight and it's interfering with my breathing. My breathing is uneven. My mind and body has been patched up, but inside—inside was still chaotic as it would ever be. It's so hard to forget my body's reaction to Jordan hands on me, the memory of his touch burns where it should never have. And it's slowly dominating the sting of Stacy's letter even though that one hu

Quincy How many swigs of his afterlife drink will it take before I completely pass away? It feels like I’m floating in the sky. Any moment now, I’ll be led by two angels to heaven’s gate—or maybe the other way, which I think I might fit into, because Jordan keeps pouring more gasoline on my heated skin. I’m so lightheaded, but still aware of my surroundings and everything he’s doing to me. The rest of the world sinks into the background. All I feel are Jordan’s hands on me for the third time this week, his breath brushing my face—my lips. Maybe it’s the tingly feeling of the clouds, if they actually were tingly… or maybe it’s something else. If I were sober, I’d have protested, resisted him pushing me into the same pit I’d been in two days ago. My heart hammers in my ribcage as I think of how vulnerable this moment will make me. All I can do is lean back with heavy lids, a light head, and take whatever sultry poison Jordan dishes out. The thief sees my vulnerability, and he goe

Jordan Getting back to the block after last night turned out unimaginably possible with Tommy's help. I mean that guy is literally my backbone in this yard that wears out the life of every inmate in it. The sun was almost out when we had finished our extra curricular activity. While Preppy was still recovering from the shock and highness of our deed, I slipped my hand into the pocket of my pants and took out three pills of naltrexone. I broke one into half. Threw one and a half down my throat. The remaining, I administered it to him. I did the clearing myself. First off, I disposed of the bottles—somewhere nice and safe, where no eyes could easily reach. Then I helped my wobbly cellie into his clothing, dusted off his body because the hot fucker sat still on the fall with his eyes and his mouth like a victim from a horror movie. I was as drunk as he was. Maybe even twice as drunk because I found his thick, warm cum so fucking intoxicating. I cleaned myself up as well. I l