Page 82 of Riot Act
“I mean, it’s not like it’s a difficult question.IsMercy Jacobi a student at your tiny, redneck school for illiterate morons or not?” Damiana Lozano slumps down next to us in a cloud of Marc Jacobs perfume, her long blonde hair arranged on top of her head in a braid crown. She mutters something under her breath as she yanks her purse into her lap and hunts around inside it for something. She pulls out a tube of lip gloss and begins applying it.
“What the hell, Dami?” I am going to deadassmurderher.
She looks up at me, finally, pulling a bored face. “What? You can’t tell me you haven’t wondered where she went, asshole.”
My hand’s still hidden under Chase’s skirt. I dig my fingers into her thigh, silently warning her not to move. “Thefuckare you talking about?”
“Mercy!” Damiana looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Your roommate’s twin sister? Have you forgotten all about her?”
“Yes! I fucking have!” Mercy Jacobi is an asshole—a creature I tolerated because she came with Wren as part of the Jacobi package. She’s flitted in and out of our lives more times than I can count since I moved into Riot House. I was far from surprised when she disappeared after Mara’s death, deciding to finish up her high school career elsewhere.
Damiana gives an unpleasant, tight smile to Chase. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the compromising position we’re in right now. She thinks Chase is just randomly straddling me. Forgivable, I guess, since we are both fully clothed. “You knew Mercy a little, didn’t you?” Damiana says. “Have you heard from her?”
“Ahhh! I—” Chase closes her eyes. Composes herself. “Uhh, I didn’t know her that well at all actually. She wouldn’t call me.”
“Great.” Dami rolls her eyes. “Why is everyone so socially inept around here?”
An evil, evil thought occurs to me, watching Chase struggle to marshal herself. Should I? It’d be really fucking cruel, and will probably end in disaster, but I don’t really care at this point. I slide my hand up the inside of Chase’s thigh again, locating her clit in one smooth movement that Damiana definitely doesn’t notice. “Why fucking bother?” I say. On top of me, Chase’s eyes are the size of silver dollars. She glares at me so hard, I want to burst out laughing.
“What’s that supposed to mean,why fucking bother?”Dami gripes. “She’s my friend. Of course I’m going to bother. If I’ve learned anything from this whole Mara Bancroft debacle, it’s that we all need to take better care of each other. People can’t just go disappearing off anymore. We can’t let that stand. Mercy could be dead, too. She could—”
“If she actually was your friend, she would have told you where she was going,” I say. I’m amazed I get the words out in a calm voice. I’m circling Chase’s clit, applying a decent amount of pressure, not moving enough for my actions to be obvious to the blonde viper sitting three feet away…but they’re definitely obvious to Chase. Chase, who clenches her jaw, digging her fingers into my chest again, giving me a warning of her own. One I promptly ignore.
“You’re such a bastard, you know that? Mercy and Iwereclose. I don’t give a shit what you say.”
“Bullshit.” I huff out a sharp breath when Chase tightens around me, her pussy gripping at my dick. I’d have expected to lose my erection, but nope. It’s still raging hard and only getting harder as I watch Chase’s eyes glaze over. She looks so fucking beautiful, so dazed and turned on, her breath coming in quicker and quicker, that it’s no wonder I haven’t gone soft.
“If Mercy and I weren’t friends, then how do you explain this?” Damiana leans over me, shoving her cleavage in my face as she shows me the gaudy gold necklace hanging around her neck. It’s one half of a heart. On it, the letters ST END have been engraved. The other half of the heart, which Damiana clearly believes is hanging around Wren’s sister’s neck, must have the BE FRI part etched into it.
I quicken the pace, rubbing Chase’s clit a little faster. She can do nothing but sit still and take it. Not if she wants our situation to remain a secret. She spasms arounds me again, though, her pussy clenching around me, massaging me from the inside, and my eyes nearly roll back into my head. She’s so fucking tight.
“Christ, how old are you? You’re such a child, Dami,” I mutter.
If Chase keeps doing that…
I must have a look on my face. My nostrils must have flared, or my pupils must have blown. Whatever. I’ve done something to clue Chase into how good her clenching around me feels, because she does it again, tighter this time, for longer, with a knowing look on her face. Atwo-can-play-this-gamelook that spells disaster for me. I have to fight back the urge to spin her around and throw her into the grass so I can fuck the living shit out of her as punishment for her insolence.
“God.” Dami grimaces, looking from me to Chase and back again, as if she’s suddenly realized who she’s sitting with. “Since when haveyou twobeen a thing, anyway?”
“We’re not a thing,” Chase says breathlessly. “We’re just…hanging out.”
“Oh, totally. I can see that. I always sit cowgirl the guys I hang out with, too.” Sarcasm drips from her every word.
I speed up even more, switching between the small circles and rubbing up and down over Chase’s clit. She’s so fucking wet now, I can feel her slick heat all over my lower belly. She jerks, gasps—and tries to cover both with a sneeze that even Damiana spots as fake a mile off.
Dami narrows her eyes at Chase. “You are so weird, Presley.”
I develop a shit-eating grin. “She hasallergies.”
Chase does not look impressed. She looks vengeful, in fact. Leaning her weight back, she angles her hips forward, giving me better access to her. From Dami’s perspective, it probably looks like she’s just shifting her weight, getting comfortable, but I know the truth of it. She’s telling me to have at it and do my worst… because she’s about to do the same. I have to bite the inside of my cheek when she tenses the first time. The second time she does it, I bite so hard I taste blood.
Fuck.
Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed.
“You’re both fucking weird. I’ve never seen you even so much as look twice at a Wolf Hall girl, and now you’re out here, canoodling withthis one?”
I glance over at Dami sharply, venom rising up the back of my throat. I’m gonna remember that nasty, snide little remark. “Give me eight separate examples of your friendship with Mercy Jacobi and I’ll tell you exactly where she is,” I say.
