Page 48 of Rescued By the Operative

“Let me taste you.

“Yes, Jake!”

He spreads me wide and crashes his mouth between my legs.

He nudges open my wet folds with his face, easily finding my aching clit.

I close my eyes and feel like I’m on a drug as I revel in him. His tongue slides through my wetness, slipping the tip into my cunt. His lips are teasing, kissing, and tasting my sensitive skin. The sucking of my clit is sending me to places I’ve never been.

My body jerks as he finds it again and again. He is gentle but fierce. Wild but knows exactly what to do to make me ache for more.

I come quickly, with my fingers tugging at his short-cropped hair.

“Come here,” I rasp.

He comes up to the head of the bed to let me look at him, to let me brush my fingers through his hair.

Jake’s chin is red from the rubbing. I run my finger over his glazed lips. I can smell myself all over him.

I want to lick him everywhere. His mouth, his chin, his strong chest.

“You’re amazing,” I tell him.

“I don’t know if I’m amazing,” he replies. “But I’m yours.”

Chapter Twenty

Jake

If I’d known all hell would break loose while I was on my date with Blondie, I would have extended our little getaway to three days instead of overnight.

Blondie and I returned to Sterling Ranch after our date to the news that Orlyn Moffatt, the cult’s prophet, is missing.

Ever since, the Wylie gang has been in meetings to decide our next move.

Today, things have come to a head. The group has gathered at the ranch one last time to hammer out the plan and get everyone on the same page. Wylie, Olivia, Ellis, Louisa, Barrett, Goldie, Jefferson, Georgie, Joaquin, and Jasmyn.

“It’s the damndest thing,” Wylie says.

“What is?” I ask.

“Well, I was just complaining that I didn’t have a plan to distract the elders enough to get the remaining women and children outof the compound. And then an angry mob showed up with a battering ram to the jail. Nobody has seen Orlyn Moffatt since.”

“Yeah,” I say, eyeing my brother. “It is a damn coincidence.”

Ennis scoffs.

“What is it?” I ask.

“We seem to have a lot of coincidences around here,” my younger brother says.

“I know what you’re getting at,” Blondie says. “And you’re barking up the wrong tree, Ennis.”

“But we don’t even know your name and we’re supposed to trust you,” he says.

Curly butts in with, “She’s my responsibility and I vouch for her.”

Ennis scoffs.