Chapter 5 – Locked In
1420 Words
Jack’s pace didn’t change, but his focus did. His gaze moved quickly ahead, then to the side, and then briefly behind them—not searching, but calculating.
The corridor wasn’t holding. The flow of bodies had shifted, compressing too tightly in one direction, and the noise from the riot was pushing forward with it.
A collision was coming.
His grip tightened slightly on Liv’s arm as he adjusted their path without slowing.
“Stay close.”
His voice was low, controlled, but sharper now.
Liv didn’t question it. She felt the change before she understood it. The hallway ahead tightened, bodies spilling into view in uneven bursts—an inmate shoved forward, another breaking loose, a guard shouting something that didn’t quite reach them.
It was too close. Too crowded. No clean way through.
Jack made the decision instantly. He pulled her sharply to the side, guiding her with a firm hand that didn’t leave room for hesitation.
“There.”
Liv barely caught sight of it—a narrow cabinet built into the wall, easy to miss unless you were looking for it.
He was already moving.
The door opened in one quick, controlled motion.
“Inside.”
She hesitated for half a second. The space was too small, too enclosed, but the crash of bodies just behind them erased any doubt.
Jack pulled her in with him and shut the door.
Darkness settled around them immediately. Not silence—never silence—but a contained kind of noise. Voices lingered just outside, close enough to feel, the scrape of boots and metal making it clear no one was leaving anytime soon.
Liv barely had time to adjust before his hand closed around her waist, making her gasp.
Firm and immediate.
He guided her back until her spine met the wall, steadying her without hesitation. At the same time, he stepped forward into the cramped space, his leg sliding between hers as he adjusted to fit.
There was no room to shift.
His thigh settled between her legs, solid and unyielding, forcing them slightly apart as he positioned himself in front of her. The confined space made it impossible to step away, impossible to create distance.
Liv inhaled sharply, her breath catching high in her chest.
He leaned down slightly, his height forcing the angle. The lower part of his chest pressed into her, uneven but constant, enough to make her aware of every point of contact.
Her face turned instinctively, bringing her too close to his neck.
Close enough that her breath brushed his skin.
“Don’t move.”
His voice was low, steady, close enough that she felt it more than heard it.
Outside, footsteps shifted again. Voices dropped. Something scraped harshly against the floor.
They weren’t leaving.
Jack’s hand remained at her waist, steady and deliberate, holding her exactly where she was. The limited space forced him closer, and his thigh pressed more firmly between hers.
Liv felt it immediately. Teasing her. Shocking her.
Her legs tensed before she could stop them, closing slightly around the pressure as if trying to steady herself. Her breath caught again, sharper this time. Releasing a light moan she tried to suppress.
The contact didn’t change. It stayed constant, grounding in a way that made everything else feel unstable by comparison.
Every breath she took pressed her more into him.
Her hands came up without thinking. One found his forearm, fingers wrapping around it instinctively. The other pressed against his chest, just below his collarbone.
Up close, he felt different than he looked.
Not just solid, but controlled in a way she couldn’t explain.
Her palm flattened slightly, feeling the heat beneath the fabric, the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Each breath brought him into her again, the contact repeating, unavoidable.
Her fingers tightened.
The air inside the cabinet grew warmer by the second, thick and unmoving, pressing against her skin until her clothes began to cling.
It made her aware of herself in a way she didn’t want to be.
And then she noticed his scent.
Warm. Faintly metallic. Something deeper beneath it, something steady.
Her breathing slowed, but it didn’t settle.
“It’s too hot…” she whispered.
Jack exhaled slowly, his breath brushing against her temple as he caught the soft, sweet trace of her scent.
“Then fix it.”
The words were quiet, controlled.
Her stomach tightened at the tone more than the instruction, a subtle, unfamiliar sensation stirring low between her thighs.
For a second, she hesitated, then her hands moved to her top. Her fingers found the buttons, loosening one, then another. Her movements were slower than usual, more deliberate, her awareness split between what she was doing and how close he was.
Cool air touched her skin, but the relief didn’t last.
Because now she could feel more of him.
Jack adjusted slightly, not away but closer. His chest pressed more firmly into her, the contact more direct. His thigh didn’t move.
“Help me with mine.”
His voice didn’t change, but there was something in it—firm, with a quiet hint of teasing beneath the control.
Liv’s breath caught again.
Her hands moved to his uniform. She fumbled at first, her focus slipping as her fingers brushed his chest through the fabric. Warm. Solid.
She swallowed and forced herself to concentrate.
One button came loose. Then another.
Each movement brought her closer. Her body pressed into his, her hand following the steady rhythm of his breathing.
And his leg, still fixed between hers, kept everything in place.
Jack didn’t move away. He didn’t rush her. He stayed exactly where he was, letting her finish.
When the last button came free, he removed the shirt in one smooth motion. His arm brushed along her side as he did, controlled, unhurried.
There was less between them now.
When he leaned back, his bare chest met hers again—warmer this time, slightly damp.
Liv’s breath broke, her lips parting as a faint, involuntary sound slipped past them. Her hands were still on him. One held his forearm. The other rested against his chest, her palm now directly against his skin.
She didn’t pull away.
Her fingers pressed slightly without her meaning to.
Her thighs tightened again around his leg, her body reacting in small, involuntary ways she couldn’t control. Her hips shifted just enough to drag against him.
The movement was subtle.
But she felt it.
The angle threw her off balance. Her knees softened, her weight dropping before she could stop it, her body settling lower until she was pressed against him, the contact no longer avoidable.
Something about the position made her go still.
Her hands against his chest. His body framing hers.
Too close. Too familiar.
Her breath caught, sharper now.
The warmth between her thighs deepened, sharpened by the pressure, by the way her body had been forced into place. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t feel like this, and yet her body reacted as if it did, as if it already understood something she didn’t.
A soft sound slipped from her again before she could stop it.
She froze immediately.
But it was too late.
Her body had already responded.
For a moment, she couldn’t move. Pulling away felt just as impossible as staying.
And he noticed.
Not just the shift in her body, but the way she held there; caught between hesitation and something else she clearly didn’t understand.
His hand remained at her waist, steady, but his grip tightened slightly.
His gaze dropped briefly, taking in more than he should have—her loosened top, the flush of her skin, the way her lips parted with uneven breaths. Then her hands, still resting on him, not pushing away.
That was what held his attention.
Not just how she looked, but how unaware she was of what she was doing.
His jaw tightened. He was getting hard. But he forced his gaze back up, control settling in again, deliberate and contained.
He didn’t move her nor stepped back. But he didn’t let it go any further either. His grip stayed firm at her waist, holding her exactly where she was.
In the darkness, she felt his attention settle on her.
Not searching nor uncertain. Just… there.
Outside, the voices didn’t fade. They stayed close. Which meant neither of them could move.
Inside the cabinet, the heat continued to build.
Their breathing slowed.
But it never quite steadied.
And neither of them pulled away.
- Writer
