Chapter 36

I am hopelessly, shamefully caught. My body, hating me for being stuck here, awaits Syd’s lips.

A girl wearing a Riot Dykes T-shirt passes us, unfazed by our would-be orgy, and calls, “Meeting upstairs in five!” Like flipping a switch, Layla and Syd release me from the vise of their bodies, their pleasures forgotten or perhaps achieved—I’m too disoriented to know for sure, really—and begin working: Syd immediately rounds up a crew to lead them upstairs.

Now’s your chance to get the hell out of here, I think. But before I can act, Layla catches on. She puts her hands on my shoulders, gripping hard and pushing me forward.

“Ow…no…Layla…” I stammer, trying to writhe out of Layla’s grip.

“Oh, hell no,” Layla growls.

She grips harder, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she resists my movements. I glance over my shoulder at her, my eyes wild, in a desperate attempt to plead silently with her.

“Nope. You’re coming with us,” she says grimly.