My mind was beginning to wander. It was filling with visions of red hair and emerald eyes—of a slim waist and wide hips—hips that could handle a large man like me. Daydreaming was forbidden in my world. I couldn’t afford to lose focus on daily life. Losing myself in a dream world about a pretty nurse and her perky tits was a sure way to get myself killed.
At night, once it was lights out, I’d pump my cock hard and imagine how sweet she’d sound as she came all over me. I’d blow my load to the imaginary sounds of her in pleasure, and then I’d wake up the next morning hating myself for it. I couldn’t keep this shit up, yet I couldn’t help myself. She needed to go, but I wanted her to stay. It was fucking selfish.
The fighting escalated. I found myself in the infirmary almost every other day versus the usual two times a week. I’d watch her flitter around the room, sweetly taking care of the dirty inmates who stared at her ass and fucked her with their eyes.
It was wrong, but even I allowed myself the privilege of watching her lithe body move around the space. Every time I saw her, she grew more confident in her job. She smiled more at the nicer inmates¸ and the ones who were just there for their meds or to have their blood sugar checked.
The lucky bastards.
Being bathed in her sweet smile was a privilege they didn’t understand. I understood it all too well. It got to the point where I craved her smile, but somehow, no matter how many times I went to the infirmary, she never tended to me. Probably because I was such a sick fuck the last time I spoke to her. I was doing what I had to do to push her away. I hadn’t meant to get so fucking turned on by the dirty talk.
Instead of Red, I’d get stuck with Dr. Giles or on the days when Ms. Evans wasn’t there, I’d get one of the less attractive nurses. Finally, I learned her schedule—four days on and four off. It was twisted, and honestly, it was a form of stalking, but it didn’t matter to me. She became the thing I looked forward to.
She leaned over her desk, her perfect, heart-shaped ass sticking up, and I felt my mouth water. I imagined pulling her scrubs down and fucking her until I unloaded deep inside her. My dick twitched, ready to stand at attention, but once I saw two other inmates eyeing her ass, the anger seeped back in and my dick deflated like a fucking balloon.
One inmate cracked a smile at the other and licked his lips provocatively while the other one rubbed his hands together and pretended to spank the air like he was spanking her ass.
I cringed just thinking about their filthy hands on her perfect skin. The thought of their dirty mouths anywhere near her made my skin crawl with rage—raw and extreme—so hot it made me want to claw at my skin and rip it away from my body.
When she turned back around, her eyes flashed to me and I felt it in my chest. She straightened her posture and continued to care for the two sick fucks who openly stared at her ass and tits. She was clueless to what she was doing to them. Hell, what she was doing to me. Maybe that was why she was so fucking appealing. She didn’t know she was gorgeous.
I wasn’t paying any attention as Dr. Giles, who was cleaning a new cut on my cheek. My eyes lingered on her. I watched as her almond-shaped eyes shifted as she read the paper she was holding. She pressed the tip of the pen against her mouth, giving me a physical reaction.
It was such an innocent act, but just the sight of something touching her plump, pink lips was enough to send my cock standing high.
It was then I learned her name.
“Lyla?” Dr. Giles called out to her.
Her name was Lyla. It was such a beautiful name, and it matched her perfectly.
“Yes, sir?”
“Could you come stitch Mr. X up when you get a second?”
She blanched and her face whitened. Her plump lips tightened, showing her unhappiness with his request. She didn’t want to be near me, and while that should’ve made me happy, it sent a twinge of sadness through me. I’d acted like a douche for a reason, and I’d obviously done a good job, but still, it sucked.
“Sure.” She forced a smile.
She came my way, her eyes never reaching mine, and then she replaced her gloves with a fresh pair.
I sat still, letting my eyes roam over her face as she stitched up my cheek. She didn’t talk to me this time, and as much as I hated talking, I wanted her to. I didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled or how she kept swallowing her nerves. I hated myself in that moment because I knew how uncomfortable she was around me. Me—a murderer—someone not worthy of her smile.
It was bullshit that I was even daydreaming about a woman like her. I gave up the rights to anyone when I decided to lose my fucking mind and decapitate two people.