God, please don’t let me have a heart attack while I’m driving to the prison. Because that’s sure what it feels like right now as I grip the wheel and focus hard on the road.
My heart is racing, and my body heat is so high I must be ready to spontaneously light on fire. My palms are both sweating, my knuckles are white, and I’m taking deep, panicked breaths like I was just saved from drowning when really all I’m doing is driving up a nice scenic road with tall pine trees on both sides.
But it’s not the scenery that’s doing this to me; it’s the destination.
I’m on my way to see Bain Warden for a conjugal visit, and although two days ago when I called the prison to accept his request and put myself on the schedule, I was all fired up and ready to go, now that I’m driving and less than five minutes away from arriving, I’m absolutely on the verge of a full-blown freak out.
So many questions are bouncing around in my mind like a bag of marbles emptied onto a concrete floor: What if he doesn’t like me when he sees me? What if he’s too rough with me? What if he hurts me? What if I don’t please him? What if he sees me and tells me to go home because he thinks I somehow catfished him or something?
Can you even catfish someone unintentionally?
Oh God, I’m losing it.
I figured since Bain first saw me during his trial that I should wear something that reminded him of those days, so I’m wearing an outfit like I’d wear to work, only a bit sexier than I’d be comfortable with. In fact, it’s probably an outfit Rick would like me in. Too bad he doesn’t get to see it.
Black heels, with black stockings, a black pencil skirt and a black top with a cute little collar with a bow and an off-black blazer to pull it all together. I have a gold chain necklace as well that hangs down just enough to draw a man’s attention if he’s not careful.
When the prison comes into view, I feel my heart skip a beat or two. That’s when things start to get real and become more than just a fantasy between Kelly and me. I see the stone walls, the barred windows, the lines and lines of barbed wire fencing enclosing it on all sides.
He’s in there, I think as I pull into the parking lot. In there somewhere…waiting for me.
I have to admit, something about that turns me on even more. The man I’m coming to see being held in such a place. What could such a dangerous man have in store for me?
I get out of the car, trying every relaxation technique I know to slow my rapid heartbeat (and none of them working), and begin to walk toward the sign labeled Visitors. I hear a whistle from my left and turn, and it’s then that I see them.
Prisoners. Men. Lined up by the fence or walking up to it, their eyes all locked on me like hungry dogs staring at a steak. Eyes wide, jaws loose, some of their tongues out and practically wagging, they stare at me like I’m the first woman they’ve seen in months – years. And for some of them, maybe I am.
They call out at me, “Hey, baby,” and “Yo, sweet thing,” and other things along those lines as I walk to the thick metal door where a guard stands.
“Ignore them,” he tells me. “They’re animals.”
In my profession, you learn to keep your cool pretty quickly, but even I’m thrown off right now and fumble as I get my I.D. out of my purse to show to him. He glances at it, back at me, then down at his clipboard and nods.
“You’re on the list.” He glances back through the fence to another man behind him and shouts, “Bernie! Let ‘er in!”
There’s a loud, almost-deafening electronic buzz, and the man opens the door for me.
“Um, thanks,” I say as I step through and walk past the men, who are now hollering at me, to Bernie, who holds another door open for me to let me into the prison.
From there, it’s a lengthy process of more guards checking me in, inspecting me and my purse to make sure I’m not trying to smuggle in any contraband before I’m finally let out into a side yard containing five trailers set in a row. The guard with me points to the second one.
“He’s in there,” he tells me.
“Thank you.” I start to walk over to it, but before I can, I feel his hand close around my arm and pull me back.
“Listen,” he says quietly. “He’s no sweetheart, all right? He’s a dangerous man. Murderer. You watch out for yourself, okay?”
“He won’t hurt me,” I reply. The guard looks at me like I’m crazy.
“It’s your ass, lady.”
But he lets me go, and I begin walking over to the trailer. I take a deep breath but do my best to hide it so he can’t see it.
This is it, I think.
After all those letters, all that time pursuing me, I’m finally going to meet the man. Slowly, I place one foot after the other up the steps until I reach the top, then reach out and take the doorknob in my hand. But just as I’m about to turn it, it twists on its own, and the door opens to reveal Bain standing there looking down at me.
“You came.” He smiles, his eyes are filled with an obvious delight that hits me instantly, going straight to my core like a penetrating energy I’ve never felt in my life.
“I…” My God, I don’t even know what to say, so I just keep it simple. “Yes, I did.”
He’s even more handsome than I remember. Somehow being in prison has enhanced his good looks. He’s in even better shape than he was during the trial, and he’s more rugged and tough-looking than he was before.
I suddenly have the urge to simply undress for him and show him everything – even after all the work I put into my outfit. My nipples harden with arousal, and I’m sure he can tell because the bra I’m wearing is lace and does nothing to support me.
He’s wearing a simple white tank top with a pair of prison-issue pants made from dark blue cloth. Whatever shoes he normally wears he’s taken off and stands before me barefoot.
“It’s not the Four Seasons.” He grins. “But come on in.”
With an exaggerated flourish of his arm, Bain holds the door for me while I enter the dingy little trailer. I hide my smile as I get a funny feeling in my belly and keep my best “lawyer face” on as I turn around to face him.
“Better than a prison cell, though,” I say.
“You got that right,” he replies. “I also called in a favor and had the whole place cleaned before today.”
“A favor.” I nod, raising my eyebrows. “You’re making friends here, huh?”
“I’ve still got friends on the outside.” He grins. “They’ll still pull a few strings for me from time to time. But we don’t need to talk about that. I’m just glad you came. I wasn’t sure you would after you never responded to any of my letters.”
I feel myself blushing and can’t help it. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t…I wasn’t sure, you know?”
“I understand.” Bain smiles. How is it possible a prisoner’s teeth are whiter than a future partner at a law office’s? I shake the thought of Rick from my mind. “What was it that finally made you make up your mind?”
“Well,” I reply, my heart absolutely racing. “You’re just such a romantic, you know?”
Bain bursts out laughing. Somehow I feel like I’m on a first date that’s been a long time coming – like I’ve finally met up with a man all my friends have been begging me to meet up with, who they’ve all assured me would be perfect for me. He’s actually quite charming. If it weren’t for the décor, I could almost convince myself we were meeting under different circumstances.
But that wouldn’t be as fun, would it?
“So the whole serial-killer thing doesn’t bother you?”
And then Bain just comes right out and says it. I actually lose my breath for a second, along with my thought process. Do I just tell him that his viciousness and ferocity is actually a turn-on? Or will me telling him that actually turn him off from me? Suddenly, I feel backed into a corner.
“I…you won’t hurt me,” I reply, repeating what I told the guard. That will have to do for now until I can figure out something better. But from the way Bain looks back at me, it seems to work just fine.
“You know you’re right about that.” He grins, eyes flashing as he steps closer, so closer I can smell his scent. He reaches out and places a firm hand on my waist and looks into my eyes. “At least not intentionally.”
