Bourne to Love Emma (RED-Stone Operatives Book 1)

by Paxton, MacKenzie K.

  And then I remembered.

  I sat up in bed and yanked open the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out my vibrator. I smiled to myself in the dark as I looked forward to finding what I’d been missing lately.

  I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them off the side of the bed. I pulled my tank top off for good measure. Naked and aroused, I leaned back against my pillow and dragged the vibrator through the moisture between my legs to get it ready for me. It was colder than I expected, so I repeated the movement a few times to warm it up and drench it completely. I clicked the button at the base and rubbed the vibrator around my engorged clit. I moaned at how good the new sensation really was.

  Nearly shaking in anticipation, I slid the vibrator back down to my entrance and circled it once. Twice. Then I slowly began to slide it inside my pussy. Slowly I sunk it in – an inch at a time – until all six inches of it were buzzing inside me. It had been so long since I had felt…full. And it was wonderful.

  I switched hands, sliding my left hand away from the nipple I had been rubbing and down to the base of the vibrator. I brought my right hand back up to my clit. It only took two strokes of the vibrator dragging along my inner walls and two tiny circles around my clit to bring me to the home stretch. I moaned as I built a rhythm with the vibrator and my fingers, in and out, around and over. I increased the pressure of my fingers passing over my clit and shortened my stroke as my leg muscles began to quiver. A few more passes and I hurtled over the finish line.

  As I hit my peak, I moaned loud and long. “Oh my God!” My abs and thighs clenched and my body electrified as I had the best orgasm I could remember having in years.

  After several moments, I pulled the vibrator from my body, shivering as it passed over my now sensitive flesh. I switched it off and held it against my belly as my breathing returned to normal. My heart was beating ridiculously hard and I couldn’t wipe the huge grin off my face if I tried. Damn, I thought, why the heck did I wait so long to get one of these?

  After getting up to clean myself and the vibrator off, I put my panties and tank top back on and checked in one final time to be sure Mia was sleeping well. Then, I got back in bed and fell asleep feeling better about almost everything. It was amazing what a good orgasm could cure.

  ~Jason~

  I swung the door to my apartment closed and dropped my bags on the kitchen table. I was exhausted. The stakeout tonight was the second wild goose chase in a fucking week and my team was back at square one. I should have demanded to do my own damned electronic recon before I agreed to head out. Instead, two of my guys and I spent almost six hours sitting in the dark, sweating our asses off so we could do surveillance on a building that had nothing more going on than a silk screening business making shirts for fucking college football games. Football games. Un-fucking-believable.

  It still surprises me how exhausting it can be when you’re sitting completely still for so long. The level of mental awareness, your body being prepared to leap into action at any second, running scenarios in your head, keeping your team alert…the fatigue when the constant adrenaline wears off is incredible.

  The new guy who was responsible for this mess probably wouldn’t make it another week in the office. In fact, I planned to make that my own personal mission. This was his second fuck up with me. I may not actually forgive one total fuck up, but I can put it behind us if you figure your shit out. But you don’t get to make two without some consequences. Since he’s not actually on my team, I didn’t get to dictate the consequences this time, but I know John and he and I aren’t that different. I can only hope he fires the guy completely because that’s the only real solution as far as I can see.

  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed to the bedroom. Once I got there, I stripped down to my boxer briefs and sat down on the side of the bed. I sat still, absorbing the quiet of my apartment as I tried to organize my thoughts and clear my head. As I took a drink, I heard what sounded like a muffled moan. I sat completely still, waiting to pinpoint the sound. Shortly, I heard it again and realized it is coming from the other side of the wall – in Emma’s apartment. For a minute, I contemplated knocking on the wall and asking if she was okay, but then I heard a longer, louder moan accompanied by “Oh my God!” My dick instantly grew hard at the sound.

  Am I sitting here listening to her have sex next door? Though the thought of some other man fucking her didn’t sit well with me, that possibility didn’t do anything to rid me of the boner I got as soon as I realized I just heard little Emma Parsons cum. I hadn’t heard anyone else – so maybe she was alone. The idea of her pounding her tight pussy with that hot pink vibrator turned my dick to stone. Damn.

  After a few minutes with no further sound, I downed the rest of my beer and headed to the shower. Once I got in the shower, though, I couldn’t get the sweet sound of her moans out of my head. I stroked my hand down my chest and fisted my erection – my own moan bouncing off the shower walls. I stroked myself while I pictured Emma on her knees in the shower with me and all the things she could probably do with that mouth of hers. I closed my eyes and stroked my heated flesh, pumping my dick over and over again.

  Imagining her sucking my dick and loving every second of it was enough to bring me to the edge. I felt my balls draw up and the electric buzz shot up my spine. When I came, I slapped a palm against the wall to hold myself up as the force of it threatened to knock me over. As my cum ran down the shower wall, I decided that it was about time for me to get to know my neighbor.

  Chapter 3

  ~Emma~

  “Hi, Carla. How was my big girl today?” I had just walked in the door from a day in a client’s office and was thankful to be home. Mia turned toward me as soon as she heard my voice and ran to me. I picked her up and squeezed until she squeaked and laughed. Sometimes being away from her for just a few hours can seem like forever. She’s growing so fast these days. I worry I’m going to miss the important moments if I’m not paying attention.

  Mia put her hands on my cheeks, looked deep into my eyes and pressed a big, fat, WET kiss on my mouth, proclaiming, “MAMA! Hi!”

  “Emma, she is growing like a weed. She ate all day long and refused to take her nap. Hopefully that means she will sleep for her mama tonight.” Carla laughed as I set Mia down and she ran back to her mess in the living room floor. Board books and blocks and toy cars were strewn everywhere. Every surface had something on it and I could see a few cars hiding under the edge of the sofa and love seat, too.

  Carla Martinez and her husband Miguel lived one floor below my apartment. When I first moved in, Heather’s fiancé, John, recommended her when I needed to find someone to keep Mia every now and then when I needed to really focus on writing or had to travel, like today. Miguel had worked for John for many years and, now that their own kids were grown and living on their own, Carla was overjoyed at the prospect of having a baby in her arms again.

  “Well, I’m going to take her to the park for a little while before dinner – so maybe the extra dose of fresh air will tire her out.” I can’t help but smile at my daughter. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

  “Okay, Miss Mia,” Carla said. Mia looked up at her and smiled her biggest smile. “Let’s clean up this mess and you can go play at the park!”

  Mia looked at me and said, “Pah?” Uh-huh. She knew that word.

  “Yes, ma’am! We can go to the park as soon as we pick up all of your toys! Gotta clean up, baby.” All three of us soon had the toys picked up and put away. I grabbed her diaper bag and strapped her into the stroller in the hallway.

  “Tell Mrs. Martinez bye-bye,” I told her. We laughed as Mia waved with one hand and tried to blow kisses with her other hand. In no time, we were out of the building and soaking up the sunshine. I always made plans to get outside more with Mia when we do this – but my job keeps me inside most of the time and it’s so easy to get caught up in our routine.

  We spent an hour at the par
k. Mia and another little boy, Billy, took turns dumping sand on each other, laughing and squealing. His mother, Sandra, and I had to remind them not to dump it over their heads, knowing the dumpee would end up leaving the park screaming when it got in their mouth or eyes. Fortunately, they felt like listening this time.

  Sandra and I had met before at this park. She’s a single mother, too, so we both enjoyed the interaction and the small break of being able to sit and chat while our kids were safe just a few feet away but entertaining themselves. Sandra is a kindergarten teacher. Fortunately, her ex-husband pays his child support on time and actually tries to stay involved in his life. That’s something Mia will never have.

  When I told Mia it was time to go, she cried. And told me ‘no.’ Because, yeah, she’s my daughter. She learned that word early on and it was the third word she mastered after Mama and Hi. Lovely, isn’t it?

  I was able to distract her with some goldfish crackers from the diaper bag (thank you, Carla!) and got her back into the stroller for our trek back to the apartment building.

  As I was waiting for the light to turn so we could cross at the crosswalk, a shiver ran up my spine and that creepy feeling that you’re being watched kind of freaked me out. I looked around and noticed a dark blue car a few parking spaces down with someone in the drivers’ seat. The glare of the late afternoon sun kept me from seeing if it was a man or woman – or if they were even looking at me at all – but the icky feeling didn’t go away until after we hustled across the intersection and had turned onto the street where our building was located.

  Our last apartment was in a pretty bad neighborhood – since that was all I could afford at the time – and Heather had made me promise to carry pepper spray when I was out with Mia. It made me feel better back then, but I never felt like it was necessary here. We had good security in our building and there were always so many people out and about on the nearby streets that I stopped carrying without even really consciously making the decision. But maybe now’s a good time to figure out where I put it when we moved here.

  When the doorman at our apartment building greeted us with a smile, I felt so much better that I actually laughed at myself for getting so worked up over a shiver and someone sitting in a car at the park. How often did I sit in my car checking e-mail or replying to a text? I shook my head at myself as we stopped to check the mail before heading to the elevator.

  Seriously, when did I become so paranoid?

  ~Jason~

  I always end my run at the park around the corner from the apartment building. Number one, because it had a misting station and a water fountain that actually gets cleaned by the city often enough to trust it… for the most part. Number two, because there is peace sitting on the grass under a tree in the middle of a green space that you don’t get often in a big city. I miss wide open spaces. I miss hammocks slung between two trees and barbecue cookouts with neighbors who have to drive to your house. But life hasn’t ended there for me – at least not yet.

  As I walked slowly, winding my way through the trees and toward the intersection to cross the street, my heart rate slows and my breathing steadies. I checked my stats on my Garmin and gave myself a mental pat on the back. I’m not as young as I used to be – and I spend way too much sedentary time in front of my computer screens – but I kept my 8 mile run under 58 minutes. And that included having to wait at a handful of intersections for traffic. My smile stuck with me as I made my way down the street.

  As I was about to cross the street in front of the apartment entrance, I notice a guy sitting in a parked car a few car lengths up the street. I take a step toward the street to see his plate number, make a mental note of the make and model. On the off chance that he’s hanging around for a reason and I see him again, I’ll be able to run his plates and figure out if someone else needs to know about him.

  I said hello to the doorman, Jim, as I walk inside. Jim has worked here for a long time. Knowing he’s keeping an eye on things when I’m not here makes me feel better about things. He was hand-picked by John. He and Frank, the head of security, are the only ones who are aware of how many RED-Stone operatives call this building home at least part-time. At this point, I’d guess maybe a dozen men and women under his umbrella live here – at least when they’re stateside. There are twelve apartments per floor with the elevator bank in the center. Ten floors total less the ground floor which is office space and the lobby; there are 108 apartments here. The 90% of the tenants who aren’t RED-Stone just get to enjoy living in a building where they are safer than almost anywhere else and they have no idea how deep that background check actually went before they were cleared to move in.

  I saw a woman pushing a stroller into the elevator and yell “hold the elevator” as I jogged across the lobby. I raised a hand to Frank, our security head, as I stepped inside and found myself face to face with Emma. All I can say is: thank god part of my training is keeping my thoughts from showing on my face – because I had no idea she had a kid.

  “Hey, Emma. Nice to see you again,” I said as she pushed the button for our floor. I smiled down at the kid in the stroller since she was staring up at me as she shoved a yellow fish-shaped cracker in her mouth.

  Emma smiled nervously, her cheeks turning rosy red, and replied, “Hi, Jason. Nice to see you, too.”

  Even though I now have to label her as off-limits because of the kid, I can’t help but smile a little bigger when I caught her taking a good look at my sweaty chest. I work hard to stay in shape, so it really isn’t just me being cocky when I say the ladies generally like what I’ve got to offer.

  The little girl pointed her finger at me and said, around a mouthful of orange mush, “what dat?”

  Emma laughed and said, “This is my daughter, Mia.”

  “Hi, Mia. It’s nice to meet you,” I said as I squatted down and offered my hand to her. She smiled big, drool dribbling down her chin. She reached out and grabbed my hand and, faster than I would have thought the little monkey could move, she had the side of my hand in her mouth, covering me in partially chewed cracker and baby drool. When I jerked my hand back from her mouth, she immediately started to cry.

  Emma began apologizing, nearly in a panic as she dug in the huge bag over her shoulder. I can’t help it. It was seriously the funniest thing that had happened to me all day and Mia was still crying like I kicked her puppy. I started laughing. I laughed so hard my eyes watered and Mia and Emma both stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

  Emma went back to digging in her bag and Mia started laughing with me – which just made me laugh more. The elevator doors opened while Emma was still digging, so I used my clean hand to push the stroller off the elevator and down the hallway toward her apartment.

  “Emma. It’s fine. I promise this is not the grossest thing that gets on my hands most days.”

  “I thought you did I.T. for a living,” she said as she handed me a wet wipe.

  “I do a lot of computer work, yes. But I do other stuff, too. And sometimes it gets dirty.” I smiled at her. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a technical writer for Emerson-Days publishing. I do a lot of writing for pharmaceutical companies and some different equipment manufacturers. I’ve worked on a few high-level textbooks and I write a lot of research procedure manuals. It’s not always the most interesting work, but it lets me keep my own hours most of the time and work from home, so I’m close to Mia. The pay’s good, too.” Emma actually put her own hand over her mouth and turned bright red. “Sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? I asked you what you did for a living and you answered me. I’m glad you have a job that works for you. Being close to Mia is important to you and that makes your job important, too.”

  At that, Mia started fussing again.

  “I better let you girls get dinner. It really was nice to see you again.”

  Emma smiled up at me again – she really is a gorgeous woman – and turned to unlock her door. “It was nice to see you, too, Jason.”
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  I stood there as she pushed Mia inside and winked when she glanced back at me.

  “Don’t forget to lock up,” I said. As if a grown adult female needed me to tell her that. Idiot.

  Emma smiled again and said “goodnight” as she shut the door. Once I heard the locks engage I headed back to my apartment.

  I grabbed two bottles of water and an orange and sat down in front of my computer. I’ve got new footage to review – about 45 minutes of it needs to be torn down and reviewed under higher resolution with a different contrast. I peeled my orange and got down to work.

  Part of my job at RED-Stone is making all of the available tools out there for possible reconnaissance actually usable for our teams. In layman terms, I’m a hacker. And I’m damn good at my job. I can find a camera that is installed and monitored for a business and divert and split the feed so I can see it, too. What this means for my team is that I can access any electronic surveillance equipment out there without us having to go install it ourselves. The real trick to being a master at my job is being able to find the holes in a system so that I can access what I want without being caught. Anyone can hard hack a system if they aren’t worried about who knows they were there. The real finesse comes in being completely invisible, even when they’re looking for you.

  Almost two hours later, after sending the updated footage back to the office, I stripped and hopped in the shower. Physically, I was beat. Mentally, I wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. For me, that automatically meant it was time for SportsCenter.

  I crawled into bed, plumped the pillow behind my back and grabbed the remote. But, as I was about to turn on the television, I heard her. Her moans might have been muffled, but I would recognize them anywhere now.