Page 11 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

One hand pulls away, slowly moving to spread open the front of her robe before removing the clamps still pinched into place.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Lust courses through my veins at the knowledge those were put on for my benefit. To tempt me. To lure me closer. Like a siren intent on causing more wreckage.

On some level, she succeeded. Her little display has brought me closer. But I'm not the one who's going to suffer in this situation. By the time this is over, Julieanne will know she doesn't belong in my world. She’ll see how wrong she was to go up against me. To take me on.

Now I just have to bide my time and make sure no one else tries to get to her before I do.

Because I've got a sneaking suspicion she's not going to be locking those doors anytime soon.

STANDINGFROM THE chair at my new desk in my temporary home, I arch my back, twisting from side to side in an effort to work out the kinks tightening my muscles. It's been a long damn time since I was part of a stakeout. Even longer since I've done it in freezing conditions, which is saying something, considering I live in fucking Alaska. But I've been the boss for years. The one running shit instead of participating in the show.

Scrubbing one hand down my face, I turn away from the screens I set up an hour ago, making my way into the bathroom for a quick piss before grabbing a bottle of waterfrom the pack still bundled on the counter and going back to drop into the chair.

Staying up all night making sure no one tried to surprise Julieanne gave me plenty of time to reevaluate the situation. I expected to come here, scare the shit out of her, make it clear she'd fucked around and found out, then leave her intimidated and filled with fear, going back to my team with my head held high and my reputation unmarred.

Because that's what Julieanne is. A thick black line of failure on my perfect record. When I didn't go after her six months ago, it made me look like I'd gone soft. Like I could be swayed by a pretty face and a velvet voice. But that wasn't the reason I didn't immediately track her down.

It wasn't theonlyreason I didn't immediately track her down.

Finding her just seemed like a waste of my time. She wasn't cut out to be a part of my team. I could tell just by looking at her. She was too soft. Too sweet. She wouldn’t last a day dealing with an asshole like me. So I just planned to pretend it never happened.

It was easier said than done. For many reasons.

After chugging down half the water, hoping to rehydrate after not eating or drinking for damn near twenty-four hours, I refocus on the screens. As soon as the sun came up this morning, I decided Julieanne would be safe for a few hours while I set myself up. Securing a location and equipment took longer than I expected, but at the end of the day, money talks, and I have plenty to throw around. So I did. Because I never go halfway. I do what's required. Usually more.

That's how I ended up subletting the vacant,first floor unit across the parking lot from Julieanne. Paying the entire year’s rent in advance earned me immediate occupancy and a place to work out of for the next few days. Week at most.

I hadn't exactly expected this to be a quick job, but I also hadn't expected Julieanne to be quite as sneaky as she was turning out to be. She's about to find out she's not the only sneaky one. Coming home to discover I was in her space while she was gone is one thing. Finding out I can be in it while she's there is going to be another.

Polishing off the second half of my water, I check the screen displaying the monitor of her work computer. She's ten minutes into a Zoom call with a customer of the company she does IT for, and based on her morning, those run about an hour. That gives me plenty of time to make my next move.

I pull on my new coat, one decidedly less conspicuous than the all-black gear I came with. Rotating my arms, I make sure I've got a full range of motion. Chances are slim I’ll need it, but it's always good to know the limits I'm working within.

After locking up my new place, I head down the sidewalk, chin up, looking unbothered and uninteresting. If I've learned one thing during my years of doing despicable shit right under people’s noses, it's that looking like you’re sneaking around is suspicious as hell. So I don't sneak. I walk straight across the parking lot and up to Julieanne's front door. If anyone's looking, it seems like I'm paying a friend a visit. A friend whose house I walk straight into without knocking.

I checked every access point during my visit last night,so I know the front door opens without a sound if you barely lift it on its hinges, so my entry is silent. My first stop is the back sliding door. I lock it tight, double checking to make sure it won't open, before creeping up the stairs, following the path I mapped out, skipping the sixth step up because there's no safe space on it to shift my weight without causing it to creek.

I reach the landing, pausing to listen to Julieanne's conversation. Waiting for one specific sound. When the throaty, almost husky sound of her laugh drifts out from the room, I make my move. After watching her closely for the past few hours, I discovered my little thorn always closes her eyes and tips her head back when she laughs, offering the perfect opportunity for me to pass through her periphery unseen.

Going to her bedroom, I make quick work of locking the sliding doors, my gaze drifting to the spot where she laid on her bed last night, making a move of her own. I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed, but since working with a hard-on makes everything more difficult, I decide to be pissed. At this point she’s not only cost me the respect of my team, but also a decent chunk of money, so my little thorn won’t be getting any credit from me for her bad behavior.

Going back into the hall, I pause outside the bathroom when something inside catches my eye.

It’s the same item that tormented me all night long. Drove me to distraction more than once while I sat in the cold, half hoping her bedroom light might come on for a repeat performance. It was fucking maddening, and I'm not giving her the chance to do it to me again. I quicklycollect her pink, U-shaped vibrator from the counter, shoving it into my pocket before leaving an item of my own. I leave the bathroom just as she laughs again, allowing me to slip back down the stairs.

I smile to myself as I quietly go back out the front door, twisting the lock on the knob as I go.

4

A NICE PAIR OF BOOBS NEVER HURT ANYTHING

JULIEANNE

HOW FREAKING LONG is this call going to take?

I've been patient. Been nice. I’ve explained every way I know how that the problem they're having isn't anusproblem, but athemproblem. This isn’t an issue with our software. This is purely a user error.

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