The next moan had me hard as a spike. I reached down and wrapped my hand around my cock, slowly pulling up as I listened intently for her. I dragged my fist back down and slowly slid up again, pre-cum leaking from my head smoothing the way.
And there she was again. It sounded like she was already close.
I closed my eyes and pictured her. I imagined what she would look like stripped bare. I would take that naked body and bend it over the foot of my bed, raising that heart-shaped ass to just the right height. Her pussy would be so pretty and pink and wet and just waiting for my cock. I could almost see my big hands on her curvy hips as I thrust into her slick heat. I would grab a handful of that dark blonde hair and arch her back just right to make her take me deeper.
Through the wall, I heard her wail her final “Oh my God!”
Fuck, she’s got the sexiest moan. I sped up my stroke and felt myself getting closer. And I imagined what she would look like when she comes. I imagined hearing her say my name in that uncontrolled moan. And that took me right over the edge. I groaned loud when I came, stroke after stroke jetting onto my stomach. When I stopped twitching and my hard-on was finally gone, I stared up at the ceiling for a long time.
‘Off limits, Jason,’ I thought to myself. I don’t know anything about kids and Emma is looking for a relationship, not a friendly fuck, which is all I need.
I sighed and reached for the box of tissues on my nightstand to clean up the majority of my mess before heading to the bathroom.
~Emma~
Some nights I would almost swear I heard a man moan. The timing is always in sync with me spending quality time with my vibrator, though – so it’s really more likely that my poor sex-starved body is projecting its own needs. Obviously, fantasizing about Jason has led my brain to “hear” him. Totally hot, but I have a feeling some people would think it’s time to commit me for hearing voices inside my own head….
Seriously, though. The orgasms I have just thinking about Jason are so much better than the orgasms I used to give myself while Dan was focused on his own happy ending. It’s so weird to think about that. I don’t even remember when we fell into that pattern. You take care of yourself and I’ll take care of myself and then everyone’s happy. I vaguely remember it making sense at some point…but wow. No wonder I didn’t even really notice how long our dry spell had become. How depressing is that? I vividly remember lying there making lists in my head and pretending to enjoy myself, too. I shake myself out of my reverie and stand up from my spot on the couch.
“Come on, Miss Mia, we need to go to the store.”
It always amazes me how fast she can destroy a room. It’s like a ninja skill they are granted around 8 months or so and it came with her ability to crawl. I laugh and sing with her – because preschool shows always have a song about cleaning up – and we finally get most of it put away.
Now that Mia is almost two, going shopping has new pitfalls, too. First, you can’t get the shopping cart too close to the shelves or she will pull one of everything right into the cart with her. (I made it home with three boxes of oatmeal that neither of us ate a few trips ago because I wasn’t paying attention when we checked out.) Two, there has to be a snack to eat while shopping – even if you ate right before you got to the store. Even an almost two-year-old recognizes fruit snacks at the grocery store. Three, there is a time limit, no matter how well you plan, and each child has a different limit…and it changes frequently.
Today, Mia hit her limit about the time we got to the checkout register. This is pretty good compared to some of our other trips, but it still means everyone at the front of the store knows she is ready to be done. And so am I.
“Mia, wanna hold Mommy’s keys?” I begged. She snatched the keys from my hand and immediately stuck the keychain in her mouth. This bought me about three minutes before she dropped the keys and wailed to the heavens about her torturous afternoon.
I hurriedly swiped my card and signed for our stuff before I grabbed the cart and almost ran from the store. Mia loves the cart while it’s moving, so she stopped crying long enough to yell “weeeeeeeeee” as we hustled out the doors to the parking lot.
While I threw all the bags into the back of my little SUV, I started to get that creepy sensation again. Like someone was watching me. I tried to look around without being too obvious as I haphazardly threw things into my car, trying to hurry. I didn’t see anyone paying any attention to me as I slammed the hatch closed and pushed the cart with Mia in it to the cart keeper. Still looking around, I pulled Mia out of the cart and quickly walked back to the car. I opted to get in the car next to her seat and locked us in while I buckled her into her car seat. I have never felt as nervous or worried in a parking lot before. I don’t know what’s come over me lately.
I crawled over the seats and got the car started, carefully watching the parking lot around me. We backed out and I decided to take the long way back to the building, just so I can keep an eye on who’s around us. Like one of those old detective shows, I drove cautiously and kept an eye on my rearview mirror the entire way.
Nothing. I couldn’t see anyone following us – even when I took random turns onto side streets. I made a full circle around our building before pulling into the unloading zone in front of the building. No strange cars. No funny feelings.
Maybe my nightly orgasms are killing brain cells, I smirk to myself.
But I think I will look for that pepper spray tonight.
Chapter 4
~Jason~
“Hey, Tex,” I greeted one of the ex-Army Rangers working at RED-Stone. We’ve worked together several times and he’s a good guy – quiet, wicked smart and one of the best shots I’ve seen. “Any idea what’s behind the meeting this afternoon?”
“Bourne,” he reached out to shake my hand. “No idea, man. I’ve spent more time on bullshit recon this week than anything else. And none of it gave us anything fucking worth having.” He was frustrated and it struck a chord with me.
“The new guy – Brody? – had me out chasing ghosts a couple of nights, too. I told John he needs to ditch that fucker, but I don’t think he’s done it yet.”
“Yeah, it was the new guy. Had all this excellent intel and just needed me to confirm locations and activity and it was all a fucking waste of time. His intel was shit and I was up three nights in a row watching empty buildings. Empty fucking buildings. Jesus.” He took his ever-present Stetson off his head and rubbed a hand over his head.
I clapped him on the shoulder. “The second one he sent us out on was making t-shirts for fucking college football games. I still can’t believe that shit. Look, we’ll grab John when we’re done here and see what’s what, yeah? None of us have time for that kind of shit.” We headed toward the main conference hall. Before we walked in, I pause. “Hey – Jax and Rio are back in town. We were talking about poker night. You want in?”
“If y’all are willing to lose all your money, I’m always happy to take it.”
“Fuck you, Tex. You’re buying the pizza. I’ll bring the beer.” Tex just laughed at me.
When we walked into the biggest conference room at RED-Stone, it was immediately obvious that this wasn’t a typical meeting. In addition to the ten to twelve guys from RED-Stone, there were suits. Four of them most-likely CIA and three more that were FBI, one of which I’d worked with in the past. Looked like this case just got more interesting.
I listened as John introduced the suits – I was right about the CIA/FBI numbers, seriously, the suits and ties give them away – and then got down to the point of the meeting.
“As you all know, we’ve been following leads in an effort to track down Anderson Patzkowsky. RED-Stone was hired to find him by a private party with a vested interest in his activities being halted.” John looked around the room and his gaze stopped on none other than Mr. Can’t-tell-my-ass-from-a-hole-in-the-ground Brody. “Recent surveillance on less-than-stellar leads that came into our office led to us coming to the attention of
the FBI – who was already looking into Patzkowsky’s whereabouts.”
Damn! I slid a hand up so that my fingers covered most of my lower face in an effort to keep from smiling as John called the new guy a dumbass in the middle of an inter-agency meeting.
It was no secret that RED-Stone worked really hard to stay under the radar of the government. That whole “it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission” is kind of a company motto. We go in and do what needs to be done to get the results we are paid to get – and then we turn over what needs to be dealt with by someone higher up the food chain to the appropriate agency. And that’s why getting noticed by the FBI makes us look like dumb fucks. Thank you very much, BRODY.
The meeting moved on to the typical show-and-tell of surveillance photos, mug shots and heavily redacted agency reports. Because, while they expect us to spill our guts and share everything we know, they have zero plans to reciprocate.
I tuned in again as John leaned forward and said, “I have a couple of guys in mind for the recon aspect of this.” As one of the agency guys started to interject, John waved him off and continued. “No offense, but your guys have been working on this case for a hell of a lot longer than we have and you have jack shit to show for it. My guys are highly trained and are probably more adept at this than 90% of your field guys. They should get first crack at this.”
The ringleader for the CIA group got a little red around the collar and stood, leaning over the table – an intimidation tactic that is pretty ineffective in this crowd. “You seem to be forgetting that you have no sway in these decisions. Your guys are a bunch of roughneck gunslingers who play vigilante on the weekends and you think they’ve got an edge over my highly trained operatives?”
John stood up at that point, Mr. CIA was a good 5 inches shorter than John. So, not intimidating at all now.
“Bourne. Tex. Identify yourselves for these gentlemen.”
I wiped my face of all expression and stood up from my chair. I locked my arms behind my back and assumed parade rest. Tex mirrored my stance. I waited for him to go first since he outranked me.
“Captain Justin Wilson. 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. Retired. Three tours in Afghanistan, three tours in Iraq, classified black ops.”
“Chief Petty Officer Jason Davies. Former Platoon Chief, SEAL team 5. Operation Black Mamba, Operation Black Widow, Operation Seven Seas, Operation –“
One of the FBI suits interrupts my recital, “I think we get the picture. I am familiar with both of your jackets. As I recall, Davies, you received some impressive awards before unexpectedly taking a hardship out and leaving the SEALs. I look forward to working with you in person. I imagine your credentials are more than adequate to satisfy my friends at the CIA, yes?” He looked over at the CIA crew who are all seated and looking embarrassed.
John took over again, “Good. Now that the pissing match is over, maybe we can come up with a game plan to get this over with sooner rather than later….” The next few hours were spent going over strategies and backup plans.
Hours later, I was finally home. There are some days when being “in the office” is more draining than a day in the field sweating your ass off. Today was one of those days. Mentally, I’ve already checked out for the day, but I’ve been sitting still for too long.
I stared at the table I just threw my keys on and decided I need to use the last few hours of daylight to go for a run and clear my head. I changed into my athletic shorts and my favorite Brooks running shoes. These babies have maybe another hundred miles in them and then they’re toast. But they keep my feet happy, so I’m okay splurging on a new pair every four months. I fastened my chest strap around me to log my exertion stats, strapped my phone to my upper arm and looped my earbuds around my neck. Using the coded lock on my door so I don’t have to carry a key, I headed downstairs.
Over an hour and twenty minutes and ten miles later, I’m sucking wind as I bend at the waist and brace my hands on my knees. I’m off today – my time wasn’t great and I was straining that last mile. Better lay off the pizza and beer for a while. Getting older definitely has its drawbacks and I sure as hell am not going to let one of the young guys on my team beat my ass the next time we end up in a foot race. They’re too cocky by half already. Getting beaten by an older guy is good for their character. Not that 37 is old, but working with twenty-somethings can make it feel that way.
I stood up and headed toward the water fountain then paused when I saw a familiar little face in the sandbox ahead. I scanned the benches nearby and found her pretty mama, too. At that moment, Emma glanced up and saw me. Well. She glanced up and saw… something she liked. I smirked as I waited for her eyes to finally finish their slow journey up to my face. When recognition flashed over her pretty features, my smile got bigger and she knew she was busted. She flushed bright red and gave me a little wave before she turned her attention back to Mia.
After guzzling water like a dying man at the water fountain and standing under the mister until my shorts are dripping water down my legs, I made my way to the bench where Emma was sitting.
“Can I sit with you for a little bit?”
Emma jerked just a bit, apparently not realizing I was standing beside her, and avoided looking me in the eyes as she said, “Sure. That’s fine. Of course. I’m just…sitting here….” Her rosy red glow returned as she rambled.
I smiled at her and sat down leaving a space between us so I wouldn’t get her wet. She glanced at my chest before jerking her gaze away from me again. I laughed in my head. This girl is really good for my self-confidence.
Mia noticed me sitting by her mom and started running toward us yelling “Hi!” over and over again. As she was almost to the sidewalk where we were, she tripped. I saw it almost in slow motion and lunged forward to stop her from face planting right in front of us. When I saw her scared face as I jerked her up from her fall, I went with my gut and tossed her a few feet into the air and smiled at her.
“Gotta slow it down, munchkin. Be careful, okay?”
Emma was by my side and took Mia for just a minute – more to reassure herself that she was fine than for Mia’s sake, I think.
Emma met my eyes over Mia’s head and said, “Thank you, Jason. That would have been a rough fall for her.”
Mia struggled to get down from Emma’s arms and Emma set her down on the sidewalk.
“I’m just glad we weren’t further away or I wouldn’t have been able to reach her fast enough. Lucky timing.”
Mia grabbed her sippy cup and ran back to the sandbox to play as Emma and I sat back down on the park bench.
“So…. Do you run every day?” Emma asked as she kept her gaze on Mia.
“Not every day, though I should. I try to get in 35 miles each week in addition to the gym time I have to put in for weight training and other stuff.”
Emma’s mouth was hanging open just a little. “Thirty-five miles each WEEK? Holy cow! I mean, I work out when I can but I don’t think I could run ONE mile without knowing it was a terrible idea. Of course, it makes sense that you run like that AND do other training because you wouldn’t look like that if you… didn’t….” She trailed off as her face flushed red again.
I smiled at her as she fought to keep her eyes anywhere but on me again. She’s so cute when she’s flustered. “Keeping up with my training is part of my job, so me looking like this is just a side benefit, I guess. I’m glad you approve.” I teased her with my last comment and her cheeks fired up even brighter.
As I was about to ask what she was doing for dinner, my phone started to ring. I apologized and pulled the strap off my arm to answer it.
“Bourne,” I answered. It was Tex. He had the rifle range all to himself tonight and wanted to test out some new equipment John had brought in for the case we’re working on. “That sounds like a good plan, Tex. I’ll head home and clean up and be on my way within the hour.” We said goodbye and I turned back to Emma.
Emma tilted her head and asked, “I
thought your last name was Davies…?”
“It is.”
“But… you answered your phone ‘Bourne.’”
“’Bourne’ was my call sign in the Navy. I got stuck with it when I was in BUD/s training – SEAL training – and, being called by that name for fifteen years, it bled over into my new job, too.”
“Why did they call you that?”
I laughed softly and scrubbed my hand over my face. “Call signs and nicknames in the military are a funny thing. They’re absolutely necessary when we go on missions, but most of us don’t get to pick our own – which means the stories behind them can be embarrassing as hell…. Mine isn’t awful, considering everything, they could have called me a lot worse, but it isn’t what I would have picked for myself.”
“When I was younger, I took a lot of martial arts classes. It was fun and my parents thought I needed the added discipline in my life to keep me on the straight and narrow – they were right, I was always pushing my limits. Anyway, I already had a couple of black belts before I got into the Navy, so I was ahead of the game when it came time for hand-to-hand combat training. About the same time I was going through that training, a movie came out about a black ops assassin who gets shot and wakes up with amnesia -- ”
Emma smiled and said, “I love that series! Matt Damon is amazing in those movies!”
I laughed. “Well. When I got in the ring with the instructor, my background made blocking his attacks pretty easy. To the other guys, it looked like a choreographed fight, apparently. Combined with the fact that they had all just watched that movie and that my first name is Jason, they started calling me Bourne after that character in the movie – and then it became my call sign…. So….”
“Wow. So. I mean…wow. Okay. I feel safer living next door to you now.” Emma laughed self-consciously. She obviously just didn’t know what to say.
Bourne to Love Emma (RED-Stone Operatives Book 1) Page 4