Page 61 of Riot

“What?” I ask, sliding my hands up my body to squeeze my breasts, claiming my pleasure.

“That. You using me to get off, taking what you want, and claiming your own pleasure. I fucking love it. I could come just from watching you get off. Come for me, Fallon. Come all over me. Use me for it. I’m yours, every inch of me.”

He sits up, turning us so his back is against the seat, our bodies pressed together. The new position drives him deeper, and I clench around him as I cry out.

I kiss him, letting him swallow my sounds of pleasure, and then I start moving for real, using him like he wanted. My desire becomes so thick, I am beyond reason. Everything else flees other than my need to come, and I bounce on him harder, faster, to find what feels good.

Breaking the kiss with a moan, I lean back and slide a hand down my body to grab his on my hip, and then I press his fingers to my clit. “Keep them there,” I order. “Keep pressing there while I fuck you.”

When he doesn’t move, I let go, gripping the seat and moving faster. Each roll of my hips presses my clit into his fingers while he bottoms out inside me. The ecstasy makes me cry out and speed up.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with adoration. “My girl, you are magnificent.”

His dirty words only spur me on, and when he presses his fingers harder against my clit, I climb toward my release.

My head tips back as my hands hit the other seats, desperate to find purchase as I ride him. When he leans closer and bites my nipple through my shirt, I fly.

I cry out his name as I grind down onto his cock, clenching him as I gasp and writhe. Pleasure rolls through me so strong, it steals my breath.

His groan fills the air, and just like he said, he comes from watching me find my pleasure. My eyes widen as I watch him. He presses deeper into my fluttering channel, burying as far as he can as he fills me with his hot cum.

We shake, our bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, the car still rocking slightly from our movements.

Leaning down, I kiss his lips softly as he groans. “Take me home, baby,” I murmur as he jerks inside me, letting me know exactly how much he likes it when I call him that. “I want to play tonight. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Sweetheart, I’d let you carve out my fucking heart, and I’d thank you for it,” he replies, kissing me. “But home it is.”

THIRTY

Alot of people made their names by attending the parties my father held and making connections. Some girls let it destroy them, while others took that pain and used it. They didn’t let it consume them. They made the most of it. They were smart and determined, and I respect that.

One of them is Evelyn. She’s a model, an actress, and everything in between. She works with the UN and runs charities, and she’s a genuinely good person. She was young when I met her, and I only saw her a few times, but she had this way about her. She was a force of fucking nature, and that hasn’t changed. We’ve run into each other a few times over the years, since we run in similar circles, and every time, we just looked at each other, unsure what to say.

I didn’t know if she remembered or didn’t want to, and I’m sure she felt the same. Both of us were too scared to approach one another, but not anymore. I need her, and I have a feeling she needs this too. She fights for women’s rights as a way to get back at those who abused her. She gives women voices, and now I want to give Evelyn’s back to her.

There are so many unspoken words in this industry—not just at the parties my father held. It’s normal for young, up-and-coming girls to have to pay the “price,” as they call it. We know it too well, but none of us speak about it out of fear. Well, fuck that.

I’m taking this back, and I want her by my side, but I understand if she can’t. I’m unsure and nervous, but either way, I knock back my drink and head over to her table, leaving Kage at ours. The bar we are in is upscale and filled with rich and famous people, so there are no cameras or prying eyes. She’s sitting alone, nursing a cocktail, oblivious to everything and looking as stunning as ever.

She’s wearing a sleek black dress that hugs her willowy frame, and her blonde hair is in a tight ponytail, her makeup expertly applied. Diamonds dangle from her ears and on her fingers. She’s an intimidating woman to approach, but when I stop at her table, I see the emotions in her gaze before she blinks and looks at me.

“Fallon?” she asks softly.

“Can I sit?”

She nods, watching me with confusion. We have barely spoken in years, so when I slide into the chair opposite her, we both just drink each other in. We are survivors, and we know it.

“Need another?” I nod at her drink, and she looks down at it, a sad smile curving her lips.

She pushes the glass around, and then I realize it’s full. “I don’t drink anymore,” she says. “Too many bad memories. I used to like the way it numbed me so I forgot, but then the nightmares were still there when it wore off, and I was shaky and alone and hurting, so I stopped. I realized I could run all I wanted, but they would still chase me. It’s better to confront it.” She looks at me. “Humans can’t live with an open wound, and the sharks smell the blood in the water.”

Isn’t that the truth?

“That’s why I’m here,” I tell her, and she jerks her head up. “I’m ready to stop running, and I’m hoping you are too.”

Her eyes drop to her drink for a moment before she pushes it away and delicately folds her hands on the table. “Are you sure?” she asks, still speaking in code.

“I’ve never been surer. They took my childhood,” I reply. “They don’t get my life, and the longer I live with this secret, the longer they win. It started as revenge, but as I move forward, I’m realizing it’s so much more than that. It’s about protecting those who come after us. It’s about giving strength back to those who survived and voices to those who did not. It’s about the truth, and it’s about us. I’m hoping you will stand with me, but I understand if you can’t. There are others willing to step forward, so don’t feel like you have to, but I had to ask.”

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