Page 58 of Pursuit of Her

“Challenge accepted.” Eve maneuvered herself so she was in between Reagan’s legs and facing her, then leaned down, capturing her clit in her mouth.

Reagan felt her pleasure building as Eve made quick work of Reagan’s clit with her mouth, flicking and sucking as her fingers kept pumping inside. When it felt like she couldn’t handle any more, Reagan’s legs shook and she felt her core clench as waves of pleasure washed over her and fireworks exploded behind her eyelids.

When her pleasure subsided, her body went slack, and she tried to regain her breath.

Eve lay down next to her on the bed, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“That was…” Reagan said, but awe stopped her short.

“Yeah. It was.”

Reagan threaded her fingers through Eve’s, and their breaths grew more synchronized as they drifted off, the last thought in Reagan’s mind focused only on Eve.

11

EVE

Eve stood at the window of the underground sanctuary, watching Phoenix Ridge through a sophisticated surveillance feed displayed on a wall-mounted screen. Dawn's pale light touched the city's eastern edges, refracting off buildings where people were rising to begin ordinary days, oblivious to the war being waged in the shadows.

Three days had passed since their escape from the hospital. Three days of Reagan's painful recovery, evidence compilation, and network coordination. The coffee cup in Eve's hand had gone cold, forgotten as she cataloged the distance between who she'd been a week ago and who she'd become.

"You're thinking too loudly," Reagan's voice came from behind her.

Eve turned to find Reagan navigating carefully through the command center that occupied the sanctuary's main room. Despite Dr. Hammond's strict orders for bed rest, Reagan had insisted on joining the planning session. Her movements were measured, each step calculated to minimize the pain that flashed across her face despite her attempts to conceal it.

"You should be resting," Eve said, moving to assist her.

Reagan waved her off with her good arm. "I've had enough rest. We have work to do."

The sanctuary's main room had been transformed into an operation center: walls covered with evidence and connections, multiple computers linked to secure servers, and tactical gear positioned for quick access. The Phoenix Network's exposure at the gala had been just the beginning. Senator Barrow and Judge Stroud were already distancing themselves publicly while frantically covering their tracks.

"Your body needs to heal," Eve insisted, pulling out a chair for Reagan at the central planning table.

Reagan eased herself down, wincing slightly. "My body can heal while we work. Barrow's already scheduled a press conference for tomorrow claiming no knowledge of Brooks's operation. And Stroud has conveniently taken medical leave."

"Distancing themselves before evidence connects them directly," Eve agreed, studying the map of political connections displayed on the main screen. "Classic corruption protocol."

The door opened as Dr. Ingrid Westfield entered, carrying a medical bag and a tablet. Her hair was pulled back in a practical bun, her expression professionally neutral despite the circumstances.

"I should have known you'd ignore medical advice," Ingrid said to Reagan, setting her bag on the table. "Since you're determined to kill yourself through stubbornness, I might as well check those sutures."

While Ingrid examined Reagan's wound, Detective Caroline Foster appeared from the communications room. In the three days sincethe gala, Foster had become Eve's most valuable departmental connection, risking her career to feed them information from inside.

"Martinez has doubled patrols in the harbor district," Foster reported, setting down a folder of printouts. "The official story is that Captain Morgan was abducted by the vigilante during the hospital escape. They're selling you as a hostage rather than an accomplice."

Eve wasn't surprised. "Easier for Brooks to explain my disappearance that way. A respected captain turning against the department undermines the whole system."

"Which is exactly what happened," Reagan pointed out with a faint smile that quickly turned to a grimace as Ingrid cleaned the wound.

"The wound is healing," Ingrid observed, "but you've torn two sutures. Any exertion could reopen them completely."

"Noted," Reagan replied, clearly with no intention of following the implied advice.

Sophia entered with Elena, both carrying equipment cases that they set on the operations table.

"Security feeds from the federal building are up," Elena reported. "Judge Stroud's chambers are under observation. The data we need is on his private server."

Sophia opened a laptop displaying schematics. "The most vulnerable access point is through the building's maintenance system. We'll need physical presence to breach the firewalls."

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