Page 81 of King

“What?” Lea's hands move to her hips as she looks around my face. “Are you high? Do you have nothing to say?”

Damien moves his fingers quicker, my eyes landing on the bulbs in the ceiling. I should tell him to stop and move his hand but I don’t. It feels too good. I try to push my words out but all that escapes my lips is, “N-Nothing.”

She slams on the table. "You can't sit with us, Medusa!”

Damien puts more pressure on my soaking pearl and it's harder to say what I want. He knows how to move those digits just right, how to get me to squirm in my seat.

I try anyway, his movements making it damn-near impossible. “It’s…” His pace quickens and I’m gripping to the edge of my seat. I reach for that bulge but he stops me, applying more pressure to my throbbing clit. Lea makes a face and I try to keep my eyes open. When I look at Damien, he gives me that sexy smirk, as if he knows where his fingers are taking me. And fuck, I roll right over the edge, screaming my own name, “Jo!”

My voice is louder than I expect, gasping for air like I've been holding my breath the entire time. Lea raises both eyebrows, her head jerking back. Damien slides his fingers from my legs, wiping them on my thigh.

“Alright, we get it. Relax,” Isaac whines, swirling a piece of spinach in cheese. He has two fingers on his temple. “Some of us have a hangover."

“Ugh.” Lea slumps in her seat. “Whatever, freak.”

Damien unleashes my leg and I slap his thigh but he rests his jaw on his palm, a satisfied smirk on his face. He puts his fingers in his mouth, leaving them hanging off his lips and no one seems to know what just happened. I guess Damien King bringing me to an orgasm in the middle of the cafeteria is better than lashing out at Lea Huang again. She looks bothered by my limited answers, so whatever Damien's plan was, it worked.

“Georgey.” Lea turns to her friend, flipping her hair. “Study session at MOCHA? We can gawk at the help.”

I give her a cheeky smile. “I’m not working tonight, sorry.”

She sneers, “Well even better.”

“I’m feeling a party.” Damien puts an arm around me, his grip tight like I'm his property to claim. "Georgina, is the Rooftop Suite at The Palace free tonight?”

Georgina sits up like she popped a caffeine pill. She wiggles her phone in her hand. “I make a few calls and it can be.”

“You should have some friends over.” He turns to me, eyes wandering my eyes to my lips. “If you’re up for it.”

Well look at that, Damien King is inviting me to an elite party, in front of everyone, and all I can say is, “Okay.” God, what is he doing to me?

Georgina squeals, “Great! We haven’t had a rooftop shindig in so long!”

Damien smiles at Lea. “Enjoy your study session,” he says.

Lea and Damien glare at each other for what seems like forever before she lets out a sound like a pterodactyl. Her face is tomato red when she jumps up from her seat. “C’mon Georgina, this table just got stale.”

“Umm—” Georgina glances towards Lea then back to me and Damien. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turns to Lea. “I need to prep for the party.”

Lea looks like she got a lump of coal for Christmas before her lips tighten. She doesn’t say a word but her shoulders look stiff as hell when she storms away and out of the cafeteria.

Whispers and murmurs erupt around us but I can't make out a thing.

“So Jo.” Georgina looks at me, taking a pen and pad out of her Louis Vuitton tote. I’m surprised she knows my actual name and when I glance at Damien, he’s on his phone. “You can help me plan. Should we get champagne or rose?”

Willow texts me that she’s hanging with her friends after school.

I’d be jealous if I didn’t have Georgina’s party to attend.

The Rooftop Suite is not what I expect but I’m more surprised I’m still in awe of Eden. The hotel is five-star. A tall, glassy building with pink and blue lights at the front. The valet, doorman and ladies at the check-in all greet Damien like he’s an established businessman. Not one smile comes my way.

On the ride to the top floor, Damien's chuckling about Lea's face in the cafeteria, his hand in place on the small of my back. I’m wearing a dress swiped from Nancy’s closet. A little black number. Spaghetti straps, slit to the thigh with the tag tucked in at the top. It’s a little tight but I figured it’s a safe bet with my hair piled high. Shaved side on display.

"What if they saw?" I cringe. I don't remember being that subtle.

"Saw what?" He smirks, hand lowering, finger running along the outline of my ass. "Saw you come all over my fingers in front of Georgina’ss salad?"

There's a tingle in my legs at the memory and when I look at him, the feeling only intensifies. Damien still looks like he should be on the cover of GQ. Even dressed down in a grey fitted sweater, dark jeans and leather loafers. Despite his usual dishevelled demeanour, his expensive clothes help pull him together.

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