When I first started out as a corrections officer,
I was told to keep an eye out for the bad ones,
or the influences. As a woman, it was easy to
get trapped, to get caught up in the life of
a criminal. But at 25, I thought I had my head
on straight. I thought I had everything under
control. And it stayed that way for two years.
I kept my head down, did my job, and kept those
criminals in line. That was… until Vince Trevato
came into my life. He was booked for assault
and possession of a deadly weapon. He's also
known to be in a gang. I got transferred to the
night shift, which meant I saw him every minute,
every second. And I don't know. There was just
something about this man that drew me in. Vince
has this smirk, a smile that calls to me, a sweet
and dangerous one, just on the edge of trouble.
And then the tattoos. They are different. I've
seen tattoos over the years. But on him? They
look good. They look fucking sexy. Vince is the
solid build of a guy who frequents the gym and
can pick me up with one hand. I'm a relatively
big girl, so I know what I'm saying. He has a
deep tan and a look my mom warned me about. Like
the bad boy in high school. The kind that gets
you in trouble and disappears when you're stuck
in a rut. But every night, when I do my rounds,
Vince is standing at the bars, looking at me.
I'll stop, take one good look at him, and he'll
smile, just like I always imagined. I'm getting
out tomorrow, he says, and it takes me by surprise.
Guys like him didn't just walk out, they stay
in or get transferred to the worst of the worst.
So that means either he has a damn good lawyer,
Or the guy he works for has high people in their
pocket. I guess that's a good thing, I say. Are
you gonna miss me? I shake my head. I'm not even
supposed to be talking to him. And yet, here
I am. I'm gonna miss those thick thighs of yours.
And those beautiful lips. I can't say the same
about you. Oh, come on. There's gotta be something
you'll miss. I don't even know you. You know
me enough to stop and talk to me tonight. I didn't
respond. Just stared down the hallway where I
should have been moments ago. Don't worry, babe.
I'll find you. That stops me cold. Find me? He
winks. Go on. Don't give them the wrong idea.
Then he turns around and heads back to his bed.
Good night, sweet thing. At first, I don't think
anything of what Vince said. After all, he's
just a criminal with a good lawyer. But when
I come back the next day, he's gone. Just like
he said. I get off my shift that morning, and
as I'm driving home, my phone rings. It's an
unidentified number, but I answer anyway. It
could be my brother. He's always had a thing
for burner phones. Yes? I answer. Hello, sweet
thing. A chill runs through my spine at the sound
of his voice. How did you get my number? It's
quite easy. Missed me? I hang up. My heart's
racing. And I have to pull off to the side of
the road. I've done it. I've finally done the
exact thing I swore I'd never do when I started
this job. I played with the devils. And now,
they want me. I take a breath, then another.
By the time I'm home, I'm staring at my phone,
thinking maybe he'll call back. But he doesn't.
Not that night. Not the next. Not even the one
after that. But five days later. I'm on my way
to my mom's house for the weekend when my phone
rings again. It's a different number, but I answer.
Are you gonna hang up on me now? That depends.
What? You don't want to talk to me. How did you
get my number? It's not that hard, actually.
Are you scared? No. Good. Should I be scared?
I don't know. Maybe you should tell me. What
do you want from me? I want to see you. That's
going to be impossible. Make it possible, sweet
cake. Or do I have to come find you myself? I
go quiet. I'm parked outside my mom's house.
A glance up tells me she's standing on the porch,
probably wondering why I'm still in the car.
She'll be walking over any minute now. Listen,
I say to Vince, I'm busy right now. I can't talk.
So you want a rain check? No, I need you to stop
calling me. I don't think I can do that. Then
try. I hang up and step out of my car. I don't
know why, but this thing between us, this banter,
feels good. It's edgy, dangerous. But I'm playing.
I'm literally playing at the devil's door. Because
why the hell do I want this so badly? Am I really
that bored with my life that I'd consider a rendezvous
with a criminal? I fix my dress, close the car
door. and smile as I walk up the cobblestone
path toward my mom and her sister. What were
you doing in the car so long? Mom asks. I was
on a phone call. Work thing. Sorry. That's alright.
My phone buzzes again. I ignore it. Well, you
can answer it. No, I'm fine. But I'm not. I'm
itching to answer it. Itching to hear that deep,
wicked voice. This man has me in a chokehold.
and I don't know why. The day is almost over,
and not once has Vince called me back. I've been
on edge the entire evening because of that. Because
I want him to. But he doesn't. And now I'm a
wreck. I leave my mom's place and drive home,
thinking maybe, just maybe, he'll know I'm home.
But still, nothing. I wait another week. An entire
week. And when he finally calls, I answer without
hesitation. Someone's quick to answer. He says,
I thought it was my mom. He laughs, deep and
unfiltered. And damn it, I smile. It's good to
know I can make him laugh. Your mom. So you do
have a mom. Instant regret. Shouldn't have said
that. It's okay. He murmurs. You don't have to
lie. Your secret's safe with me. What secret?
Nothing. So, are you ready for me to see you?
No. Then I guess I'll have to come to you. You
don't know where I live. The moment it leaves
my mouth, he recites my address like he's known
it his whole life. Like it's his own damn nursery
rhyme. I suck in a sharp breath. How did you
know that? I told you. It's easy to know things.
Have you been watching me? Do you want me to
watch you? I stay quiet. I guess you do. I never
answered you. Would it turn you on to know I'm
watching? Again, I'm silent. Because the idea
crawls over my skin and burns down through my
veins. I hate it. And I fucking want it. You're
liking this, aren't you? I don't know who you
are. I'm not going to trust a criminal and a
stranger. Then don't trust me, Angela. Now he
knows my name. I've never given him my name.
Shit. So, you got a boyfriend? Yes. I answer
too quickly. He tisks his tongue. I don't believe
you. Why? Because the entire time I've been watching,
not once have you had a guy over. Silence. This
is spiraling. He knows too much. This should
be the end of the call. This is the point where
I should run. I should alert the police. And
yet, I stay. So, do you wanna fuck? I swallow
a lump in my throat. Excuse me? When last have
you been fucked? That's none of your concern.
It is now. What do you want from me? There's
silence for some seconds, but then he says...
I want us to become friends. Close friends. Sorry,
I don't acquaint with criminals. Ha ha ha Still
nothing. Are you always this mum when people
ask you questions? What do you want, Vince? I
already told you. I want to see you. I could
lose my job just speaking with you. You won't.
Trust me. It's hard to trust a guy I barely know.
Don't you trust your boss to pay you at the end
of the month? Even though you don't know them?
Okay. He says? Let's make it a bit easier. How
about we video chat? You get to see me, I get
to see you, and I'm the only one doing the things
around here. What things? You'll see. I don't
have a laptop. That's not a problem, sweetheart.
Tomorrow. We'll do it then, okay? I'm confused.
Do what? You'll see. Don't worry. I've got you.
I still don't say anything. I feel like every
word is digging me deeper. Like if I speak, I'll
cross the point of no return. All right. If you
don't want to say anything, I'll talk to you
tomorrow. I hang up. I barely sleep. I wake up
the morning and I'm a fucking wreck. Not even
three cups of coffee are calming my nerves. Hi,
sweet cakes. What do you want? Feisty. I've got
a gift for you. In less than 30 seconds. 20,
actually. You'll hear a knock at your door. No
one will be there. But you can collect your gift.
I shoot to my feet and rush to the door, checking
the peephole. No one's there. But I hear footsteps.
Quick, fading. I open the door, and down the
hallway, a guy disappears around the corner.
I look down. A decent -sized box sits at my feet,
wrapped in shiny purple paper. Did you get it?
I did. Good. Now open it. I head back to my couch,
tear it open, and freeze. It's a laptop. I stare
at it like it's glowing. Like it's illegal. And
maybe it is. Suppose it's stolen. What if I just
received stolen goods? Where did you get this
from? An electronics store. He says like it's
no big deal. Load it up. There's an app on the
desktop, right below the recycling bin. Click
it. I open the laptop and boot it up. Just like
he said, the app is there. I click it. Select
log in. I do. The camera flicks on automatically
and suddenly I'm calling him or someone. My gut
twists. Are you still there? Yes, I say, holding
the phone taut to my ear. Good. You're calling
to have a video conversation. When I answer,
you'll see me. It's up to you if you want me
to see you. You can turn off your video or leave
it on. It's your choice. Just mute it and keep
the call rolling for me. I swallow. Okay. What
are you doing right now? Sitting on my couch.
You comfortable? I think so. Good. He answers
the video call. He's lying in bed, propped up
against white fluffy pillows. His sheets are
perfectly tucked, thick and clean, like some
luxury hotel. The room is softly lit, gray walls,
padded headboard, serene. But it's him I can't
stop looking at. Tattoos everywhere, teardrops
under his eyes, the number 51 on his cheek, skulls
inked into his neck, stitched symbols around
his lips. He's all danger. And I'm completely
drawn to him. There's movement in the background,
then the laptop lowers onto the bed. Vince steps
away from the screen for a second, out of frame.
Want to hang up the phone? He says. You can always
just listen to the audio. No. I prefer to keep
it on. You sure? Isn't this your work phone?
All the more reason to keep it safe from you.
He laughs. Okay. But I think you'll change your
mind soon. The camera shifts again, and Vince
comes back into frame, shirtless, wearing only
navy blue boxers. He runs his hand across his
lower stomach, then slowly up over his chest.
He's built like a brick, and before I can even
process what's happening, he drops his pants.
My breath catches. I'm frozen, staring at the
screen without even blinking. Like what you see?
He asks. tapping one side of his earpiece. I
don't answer. Instead, I switch off my camera.
He laughs low and rough. A little shy, aren't
you? I still don't say anything. Then he shifts
his weight, moving one hand over his length,
slow and deliberate. I can hear him breathing,
heavy, controlled, turned on. He's hard, fully
erect. And I hate how much I'm liking what I
see. This is what you do to me, Anji. He breathes.
I don't respond. But he can hear my breath. I
know he can. You watching? I'll stop if you don't
answer. Yes. I say quietly. Good girl. He turns
to the side and shows me everything. His full
length, his profile. the tightness in his butt
cheeks. It's been a long time since I've seen
a man like this. Raw, unfiltered, and unapologetic.
Is this good enough for you? Yes. He smirks and
rubs his thumb over the tip, slow and purposeful,
showing me how wet he is. Then he shifts again,
cock slapping lightly against his thigh with
every sway of his hips. Taunting me. All of this
could be for you, but you don't want to see me.
The screen zooms out slightly, and I realize
I'm rubbing my own tits, squeezing my thighs
under the laptop. Good God. And since you don't
want it, he continues, then someone else shall
have it. That's when she appears. A woman, long
black hair, Naked. Slim body. Nothing like me.
Vince tosses her onto the bed and she yelps playfully.
He slaps her ass. This could be you. He says,
climbing behind her. But you love playing games.
He spits in his hand and strokes his cock. Annoyance
rises. Jealousy too. And something else. Rage.
Watch this The moment he plunges inside her I
hang up fuck him and fuck her too