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Somebody Else's Sky (Something in the Way #2)(4)

By:Jessica Hawkins

"What's wrong with my outfit?" she asked. "You don't like it?"

"You look good." Today, her white t-shirt was tight enough that I could see the outline of her bra. It was definitely padded, her tits big and round, inviting my hands to curve around them, my cock to slide between them. I licked my lips. "Too good."

"Well, I won't apologize for that."

The clock behind my head ticked on, a reminder that time was limited. I forced my eyes back to the contraband in front of me. Nothing killed the threat of a boner like a musty dictionary. "You know you can bring stamps in, right?" I teased her. "Don't need to get all cagey about it."

"It's more fun this way. Speaking of fun." She slipped a Playboy from the bottom of the pile. I was one of the lucky bastards whose girlfriend brought him porn and probably the only guy who didn't care about it.

I took the magazine. A naked blonde I recognized from MTV looked back at me from the cover. Her knowing blue eyes and smile-smirk were familiar. "She looks a little like you," I said. "Maybe in a few years." 

She vaulted forward to see better as I checked for the centerfold. "Jenny McCarthy?" she asked. "I think her boobs are fake. Do you like that?"

"No." I closed it. "Thanks, but I told you, I don't read these."

"And I told you, I don't believe you. But if that's true, just trade it for whatever you need. But," she lowered her voice to a breathy whisper, "not before you check pages eighteen and nineteen. Don't trade it until you do that."

"What'll I find on pages eighteen and nineteen?" I asked, watching her fingers twist her hair into one, big golden curl.

She smiled with her lips closed, like she had a secret, and I knew what I'd find on pages eighteen and nineteen-or more like stuck between them. The female correctional officer on duty, Jameson, was all right, so I peeked inside at two Polaroids of Tiffany in black lingerie. As I followed the lines of her curves, my balls tightened. This, the possibility of one day having it, got me off way more than glossy chicks I didn't know. "Who took these?"

"Sarah. She did it for her boyfriend, too."

"You know CO Ludwig might 'confiscate these,'" I said. He'd cleaned me out of cigarettes, porno, and chewing tobacco during the last shakedown, and that fucker would delight in violating any inmate by taking his girl's photos.

"So you'll have them until he does." She shrugged. "He's pathetic. That fat idiot has to take them because unlike you, he has nobody to give him any."

I didn't like the idea of it, but Tiffany took it in stride. She knew how little control I had in here. I didn't know many girls who wouldn't freak out about a "fat idiot" drooling over their photo. Behind the Polaroids, she'd folded up a page torn from a magazine. I opened it. Tiffany smiled brightly on the page in khakis and a navy polo, her arms crossed as she leaned her shoulder against a man wearing the same outfit.

"My second catalogue," she said. "It's for this company that sells uniforms. I know the clothing is hideous, but I wanted you to see-"

"I don't care what you're wearing." I smoothed out the creases. "You look happy. Even prettier than Jenny what's-her-name."

She nudged my leg with her foot. "Thank you."

"Any more news from that agent lady?"

Her blue eyes lit up. "I have a go-see for a swimsuit company this weekend. My agent thinks I'll get it. They're looking for a beach babe."

"You're a beach babe if I ever saw one."

"I need this job, Manning. I can't wait to quit Nordstrom. My manager has been so obnoxious this week. She made me vacuum the fitting rooms twice in one day. As if anyone could tell the difference."

Outside this space, I would've stopped her there. I couldn't fake interest in overpriced clothing, the women Tiffany constantly had to compliment, or sales floor brawls over commission. But my life was about routines now, and this was part of ours. Hearing about her day-to-day life, it wasn't much, but it was something I looked forward to anyway.

Tiffany'd gotten a modeling agent after I'd been locked up, and almost right away, she'd been in a catalogue. Paid pretty well, too, though she'd blown most of the money already. "It's just temporary," I reminded her.

"I know. I'll feel better after I pick up my paycheck." She put her hands in her lap. "Which is something I wanted to talk about. I've been thinking."


"Yeah?" I sat back in my seat. "What about?"