Her swallow is slow, her words even slower. “If I ask you for a time and place, would you agree to only seeing me then?” she asks and what a waste of a question it is.

“No.” I answer her with honesty as I slip my fingers lower, drifting them to her slit and bringing her arousal to her swollen nub to rub gentle circles. Her back presses against my chest and her neck arches, bringing her chin closer to my lips when I admit, “I’ll see you whenever the fuck I want.”

I don’t stop the heavy petting, loving her ass pressed back against my sweatpants. Just the feel of her writhing against me forces an aching need to override my senses. Her body tightens and I still, not wanting to send her over the edge just yet. “Another question?” I dare to ask and I do something I haven’t in a long damn time. I pray. I pray she has one more so I can press my fingers deep inside her cunt and feel just how tight and hot she is.

“If I message you to come to me, can I see you whenever the fuck I want?”

I hope she can feel my smile against her heated skin as I whisper something I’ve heard her say a thousand times when she’s well aware the answer is no. “We’ll see.” I wish I could. I wish it were that easy.

With the rest of my answer unspoken, I thrust two fingers inside of her heat, curling them and stroking along the front wall of her pussy while my thumb still presses against her clit. I’m meticulous, drawing it out and memorizing every detail of how her body reacts to the pleasure. Her fingers dig into the covers while her plump lips part and as much as I want to take them with my own, rules are rules. One touch is all she gets.

“Marcus,” she says, mewling my name. That’s how she comes undone. With me inside of her and my name on her lips.

My last commands to her, which she willingly obeyed: Stay very still. Close your eyes now. And sleep.

Marcus

The bad men always lose.

The boy told me that. I truly believed him back then. I can even remember nodding my head in agreement.

They will lose. They always lose. I look back on it now and know it was the heroes that led us to believe that. Comic drawings depicting superpowers and cartoon shows that came on every morning on the weekends. Even if it was naïve, it’s still true. I’ll be damned to admit anything else.

The bad men will always lose.

His large eyes stared back at me from across the cell. He said it like it was a question; after all, I was older by almost a year than him and taller too.

“Yeah,” I told him, my voice scratchy from lack of water. “They always lose.” I think the entire time we were there together, I barely spoke. Those may have been the first words I uttered out loud besides my name. Because he needed to hear it, and deep down inside I needed to hear it too.