Bourne to Love Emma (RED-Stone Operatives Book 1) (4 page)

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.

~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, 75
^th
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.

Mia wandered back over to us held her
hands up to me.  I looked at Emma, not sure what to do.  She laughed.

“She wants you to pick her up.  I
think she’s finally worn out.”

I picked Mia up and stood to carry
her to the stroller while Emma was packing everything into her diaper bag, preparing
to leave.  I leaned over to put her inside and Mia patted me on the cheek and
smiled up at me.  I smiled back at her and leaned down to kiss her on the
cheek.  She giggled and reached for her teddy bear as she snuggled back into
the seat.