Free Liam Davis & The Raven by Anyta Sunday

there and take it as it comes, ad lib.
    Quinn stood quickly, and we both would have faced the music of getting caught investigating if it weren’t for what happened next.
    Among the sounds of pants, groans and kisses , came the sound of a zipper being undone and a girl’s plea. “Turn off the light in there.”
    There was only time for an awkward glance to Quinn, who looked as uncertain what to do as I felt, before a male’s arm stretched through the gap in the door, fishing for the light switch—
    Click!
    Darkness. Slurping smooches assaulted my ears.
    I flew to the ground, crawling for a space to hide myself. I glanced toward the door at the live silhouettes of legs imprisoning us in this room. I yanked on Quinn’s pant leg, making him drop to all fours too. He came down lightly without a sound, like he’d done this before.
    The bed. It was our only option for hiding. The desks were too small, and there wasn’t any other furniture.
    So , the bed it was.
    I slithered under and thought I heard a soft curse as Quinn pressed himself in behind me. “Snooping, snooping, snoopster!” he said.
    Thankfully, I could only make out the wooden slats and the corner feet of the bed because, tangled around my legs, was something that felt like clothing and I prayed wasn’t dirty underwear.
    Quinn sidled in closer until h is breath tickled my side and his deodorant filled my nose with every breath. Jazz music beat through the thin carpet and against my stomach, legs and arms, and I hoped it would disguise our breathing.
    More groans sounded, and then footsteps moved into the room, followed quickly by discarded clothes hitting the floor, slick kissing sounds, and light slaps. The horrific sounds got closer and closer until, looking over Quinn, I glimpsed two pairs of feet.
    Was it too late to start praying they’d do it somewhere other than the bed?
    Kaplank! Boing!
    “Christ!” Quinn whispered as their bodies hit the mattress.
    I pressed my finger to my lips, instantly realizing it was too dark under the bed for him to see my cue, so I fished for his mouth and pinched it shut. His lips grazed the length of my finger as he turned his head in my direction. I yanked my arm back. We flinched as the slats groaned above us, followed by a moan that sounded as if it were trying to harmonize.
    “Yeah, oh yeah. That’s right. Suck it. Suck it.”
    My eyes adjusted to the darkness under the bed. The way Quinn was looking at me, as if unsure whether to laugh or scowl, had me wishing for the cloaking darkness to return. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead like he just couldn’t believe this was happening.
    “All the way in, yeah, you can take it. God, your mouth is fucking beautiful.”
    Quinn shut his eyes and looked at me when he reopened them. He was mouthing something that I couldn’t make out, but I knew he was cussing.
    I agreed that the situation wasn’t ideal , but we had to live through it. I shoved my glasses up and twisted just enough to reach into my pocket—
    The slats thumped and I froze, pressing myself closer to the floor , my hand jammed in my pocket.
    The girl spoke. “Give it here.”
    I predicted the coming event, so I quickly wriggled into a better position, pulling out my pen and notebook from my pocket. I might just be able to read some of my notes from earlier. I’d concentrate on the column I had to write, and not on the thumping that— thump, groan, thump, groan— had just started.
    “God, you’re so tight.”
    Silent laughter shook Quinn’s body and grated against my side. Well, while he laughed, I’d focus on the historical elements that were portrayed at this ball and—
    Quinn shuffled closer to me and brought his mouth to my ear. His warm hand rested on my pen-clenching hand. “Are you serious?” The words slid down my neck and his breath turned my skin into goosebump soup.
    Thump- thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
    “Fuck. Fuck yeah. Ride me, baby.”
    “You’re unbelievable,” he