Code Name: Genesis (Jameson Force Security #1)(19)

“I’ll take a soda,” Bebe replies eagerly, and I wonder what it will taste like after seven years of prison food and drink.

“I’ll be back,” Kynan says. He disappears into the dining room, which leads into a formal living room.

I set the plates down, intent on following him, but Bebe shakes her head. “Let him check your place out. It’s his job.”

A bolt of fear hits me in the gut like a sucker punch. I almost double over as I realize… my stalker could actually be in my house right now. We all assumed he’s off hiding and licking his wounds, but he’s also bat-shit crazy so why wouldn’t he be here, waiting for me to return?

“It’s already been secured,” Lynn says, and Bebe and I both turn to her. “Kynan had some of his folks from Vegas out here yesterday. They were updating the security system. A woman named Rachel is still here. Or rather, she’s at her hotel right now. She’ll be by later.”

My jaw drops slightly, amazed by Kynan’s foresight. But really, why should I be surprised? Of course he’d have had this place scoped out before he brought me here. This is the man who performs prison breaks with a wink of his eye.

He’s Kynan McGrath, and he’s going to be one step ahead of my stalker at all times.

I immediately experience that sensation of warmth and security again, trusting in the man who I hired to protect me. I’m safe here.

He’ll protect me.

I have nothing at all to worry about.





CHAPTER 9




Kynan


Having grabbed a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator, I make my way through to the back patio that’s accessed from the formal living room. I’d patrolled the grounds earlier—almost a full two acres surrounded by a combination of fencing and hedges but still plenty of places to sneak in—and found them to be incredibly beautiful. The house has quieted as both Joslyn and Bebe made their way to their bedrooms about an hour ago. Most of the evening I’d spent with Bebe, getting her up and running on a brand-new laptop I’d had Rachel buy per Bebe’s specifications.

I step out onto the patio, moving past a large wrought-iron table that seats six and overlooks the pool. Cutting to the right, I walk up five steps to a smaller patio that has a cement banister around the edge covered with flowering vines. From this vantage point, had the sun still been in the sky, I’d be able to clearly see the Pacific Ocean. As it is, I can barely see the moonlight glinting off the water but not much else. The rest of the valley is twinkling with lights.

Joslyn certainly has done well for herself, but I’m not surprised. From the first time I saw her on stage when she was just nineteen and bringing down the house in Vegas, I knew she was destined for big things.

Since we broke up, she’s won multiple Grammys, filmed successful movies, and performed concerts in venues all over the world. She’s an A-lister in Hollywood known for her triple threat of acting, singing, and dancing. Her last major success was a year on Broadway with a Tony award to prove her success there.

Yeah, I’ve followed her career and I’ve always wondered “what if”. What if we’d stayed together? Would I have been traveling the world with her, riding on the coattails of her success? I feel safe in saying I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing these days had I gone with her. I would have let Joslyn have her chance to shine, and I would have been by her side for the long haul.

But that didn’t fucking happen because for some unexplainable reason, she decided she wasn’t in love with me and left without giving me a clear understanding of what was going through her head.

I was bitter for a long time.

Years, actually.

But then I moved past it.

Sort of.

I wouldn’t let myself get trapped by a relationship again, always reserving a healthy dose of skepticism over a woman’s motives. Joslyn and her abrupt way of breaking things off made it incredibly easy to keep every other woman at arm’s length. It was merely safer that way.

The last few years, I’ve rarely thought about her. When I would see something on TV or her name in the news, more often than not, I might even have a fond memory of her. Certainly, the bitterness had ebbed away like a low tide.

Which is why it bothers me that I’m so on edge around Joslyn now. There was initial anger she reached out to me, but damn if that didn’t go ice cold when I found out she’d almost been killed by a stalker. Since then, I’ve been fueled by determination to keep her safe and hopefully have a bit of a face to face with this douchebag so I can make him regret putting his hands on her.

I try to focus on that. I really do. But when I’m in Joslyn’s presence, it’s difficult to think about anything other than how beautiful she is, or how soft I know her skin to be, or how amazing it was when I was fucking her.

Some would say it may have been the blush of my first and only real love, but it’s not. Joslyn is just the best fuck I’ve ever had. Every single thing about her from the smell of her hair to the way her tongue would slide against mine, or even the taste of her pussy… there’s never been better.

And goddamn it all to hell… I fucking want it again.

And badly.

It would be completely inappropriate for me to act on as she’s my client and paying me good money to do a job for her—one that does not include sex and orgasms.