Make You Love

Chapter 27

"Of course. I did."
He lifted his chin up, head high.
"Was she my girlfriend? Did I swear on my life that I'd protect her? Tell me, baby girl."

Unsure, Isla juggled her thinking rapidly. Resisted his attempts to erase any space between them.
"Yeah? What does it matter now? Isn't her dead body lurking beneath slimy worms at the moment?"

"I thought you were over her. Is this all some sorta joke to you?"

"That it is," he affirmed in a tone so gentle but commanding, badder than hell on a bad day.

He spun her endlessly like the master of his craft. She was his own little spitfire, drugging him with her lethal magic. God knows how they both ended up together.

"Can you figure this out for me? I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're precisely thirty miles away from the federal prison. Or, I thought they put you in juvie?"

"Would you be happy if you saw me rot in jail?"

"Hell no."

"Good."

"Because, in case you've forgotten, I'm currently madly... " He sealed off air from her lungs, enticing her lips into his mouth, teleporting the feeling of breeze whispering on the back of one's palm. She froze yet melted all at once, yielding to his wishes the second he made them clear with his nibbling on the corner of her mouth, lavishing her with the slightest hint of mint on his breath.

"Falling for you. Too bad you're gonna have to live with my affection, Isla."

She'd never desired to kiss someone as much as she did Craig.

"I don't know how to love," she admitted shamefully.

This golden boy served his emotions to her on a silver platter, but she couldn't make use of it?

"Once I'm outta jail, I'll teach you." He promised solemnly, mirroring her teary eye. "I'll teach you everything from start to finish, baby girl."

"You..."
She soaked up his love as a sponge did water, only to let it drip off her heart the next second.
"You mentioned cameras and bugging. Care to explain?"

He dipped his head lower to meet hers, eager to quench his burning thirst for the girlfriend of his childhood.

"No kissing until you tell me what the fuck is going on." Isla ducked sideways so he landed his peck on her cheek.

He followed through, building up the sizzling warmth, delicious, ravaging his insides.
"You wanna be a bad girl, don't you?"

Her core clenched from his daring proximity as he stroked her face ever so slowly. She attempted to focus on the manila envelope on her dad's desk, but he tortured her face with miniature kisses; here, there, everywhere.

"But I can be a bad boy if I wanna be," he reminded.

Oh yeah, now he was talking. She had this thing for bad boys. The same thing that motivated her to walk all over them, punishing their souls for sins she felt they committed. The sins of loving her.

"Show me how bad you can be," she mused.

That proved to be the single command he'd been waiting for. He swooped down, smashing his mouth on hers, timidly at first, but emboldened when she kissed him back. Together, they sailed into their own little world carved out of lies and love and betrayal. But the greatest of these was love.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"
She gulped a lungful of air.

"For helping me with my evidence."

Then the puzzle came arranging itself together.

"You came to me to provide evidence against you?"

"Pretty much. Please, don't be mad at me. I did it because my lawyer asked me. He said if I show those jurors how much I love you, they might pity me."

She zeroed in on the real him. Helpless. Hapless. Lovesick. And, as if nothing else could fit in, vulnerable. She wavered in her doubt of him, perhaps concluding he deserved a chance to prove himself worthy of her.

"So, these cameras..."

"Are picking up each and every word of our crazy talk. I hope my lawyer doesn't find us too cheesy though. He's gay." Craig whispered the last part as if it was his dirty little secret.

"The trial continues tomorrow. Are you sure you can handle it? Craig, if you didn't do it, don't let these guys blame it on you. I'll get me a gun and bring them down with a bullet or two."

He almost giggled at her courage.
"Yeah, sure. Just don't happen to shoot yourself."

She pulled a pouty face and poked his chest, secretly fawning over his six packs.
"Take that back or I'm gonna shoot you first."

They both erupted into laughter despite the heaviness of their situation. It was great to have their fears being tossed aside many miles away, sharing their joys together. Once their chuckles subsided, Isla raised her knuckle, and with great interest, grazed his cheek.
"But__ you'll be okay?"

"I promise."
He took her fingers in his, lifting them to his lips, before kissing them.

Somehow, that kiss was more sensual than the rest. He took care to maintain eye contact with her the whole time, letting her know those little things on his mind, like he'd always be there for her.

"I'm not dying just yet," he assured.

"What if you're convicted? I'm scared, Craig. What am I gonna do without you?" Isla sobbed silently.

He considered the truth in her admission for a few seconds. What if he was convicted? He'd pretty much jam in prison for the rest of his miserable life. She?

Three prison guards uniformed in black marched into the office, brandishing handcuffs. As soon as he laid eyes on them, Craig stretched out his wrists over which they clasped the cuffs.

The ghost of a smile hovered around his countenance. His style of telling her not to worry even though he was a bundle of nerves.

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry, baby girl."
He winked mischievously.