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Slowly, he jacks us together, applying friction with every stroke. His mouth finds mine, his stubble rough, kissing me hard. I feel the need behind his movements. This isn’t just a means to an end; we’re both desperate for affection from someone that actually understands who and what we are. We’re desperate for someone that cares.

With the next upstroke, I feel the pre-cum slide down my tip, mingling with his own slippery fluid. It eases the friction into something sweeter, slicker. My balls tingle and my breath comes in jerky bursts. I’ve sucked a lot of cock in my life. Eaten pussy. Groomed and manipulated, but no one has ever taken care of me like this.

My hand covers his. “I’m gonna come.”

“Not yet,” he says, eyes shifting over to Jasmine and Robert. She’s sitting on his face while he eats her with abandon. Her head hangs lazily to the side, and she pinches her nipples. Our work here is done, I know it. He knows it. But one look into his crystal blue eyes, tells me he’s not finished.

He releases us, our cocks springing apart. A moment later he’s working his way down my body, fingers skimming my overheated flesh. He stops with his mouth inches away from my cock. Lower down, he’s gripping his shaft, rubbing slowly.

I swallow and ask, “Have you—”

“No.” He cuts me off, cheeks a faint pink. “How hard can it be? Dicks aren’t complicated.”

I laugh and he smiles, cutting through a little of the tension—mostly from the sound of Robert’s grunts from the other side of the rug. I focus on Rex, on his mouth, on the pink of his tongue and block out everything else.

It’s not hard to do once his lips graze my cockhead.

Fuck.

It feels so good when he closes his lips around me. Skin prickling, balls aching, blood thumping in my veins. He wraps his hand around the base and takes me in, warm and hot, then sucks.

My cock pulses, and he groans, signaling that he’s not hating this at all. He’s still working his cock, jerking his length with controlled strokes. His eyes fog over, and he focuses all of his attention on me. My hips rise, fucking upward, he never flinches, taking everything I give him—all the way to the back of his throat.

That’s when I feel the climax seize my balls, and I push him back. His broad shoulders tense and a heartbeat later, the rush of cum spurts between us—his and mine—as we both grunt through the release. It pools hot and sticky on my abs and chest.

I blink at him hovering over me, chest heaving, at the mess spilled on my body and feel the first sense of calm in weeks. He grabs his shirt and wipes us down.

“Thank you,” I say, rising up on my elbows. I know it took a lot for him to do this for me. For us. ForImogene.

“God, that was hot.” We both look over and see Jasmine slick in sheen of sweat. Robert lies spread eagle on the floor, cock flaccid against his thigh. He’s lost in some kind of post orgasmic haze. “That,” she says, pointing at the two of us, “is all I want. That. I can just feel it rolling off of you.”

“Feel what?” I ask.

She grins. “Enlightenment.”

10

Elon

“I’m not sure about this.” I stare at the small brick house. The bungalow is tucked in a transitional space between commercial and residential property in the small town of Thistle Cove. There’s nothing interesting about it. The awning over the front porch is rusted and needs a fresh coat of paint. There are no signs announcing what goes on inside. If it’s a residence or a business. Just big numbers with the street address—the nine hung askew. The only sign of life is the wreath made of sunflowers on the door.

I didn’t go in last time we were here. Silas and Rex went in. I stayed outside to keep watch. It wasn’t my idea to come today. That’s on Levi. He’s the one pushing us to meet Camille Montgomery. Imogene’s mother.

“We have to do something,” Levi says.

“Thisseems extreme.”

He looks from me to the house. Camille works in that house, helping former cult members move on with their lives. It’s the word cult that trips me up. I’m not dumb, I know Anex is up to shady and nefarious shit. I know he uses his charm and charisma to manipulate, but cult? I’m not even sure what that word means. It was never in our vocabulary other than defensively. We were told our entire lives that Serendee is a community. Not a cult. And the people who say so are trying to destroy what we’ve worked so hard to build.

People like Camille.

It’s been an hour since the bus dropped us off at the stop across the street from the house. I look over at Levi, taking in how tired and lost he seems. Even so, I don’t hold back. “I’ll tell you what I told her,” I say, remembering the day I took her to the library, and we covertly tracked her mother down on the internet. Imogene had been conflicted—scared. Levi glances at me. “I told her by searching for her mother we were crossing a line. That it would change everything.”

I’d been right, more tragically right than I’d even realized.

“Everything’s already changed, Elon,” he says, running his hand through his red hair. His eyes never leave the house. “We’re broke. Basically homeless.”

“I make money.”