He wouldn't look away even as I used his clothes to wipe myself. He blatantly stared, with no intention to avert his gaze, clearly. Extremely self-conscious and red-faced, my hand trembled as I began to wipe myself. Wiping down after a shower was something I'd done since I was old enough to shower by myself, and yet the once automatic action felt now like I was figuring out a quantum physics equation. My muscle memory didn't seem to remember how I'd done it before as I began to wipe my face and neck, then halfway through remembered that I started with my chest first and so I moved to wipe it. Accidentally, my hand traveled farther into my nether region. 

Schneider's eyes followed my hand with unwavering attention, and my spine trembled when his eyes zeroed in on my exposed cock as I fondled it with his clothes.

I would have been offended and demanded he look away, but that would have made me a major hypocrite. Only moments ago I'd been the one gawking shamelessly at his impressive, impressive junk. 

While a sane person would have immediately turned away and given him their back, the only thing I seemed able to move was my hand. So, I pretended to not care instead, feigning a confidence and unconcern that I did not feel at all.  

There was a sense of… eroticism drying myself with Schneider’s clothes. These were the clothes he’d sweat in, filled with his musky scent. While wiping my face, I’d inhaled him into me; leather, musk and a hint of patchouli had permeated my senses like a perfume. It was good. He smelled good. 

My cock twitched. 

Horror bulged my eyes. I quickly hid my rousing dick behind the makeshift towel, pretending to be busy wiping it. But it was too late. 

Schneider had noticed. 

My heart stuttered. 

He took a step toward me and the breath hitched in my throat. His eyes. My God, his eyes. They burned with an emotion so powerful, it left me speechless even as my mind sounded the red alarm.

Run! Escape! Get out of here! The voice of reason begged me, practically teary-eyed and screaming. It repeated to me all the things I already knew: that he was a mafia boss and a murderer.  

But how could I escape when Schneider was looking at me like that? When some mischievous entity inside my mind was doing its damndest to remind me of our kiss, and how perfect his lips were smashed against mine…

My eyes dropped to his lips. Molten heat speared through me. 

No! 

That was all the invitation Schneider needed. 

He backed me into the stall and slammed both his hands against the wall on either side of my head, effectively trapping me. I let out a tiny gasp and looked up into his eyes, and then I couldn't look away.  

That same powerful emotion from before burned even brighter now, like a raging sun. It both thrilled and terrified me. 

I tightly gripped the makeshift towel between us like a shield, as if it would protect me from him. His face was so close to mine that I could see the yellow specs in his pewter gray eyes. I couldn’t look away for the life of me. The word ‘captivating’ came to mind while looking into his penetrating eyes. How could someone be so utterly flawless, the definition of perfection? 

We were both still very much naked, our balls out and everything. I should have been panicking and screaming, demanding that he step away from me, but I was unusually silent. I couldn’t push the words out of my mouth for some strange reason. 

Schneider leaned in for the kiss and I held my breath, eagerly waiting for contact… 

… that never came. 

Schneider froze and abruptly straightened, snapping me back to reality. It was a rude awakening to say the least; the voice of reason had somehow been dulled out by Schneider’s closeness, but it was now back to full volume, blaring louder than rock music through mega speakers. 

Heat nearly seared my cheeks right off the bone. 

Schneider was looking at the door. “You better turn around and head out if you know what’s good for you,” he said in a cold, dangerous tone that instantly cooled me. It was his mafia boss voice for sure, and I instantly understood how this inmate commanded even the guards in a prison. Who the hell dared to disobey a voice like that? 

I looked where he was looking to see someone standing just outside the shower’s entrance. 

“Boss?” A scared voice called into the showers. 

“What?” Schneider growled, clearly angered by the interruption. 

I was startled to realize that so was the mischievous part of me. 

“T-There’s been an… incident.” The scared voice explained the reason for his presence. Even without fully seeing him, I could tell that he was shaking in his shoes. 

“Again?” Schneider’s eyebrows knitted together in a deep scowl. God help the person responsible for putting that frown on his face. 

“Yeah, and it’s bad. The guards are riled up again. They’re threatening retribution.” 

Schneider closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then said emphatically, “Fuck.” He pulled away and his heat left me. 

“Hurry up and dress. I’ll take you back to the cell,” he said. 

I did as I was told. 

The chance to escape had come, delivered to me as if by divine intervention. Yet why wasn’t I even a little bit thrilled?