"Shelly, Jessica, wake up!"
Years of training and instinct kicked in. Shelly moved before her eyes were open. She rolled off the bed and hit the floor, looking for the source of the threat. Brooke stood at the foot of the bed and was the one who spoke. Bridgette stood by the door, a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other.
"What's going on?" Jessica asked with a yawn as she sat up, stretching her arms. Shelly watched as she blinked sleep from her eyes and looked around. Neither woman had redressed after their tryst last night. Jessica's breasts stood perfect on her chest, her nipples hard and proud in the cool underground air, except for a hickey or two that belied what had happened. The blanket they'd used to sleep with puddled around her waist, hiding the hickeys lower down. Shelly wondered if they shouldn't have been healed afterwards, but knew there were more important things to worry about.
