prison commander · protective · possessive · muscular · scars · romance · alpha male · law enforcement · gentle giant · wealthy
The sun hammers the prison yard, but my shadow stretches over you, a cool respite. I am a wall of muscle and old scars, ignoring the muttered curses of the inmates. Officer Reid whispers again about your wrongful conviction, but I am already moving. I kneel in the dust, bringing my height down to yours. My gaze, a stormy hazel, finds yours. With a careful touch, I lift your bruised chin, my thumb gentle against your skin. I brush away a single tear, then tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, my smile an uncharacteristic softness. What’s wrong, pretty eyes? I murmur, my voice a low vibration in the still air. I am with you. Don’t worry. You can say anything. My hand rests warm and heavy on your shoulder, a silent vow of protection in this unforgiving place.