Code name omega, p.17
Code Name: Omega, page 17
It’s not just Bebe and Griff setting the tone for relationship contentment. I’ve watched everyone here carefully, and all the Jameson couples are so into each other.
Just like I’m into Kellen.
He’s like no other man I’ve ever dated or been with.
He’s absolutely the real deal.
We’re sitting with Malik and Anna when Ladd approaches. He puts a hand on Kellen’s shoulder and bends to speak to him. Kellen’s eyebrows rise, and then Ladd nods toward me.
Kellen stands and holds out his hand. “Kynan wants to talk to us.”
I excuse myself, and we follow Ladd out of the ballroom and into the hallway where Kynan waits. He cuts a dashing figure in his tuxedo, heightened by his crisp British accent.
“Hellman?” Kellen asks as we approach.
Kynan nods and looks to Ladd, who lays it out. “We aren’t picking up anything of use from the devices I planted in his home, but the tracker on his car showed some encouraging data. He visited a house over in East Allegheny.”
“I don’t know where that is,” Kellen says.
“It’s one of the more unsavory parts of Pittsburgh,” I say.
Ladd nods. “And the house in particular is in a well-known drug area.”
“He’s dealing?” Kellen asks incredulously.
“Well, one would assume,” Kynan replies. “Based on that info, I’ve had two agents casing the house over the last twenty-four hours.”
“And?”
“And,” Ladd says, taking over the story, “it’s not drugs being run out of there but women.”
I frown as I consider what that means. “Prostitutes?”
That I can see more so than Levi dealing drugs.
“Worse,” Ladd says, eyes coming to me. “Women who don’t want to be used for sex.”
My eyes double. “Sex trafficking. But how is Hellman involved?”
“No clue,” Kynan admits. “We only know his car went there once in the last two days. Given the large sums he’s got in foreign accounts, I’m guessing he’s heading up the operation. But we don’t have nearly enough to turn this over to the police. We need to keep watch.”
Kellen nods in understanding, my mind whirling with implications. If this guy is involved in any way with sex trafficking, particularly with unwilling victims, he’s going away for a long time.
At least, that’s how it works in the movies.
It could be the way to get his breeding operation shut down. Bebe had said he has no partners in that enterprise and his sons are minors, so without him at the helm, it would probably fold.
“Put me on the schedule to watch,” Kellen says, and I jolt, my fingers squeezing his. I’m prepared to lobby against this idea, but Kynan beats me to the punch.
“Not going to happen.” He shakes his head. “You’re too emotionally involved.”
“I’m not.”
But he is. He’s too emotional about what Hellman did to me.
Kynan’s voice is slightly patronizing. “You were going to kill him two days ago, and we both know if Griff hadn’t been there to stop you, you would have.”
“I can control myself,” Kellen says through gritted teeth.
Kynan appraises him a moment. “Maybe. But I don’t think we should discount the danger that Hellman presents to Abby. The motherfucker is bold, walking into that clinic and taking the dog back, especially knowing there are cameras recording him. He’s got an overinflated ego, and because he gets away with repeat violations at his puppy mill, he thinks he’s untouchable. You add in the fact that he’s potentially culling victims and processing them through that house to be sold into sex trafficking, are you really willing to leave Abby alone?”
My blood chills at this prospect. Would Hellman be the type to have me abducted and sold into captivity?
“Surely not,” I say, my voice confident because I need someone to tell me that’s a very low possibility.
“Sex trafficking is a multibillion-dollar enterprise,” Ladd says.
“Granted,” Kynan says, giving me a respectful nod, “you’re not the typical victim. They usually lure runaways from the streets and get them hooked on drugs to make them compliant, but somehow, I think Hellman would relish bringing you under his boot heel.”
Kellen growls low in his throat, like an animal issuing warning over his territory. “I’d like to request a leave of absence until this is over. I can’t leave Abby alone. Even if chances are slim that Hellman would be so ballsy, I can’t risk it.”
My head whips his way, and I note that Kellen looks slightly pale. His eyes come to mine, and he manages a smile. “I cannot risk losing you.”
Kynan shakes his head. “Request denied.”
“But—”
“You’ll stay on payroll and do other work remotely. I’ve got plenty to keep you busy and earning your paycheck.”
“Thank you.” Kellen nods once. “That’s generous. And I know I’ve offered before, but I’m more than willing to pay for the agents tracking Hellman. I don’t expect Jameson to do this for free.”
“We don’t charge for our services for team members.” Kynan’s tone is curt and almost offended. “We take care of our own.”
“But I’m not one of yours,” I say. I’m touched by his words, but I feel awful everyone is going to such lengths for me.
Kynan levels a look that says he means business. “You are Kellen’s, and Kellen is one of ours, so you are too.”
My skin prickles and my chest warms. I’m Kellen’s.
I’m humbled, more than I think I’ve ever been.
I also might be a little lovesick over this man holding my hand, calling in a cavalry to bring down my nemesis, putting his neck on the line for me.
Kellen offers a hand to Kynan, and they shake. “I don’t know how I got so lucky as to land a place here, but I thank God every fucking day for it. You know you have my loyalty for life.”
I’m so moved that I fling my arms around Kynan and hug him. He chuckles and pats my back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“We got you,” he murmurs before releasing me to Kellen.
We enter the ballroom to the starting notes of “Unchained Melody,” and rather than going to sit with Anna and Malik, Kellen leads me to the dance floor.
He pulls me in close, his mouth next to my ear. “I think the end is near for Levi Hellman, and that son of a bitch will pay for everything he’s done.”
“I can’t believe it.” I snuggle into Kellen as we sway, our feet barely moving, more hug than dance. “I mean, I can believe that about him. He’s evil. But to think he could actually go to prison? That would shut down the mill, which will never happen otherwise. The laws suck when it comes to protecting animals.”
“If there’s incriminating evidence, we’ll find it.”
“And you’ll turn it over to the police?”
“FBI. It’ll be federal since the women are most likely transported across state lines. Kynan will inform Griff about what’s going on, and they’ll be ready to move in.”
“I’ll need to be ready.” I pull back to look up at him. “To go in and save all those animals. If Hellman topples, there will be hundreds of sick dogs to treat and work to get adopted. It’ll be a massive undertaking, and I’ll be damned if a single one gets euthanized.”
“Jesus,” Kellen mutters. “I never even thought of that.”
The prospect that a potential rescue could happen for all those animals causes an excited humming through my veins. “I’ve got a huge network of vets who will volunteer their time for medical care. We can get adoption networks from other states to help. They can mobilize foster families and transportation volunteers. I can totally handle it.”
“You’re amazing.” Kellen bends and presses his lips to mine.
It’s a sweet kiss, but my hand curls behind his neck. I tilt my head, open my mouth, and slide my tongue against his.
Kellen groans and nips my lower lip. “Want to get out of here?” he breathes into me.
“And do what?” I ask primly, as I nibble along his jaw.
“Everything.” He rubs his nose along mine in a moment of pure tenderness laced with promise. “Going to do everything to you.”
CHAPTER 19
Kellen
Something cold and wet nudges my arm, interrupting my sleep. I slowly open my eyes, note the brightness in the room, and realize I’ve slept in much later than I normally do.
An early-morning person not by nature but thanks to the Marine Corps, I’m usually up and sipping coffee by six a.m. But sleeping with Abby puts me in such a comforting slumber, I’m near comatose when the sun rises.
Bubba’s nose pokes at me, an indication that his bladder is as full as it can get.
I disentangle myself from Abby’s arms and legs as we somehow sleep just fine all tangled up. She groans and rolls over, burying her head under a pillow. She’s off today, and good thing after the extra champagne last night at the wedding.
After dressing, I open the door to let Bubba into the backyard, and step onto the deck behind him. It doesn’t feel right without Princess here. I loved watching her explore the confines within the fence. She never saw the fence as a prison, though, because she was used to living in a small cage. She would walk around and sniff practically every blade of grass in wonder.
Honestly, it’s times like this when I’m watching Bubba do his doggy things that I miss Princess the most. I don’t know how that girl got wound up so tight in our hearts in such a short time, but she did. Probably because she’s a survivor, and I’m beyond sick every time I imagine her back in Hellman’s possession. No matter what happens to that asshole, I’m getting our dog back.
Our dog.
Mine and Abby’s.
Ours together.
Definitely thinking long term with this woman. I never looked way down the road with Adriana. We just… were.
With Abby, I spend time thinking about what we’ll look like years into the future if we stay together. We both love to travel, and I think it would be fun to take off spontaneously whenever the desire hit us. When we retire, maybe get an RV and drive the country. Go to another country, get an RV, and drive around there, seeing all the sights.
And I’ve thought of buying land here in western Pennsylvania, someplace where Abby can have a barn, and maybe she’d teach me to ride. We could even run a dog rescue.
I think about children with her, and I hope they all get her beautiful dark hair and radiant green eyes.
I’m not sure if it’s completely fucked up, but I know Abby and I would make great parents, and the prospect of having a family unit that’s more than just me, her, and the dogs is almost too appealing. Like I want to take her hand and both of us run right off the cliff of life without any thought to whether this is too soon or a good idea or if we’re being impulsive.
During the descent, we’d do everything together.
We’d build a life.
I fucking want that with her. She is so singularly unique and has every bit of me mesmerized, I actually can’t see a way forward without her.
Christ… if I told her that, she’d probably think I was a psychopath.
Laughing at my own internal debate, I ask Bubba, “What do you think of Abby?”
My dog doesn’t bother looking at me. Instead, he walks in circles with his nose to the ground until he finds the perfect spot to shit.
“Don’t play coy,” I tease while he does his business. “You’re as into her as I am.”
After I clean up Bubba’s deposit, feed him, and wash my hands, I head back to my bedroom. Abby’s position has not changed in the last fifteen minutes.
My clothes hit the floor, and I slip under the covers to spoon up against her. She’s warm and smells sweet, and she makes a little purring sound as she wiggles her naked ass against me.
“You awake?” I run a hand along the outside of her leg, then across her stomach to pull her in closer.
“Mmm,” she replies, and I can hear a smile in that wordless affirmation.
“How’s your head?”
“Okay,” she murmurs, still with a smile, her voice laced with morning huskiness.
“What do you want to do today?” It’s Sunday, and the weather forecast looks fantastic.
Abby stretches and then rolls over toward me. I shift my position as she snuggles in close, but she keeps her head tipped so she can see my face. “I sort of wanted to go to a flea market.”
I frown… even grimace a little. I fucking hate shopping. I try to wipe the look off my face, because I want to spend the day with Abby, but she sees it.
Laughing, she gives a little shake of her head. “Not to shop, I promise.”
My frown deepens. “Then what does one do at a flea market?”
Abby smiles, slips an arm around my waist, and trails her fingers down my spine, which is a bit distracting. “Flea markets are a great place to sell mill puppies.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “You’re not going to try to steal them, are you?”
Abby glares at me and pinches my ass, which makes my cock twitch. “No, I’m not going to steal them. I’m going to treat them. Most will have skin or eye infections because of the horrible conditions in which they’re raised. I go around and offer free treatment, and most will accept it.”
My eyes roam over her face, consider her lips a moment, but merely hold her close. “You’re a fucking saint, you know that?”
She gives me an offended look. “I most certainly am not.”
“Total saint. I see the glow of a halo above your head now.”
“Hmm,” she hums low as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Would a saint do this?”
Before I can comprehend the question, her hand is between our bodies, her delicate fingers encircling my dick.
It jumps in response.
She squeezes.
“Fuck,” I groan as I close my eyes. She strokes me, and I swell under her touch.
“Not so saintlike now, am I?” she murmurs in an evil, impish voice that promises dark delight, and I get harder yet.
“On your back, Mr. McCord,” she commands, her hand gone from my dick and now at my chest to give me a shove.
I don’t mind getting pushed around. I flop to my back and then immediately arch as Abby takes me in hand again and strokes me hard.
“Definitely not a saint,” I mutter.
“Too rough for you?” she taunts, easing up.
That’s a challenge, and my hand curls around hers, making her grip me harder. “Do your worst.”
“Oh, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” she whispers softly and leans over for a soft kiss.
Just seconds ago, I was digging a little pain with my pleasure, but I immediately fall head over heels for this woman with the sweet touch of her lips on mine while she tenderly rubs a thumb over the head of my cock.
Lifting up, Abby gazes down at me with dreamy eyes. “Lie back and enjoy, baby.”
She starts to shift downward, and I know her intent is to put that hot, wet mouth on me. But my hand snakes out and curls around her neck to hold her in place for a second.
Our eyes lock.
“I need you to know I’m fucking crazy about you, Abby.”
Her eyes soften, and she tilts her head curiously.
“I just needed to say that now, because words to that effect are bound to come babbling out of me if you put your lips anywhere near my dick. And, well… I just want you to know I mean it, whether you’re touching me or not.”
Abby’s smile splits wide and her eyes sparkle. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me in my life.”
She again moves to slink away, her eyes going to my erection now throbbing in her hand.
I grip her neck a little tighter, holding her in place. Her attention comes back to me. “I’m serious. I’m utterly fucking mad for you. Just being near you makes my heart slam inside my chest, and the smell of your shampoo makes me hard, and the sound of your voice causes me to shiver with excitement.”
I don’t have time for regrets as Abby scrambles up my chest and kisses me. Deep and slow, but then she puts her lips to the corner of my mouth. Then my cheek. My temple.
She lifts her head. “I’m fucking crazy about you too. My world changed for the better the day I met you.”
Our eyes lock, and we just stare at each other. The moment feels heavy, but not in a bad way. Like in a weighted blanket of comfort way.
She’s the one who breaks the spell. “Now… if you don’t mind… I’d really like to make you come with my mouth.”
My head flops back onto the pillow with a curse.
I’m pretty sure she’s going to kill me.
At the first touch of her tongue along the underside of my cock, I think that if she’s going to kill me, this is absolutely the way to go.
♦
I walk into the kitchen to find Abby at the stove, flipping bacon in a skillet. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts that swamps her body. Her hair is an absolute mess, mainly because my fingers were gripping onto it half an hour ago while she gave me the best fucking blow job I’ve ever had.
I think I’m recharged enough that it’s worth putting the bacon on hold to bend her over the kitchen table and—
My doorbell rings, and Abby twists to look over her shoulder. She sees me and smiles.
I smile back… a little too goofily.
I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Better go answer that.”
“Whoever it is, we only have enough bacon for me, you, and Bubba, so don’t invite them in for breakfast.”
“Got it,” I reply as I move to the door. Bubba follows along. I never deter him because while he wouldn’t be aggressive with a stranger at first meeting, it’s nice for any newcomer to see a dog beside me that looks like he could rip out a throat.
Given that I don’t trust Hellman not to have figured out who I am or where I live, I definitely want Bubba at my side.
