Page 83 of Riot Act

“Yeah, right. Likeyouknow where she is.”

“I live with her brother. She calls him all the time. Of course I fucking know where she is.”

Dami doesn’t question the weirdness of my request. She isn’t exactly Wolf Hall’s deepest thinker. I’m a little astonished when she actually starts to rattle off examples of her friendship with Mercy, though. “Okay. Well, first things first, there was the time Mercy and I were flirting with the same guy at an Edmondson party, and we decided the only fair thing to do would be for the both of us to take him home. I—”

Fucking no chance whatsoever that I want to hearthatstory. I tune Damiana out, focusing all of my attention on Chase. She’s stunning, washed in the afternoon sunlight. Her pale skin is cast with a warm glow. Her cheeks are the color of rose petals, for god’s sake. She looks like a painting of some kind. One of those elegant, slightly diffused romantic pieces from the turn of the last century. Out of nowhere, I realize that she looks like the woman from Gustaz Klimt’s ‘The Kiss,’ dripping in gold.

She’s fucking beautiful.

And she’s about to come all over my cock. I can tell. I canfeelhow close she is. She has her facial expression under tight control now, but I can see how close she is in her eyes, too, and that alone is enough to drag me closer toward my own orgasm.

She can’t help herself. She jerks against me as it starts, her hips rocking once, twice, before she manages to stop herself. Her eyes snap closed. Her head falls to one side and down, away from Damiana. Her jaw clenches. Her hands fist the front of my t-shirt, and I feel the rolling wave of her orgasm as her pussy tightens around my dick like a fist.

Holy…fucking…SHIT.

I start to spill inside her like some fucking fourteen-year-old who can’t control his shit.

I can’t control my shit, though.

I fucking can’t.

My ears roar. My blood pounds through my veins. It takes a monumental effort of will, but I keep my eyes open. I watch her, unable to look away, unable to save myself from the weird, dramatic sensation of falling as I witness her silently coming apart on top of me.

She’s breathtaking.

“And you can’t tell me you’re not friends with a girl after you’ve sucked a dick that was inside her pussy three seconds earlier. That’s the verydefinitionof friendship.” The sound of Damiana’s grating voice hits my ears again, and my annoyance peaks.

“Washington State,” I growl.

Chase’s eyes gently flutter open.

“What?” Dami says.

“Washington fucking State. Some small town. Raleigh or some shit. That’s where Mercy is. Now for the love of God, please fuck off and leave us alone.”

Slowly, Chase turns back to look at me, skin flushed, eyes bright, a look of small wonder on her face. She knows I just came inside of her. She felt me, just like I felt her.

“Never heard of it,” Dami says. She rustles next to me, gathering up her shit, but I don’t even look at her as she gets to her feet. Neither does Chase. We’re so fixed on each other that neither of us are seeing much of anything else at all.

Damiana lets out a little peevedhmph, and then says, “Well. Just for the record. I don’t really see this working out for you two. You’re not exactly sane, Davis.”

“I swear to god, I will fucking end you if you don’t piss off,” I snarl.

She goes, grumbling bitterly. For a second, Chase and I stay exactly where we are, still watching each other guardedly. Then she climbs off me, blushing like mad as she presses her thighs together, presumably attempting to keep the come I just shot inside of her from running down her legs.

I put my dick away and fasten my jeans back up probably a little slower than I should.

“That…that was…” Chase whispers.

I reach behind my head and tug my t-shirt off in with one hand. “Here.” Before she can stop me, I shove the balled-up shirt between her legs, pressing it firmly against her pussy. She must still be really fucking sensitive because she hisses, her eyes losing a little of their focus.

“Push me out,” I order. “All of me. Let me clean you.”

Her shoulders hitch up around her ears. She looks around, the reality of what just happened hitting her hard, I think. She takes the t-shirt from me and uses it herself, quickly, methodically, and I watch her with my pulse churning in my ears.

I want…fuck, I want more.

What the fuck is going on with me right now?