Shadow Ops: Danger's Heat (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A Shadow Ops Novella Book 2) by LS Silverii Page B
Authors: LS Silverii
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adhesive back to clot the spots of blood, but he never interrupted Voodoo.
She started slow, paying more attention to checking the door for staff. Her eyes took on a glassy look as she increased the pressure over his cock. She squeezed until his fingers brushed through her naturally wavy hair. Hollywood rocked his hips toward her and encouraged more by guiding her head toward his dick.
“No, bad boy.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
She stroked his swollen rod faster until he saw the head of it gorge with blood and shade purple. It wouldn’t be long. He groaned as he tugged at the thin cover to lay it over his bent left leg. It made a tent to conceal her head. Again he tugged at her short hair, but harder. She relented with a giggling surrender and took his cock into her mouth then her throat.
His head rocked back, his eyelids batted. His pulse reader activated a distress signal and immediately set off an alarm at the nurse’s station. Neither knew.
His body convulsed at the waist. Hips pounded back and forth as Voodoo gripped his testicles with both hands to pump his cock for every taste of seed he delivered. She released his dick and fell back onto her ass. His left knee collapsed into the side rail. His drained penis flopped onto his inner thigh as he melted deep into the mattress strip.
Three nurses, one orderly and the ER doctor stood silent in the doorway. One gripped the crash cart for stability—another deactivated the code blue alert. Hollywood figured they’d seen it all before.
He gave a weak smile. “What can I say? You give excellent attention to patient care.”
CHAPTER 9
Voodoo steered the rental into the empty parking lot to meet with the rest of STR. They’d been holed up at a resource Rose had established through her CIA network. The complex was clean, but nothing to stick around for. Besides, they’d been busy deciphering Bonny’s next step. Hollywood’s hospital discharge was a boost to everyone’s dashed spirits.
“Look who’s back from the dead.” Billy hugged Hollywood close—the way warriors who’ve shared trauma do.
“I feel much better. The doc said to eat these pain meds until I can get the shoulder checked proper. Enough about me, what we got?”
“Your lucky find of that four-leaf clover was the game changer,” Billy said.
Hollywood associated the four-leaf clover with the famous Chicago tradition of celebrating St. Paddy’s day with a giant parade and by coloring the Chicago River green.
Billy continued, “Knowing they’re on the road to Chicago, we checked the tire tracks and width the best we could—considering the rain. Tires set apart wide, big truck or moving hauler. Looked up the vendors in Moline and asked for one-way fares. Safe assumption they’re not returning it. Bingo, Hart’s Hauler off of 27 th Street leased the biggest one they have—twenty-six footer on a one-way fare. Guess who signed for it—Cranston Stoner.”
Hollywood laughed. “How stupid is Cranston Stone? Does he think that’ll cover his tracks? It’s like chasing the Apple Dumpling Gang.”
“Except Don Knotts didn’t have a WMD loaded for Chicago.”
“Their payload has to be enormous. They demanded the truck with over sixteen hundred cubic feet of loading space. I figure they got one hundred and sixty-five miles to Chicago. Fuel capacity is fifty-seven gallons at ten miles per gallon, so no need to refuel. Cruising over fifty miles per hour to avoid attention from the coppers, it should take three and a half hours.” Rose ran the numbers.
Billy threw cold water all over the plan. “All that’s great, except the rental receipt was signed at sixteen hundred hours yesterday. They got an eighteen hour head start.” “Black Hawks on their way—we got time to regroup. Can’t blow into Chicago without a plan. I don’t even know who to reach out to. Thanks to the Preacher having every agent’s identity, this damn operational embargo has left my resources thin.” Rose’s
She started slow, paying more attention to checking the door for staff. Her eyes took on a glassy look as she increased the pressure over his cock. She squeezed until his fingers brushed through her naturally wavy hair. Hollywood rocked his hips toward her and encouraged more by guiding her head toward his dick.
“No, bad boy.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
She stroked his swollen rod faster until he saw the head of it gorge with blood and shade purple. It wouldn’t be long. He groaned as he tugged at the thin cover to lay it over his bent left leg. It made a tent to conceal her head. Again he tugged at her short hair, but harder. She relented with a giggling surrender and took his cock into her mouth then her throat.
His head rocked back, his eyelids batted. His pulse reader activated a distress signal and immediately set off an alarm at the nurse’s station. Neither knew.
His body convulsed at the waist. Hips pounded back and forth as Voodoo gripped his testicles with both hands to pump his cock for every taste of seed he delivered. She released his dick and fell back onto her ass. His left knee collapsed into the side rail. His drained penis flopped onto his inner thigh as he melted deep into the mattress strip.
Three nurses, one orderly and the ER doctor stood silent in the doorway. One gripped the crash cart for stability—another deactivated the code blue alert. Hollywood figured they’d seen it all before.
He gave a weak smile. “What can I say? You give excellent attention to patient care.”
CHAPTER 9
Voodoo steered the rental into the empty parking lot to meet with the rest of STR. They’d been holed up at a resource Rose had established through her CIA network. The complex was clean, but nothing to stick around for. Besides, they’d been busy deciphering Bonny’s next step. Hollywood’s hospital discharge was a boost to everyone’s dashed spirits.
“Look who’s back from the dead.” Billy hugged Hollywood close—the way warriors who’ve shared trauma do.
“I feel much better. The doc said to eat these pain meds until I can get the shoulder checked proper. Enough about me, what we got?”
“Your lucky find of that four-leaf clover was the game changer,” Billy said.
Hollywood associated the four-leaf clover with the famous Chicago tradition of celebrating St. Paddy’s day with a giant parade and by coloring the Chicago River green.
Billy continued, “Knowing they’re on the road to Chicago, we checked the tire tracks and width the best we could—considering the rain. Tires set apart wide, big truck or moving hauler. Looked up the vendors in Moline and asked for one-way fares. Safe assumption they’re not returning it. Bingo, Hart’s Hauler off of 27 th Street leased the biggest one they have—twenty-six footer on a one-way fare. Guess who signed for it—Cranston Stoner.”
Hollywood laughed. “How stupid is Cranston Stone? Does he think that’ll cover his tracks? It’s like chasing the Apple Dumpling Gang.”
“Except Don Knotts didn’t have a WMD loaded for Chicago.”
“Their payload has to be enormous. They demanded the truck with over sixteen hundred cubic feet of loading space. I figure they got one hundred and sixty-five miles to Chicago. Fuel capacity is fifty-seven gallons at ten miles per gallon, so no need to refuel. Cruising over fifty miles per hour to avoid attention from the coppers, it should take three and a half hours.” Rose ran the numbers.
Billy threw cold water all over the plan. “All that’s great, except the rental receipt was signed at sixteen hundred hours yesterday. They got an eighteen hour head start.” “Black Hawks on their way—we got time to regroup. Can’t blow into Chicago without a plan. I don’t even know who to reach out to. Thanks to the Preacher having every agent’s identity, this damn operational embargo has left my resources thin.” Rose’s
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