Prisoner and Together: All of You series complete set

PRISONER

And

Together

All of You Books 1 and 2

Melissa Silvey

PRISONER

ALL OF YOU BOOK ONE

MELISSA SILVEY

PRISONER

ALL OF YOU BOOK ONE

Written by: Melissa Silvey

Edited by: Kim Quick

Self Published by Melissa Silvey

Copyright 2015 Melissa Silvey

All Rights Reserved

Please do not copy, or publish without the express written consent of author.

This book is intended for mature audiences.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Any likeness to any person is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements:

I can’t say enough thank you’s to Kim Quick, the best editor I could have ever found. 

Also, thank you to all of the people who read, reacted, and reviewed.  You’ve helped me craft an amazing story, with two characters who I am passionately in love with.

Also, thanks to Jay, who always encourages my obsession with my stories, and always pretends like he’s listening when I plot out a story out loud.

Chapter One

Detective Melanie
Lani
Vaden

“Oh, fuck!”  He screams it.  His hips are hitting against my ass as he pounds into me.  I’m bent over my bathroom sink, and he’s behind me.  I’m looking at him in the mirror, and he’s staring at my ass while rubbing his hands over my back.  When his eyes lock on mine, I see an almost euphoric gleam in them.

We always have sex at my house, because he’s married.  And we usually do it in the bathroom, because I don’t want to have to wash my sheets every day.  He smacks my ass, for some reason he gets off on it.  Personally, I don’t like it. 

“You better fucking come, Lani.  We don’t have all day.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.  You’re not the boss in my house,” I growl back. 

His response is a chuckle.  He grinds his hips into my ass, but I’m really just not feeling it today.  Looking back at him, I don’t even know why I told him to come over.  I know, I get off on doing my commanding officer.  I’ve had this little thing going where I’ve done most of my CO’s.  All but two, one was an old man, and the other was an uptight Christian female.  I really wanted to fuck her, she had beautiful tits.  The way they bounced when she walked made everyone stop and stare.  I heard she was let go from the police department in the capitol city of Oakville, for having an affair with the mayor.  Oh, well.

“Come bitch,” he orders, and grabs my thick chestnut ponytail. 

I don’t like it when he pulls my hair, and I hate it when he calls me bitch.  Then I look up at him, and I realize the affair just isn’t fun anymore.  At first, it was exciting.  He’s good looking in a surfer boy kind of way.  He reminded me of my step-dad, with his sandy blonde hair and pale blue eyes.  He was all “off-limits” and “I don’t do that kind of stuff”.  I knew he was doing a girl in the accounting department.  I think he just told me no so that I would chase him, which of course I did.  But the excitement’s worn off.  Now, it’s almost like a chore.  Besides that, he’s put on weight since he got behind a desk.  He used to have the most amazing abs, now he has more of a keg than a six pack.  I’d rather cuddle up with my vibrator, to be honest.

“I’m gonna come,” he exclaims, and I watch his shoulders shiver from it.  He’s wearing a condom, so I don’t care if he says he’s coming or not. 

Once he’s done, he steps back, and I watch him remove the condom and throw it away.  For all his talk about wanting me to come too, he isn’t much interested in doing any reciprocating, and most times I’m okay with that.  I don’t mind doing it myself after he’s gone.  Today, though, I don’t wait.  I need the release, I need the orgasm, and he just can’t give it to me.

I reach my hands between my legs, and start to rub my clit.  When he notices, he makes a half-hearted attempt to help me.  He rubs my nipples, and sighs, “Come for me, Lani.”  He might as well be saying,
hurry up, I’m tired of this already
.

I close my eyes, and imagine being fucked, really hard.  I’m tired of being the piece on the side.  I’m tired of being the booty call.  I want someone to concentrate only on my pleasure.  I want someone to make love to me until my knees shake.  I want exploding, multiple orgasms.  I want it all.  I want to come. 

“I want to come,” I moan.

“Why don’t you come when I fuck you anymore, baby?  What do you want me to do differently?”  How do I tell him that I’ve been faking orgasms for a while now?  How do I tell him that, for at least a month, I’ve been finishing myself off with my main man BOB after he’s left?  He never stays with me, he always returns to his family; but I’m not bitter.  I like being alone.  I do what I want, and who I want, when I want, and no one tells me otherwise.

“Get down on your knees and eat it,” I order, as I climb up on the edge of the counter.  He always does what I tell him, so I can’t complain about that.  He immediately kneels in front of me, which is kinda sexy, but when he starts I can tell he’s just going through the motions.  He doesn’t rub my clit, or finger my pussy.  So, if we’re both just going through the motions, why are we still doing it?

I reach orgasm, but it’s not a good one.  I come harder when I’m alone with my toys. 

I open my eyes, and he’s staring deeply into them. 

“What’s wrong, Lani?  Do you want to try a different position?  Do you want to cuff me to the bed again?”  I think, maybe, he really is concerned.  I think he might actually be interested in my feelings. 

I shrug.  “Maybe we can try it missionary style every once in a while?”  That way, he’d have to actually look at me, and touch me, and he wouldn’t be able to smack my ass.

“We can try it however you want to, Lani.  You just have to let me know what you want.”  I nod my head.  “I care about you, you know I do.”  He says it as he’s washing his dick in my sink.  I hand him a towel, and he dries off before putting his clothes on.  He said one day his wife accused him of cheating on her, because she smelled the rubber. I think he was just looking for an excuse not to wear one.  Since then, he’s washed after sex, but he still wears the rubber.

If he really cared about me, he would have hugged me, and kissed me, instead of washing his dick and getting dressed.

“I know.”  As he heads into my bedroom, I pull the shower curtain and start the water.  He’ll head home, to his wife and his kids.  I’ll see him tomorrow morning, at work.  Sure, he’s my boss, my commanding officer.  He gets some kind of high off of it, like he’s so in control.  I used to get a high off of it too, because I felt like I could get away with any stupid shit I might do.  Like this one time, when I told an asshole to stop calling us because his neighbor’s dog gets in his yard, and to fix his damn fence.  Or another time, when I told a lady to call the fire department when she said her dog was being chased by a deer, and gave her the phone number.  Sure, I get tired of people’s petty complaints.  I am human after all.

I’ve been a cop since I was twenty, when I graduated from community college with a degree in Criminal Justice.  My dad is a cop, and his dad was a cop.  And if I had a brother, it’s a fairly sure bet he’d be a cop too.  All I have is a younger sister, who is spoiled rotten, smokes weed every day, and has a boyfriend who is a bad influence.

Well, I had a sister.  Until seventeen days ago, I had a sister.  She was my half-sister, my
sister from another mister
; that mister being my mom’s second husband.  Apparently it’s easier being married to a doctor than a cop. 

I think best in the shower.  I know that she died in police custody.  I know she was a drama queen, and a smoker, and she liked bad boys.  But she was my sister, and I know she wouldn’t commit suicide.  She was too self-centered. 

So the problem I have to figure out is how to investigate my sister’s death.  She died in a farming town forty-five minutes south of Winston.  She was on her way to some stupid four day music festival in Tennessee.  She stopped to buy pot, and got caught by a local officer.  Her boyfriend is still in jail.  This is his third drug offense.  He’s about to be sentenced to life.  They wouldn’t give him bail, and before Doctor Dad’s lawyer could get her released, she hung herself in her cell.

Or, at least that’s what they said. 

This is why I sleep with my commanding officers.  I always try to have a strategy, a way to get what I want.  So maybe I’m a little like Addy. 

I could get arrested too, but they’d know I’m a cop as soon as I’m fingerprinted.  I wouldn’t be able to investigate anything if they knew I was investigating.  That’s the problem. 

And I don’t have a solution yet.

I didn’t even notice until I walked into my bedroom after my shower and found his tie lying on my dresser, that I hadn’t even thought about Lieutenant Dane Barrett after he left.  This is a sticky situation.  How do I tell my boss that I don’t want to see him anymore?

(Former) Chief Petty Officer Antony
Tony
Roman

“You’ve been chosen, Roman.  Next week.”  The guard said the words I’d been dreading.  I knew it wouldn’t take them long.  I’ve been here four months.  I haven’t been in solitary the entire time, and the other prisoners like to talk.  That’s really all they have to do.

This is the sixth prison they’ve stuck me in.  They try to say I’m a menace, a threat.   Most wardens would let me know the first day I arrived I’d be put in solitary confinement if I even looked at anyone funny. 

Needless to say, I’ve been in and out of solitary confinement for the last ten years.  Fucking federal prisons.  The wardens are pieces of shit.  All of the other prisoners think they’re badass and try to start shit with me.  Most of the time, I just let it pass.  Most of the time I ignore it like it’s nothing.  They call me pussy, cocksucker, ass licker.  They call me faggot, queer.  Half of them are fucking each other.  I don’t give a fuck what they do, or what they think I do.  But when they call me baby killer, that’s when I crack open their skulls like eggs.

I was a SEAL.  I went on a mission.  I did what I was ordered to do.  Some fucking insurgent started shooting, a trigger happy warrant officer started shooting back, and the firefight killed the entire village.  The powers that be put all of us on trial for war crimes.  I’m not a fucking baby killer.  We had orders. 

But I’m not a murderer.  I’m not going to kill someone just because some rich assholes want a show.  Once a week, that’s how many death matches they have.  They could probably have more, no one would miss these men. 

I’m not going to be their ape.  I’m going to go in that fucking cage, and I’m going to let the guy kill me.  I’m fucking done living behind bars with these fucking degenerates, these criminals.

Lani

“How would you break into a jail?”  I ask my partner, with a huge smile.  We’re headed toward the high school, because the janitor reported some vandalism.  I drive, because I always drive.

“You know I hate it when you wear that perfume.  You smell like Constance, and it confuses me,” he says with a grin.  “Wear the other one that smells like fruit.”  My partner is pretty hot, but he’s married to the first girl I had sex with.  I can’t cross that line.  I can’t have had sex with both partners in a relationship, that’s just too weird.  But for James Johnson, I could make an exception.  Hell, I could do both of them at the same time. 

Constance Johnson’s dad is a cop, too.  But she followed along in her mom’s footsteps, she’s a badge bunny.  She also has perfect tits, round and slightly sloping, with big, sensitive nipples.  I used my cuffs on her so many times.  She loved it.  She literally begged for it.  Every time I think of Constance and her huge tits, I smile at her husband.

“How would I break into a jail?” he parrots, after several moments in what I’m sure is deep thought.  “Why are you smiling like that?” 

I shrug.  “It’s nothing.  Answer my question.”  It’s not like we have all day to hash out my plan, we’re nearly at the school. 

“How would I break into a jail?”  He’s thoughtful for several more moments.  “Is this about Addison?”

“Yes, this is about Addison.”  I’m not going to lie to him, he’s my partner, especially when he looks at me with that beautiful smile and those bright blue eyes.  “What would you do if you were in my position?”

“Addy was a spoiled little brat who, might I remind you, you hated.”  We’re here, and we’re parked.  “But if I wanted to get into a jail, I’d make it look like a transfer.  And you know who I’d ask to help with that?  My wife.”

Constance is in the Clerical and Tech Department of the County Sheriff’s Office.  She’s also pretty good at her job. 

“Your wife owes me a few favors,” I say as we exit the car.  “You know what I hate about this job?  Investigating petty shit.  I mean, who gives a fuck if a kid spray painted a dick on the bathroom wall?  Clean it up!”

“Act like you care,” Jamie reminds me as he puts his sunglasses on over those dazzling blue eyes, then turns toward me. 

“You’re so pretty, you make me wish I liked boys,” I tease him. 

“You say the sweetest things.”  He smiles as he says it.  I’m going to get under his skin eventually, and maybe in his bed.  He knows I like men, I just somehow wind up sleeping with women more often.