My Very Own Winter Soldier.

Chapter 5

Leaving me alone, he walks back to the control room. Moving through the door, I enter a small enclosed porch with the doors leading to the courtyard on my left. The only furniture is two stainless steel benches and a table, bolted to the floor. There are also security gates in front of the doors leading to the courtyard, which are standing open at the moment.

At the end of the passage, there is another set of double doors with security gates in front of them. That must be the door through which prisoners are being brought into the cells.

Reaching the first two cells, I can see that the only furniture is a bed, a small table, and a chair, all made from stainless steel and bolted to the floor. The cells are big enough for prisoners to move comfortably in. Each cell also has an area with a basin, shower, and toilet in it on the right side of the cell, also made from stainless steel.

A wall, about a meter high, surrounds the toilet and shower to give the prisoners some privacy while still making it possible for the guards to see them. There is a small stainless steel shelf attached to the wall in each shower as well as in the cell itself.

The front of the cell is covered with thick steel bars with a security gate in the middle of the space. There is a small opening in the middle of the security gate for passing food trays through. Standing in front of the cell, there is a camera mounted to the ceiling of the passage to the left of each cell, making it possible to see the whole cell from that angle.

Kurt said Sergeant Barnes is in the furthest cell on the left.

Taking a moment to compose myself, I just stand there, listening. It is dead quiet. For a second, I wonder if he is actually in his cell. An irrational trickle of fear races up my spine, and I quickly look back to make sure he's not behind me.

Seeing no one, I start to walk towards his cell, palms sweaty and my breathing shallow and slightly erratic.

When I reach his cell, I see him lying on his bed facing the wall.

Up until now, he has given no sign that he is aware of my presence. I am on heels, so unless he is deaf he must be sleeping.

Standing as far away from the bars as possible, I take a closer look at the man who will be my responsibility for the next month or two.

He is lying in the fetal position with his knees bend, both his arms resting in front of him.

His shoulder-length brown hair is falling forward over his left cheek, obscuring the little bit of his face I might have been able to see. He's not wearing the usual white prison overall, but black jeans, a red Henley shirt, and black boots.

Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat before I say, "Sergeant Barnes, my name is Chelsey. Can I speak to you for a minute?"

At first, he does not react, but then he slowly lifts his head before he starts to turn on his back, his hair falling over his left cheek, still preventing me from seeing his face. Looking at the ceiling, he stays like that for a few seconds, the metal of his cybernetic arm visible where his left sleeve has been pushed up to his elbow before he sits up in one fluid movement.

With his head hanging down, he sits bend forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his hair still preventing me from seeing his face.

He is big. Not "body builder" big, more like "well trained athlete" big. His shoulders are wide, and the muscles on his right arm are well defined, his long legs lean and muscled.

Sitting like that, he looks dangerous. Like a cat, ready to pounce.

When he slowly starts to lift his head, I knew, in the deepest parts of my being, that I will never be the same again.

Inch by inch his face is revealed to me until for the first time I come face to face with the man who was a ghost for the last seventy years.

My God! For a moment, I am stunned by the perfection of his face.

He has a broad forehead with a dimple between his straight eyebrows, his shockingly cold ocean blue eyes standing out against the golden brown of his skin. Looking into his eyes, icy fingers race up my spine.

Day old dark stubble covers a strong and perfectly straight jawline that ends in high cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose with full red lips. Fuck but his mouth is absolutely perfect. Forbidden images of his mouth all over my body races through my mind, making me feel hot all over.

Standing there watching his motionless body, a shiver of apprehension runs through my body. He doesn't say a word, just sits there watching me, his steel blue eyes slowly travelling down my body and back up again. It feels like his seeing right through me.

Slowly his cold eyes start to darken and for a split second I thought I saw raw lust in his eyes, sending the most deliciously dangerous tingles running up my spine before he looks down again.

When he looks up at me again, his eyes are as icy cold as the weather outside again, making me believe that I must have imagined the lust I thought I saw in his eyes.

The physical effect this man has on me is simply shocking. His intense blue eyes travelling up and down my body send heat racing through me, setting my body on fire, the long forgotten burning sensation starting between my legs getting more intense by the second until I can feel my juices soak my panty.

"What do you want to talk about?" his husky voice breaks the silence, running through my body like an electric current straight down to my very core, the urge to squeeze my legs together almost unbearable.

"My word! I think I just came close to having a mini orgasm."