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

by Paxton, MacKenzie K.

  I kept thinking about him while I scrubbed all the dinner dishes and tidied the living room. It’s really too bad that it’s considered so rude to ask someone to stop talking so you can just stare at them for a minute. Not that I even asked him to stop talking – I was just kind of surprised to find HIM at my door.

  In the shower a little while later, I closed my eyes while I was running the washcloth over my skin and pulled that mental image back up for viewing. I wonder where his tan lines end. I bet he has those amazing V muscles from his hips to his groin. Mmmm. I bet he’s amazing in bed.

  Holding onto that picture of my neighbor, I let my soapy hand slide down my body to my slit. I rubbed a circle over myself and then slid my fingers to my clit and begin to draw them around and around. In no time, I was panting and moaning at the sensations rushing through my body. My strokes sped up, I steadied myself with one hand against the shower wall, added just a little more pressure behind my slippery fingers and I shattered.

  Once I rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, I felt a little guilty that I just came thinking about a guy I just met. He seemed like a nice enough guy, too... and HOT. What if I act like a total idiot around him if I run into him again? Wait. Been there, done that. Ha. Okay then.

  It wasn’t until I was crawling into bed later that night that I remembered the box Jason had handed to me. I threw the covers back and stood up to go get it when it hits me. It’s the box. The box he opened because he thought it was his. The box that contained… my brand spanking new vibrator. My brand new, hot pink, ribbed-for-my-pleasure, adjustable speed, waterproof, guaranteed-to-give-me-amazing-orgasms vibrator. That has now been seen by my neighbor. My very HOT neighbor.

  “Son of a…! You have GOT to be kidding me,” I said as I smacked myself in the head with the box. Maybe it was time to move….

  Chapter 2

  ~Jason~

  Today was one of those days when you realize that working crazy hours most weeks and spending the others locked in a room staring at a dozen monitors can be a really bad thing. Not that I don’t love my job or wish that part of my life was different really, but I really do tend to become a hermit when I’m locked up in the middle of a project that requires my computer skills more than being in the field. I enjoy both sides of it, really: the hacking appeals to my brain and finding creative ways to get around a roadblock; the field work is an adrenaline rush and takes me straight back to being in the SEALs – it takes strategy, planning and complete focus.

  This whole thing was just kind of surreal, really. When I’d come home yesterday and started working my way through the boxes piled just inside my door, I was watching the highlight reel on the sports channel more than paying attention to what was in the boxes - until I pulled out the vibrator. I have no idea how long I just sat there staring at the hot pink dick-shaped toy with no idea what to do with it or how it ended up in my hand. Once my brain finally kicked into gear, I figured out which box it had been inside and realized what had happened. The box was addressed to E. Parsons in the apartment next door.

  Who knew my new neighbor was hot? I knew someone moved in a few months ago but, since the office would have already done a background check on her before she was cleared to move in, I’d never really thought much of it. Other than hearing an alarm clock on mornings when I was still up working and randomly noticing the sounds of a television or talking – muted but discernible – I really hadn’t even noticed anyone living next door and assumed it was just one person. Now I’m wishing I’d paid more attention.

  I assumed the neighbor would be embarrassed by the situation and considered just leaving it at her door without waiting for her to answer, but I felt compelled to explain why she shouldn’t be concerned that a stranger had opened her mail and that it was an accident. And then… she answered the door. She was small – not just compared to my own 6’4” build – but short in general, maybe 5’4” or so. Her dark blonde hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, her pale skin was damp with sweat and dotted with freckles across her shoulders and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes – once she finally looked into my own – were bright blue and a little embarrassed to be caught checking me out. She was fit but on the curvy side, thank God she gave me a good look in that work out attire, and I was amazed that I’d never noticed her around before. Because she was definitely someone I’d notice. And by notice, I mean NOTICE. All parts of me would’ve stood at attention if I’d run across her before.

  Oddly enough, when I handed her the box, she seemed unaffected. I was the one who was embarrassed to be handing over a plastic dick – especially once I saw the body it was going to be sliding into. Embarrassed because, from the moment she opened the door to me, I’d wanted to offer to help her out so she wouldn’t need the damn thing. Even when I added my comment about meeting her being all my pleasure, she hadn’t batted an eye.

  I have no idea if she lives alone or is in a relationship or has a roommate. Of course, I’d never let a little something like a lack of information stop me from finding all the answers. I’d know everything there is to know about her soon enough.

  If she had any idea what I do for a living, she would already know what I am going to do. All of my extensive abilities, if I do say so myself, are about to be used to find out everything there is to know about Emma. I have always been a big believer in the old adage that “knowledge is power” - and I never walk onto the field without knowing I’m going to win.

  “Alright, Emma, let’s find out what makes you tick.” I sat down at my desk and multiple screens on the wall and three of the desk monitors began opening programs and I started filling in what I know about her at this point. As I was coding specifics into the system, my cell phone started ringing – and the ringtone let me know immediately that my evening plans were about to change. Adrenaline rushed through me as I snatched my phone from my desk.

  “Bourne.”

  Within moments, I was gathering supplies for my new assignment. A grim smile crossed my face as I hung up the phone. I had things to do. It looked like my plans for Emma Parsons would have to wait a while. I left the system doing its thing, knowing the report it would pull before I got back would tell me everything I need to know.

  Ten minutes later, I was pulling my SUV out of the parking garage. I’m usually on my own for recon like this but, tonight, I had two guys who would be staking out secondary views of the same target. One of our sources leaked the location and time of a new shipment across town. If I hurry, I can get set up before full dark which will make it easier to pick my own position.

  I circled around the manufacturing plant, checking out the buildings on all sides. Even though one of the techs at the office made a recommendation on where to set up, I always do my own quick recon whenever possible. Not that our techs aren’t good at their jobs, just that I know I’m better.

  After I picked my spot on the roof to the East of the building we’re watching – which did happen to be the same one the tech recommended – I found an out of the way place to park my SUV and shouldered my duffle for the hike in. Sticking to the alleys and shadows along the buildings, I reached the alley I’m looking for. Once I shoved a dumpster a little closer – a little too loud for my taste – I’m able to climb on top of it and jump to grab the bottom of the fire escape ladder – also louder than I would like – and haul myself up. I stayed crouched and still for several minutes, making sure I haven’t attracted attention.

  Once I’m sure I’m clear, I silently made my way to the rooftop. Even though it wasn’t especially hot today, this bitch is scorching up here. I felt sweat start to bead on my back and slide down my spine. I gave myself one brief moment to curse this damn mission and the asshole we’re hunting – and he is an asshole of the first order.

  Anderson Patzkowsky: known drug trafficker associated with several of the deadliest cartels in South America and Russia. More than a few agencies had him flagged as a likely trafficker of other things – weapons, women, children…. He’s been on
the radar for Interpol and the FBI for several years now – but he finally pissed off someone in our neck of the woods who could care less about how he’s taken down, just that it happens ASAP. RED-Stone functions just outside the boundaries of the law – close enough to save our own ass for the most part, but far enough outside that we tend to ask forgiveness once a job is done rather than permission from the agencies who would give a damn.

  RED-Stone was founded by Steven Stone, a legendary former member of Delta Force. During his time in the Army, he regularly witnessed the instances where hostage and kidnapping victims weren’t rescued because the government couldn’t do it without risking massive political upset with whichever country was harboring the criminals. More than a few times, the risk was only warranted and green-lighted when the victim had relatives in positions of power or wealthy families who made political donations in an effort to recover their spouse or child.

  Once Stone left the Army – due to a medical retirement that left him with a permanent limp – he used his contacts in special forces to make contact with families who couldn’t get the government to act on their behalf. He recruited men and women who left the military with exceptional skills and abilities and hired them to continue doing what they did best – but for better pay and without the requirement that they perform every mission without asking questions. Missions were run with input from all parties. If someone was uncomfortable with an aspect of the existing strategy, it was discussed and reviewed or revised.

  One of Stone’s first recruits was John Winters, my boss and a former Marine sniper. When John recruited me, I asked what RED-Stone stood for: Recon, Exploit, Destroy. Recon the target, exploit that intel in every way possible, destroy the threat.

  So. Here I am, doing the recon in hopes that we actually get to move forward to steps two and three sooner rather than later. We’ve been chasing this bastard for almost a month now and none of us are happy that he’s in our home city at this point. He’s enemy number one and all of us are focused on taking his ass down.

  I dropped down on top of the hot-as-fuck, tar-coated rooftop and assembled my rifle and scope. Once I was in position, I tapped the comm unit at my throat and made contact with the other men sweating it out with me tonight. Richie and MadDog are both fairly new at RED-Stone, so they’re both antsy and hoping we actually see some action tonight. They both radioed back that they were in place on the North and West sides of the plant.

  It was almost fully dark now. I said a prayer that the temperature would drop quickly because the heat up here is almost unbearable. Tonight wasn’t my favorite kind of mission, but it wasn’t the worse thing I could be doing. First, though, it’s all about patience and waiting. I’ve had a shit-ton of practice with that.

  ~Emma~

  “No shit…” Heather managed, her eyes wide as she held her chip hovering inches from her mouth – her attention entirely focused on the retelling of the story about my neighbor hand-delivering my brand new vibrator.

  “No shit,” I confirmed. “His hot hands were ON my new vibrator and now he knows what I plan on doing with it….” My face flushed all over again at that prospect. I can’t even begin to really explain how embarrassed I am. I’ve been edgy and nervous ever since I realized what was in the box Jason from 6B opened. He KNOWS about my vibrator. He’s held it in his own hands and obviously knows why someone would order one. Gawd.

  Heather finally ate the chip in her hand and chewed thoughtfully. It was our Tuesday night ritual to have dinner at El Toro’s – Taco Tuesday, you know. After a moment, Heather honed in on one thing: “what you PLAN on doing with it? So, it’s still sitting lonely and sad in the box it came in?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Heather. Some of us aren’t oversexed nymphomaniacs who think about nothing other than when our next orgasm might happen.”

  Heather raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic snark.

  “I’m sorry. I know that isn’t how you really are. The whole situation is just… weird. And awful. And… just. Seriously! Argh!” I covered my face as my brain locked up thinking of him opening that box.

  Mia took that moment to slap the table top and knock her cup off the table. “Mama! What dat?” she cried, pointing at nothing in particular. It was her new favorite phrase and she used it on almost everything.

  I lowered my hands to look at what Mia was pointing toward – the salt and pepper shakers – and then ran a hand over Mia’s golden brown hair and smiled into her caramel colored eyes. I would do anything for this little girl. Loving her is the highlight of my days. I sighed.

  Heather handed Mia her cup and some of her rice and beans on a plate. I would be washing beans out of Mia’s hair later, but sharing what we’re eating keeps her from trying to grab everything else off the table, too.

  “So, Mister Hottie – your new neighbor – what’s his name? I can have John check into him and be sure he isn’t a serial killer or something before you give in and bang him.”

  I felt my jaw drop and lean forward hissing, “I am NOT going to ‘BANG him,’ Heather!” I leaned back in my seat, pausing to collect myself from the flustered mess I seem to keep turning into, and continued in a normal voice, “Besides, I only know his first name. He told me his last name but I was too busy drooling over his abs and chest to focus enough to remember. His name is Jason. And I DO NOT want John doing anything about him, okay???”

  Heather narrowed her eyes at me and slowly nodded her head. “Fine. I won’t sic John on him. Yet.”

  After a moment, she adds, “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? The less than stellar sex, getting pregnant, choosing to keep Mia – you’re a good mom, Em. You’re a good person. Dan was an idiot and an unfaithful asshole. You really do deserve better. Take the risks and grab that brass ring with both hands.” She waggled her eyebrows again and added, “You especially deserve better sex. Based on how embarrassed you are about using a vibrator, what you really need is for someone to fuck you silly and show you what multiple orgasms are actually like.”

  I know my mouth was hanging open as I stared at her. There’s a guy in the booth right behind her who has turned to see what’s happening at our table. I covered my face with my hands and feel the heat pouring off me. Utter humiliation.

  I whisper-scream at Heather, “Can we PLEASE have ONE meal where my sex life isn’t the main topic of conversation? Just ONE?!”

  “You’re the one who brought up Mr. Hottie running your new dildo through his hands and imagining you fucking yourself with it.” Heather doesn’t know how to whisper, by the way. I should remember that when we start talking about excruciatingly embarrassing things in public.

  “OHMYGOD. Heather. SHUT UP.”

  I looked over at Mia and thank God she’s still too little to know what the heck is coming out of Auntie Heather’s mouth. “Poor baby girl, you’re never going to be allowed alone with Auntie Heather, are you?”

  Heather frowned. “I would never –“

  “I know. I’m mostly teasing. But you’re kind of being a bitch right now, so you deserved it.”

  She rolled her eyes, spooned more beans on Mia’s plate and changed the subject by asking about work and we eventually discussed my plan to move Mia into a toddler bed soon. I actually got to enjoy my dinner – as long as we kept food on Mia’s plate and she got to hang onto the dessert menu.

  It wasn’t too long after we were finished eating before Mia let the whole restaurant know she was tired and ready to go home, though, so we packed up our stuff and said goodbye.

  Mia fell asleep in the car and barely moved when I changed her diaper, wiped her down quickly with a damp washcloth and wiggled her limp body into her pajamas. She was exhausted.

  I tidied up the kitchen and put detergent in the dishwasher and started it before checking on Mia one last time. She was down for the count, poor tired girl.

  As I was washing my face and getting out my clothes for the next day, my gaze landed on the box that had been the subject of all the dram
atics at dinner. THE box. I walked over to it and pulled out the package nestled in the little air pockets that kept it safe during transportation. After glancing over the information on the back of the package, I wrestled with the packaging and finally managed to pull the package apart and out flopped my very own, very pink vibrator.

  Hmm. I went back to the kitchen to find batteries for my new toy. Might as well have it ready to go when the mood struck, right?

  After tucking it into the drawer in the nightstand – under a magazine just in case someone, for God knows what reason, opened that drawer – I grabbed my Kindle and crawled into bed. I checked in on my Facebook friends to see what was new in their lives, replied to a new e-mail from my boss about an adjustment to a deadline, and discovered that the new romance novel I had pre-ordered had been delivered. What a great way to end the day – I’ve been looking forward to this book for a while now.

  After reading for about 20 minutes or so, the main characters gave in to their urges for the first time and the heat of their lust burned up the pages. I could feel my own breathing speed up and my heart beat faster as I read about them having scorching hot sex in a dark corner at a party – within feet of other party goers who could have caught them at any time. By the time the couple was decent again and back to having drinks with their friends, the tops of my own thighs were damp with arousal. Wow.

  I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost one in the morning. Time to be a responsible adult and actually get some sleep, I guess. I shut off my Kindle, tossed it onto the night stand and clicked off the lamp. But I knew I wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon as turned on as I am….

  I ran my hand down my chest and belly and tucked my fingers inside the top of my panties. I was so wet and hot already. I skated my fingertips around my clit and down, swirling them through my slick heat and sliding them back up to where my body was desperate for some attention. As I stirred my fingers around and around my clit, my left hand drifted to my breast, teasing my tight nipple through the thin material of my tank top. I pinched my nipple gently as I finally rubbed my clit for the first time – and I moaned. Over and over, around and around, my hand moved inside my panties. I writhed on the bed as I got closer and closer to cumming.