Chapter 10: The Clue Posse

“I can’t believe he hung up on me. Me!” Mercedes griped, rounding the northwest corner of the mansion. ‘I’m going to strangle him!”

“Elliot would never do that. Maybe his phone cut out,” Kayla said, defending her neighbor. “And don’t hurt him.”

“Your chauffeur buddy better hope it’s only a kick to the ass,” the redhead grumbled.

“Keever does seem intimidated by Cede,” Brielle pointed out.

“Not like Graham,” Kayla responded.

“Maybe he didn’t want to deliver any more bad news,” the busty blonde added.

None of the points mattered to Mercedes. She’d just been denied entry into her own home, which enraged the spoiled heiress. At Kayla’s urging, Brielle dragged their friend away from the apologetic guard and suggested they head to the veranda, where Elliot might be.

On the west side of the mansion, the trio found several small groups milling around as two spotlights illuminated the area. One came from the roof of the garage, above the security center, while the other, smaller light sat on the far stone wall. The second complaint they heard was about the brightness; the first was about the disrespect of being searched.

Intending to force her way inside to see her father, Mercedes changed course when she noticed the theft victim. The ginger-haired Marie Antoinette changed directions so swiftly that Brielle rolled an ankle when she attempted to mimic the move. Bitching, the blonde needed Kayla’s support to catch up to their friend. They arrived in time to find Mercedes hugging Francesca Horne.

“You weren’t the only victim tonight, Aunt Franny. I’ve been robbed as well,” the redhead informed her unofficial godmother.

“You were, dear?” Avalon Ashmore responded, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

Mercedes launched into a whiny recount of getting hoisted into the air before the Mummy absconded with her necklace, choker, brooches, bracelet, and rings. In pain, Brielle rolled her eyes at the retelling. She thought about remarking on Mercedes joining the Drama Club at school with her dramatic account, but held her tongue as Kayla patted their friend’s arm soothingly.

“Oh, my. You poor thing,” Mrs. Ashmore said, placing her hand over her heart.

“This Seeper gets around, doesn’t he? What did your father say?” Francesca asked.

“I haven’t been able to tell him yet. Security won’t let me into my own home!” Mercedes revealed, stomping her foot for effect.

“Excuse me. Did either one of you see our friend? He’s dressed as the Invisible Man,” Kayla inquired.

“Ah, yes, we did. Mal asked him to escort us out of the ballroom. Mr. Fleeman is having each guest searched one by one. Which is not going over very well, but these people can deal with it,” Francesca relayed. “The Frost Diamond Necklace is far too valuable to worry about upsetting their feelings.”

“Where did Keever go? The jerk hung up on me.”

“We don’t know that, Cede,” the petite brunette reminded.

“I can’t say when he exactly left us. I know the young man was around when we repeated our stories to your father’s security,” Francesca recalled.

“I bet he had a lead to follow on. You know these–” Avalon began to say until Mercedes interrupted.

“What precisely happened, Aunt Franny?”

The owner of the stolen necklace quickly gave a rundown of the sprinklers coming on before the power went out. Mrs. Ashmore added details about the ensuing pandemonium and Malachai’s orders. Francesca mentioned that most of the questioning pertained to the identities of the people around her before the lights went out.

“Was my mother near you?”

Kayla and Brielle promptly shared a concerned look. They knew Petra Raddatz didn’t get along with her husband’s friend, which led to several tense scenes over the years. But did their friend truly suspect her mother?

“Not at all,” Avalon replied first.

“Petra was too busy being in the arms of Carlo while on the dance floor. I doubt she cared about anything else,” Francesca recounted sarcastically.

“Fran!” the grandmotherly-looking woman admonished.

“It’s fine, ma’am. I know how mother can be,” Mercedes reassured the older woman. “Who do you remember being by you?”

“Miss Cloud was standing–”

“Skylar Cloud, the actress?” Kayla interrupted before blushing.

“Yes, such a sweetheart. She moved to protect me from the stampede of people,” Avalon continued.

“Actors are professional liars,” Francesca countered, revealing that she considered the attractive actress to be a suspect.

“Oh, Fran,” Mrs. Ashmore said, sadly. “I highly doubt her. And I’ve been through this before. I don’t know if your father told–”

“Who else?” Mercedes questioned.

“Let’s see…Blaise’s latest beard was–”

“Liesel. And don’t call her that, Fran,” Avalon scolded before noticing the trio’s inquisitive expressions. “My apologies. Elsabeth Witzke. She’s currently dating Blaise D’Amour.”

“If you can call it that. The man is clearly gay,” Francesca declared.

“The owner of D’Amour Fragrance?” Brielle double-checked, then glared at her friend. “You didn’t tell us that he’d be–”

“Whatever! Now, what’s the deal with this woman?” Mercedes challenged. “What’s her costume?”

“Oh, Blaise and Liesel are a Vampire King and Vampire Queen,” Avalon relayed, watching as the young heiress brought her hand to her bosom as if searching for something before glowering for a reason. “I sense a strong connection between the two. Liesel might finally be the one who ropes Blaise in. She has a lovely personality.”

“Great tits, too. Yet, I doubt they matter to Blaise,” Francesca remarked. “Your father’s latest assistant had also come over just before the sprinkles activated.”

“Holland’s nice,” Kayla commented, causing Mercedes and her godmother to scowl.

“Very attentive and sharp. Much more like your grandfather’s assistants,” Avalon commented.

“She’s a busybody whom I don’t trust. Not fucking Mal after all this time is suspicious,” Mrs. Horne declared.

“Fran, his daughter is right–”

“I’m even more aware of my father’s behavior,” Mercedes reassured. “However, I doubt my dad skipped a full vetting before hiring her.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Gal has great tits, as well.”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Mrs. Ashmore mused, seeking to ignore her younger friend’s comment. “Ah, yes, Yanis’s latest woman was off to our side. Not to speak ill of someone I don’t know well, but she does come across like a femme fatale from one of Wisteria’s novels.”

“Wisteria Harp?” Kayla queried. “My mom loves her books.”

“Yes, they aren’t particularly my taste, but one must support a friend. Interestingly enough, her grand–”

“What do you think about Mr. Eike’s girlfriend?” Mercedes asked her family friend.

“Xelina? Fiery, with a bit of spunk. I like her,” Francesca declared.

“Spunk is a word for what she does,” Avalon mumbled softly enough that only Kayla heard, which made her giggle.

“Unbelievable!” a voice roared near the French doors.

“Honey, keep it down,” a woman dressed in a Ladybug costume hissed.

“Why? I’m not the only person getting patted down like a common crook…and by a man. Malachi could’ve at least had one of the women do it!” Green Hornet bellowed in outrage. “I should’ve stayed in the billiard room. I bet Brask’s insistence that the poker game be locked inside has saved them the indignity.”

“Oh, yes. Konstantin Brask’s latest lady friend was also standing with Xelina. Inka something from Finland. Highly attractive, like most of his women. Surprisingly a brunette. You know, he did have this blonde with him when I was robbed at Arbor’s wedding–”

“What’s she dressed as?” Mercedes interrupted yet again.

“Oh, I believe she might be a Roman Goddess,” Avalon speculated, letting the constant interruptions slide.

“I’d call her outfit more of a Roman Concubine,” Francesca quipped.

“Wow, that must be weird. My dad’s a Roman Emperor,” Mercedes pointed out.

“Even better, Brask is a Roman Gladiator. I wonder if your father will challenge him for a night with his woman,” Francesca joked.

“She doesn’t seem that upset about losing her necklace,” Brielle whispered into Kayla’s ear.

“Maybe Elliot noticed,” the petite brunette whispered. However, Avalon didn’t appear to have any hearing issues at her age.

“Yes, I bet your friend did notice a peculiarity about a guest,” Mrs. Ashmore agreed. “I have first-hand knowledge of how these young amateur sleuths can solve mysteries that the police are baffled by. You should hear all the amazing adventures this young group of junior high school detectives has solved in Edgewater. My friend Wisteria Harp’s grand–”

“We need to find Keever. He mentioned being in the front yard on his call,” Mercedes recalled. “If I can’t get in to see my dad, then my piss-poor investigator will have to do.”

“That’s not very nice, Cede,” Kayla said, folding her arms. However, she swiftly unfolded them to follow the redhead. “Ellie and Graham didn’t have to help.”

“Right! Higbee,” Mercedes said, sounding as if she only remembered the bookworm whom she’d recently talked to. “Bree, call around to find Higbee. Maybe Keever doubled back.”

“I don’t have his number.”

“Well, he left it in the cloakroom anyway,” Mercedes shot back. “I don’t know, start with Carmen and Val. It shouldn’t be hard to find him. He’s wearing that hideous pumpkin costume!”

---

“You found her up in a tree?” Jacqueline Cabot repeated, smirking.

Graham waved off the cheerleader captain, who listened in to the recounting with her flunkies from the far edge of the small crowd. One basketball player whistled before Linus shut his teammate up. Kayla’s kind boyfriend also suggested that Graham not say anything more in front of the crowd. He knew how his girlfriend’s close friend would react to the story getting out. Several jokes about the Wicked Witch flying passed around among the crowd, proving him correct. However, one person took the tale poorly.

“Grammy, how could you? This raises serious concerns about our family connection in the worst possible way. How do I not question this insult?” Percy asked.

“Stop babbling, Pascoe,” Reese ordered.

“No, I can’t. Graham, how did you not come get me?”

“I didn’t need help. I found a knife in that art studio. Although I probably could’ve used more help when lowering her to the ground. She slammed down kinda hard,” the bookworm admitted.

“No, I meant how could you not get me so that I could see her uptight ass upside down? Shit, did you at least get a picture?” Percy questioned, earning groans and laughter. “Seriously, why didn’t you keep her up there for a couple of hours?”

“I don’t have time for your games,” Graham replied dismissively. “Mercedes said that a person dressed as the Mummy is the one who stole all her jewelry. Now, she thinks it was Freddie, but I disagree. I believe someone either had the same costume on or stole his.”

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound like Freddie. That yellow-belly greenhorn lacks the balls,” Reese declared, staying partially in character.

“Or the brains,” Nellie added softly.

“Spencer, when you went to change costumes in the art studio, did you see the Mummy? He walked out of the woods not long after you,” Graham noted. “I do know you both exited on the northernmost path, while Raddatz was hanging in the central one.”

"I can't say that I saw or heard him. However, you know that feeling you get when you think you're being watched? I felt that while changing. I couldn't say from which direction, as I had left the lights off. But I did step away from the moonlight shining in the window, since I assumed if anyone was around, it was outside," the current Velma Dinkley revealed.

“It very well could’ve been the thief. He might have heard you enter after he strung Mercedes up,” the crime hobbyist mused. “We need to search the studio and the surrounding area for clues. And my we includes you, Spencer.”

“Alright, I guess I might as well help, since I distracted you with my masquerade,” the school actress said, agreeing to go along. “Hey, at least we’ll have something to tell Miss Mifflin in our mystery club.”

Graham gestured to the western path. It was the only one of the three walkways to that area that he hadn’t been down yet. Nodding, Spencer started toward it until she heard a question behind them.

“So, um, do we need to keep going with Higbee as his bodyguards?” Bash inquired.

As one of the two people Mercedes explicitly named, Ryle responded by shrugging. Both football players glanced at Graham for an answer. Sighing, the bookworm threw out his arms.

“I don’t know. Maybe one of you–Diego, see if you can find Elliot,” Graham suggested, spotting his fellow roped-in investigator’s best friend.

“One of you should go with Higbee,” Reese suggested. “I think I will, too. Searching for clues to a theft sounds far more interesting than watching Uphoff and Barron bicker.”

“Hey! Watch it, bit…” Haylee started to warn before catching herself. The drunk cheerleader knew better than to challenge the hyper swimmer directly when sober.

“Hell, if you’re going with Kersey, I’m down,” Bash replied, grinning. “I’ll be their muscle, guys.”

Karsten, Ryle, and Antonio nodded before the former said he’d help Diego find Elliot.

“Yo, Nellie, you’re also with us,” Reese ordered, pointing at the gossip girl.

“Me? I don’t think–”

“I wasn’t asking. You’re good at noticing details and know more shit than you let on. Besides, you’ll get a front row seat to what you’d be gossiping about all next week,” the Cowgirl explained.

“Count me in,” Percy announced.

“No!” Graham, Reese, and Spencer responded. Only the flirt’s semi-friend provided a decent excuse. “I need to stay back to watch for the Mummy and the fake Iron Man. Can you do that, Perce?”

"Seriously? Hell, yeah! Fembots, to my side! We have evil to stop," Percy proclaimed, causing Reese to whisper, "Good call," to Graham.

Little Bo Peep shook her head in annoyance, yet she joined The Great Pumpkin, Velma Dinkley, Mace Windu, and the Cowgirl/Marshal to form the motley crew that soon disappeared into the forest. While some curiosity existed about their search, nearly every party-goer returned to their planned activities for the night: drinking, dancing, and flirting.

“Bash, you can go ahead,” Reese directed, once the woods turned dark.

“And get attacked by a creature?”

“Right, sorry. I guess we could’ve grabbed a flashlight or something,” Graham apologized. “I left my phone with my clothes. Do any of you–”

“Yeah, yeah, a Jedi is always prepared…to get digits,” Bash cracked, producing his smartphone from a hidden pocket under his robes.

Reese and Nellie also pulled out their phones, agreeing to alternate using them to light the group’s rear. Having joined Graham in the middle behind Bash, Spencer offered her phone to the crime hobbyist.

“Since you’re the person in charge of looking for clues.”

“Um, thanks,” the shy bookworm said to his fellow book club member. People are looking at me as if I’m in charge. Wait, am I in charge? I don’t want to be. This is so weird. Why did Elliot have to disappear?

The group stumbled along the pathway for the next seven minutes with Nellie cursing about nature. Reese didn’t help, constantly asking the indoors girl if she heard this or that sound while speculating about the animal that might have made it. At one point, Bash tripped, turning his fall into a roll, while claiming he meant to do that.

Eventually, they heard a voice calling out ahead of them. Everyone in the group turned toward Graham, who shrugged, "I don't know."

“Help! Is anyone there?”

The path took the group around a large tree, revealing about thirty feet of trail before the next curve. Bash peered suspiciously to each side while Reese stepped ahead to join Graham and Spencer. Ready to freak out, Nellie turned to walk sideways, with an eye on the path behind them.

“Hey! Help me!”

This wasn’t his first rodeo, so Graham raised his head to scan the trees. That’s how he located a young man hanging upside down over the path. Spencer and Reese followed his gaze to spot their classmate. Nearly underneath, Bash slipped, falling onto his butt after seeing the guy’s head about ten feet above.

“Hey, Bash! Get me down!”

“Oh, great. It’s Quirke,” Reese deadpanned, realizing the hanging man was one of the bullies she had frightened off before. With that in mind, she glanced at Graham for direction.

“Did you see who set the trap?” Graham asked after pondering the situation.

“No.”

“Okay. We’ll leave him for now,” the bullied bookworm announced.

“What? Get me fucking down, or you’ll all pay!” the bald Lex Luthor vowed.

“Whoa! Did you just threaten me?” Bash asked his teammate.

“I’m threatening all of you!”

“I got this,” Reese said, stepping forward while drawing her green squirt gun.

Immediately, Quirke attempted to cover his face while apologizing to her. He begged the Cowgirl not to shoot him again.

Recognizing this might take a minute or two, Graham started flashing the phone’s light around the tree trunk connected to the rope. Similar to the other trap, the thick cord appeared to be tied tightly with a pair of knots. However, this setup had been tied higher on the tree. Surveying the ground, the crime hobbyist took a wide path around the tree.

“Do you have piss in there?” Bash asked, keeping an eye on the Pumpkin.

“Yep. I totally peed in my squirt gun. Actually, the green is Simone’s and the pink is mine,” Reese revealed.

“Why?

“Aren’t you into golden showers, Basham?”

“Did you find a clue?” Spencer asked, watching her step as she leaned against a nearby tree instead of following Higbee, who was studying the ground.

“It looks like a partial footprint. Can’t tell if it’s a shoe or a boot, but it looks like a large person made it, based on the depth,” Graham explained, returning to the walkway. “That might confirm that the trapster was a man.”

“Let it go, jock. It’s liquor,” Nellie revealed, stepping around Reese and Bash. “We’re wasting time.”

“Really? What kind?” the running back inquired.

“I’ll give you a shot once we’re done,” the swimmer offered as a reward.

“Please! I’m begging!”

“We’ll need to find a knife anyway, Quirke. So don’t wander off,” Graham ordered, thankful that he didn’t have pockets or he might have the knife from before on him.

Turning another corner on the path, they spotted the side of the art studio within thirty seconds. After going around the front of the studio on the east side and partially past the southeast corner, Graham took in the west-side rear of the building for the first time. Spotting a back door, he walked toward it.

“Hmm, more mud. It appears someone either tried to scrape it off or they slipped on the stoop,” the crime hobbyist noted, pointing the light at the concrete edge.

The rear door turned out to be locked, so everyone had to go around to the front. As they walked past the start of the central walkway, Graham quietly told Spencer where Mercedes’s trap was. The actress confirmed she’d walked directly to the path on the left, since that’s the one she’d taken to the building twice to store her belongings and make her first change.

Entering the art studio first, Bash searched for the light switch. Reese entered the dark building next with a warning from Spencer to be careful. Graham agreed, recalling the statues, sculptures, tables, and chairs that one could trip over. Nellie waited until the lights flickered on to enter.

With the studio illuminated, Graham and Spencer noticed three doors off the room for the first time. Nodding at the bookworm, the actress went directly over to check her bags while keeping an eye on the doors. She placed two bags on the table, blushed, and hurriedly grabbed a piece of clothing that fell to the floor when one bag tipped over.

“Nice,” Bash said, noticing the lacy, black bra. Then a red ball rolled toward his foot. He picked it up and noticed a hole in one side. “Is this a ball gag?”

“Eww! No, it’s the nose for my clown costume. I planned to change into it for the end of the party,” Spencer explained, causing Bash to mumble about hating clowns.

With the football player no longer interested in Spencer’s clothes, he eyed up the two doors on the north side of the room. One open door looked like it led to a bathroom. Graham suggested that Bash should check inside.

“Dammit, Higbee. Why does the black guy have to be the bait for the killer?”

“I never said anything about a killer. We’re dealing with a jewel thief,” Graham responded, with a confused expression.

“Well, I’m leery of entering an abandoned building’s bathroom. A shower is the perfect place for a slasher to lie in wait,” Bash continued, stopping five feet away and off to the side of the door.

“Do you want me to check?” Reese challenged.

The Cowgirl started checking under tables and then eyed the closets, holding her pink, tequila-filled squirt gun. While she performed those checks, Nellie whipped off the sheets covering the various artwork and tables, tossing them into a pile. Graham and Spencer exchanged bewildered looks when they noticed the gossiper taking pictures of every item.

“Is she cataloging the art and sculptures?” Spencer questioned.

“Who knows?” Graham replied, then returned his attention to his temporary bodyguard. “Bash, this isn’t a slasher film. Just check inside.”

Five seconds after jumping into the bathroom, the running back walked out as if he’d never been concerned. Announcing the room clear, Bash frowned as Graham pointed to the nearby closed door. Assuring the skittish Mace Windu that everything would be fine, the Pumpkin joined him.

“I really expected somebody to be inside here waiting,” Bash admitted, studying the shelves and racks filled with supplies in the room that turned out to be harmless.

“A storeroom would be a good place for the killer to hide,” Graham agreed, indulging his reluctant bodyguard.

“Everything is clear over here,” Reese announced, finishing her check under and around the furniture. While the closets had seemed promising at first, she left one door open to show that they weren’t dissimilar to those found in some of their high school classrooms, meaning they weren’t deep enough for an average-sized person or larger to squeeze into.

That left only the door along the west wall.

“Maybe it’s the back door,” Spencer suggested, with everyone tensing at the final hiding place.

‘No, the building’s dimensions don’t match the theory,” Graham noted.

“It might be another workroom,” Nellie speculated. With the others appearing inquisitive, she continued. “Look at what’s missing. There are numerous pottery pieces around, yet I don’t see a kiln.”

“A what?” Reese queried.

“An oven for hardening or drying pottery and other pieces,” Graham explained, noticing the floor in front of the door. Raising a hand to silence everyone, he scanned the floor carefully as he slowly made his way toward the door in question.

“Is that…” Spencer started to ask, but then remembered to stay silent.

“A muddy footprint. It resembles a man’s steel-toed work boot. Size thirteen or fourteen,” Graham speculated.

“How can you tell all that? It looks like any old footprint,” Reese pointed out.

“I’ve studied footprints extensively,” the bookworm revealed. Then, noticing their odd expressions, he added, “Everyone has a hobby.”

“Fuck this,” Bash said, picking up one of the smaller, ten-foot statues. “I’m going in with a weapon this time.”

Working in tandem, Graham turned the doorknob and pushed it gently. Bash followed, leaping into the dark room.

“Oh, shit!” the football player cried, causing Reese to rush in with both squirt guns drawn.

A bound and gagged Freddie Illig lay squirming on the floor, clad only in his underwear.

---

"Oh my gawd," Elliot moaned, his head rolling slightly to the side of the pillow.

"Shit, the girls at your school must go gaga over this big dick," Holland guessed, pulling back from the blowjob. A string of spittle stayed connected from her lower lip to the chock head for a few seconds while she stroked the large shaft.

"Not really. My last girlfriend claimed it was too dirty,” Elliot admitted, trying to be cool by not giving away that Haylee had been his only girlfriend to the gorgeous, half-naked woman kneeling between his spread legs on the bed.

“Hasn’t Mercedes seen this? No? Damn, that little slut will be all over it once she does,” Mr. Raddatz’s personal assistant said about her boss’s daughter. “But for now, it’s mine.”

Holland’s blue eyes twinkled as she descended to inhale the young man’s cock again. She smoothly took in a couple of inches before pulling back to caress the tip and head with her tongue. With her hand, she stroked the remaining half of his pulsing weapon, making sure every inch of her “rescuer’s” cock was well taken care of. Miss Bishop savored it with her mouth, with her soft lips, with her tongue, giving the thick dick the worship it deserved.

So unbelievable, Elliot groaned in his head. Haylee had never shown even a fraction of the skill that the current Daphne Blake displayed. Holy sheee-it!

Holland’s pulling off his rod to dip her face forward to attach her mouth to one of his full balls shocked the hell out of Elliot. Taking it between her lips, the well-mannered assistant displayed a sluttiness that the inexperienced man couldn’t believe as she sucked on it lightly. Then, her eager tongue slathered over the taut skin while her hand palmed its underside. Once the brunette-turned-redhead for the night coated the testicle with saliva, she moved to the other one.

“Oh, fuck, Holly,” Elliot moaned, causing Miss Bishop to break off her work.

“Holland. My name is Holland, not Holly,” the twenty-three-year-old corrected sternly. “Got that?”

Satisfied with the nod, the youngish assistant stretched her lips around the wide shaft once again. Descending inch by inch, her abilities continued to enthrall the young man. This was the type of blowjob a guy his age could only fantasize about: getting sucked vigorously while two hands pumped his shaft, and spit leaked down its sides.

Gawd, she’s really, really into this…Oh, no! Hold it, Elliot. Hold it in!

Nearly four minutes into the incredible blowjob, the inexperienced high school student hit his limit. Straining to last even a few seconds longer out of pride, Elliot groaned while pushing the back of his head into the pillow. Jaw clenched, and hands balled into fists, the young man couldn’t stave off the eruption any longer.

Unfortunately, Miss Bishop only sensed the surge a split second before it blew. The first load splattered deep into the back of her throat while she pulled her mouth off to better swallow. The second round caused her to struggle before the third forced her to pull completely off not to gag.

The fourth volley launched into the air before Holland could adjust, splashing onto her eyebrows. The fifth hit her nose and left cheek before she could recapture the tip between her lips for the sixth and final burst.

All this happened as Elliot watched in horror. Shame, embarrassment, and humiliation filled his mind after prematurely blowing his load. He could only imagine how poorly he’d performed in the eyes of the experienced beauty.

“Oh, gawd, I’m so sorry!” the high school senior apologized.

Rather than mock his performance, Holland continued to lean forward with her mouth clamped around his cockhead. Sucking fiercely, she used her left hand to squeeze one of his balls while her right pumped his shaft, seeking to extract as much of the remaining cum as possible. After a minute, Holland pulled her lips off, satisfied with her effort.

Then, Elliot watched in amazement as the pretty PA started to scoop the cum off her face and into her mouth. Sensing that she loved cum, the thought of her wanting, if not needing, more seemed to shoot an electric thrill through his body. The pulsing shocks quickly brought blood and life back to his cock.

“Damn, you get back up fast,” Holland remarked, wrapping a hand around the thick shaft again. “I really shouldn’t…”

Elliot’s heart dropped at the trailed-off comment. Worried that she might be mad at him, the young man didn’t say a word. Instead, he watched as Miss Bishop seemed to work out a dilemma in her head. Biting her lip, Holland glanced back at the locked door.

“Fuck it,” the buxom beauty said, raising and moving her body until her pussy hovered over Elliot’s manhood. “I need to feel this in me.”