Code Name: Genesis

by Sawyer Bennett

  Joslyn’s hand latches onto my wrist just before my fingers reach her promised land and halt my progress. With her eyebrows drawn inward and her tone clipped, she asks, “What were you talking about when you asked Rachel if Bebe has any clue? Any clue about what?”

  Christ, she’s adorable, coming to Bebe’s defense without even really knowing if she’s in trouble. All Joslyn heard was Rachel and I are hiding something, and now she’s ready to go all hell-cat on us. More importantly, she means to deny my fingers entrance to her slick heat.

  “Relax, kitten, and sheath those claws,” I tease her in a gruff voice. I easily break her hold, then slide a long finger inside of her. Her hips shoot upward, and she groans. “I just arranged for Bebe’s mom and son to fly to Vegas to surprise her.”

  Joslyn’s hand slaps onto my wrist, holding me tight in place. I could move if I wanted to, but by the expression on her face, I’m powerless to do anything but stare.

  She’s giving me a look of such utter respect and tenderness, it makes my chest feel like it’s on fire while, oddly, making my dick harder than ever. I realize… I want to see that look from her every day, wondering what I’d have to give a woman like her just for a single momentary glimpse of it.

  Joslyn lays her palm on my cheek. Her thumb grazes it gently. “You are an incredible man, Kynan.”

  It’s more than I need to hear, and I’m not ready to confront the emotions her praise pulls forth. So I pull my finger out, add another, and start to pump. Joslyn’s eyes glaze over, expression morphing into a woman lost to the pleasure I can give her.

  And that’s enough for right now.

  CHAPTER 20

  Joslyn

  “What else do you want?” I ask Kynan as I lean over the island counter. I had just scribbled down “Cherry Garcia ice cream” on my shopping list.

  Kynan stares at his laptop on the opposite side. He’s perched there, looking incredibly yummy in just a tank top and workout shorts. We plan on hitting the gym first, then we’re going grocery shopping.

  Sort of like a couple, but not. He’s my bodyguard. But like a couple because he’s been very vocal about what items he wants.

  “Add some Smithwick’s, will you, love?” he asks, and I grin as I write down his request.

  It’s weird how we’ve settled into this oddly natural routine with each other the past three days since we… became intimate again.

  And intimate is exactly the word I’d use to describe the nature of our relationship now. Because what he did to me in that closet was equal parts lewd, erotic, and debasing. It was the most intimate connection I’ve ever had with another human being in my entire life.

  When he was behind me—in me—and we stared at each other in the mirror, not once breaking that connection until it was over, I realized Kynan is the only man I could hope to have that with. Our bond was forged twelve years ago, and I had once thought it was broken.

  It isn’t.

  It was only put on ice. Now, it’s been thawed and has since heated to nuclear proportions.

  Kynan and I have gone out to dinner each night. Somewhere swank, always where the paparazzi hang out. I’m trending under the hashtag #celebritycouples, and tongues are wagging about my quick and totally romantic engagement to my first true love. Of course… I’ve been wearing the sapphire ring whenever we go out—to lend credence to the story.

  In public, Kynan is doting, romantic, and affectionate.

  Privately, he is doting, romantic, and affectionate. It is no hardship for me to return the same to him. The animosity between us has simply faded.

  The nights are indescribable. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Does things to my body I didn’t know were possible. He’s been inside places I didn’t think I’d ever let a man, yet I find I crave him everywhere. Anywhere.

  Last night, he pressed a long finger inside my backside while he was fucking me, and I orgasmed immediately from the shock of it. Laughing darkly, he’d said he was going to fuck me back there one day. I was immediately turned on, horrified, and scared at the same time. But when he wants to do that, I’m going to let him.

  “Anything else you want me to add?” I ask one last time, while I scratch the word “lube” on my list. Why not?

  “No, that’s all,” he says. Closing his laptop, he smiles, and it reaches my heart. “Ready to go?”

  “In a minute. I want to check my email first.”

  “Okay,” he says, continuing to watch me as I move from behind the island. I walk into the great room, glance over my shoulder, and find Kynan still continuing to watch me.

  “What?” I ask with a laugh. “Why are you staring?”

  “Because I like it,” he replies cheekily.

  When I roll my eyes, his smile fades as his eyes glint dangerously.

  “Did you just roll your eyes?” he asks darkly.

  “What if I did?” I ask, swiveling to fully face him with a hand on my hip.

  “If you did,” he drawls while slowly standing from the kitchen stool. “I might just have to redden that ass.”

  I’ll never admit that every fiber in my being would like that. He spanked me the other night in between using my vibrator on me, and I lost count of how many times I came. Still, I shake my head. “We don’t have time. We have to get to the gym, the grocery store, dry cleaners, and then come back so I can start getting dinner ready for—”

  That’s as far as I get before Kynan lunges. I manage a half shriek before he’s lifted and thrown me across his shoulder, only to take two steps to the nearest couch where he tosses me down.

  Half an hour later, my ass is on fire and I have a smile on my face.

  ♦

  There’s a box sitting on my front porch when we pull into the driveway. I don’t say a word, but perhaps Kynan saw me imperceptibly tighten up or he just got a vibe from me, but he’s quick to reassure me. “That’s something I ordered.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “Because I have an app on my phone that alerts me when the cameras are triggered, so I saw the UPS man deliver it. Plus, I was expecting it.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see,” he says, turning the car off.

  Kynan insists on carrying all the grocery bags in the house, which is fine. My arms are noodles after our workout. Kynan is in impeccable shape, while I realized I need to work out a lot more consistently. I’m going to be sore tomorrow, which means I should probably schedule a massage. I have a meeting tomorrow with a producer who is doing a movie about the legendary Dolly Parton and wants to discuss my interest in the role.

  Although, “lack of interest” might be the better term. I was given the script a few weeks ago, and I passed on it. Making movies isn’t my thing. Frankly, I’m not sure I can pull Dolly off. She’s the queen. Legendary. I’m just… Joslyn Meyers.

  I follow Kynan into the kitchen. After he deposits the bags, I start going through them, putting things where they belong. He disappears, then returns with the cardboard box in his hand.

  “I had Rachel and Bebe working on a little project for me,” Kynan announces as he rummages in the drawer for a steak knife.

  He finds one, then deftly slices through the tape. From within, he pulls out a small box. I pause, stunned when a pair of silver earrings are revealed. “What are those?”

  “Earrings, kitten,” he replies with a smile.

  I start to roll my eyes—but stop upon realizing it will only sidetrack us further—and ask, “I can see that. But what are they for?”

  “For you.” He walks around the counter and approaches me, holding the jewelry out in the palm of his hand.

  I have to admit—they’re totally my style. A little funky and bohemian. Puffed silver squares with scrolled etchings in the metal that hang from a simple hook. I pick them up, surprised at how incredibly light they are.

  “Put them in,” Kynan orders me. “And only take them out to sleep. Otherwise, they stay in at all times.”

&n
bsp; “Why?” I put them on the counter for a moment so I can remove the tiny gold hoops in my ears.

  “Bebe fit them with a tracking device.”

  “Why would you need to track me?” I ask as I put the first one in.

  Kynan’s eyes turn cold and hard. “God help me. I don’t even want to imagine it, but if for some reason that bastard was able to get his hands on you, I wanted a tertiary plan to be able to find you.”

  “Tertiary? That’s the third plan. What’s the first and second?” The other earring slides right in. They’re so light I can’t feel them, and I’m immediately impressed with the technology.

  “First is he doesn’t get his hands on you,” Kynan growls before pulling another small box from the package. “If he does manage to get past me, I’ve got trackers for your phone and for the inside lining of your purse. This guy is smart, though, and I imagine he wouldn’t let you keep those for long.”

  And it suddenly hits me. While I trust Kynan implicitly, it’s become clear he’s not infallible. If my stalker gets me, it would mean Kynan was probably… dead.

  “Whoa there,” Kynan exclaims as my legs turn to jelly. He steps in to wrap his arms around my waist before I fall. “Got a little pale there, Jos.”

  I put my hands on his shoulders, my voice laced with a panic I can’t seem to quell. “You’re implying if he gets me, something terrible has happened to you. I can’t live with that, Kynan.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me, love,” he murmurs, dipping just a bit to put his face right in front of mine. “I promise.”

  “Then I don’t need these backup plans, right?” The hysteria seems to be rising as this question comes out sort of like a screech.

  Kynan smiles before pressing his mouth to mine. When he pulls back, he looks me right in the eye. “I am ninety-nine percent positive nothing is going to happen to me or you. But hypothetically, let’s just say I was to have a brain aneurysm at the same exact time this guy tried to make a move. In that extremely specific instance, I want a backup plan as well as a backup plan to that plan, okay?”

  “It’s not funny,” I grouse, trying to push him away. “It just suddenly hit me… you’re in as much danger as I am. I mean, he could be waiting in the bushes for me and have a gun. He could shoot you or something.”

  “Joslyn,” he says softly, but the soothing tone isn’t working. I feel dizzy. “Take a deep breath, love. Nice deep breath.”

  I do so, letting it out slowly.

  “Again,” he urges me.

  My lungs expand as I draw in a breath, hold it a moment with my eyes closed, then let it out again.

  When I open my eyes, Kynan’s face is all I see. It’s awash with empathy.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I don’t want to be a baby about all this. I just… it never hit me that we might not win, and—”

  “We’re going to bloody well win,” Kynan growls. “I swear to fuck, Joslyn. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you.”

  My breath rushes out, some I’d been holding onto deep in my chest. I manage a smile, although it doesn’t really match how I feel on the inside. I even nod in agreement, because I don’t want him worrying about me.

  I let myself lean forward—fall really—into his chest, and I take comfort in the way he wraps his arms around me. In protection. “I know. I trust you.”

  I revel in the security only for a moment. Truly not wanting him to worry, I pull away and give him a confident smile. “I’m going to go grab a shower before I start dinner.”

  “I could join you in the shower,” he suggests with a leering grin, his hands dropping to my hips to hold me in place. “Then help you with dinner.”

  I like this idea a lot. Despite knowing this man for over twelve years and being intimate with him on countless occasions, we have never taken a shower or a bath together. My smile turns brighter. “Deal. I’m just going to check my email first. I got sidetracked earlier when you insisted on reddening my ass. Mom was going to send me a recipe I want to try tonight.”

  “I’ll go get the shower running,” he says, giving a light slap to said ass. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply dryly.

  Kynan heads to the master suite, and I go to my office. It takes only a second for me to pull my laptop out of sleep mode and open up Gmail.

  Mom’s email is at the top, the subject line reading “Apple Hickory Pork Loin”.

  “Perfect,” I murmur, moving the cursor to open it so I can print the recipe, but something catches my eye.

  It’s the email right below.

  The subject line says, “Naughty Girl”.

  I focus on the sender. The email address is nondescript, and I don’t recognize it—waxon42@gmail.com

  It’s the “Naughty Girl” that has my blood turning cold. My hand shakes as I slide my finger over the track pad and double click to open the email.

  I quickly scan over the words, and nausea rises within me.

  You’ve been a very naughty girl, Joslyn. Actually hiring someone to try to thwart me. But don’t worry. I’m not mad about that—more like amused.

  What pisses me off is you think you belong to anyone but me.

  You are mine.

  And when I finally have you, I’m going to make you pay for letting another man touch you.

  Until we meet again…

  He’s coming. This is proof positive he’d taken the bait. It had pissed him off just as Kynan said it would.

  I should feel relieved. Instead, I’m terrified.

  “Kynan,” I call, raising my voice loud enough he should be able to hear it above the sound of the shower. Then I up the volume just a little more. “Kynan.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Kynan

  “Tell me you can find the fucker,” I growl as I pace the interior of Joslyn’s office with my phone in hand. She’s sitting in her desk chair, eyes glued on me.

  Bebe’s voice comes to me over the speaker on my phone. She’s remote accessed Joslyn’s computer to see the email from the Jameson offices in Vegas. “I’ll try, but I doubt I’ll have any luck. This guy has major skills. I’m sure he’s used a VPN or even the dark web to obscure his location.”

  Not good enough. “Bloody hell, Bebe. I sprung you from prison. You’ve got to give me more than ‘I can try’.”

  Joslyn’s eyes flare wide, because my tone is almost threatening in nature. Sighing, I prepare to apologize, but Bebe doesn’t seem fazed. Her voice is bland. “I can only do so much with the laptop you bought me, Kynan. You want me to locate this guy, then it’s going to take equipment you can’t buy on the open market.”

  That gets my attention. “But there is a way if I got you the right stuff?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she replies. “It’s all black-market stuff, which I’m sensing doesn’t matter to you. But it will take time, and I’m betting we don’t have that.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing my hand through my hair in agitation. Joslyn stands from her chair. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to start dinner,” she replies softly. “You don’t need me involved in this.”

  “Hold on, Bebe,” I say, then tap the “mute” button. Moving to Joslyn, I put my hand on her shoulder.

  Dipping my head, I put my eyes level with hers. “You okay?”

  Her smile is wan, but it doesn’t appear to be forced. “I’m fine. You’re doing your thing with Bebe, and you don’t need me in here for that. I’m better off staying busy, so I’ll go start dinner.”

  It’s hard for me to understand how just five minutes ago, I was turning on the shower in Joslyn’s master bath with about a million dirty thoughts in my head. Then her scream almost had my heart exploding. When I read that fucker’s email, I almost stroked out.

  It’s what I’d wanted to happen. I wanted to goad him into action, but now I have his undivided attention, I’m feeling a little unsure of just how prepared I am. Bebe not being able to wave a magic wand to fi
nd this guy by his email isn’t something I want to really hear right now.

  What I want is this guy’s address so I can track him down, probably beat him with my bare hands until he’s a bloody mess, and then haul him off to the police station.

  I pull Joslyn toward me, brush my mouth against hers, and murmur, “Don’t start dinner. We’re going out instead, so go ahead and hit the shower.”

  “We are?”

  “Yeah. If this guy is watching you closely as I suspect, I don’t want him to think this has you rattled in any way. I want him to see you strong, and he’s totally going to see us as a unit.”

  Joslyn sighs. She’s a little tired of all the hobnobbing and socializing we’ve done the last few days as we’ve splashed ourselves around the celebrity circuit. We had both been looking forward to a quiet evening in.

  But now her stalker is good and pissed, and I want to throw it in his face she’s not scared. We’re not intimidated.

  And if I’m lucky, he might make a move in public. I’ve got security on her house so tight the chances of him trying to attack her on this turf is unlikely. Him finding her on her own is more than unlikely because Joslyn’s not going anywhere outside this house without me or a suitable alternative.

  “Go on,” I urge, relieved when she goes to her tiptoes to put a kiss on my lips. It’s soft and lingering without a hint of sex, but it speaks volumes to me. She turns without another word, leaving her office.

  When she’s disappeared, I reconnect the call to Bebe. “I’m back. Listen… do the best you can. When you get a free moment, I want you to compile your dream list of equipment along with a rough estimate of the cost. And when I say dream list, I’m not just talking about for the stuff we’re doing now. Anything you can imagine that would give you access to anything we could ever dream of doing. Do you understand?”

  “As long as you’re not going to ask me to use this stuff for evil,” Bebe drawls, and it makes me laugh.

  “Do the best you can right now with what you have. Push whatever boundaries you need to. I’ve got your back.”