Shadow Ops: Danger's Heat (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A Shadow Ops Novella Book 2) by LS Silverii Page B

writhed like a wild animal with pants and curses.
    “You okay?”
    “Yes, baby. Fuck yeah.”
    “Krystal, slow down you’re gonna to make me come.” His breathing grew rapid. He began to suck in fast shots of air while muscles contorted beneath reddened skin preparing to orgasm.
    “Come. I need to feel you come,” she wailed in delight. Her short hair whipped in quick head jerks. Her body’s twists and arcs excited Hollywood. Her skin was soft, the tattoos moved fluidly over her curvaceous physique.
    “Baby, I can’t stop…Yes, Krystal, yes,” he struggled with capturing breaths and tried not to fully enter her rear end. Watching just the head of his cock, while the rest of his shaft suspended outside of her body was an exhilarating sight. He stroked his shaft and loved the sensation of exploding his semen inside her ass.
    His fingers yanked her hips closer to his pelvis. He repeated the word baby endlessly as sweat erupted across his body. Even his feet were wet with the moisture of sex—pure animalistic sex.
    *     *     *
    [SWAT up. Brief n 10]
    Hollywood’s pulse quickened as he read Rose’s message. He tossed the secure cell over to Voodoo. It landed on her rock-hard abs, and made a ping sound as the metal casing bounced off her belly button ring.
    “I wonder what news broke? It’s been fun and all but I’m ready to head back to Biloxi and finish our weekend.” Voodoo swooned over Hollywood’s nude physique.
    “Not sure, but I’m with you on that one. Seems there’s a video floating around that reminds me of what we were up to when we got roused off the Beau Rivage rooftop. That seems like so long ago,” Hollywood said as he tugged his tactical uniform over a pair of gym shorts and UnderArmor shirt. “Gotta get moving, baby. No keeping Rose waiting when shit’s going down.”
    Tires crunched gravel and cement as the SUV swung across the vacant parking lot behind an abandoned barroom at West 59 th near Central Park Avenue. The Hog’s Wart Saloon looked like it had seen more deviant days. With boarded up windows and metal doors locked tight, only the Fire Marshal’s notice stapled to the wall appeared recent.
    “Eyes up,” Chase sneered as they rounded the east side toward ten Harley Davidson motorcycles backed into a straight-line formation. The hogs ranged from piecemeal rat bikes to showroom-floor pristine.
    “All probably stolen,” KC added.
    “Not our problem. Don’t mention anything other than the mission. I could care less if they had a full-blown meth lab inside—our job is to stop Bonny. Understood?” Rose’s unusual recital didn’t set well with Hollywood. The expressions on the others’ faces showed the same.
    Billy pulled the vehicle around until it was situated with the driver’s door away from the barroom. He also intentionally pulled the extended SUV parallel with the building, thus blocking the motorcycles in between the bar and vehicle. Hollywood reached over the seat to pat him on the shoulder—Billy was always thinking ahead three or four steps.
    “There were eleven at their clubhouse, but only ten bikes,” Chase said.
    “Maybe one’s riding bitch,” Voodoo said.
    “Doubt these devils ride bitch. They’d kill you and steal your bike before asking for a ride on it,” Chase said.
    “Keep your eyes open and mouths closed. I’m sure this’ll still run out in a power play once they arm themselves. They don’t need anymore info than necessary. I trust Justice, but not the others,” Rose instructed.
    At the admission, Billy’s head snapped toward Rose. Hollywood assumed it was the casual way she’d announced her trust for the leader of these vile criminals.
    “It’ll be okay—these guys can be trusted if Justice says so.” Voodoo’s warm green eyes burned with an excited energy. Hollywood wished her smile wasn’t so eager, but then she glanced at him and blew a silent kiss. He patted his right hand over his heart—he wasn’t so sure about