Free Love and Law by K Webster Page A

desk, I find my T-shirt and panties and quickly dress. I slip out of the room, and much to my disappointment, Ben appears to already be gone. When I walk down to the end of the hallway past our dorm room, I locate the stairs and quietly climb up one floor. Once upstairs, I go straight for the door on the left. It’s locked, so I make my way over into the bathroom to look for something I can use to break it open. A plastic, moveable storage bin sits right next to the shower, so I head over to it. I rifle through the first two drawers before I find what I’m looking for in the third—bobby pins.
    Climbing back to my feet, I ignore the soreness between my legs from having just been fucked and make my way back to the locked door. It doesn’t take long for me to pick the lock and open the door. Flicking on the light, I look around and take in my surroundings. The walls are lined with seven medium-sized safes. What are in those safes? Guns? Drugs? Money?
    Each one has a numbered keypad, and I know I’ll never figure out the codes. I need to call Miguel and let him know my findings, but calling him again tonight might be pushing it. Instead, I turn off the light and lock the door. I’m just pulling the door closed behind me when I see Tameka watching me with interest, trying to look beyond the door that I quickly shut. For some reason, I feel the need to protect what’s Ben’s from her crazy ass.
    “I knew you were a shady bitch,” she mutters under her breath and turns to walk away.
    Thinking of Ben, I bite my lip to keep the slew of cuss words I want to say to her safely in my mouth. He didn’t want me to fight with her, and I’ll try my damnedest not to.
    Moments later, when I’m letting the hot water run down my back and shoulders, I try to figure out how I’ll get myself out of this situation. I like Ben. A lot. But what we have is an unacceptable relationship. Why is it that I can think clearly when I’m away from him? What would Miguel think about me fucking this drug dealer? He’d hate the very idea of it—and probably me too. What would Sommerhaul do if he knew? He’d fire my ass on the spot and I’d probably earn myself some fines or jail time. Shit, this is bad. I need to hurry and find the leader of this cell, gather my evidence, and get the fuck out before I do more damage than good.
    But when I think about Ben’s hard body pressed against mine, pushing his thick cock inside me, I’m overcome with desire. I want him. Bad. So bad that I slide my wet hand down to my pussy and begin stroking myself.
    My feelings for Ben are clouding my judgment and blurring my normally clear lines of right and wrong. And that’s the last thought I have before I once again imagine Ben’s sexy self and succumb to my final orgasm of the night.

 
     

     
     
    I’VE NEVER KILLED A MAN. It’s not in my genetic makeup to ever desire to do so. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not dangerous. I’ve beaten plenty of assholes to within an inch of their lives. And every single one of them deserved it.
    One idiot straight-up stole money from Oculus. He sold the drugs and then attempted to disappear. Oculus told me to “take care of it.” Deep down, I think he knows that I would never kill someone, and he never has put me in the position to do so. But I did take care of it. CJ and I found the fucker, beat his ass, and took his two-hundred-dollar pair of kicks for restitution. They just so happened to be CJ’s size, so he gave Oculus the money the guy owed and proudly strutted around in those fucking sneakers until the soles wore out.
    “He’s so fucking pissed,” CJ murmurs, stating the obvious.
    And he should be. Blaze is fucking with his territory. His business. It won’t end well—for Blaze, that is. I ignore CJ’s comment and stomp up the stairs to Oculus’s office. We keep the ‘management’ side of things separate from the ‘operations’ side of the business, so his office resides several blocks down from