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The showers are deserted except for you and Astankova. At peak times the women chat to each other while they bathe, but now the room is silent except for the sound of water hitting the shower floor. It sounds strange. Eerie.
You can’t take your eyes off Astankova, even though staring can get you killed in this place. Water flows over her flawless skin. Although she’s been in prison for months – since before your arrival – her skin maintains a golden glow. Her muscular back faces you, and you think about running your hands up and down it, maybe cupping her arse. Her skin would be smooth, you decide. Warmth spreads between your legs as you imagine pressing up against her from behind and reaching around her to squeeze her breasts.
She turns around then, and you blush and concentrate on rinsing the shampoo out of your chin-length hair. Has she caught you staring at her naked body? A dangerous flash of her eyes answers yes. You gulp, not sure how Astankova likes to exact punishment – you don’t even know her first name – but then she smiles at you and slides one hand between her legs.
It’s shock that makes your eyes widen, not arousal, you tell yourself. She lets out a tiny moan as she gets herself off. The heat between your own legs intensifies, and you press your thighs together.
She smirks at you. “You like what you see.” It’s a statement, not a question.
You nod, though your cheeks burn. You’ve never done anything like this before, not with a man nor a woman, but her bright eyes, staring right at you, are so intense that you can’t stop now. You push your hair, which is so wet it looks black, out of your face. When she jerks her head, you turn off the shower and come to her.
Afterwards, you learn that she’s called Oksana. It will become a name you love to say, and then a name you hate.