Jett, page 1
Jett
SHADOW OPS TEAM
Makenna Jameison
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2022 by Makenna Jameison
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Table of Contents
About this Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Books by Makenna Jameison
About the Author
About this Book
The rugged, commanding operative never needed a woman...until he met her.
Shadow Ops Team leader Jett Hutchinson has everything he wants in life. Leaving the military’s strict rules and regulations behind has given him the freedom to run missions his way—and lead his successful black ops team. He’s not the type of man to be tied down, but the sassy blonde with curves that won’t quit teases and challenges him in ways he never expected.
Executive assistant Anna Dubois is ready for a change. A career in Manhattan with twelve-hour days is no match for her free-spirited ways. One weekend with a dangerously handsome man changes everything. She knows he owns a successful security company but has no clue about the off-the-books missions he runs or potential danger at her doorstep.
When a quick trip mixes work and pleasure, Anna’s life is suddenly in grave danger. Jett will hunt down the man who took her and serve him up to government officials without regret, but can he convince Anna of their future together and that he’ll protect both her body and heart?
Jett, a standalone novel, is book one in the Shadow Ops Team series.
Chapter 1
JETT HUTCHINSON SIPPED his whiskey, setting the glass down on the dark, polished bar. His gaze scanned the Friday evening crowd as conversations carried on around him in the dimly lit space. Damn Manhattan yuppies. With their suits and briefcases and designer shoes, they’d never fit in his world. They’d never want to. This crowd loved attention—money, power, success. He’d learned long ago to blend in anywhere. To slip through the shadows and move in on his target. No one paid him much attention tonight. He preferred it that way. He’d covertly infiltrated multiple locations around the world during his time in the Special Forces— of course that usually involved full combat gear and his finger on the trigger of his assault rifle, his teammates at his side. The U.S. Government at their backs.
This was a different type of subterfuge. More elegant. Practiced. But no less lethal in the end.
His target tonight didn’t involve following his usual modus operandi. Nothing about this evening followed normal protocol. He might be waiting for a man, but he wasn’t after blood. He needed cooperation. Loyalty. He needed someone he could trust.
Jett took another sip of the smooth whiskey, smirking as he watched some young Wall Street types bragging about their portfolios. Two young looking women were fawning over them, listening with bated breath. Real men never kissed and told. At forty-two, he wasn’t exactly old, but he had more than a decade on those fresh-faced kids. He’d been out in the real world for twenty damn years—first in the military and then in his own line of work.
His former teammate Gray Pierce finally came in through the bar doors, his short beard reminding Jett of their days trekking through enemy territory. He’d kept in good shape since leaving the service. His broad shoulders filled out his shirt, and Jett noticed the way women looked at him as he crossed the room.
His lips quirked.
Gray probably wouldn’t mind slipping into one of their beds tonight after Jett filled him in on his proposition. His carefully assembled team at Shadow Security could use another man, especially after that last ass wipe had bailed. Jett had doubts about him right from the start, and they’d proven right. He’d learned to always trust his gut, and going off course could’ve cost them everything. Gray was the man he needed.
“Shadow,” Gray said with a smirk, his dark eyes showing his amusement.
Jett bristled slightly. He’d served his country, following his chain of command and getting the job done, but rules and regulations weren’t for a man like him. The clusterfuck they’d found themselves in during that last op left a bad taste in his mouth. Naming his security company after his codename was a big ‘fuck you’ to Uncle Sam. He’d take their money and complete missions they’d never sanction. Shadow Security was a front for the real work he did. The Shadow Ops Team completed missions the government couldn’t—off the books, under the radar, no questions asked. He made the rules. Jett no longer had to follow military protocol and listen to the assholes in Washington. There was no chain of command. He’d get the damn job done his way.
“Good to see you, too, asshole,” Jett said with a smirk, holding out a hand.
Gray shook it and sunk down onto a barstool beside him. His tattooed arms showed in his tee shirt, and his beard was longer than the stubble he’d had the last time Jett had seen him. “This place is a bit fancy for my blood. Have you gone soft on us?”
“I have another meeting here,” Jett said with a smirk. “They picked the place. When I heard you were in town, it seemed too damn perfect. Nothing like two old Army buddies catching up.”
Gray ordered a beer on tap, watching two women in tight skirts walk by. They’d ditched their suit jackets somewhere and clutched designer purses in their hands, tottering by on sky-high heels.
“Lesbians,” Jett said knowingly.
Gray elbowed him. “Like hell. They were just eye-fucking the bartender.”
“I’m just messing with you,” Jett said with a low chuckle. “They’re probably too uptight for me,” he said, letting his gaze flicker down their legs anyway. He would’ve chased after them for sure in his younger days. It had been years since he’d had a one-night stand. Dating? He sometimes did that. He’d see a woman occasionally, buy her something pretty, and enjoy some weekends away together. He was a man who appreciated his privacy. He managed being single just fine. It suited him, actually. He’d deployed all the time during his years of service and traveled on black ops missions now—or ran them stateside. Both required constant vigilance. How could he explain his sudden disappearances or long hours at Shadow Security with a girlfriend or wife at home?
He couldn’t. Not without putting them in danger. The truth was, he’d never met a woman who was worth the trouble. Most of the women he met wouldn’t appreciate a home upstate anyway, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Never mind that his secluded home had every modern luxury, and he had a state-of-the-art facility nearby to conduct ops and training. They didn’t need to know the details of how he ran Shadow Security—or what its true mission was.
Life was simpler without a woman. He was too set in his ways now anyway.
“So, what’s the deal?” Gray asked, taking a sip from the pilsner glass the bartender set down in front of him. “You in some sort of trouble? Your message said it was urgent.”
Jett laughed. “Hell no. I’m not in trouble.”
“What was with the urgency then?” Gray said, looking pissed off. “I know you didn’t want to meet up just to shoot the shit.”
“It was urgent to me, yes. I need another guy on my team.”
“Fuck no. Those days are over for me. Long over. I did my duty and have the goddamn scars to prove it.”
Jett frowned, watching his former teammate. Gray had been a POW during their last op together—beaten. Tortured. They’d gotten him back after three days, but the man still bore the marks. Physical and mental scars. He also had the skills Jett needed. He was both strong and smart. Calculating. The military had known it. They all did. Now Jett just needed him back in the game. “We need a sixth guy,” Jett said. “I’m running things stateside a majority of the time, but some missions require a full team. I don’t like sending a man in alone. We work in pairs.”
“So fucking hire someone.”
“I did. He got caught in a damn honey pot.”
Gray scowled, running a hand over his beard. “So find someone who doesn’t think with his dick every minute of the day. There are men out there who can withstand temptation.”
Jett looked at him pointedly.
“Hell no. Not me. Just because I wouldn’t be whipping out my dick for the first beautiful woman who batted her eyelashes at me doesn’t mean I’m the guy for the job.”
“It’s only part of the reason. Yes, you’re too smart for that shit, but it’s more. We work well together. You know that,” Jett said in a low voice. “Sam, Ford, Nick, and Luke are good operatives. The best. Not everyone has that type of training and background. The new guy didn’t fit in anyway. We can all practically read each other’s minds. I want you in on this, Gray. Think of the fucking lives you’ll be saving. When the Government can’t go in, we do.”
“Jesus,” he muttered.
Jett pulled a Shadow Security business card from his wallet. “Call the number on here. They’ll help you get set up and moved t o New York.”
Gray eyed him warily. “You’re assuming I’ll take the job.”
“I know you will. You think you’ll be happy hanging around in pool halls all day for the rest of your life? Hell no. I need you in on this.” He took the last swig of his whiskey and eyed his watch. “I’ve got to meet another contact in twenty minutes. He’s got some papers for me.”
Jett pulled his wallet out, dropping a fifty down on the bar. Fucking Manhattan.
“You’re a busy man, boss.”
Jett smirked. “I knew you’d be in. The others were placing bets on how long it’d take me to convince you. Fortunately, I won.” He stood up from the barstool, slapping Gray on the back. “It’ll be like old times, only the pay is much better. Talk to you soon.”
Chapter 2
ANNA Dubois cursed at the message on her cell phone, grumbling under her breath. Twelve hours in the office was enough for today, thank you very much. She needed some food for sustenance and a stiff drink—not necessarily in that order. She absolutely wasn’t about to send over the updated reports a third time because her boss accidentally deleted her earlier two emails. It’s like he was intentionally being an ass.
Two men in business suits nodded at her as she hurried out of the office building, her heels clacking on the floor, but she brushed past them. One of the men called out something in greeting, but she ignored him. That was also the last thing she needed—another suit in her life. Sure, he’d probably love to buy her a drink and take her back to his place, but she’d been there and done that. Her ex had been married to his career. The sex had been decent—when they were actually having it. He was more worried about climbing the corporate ladder than her. Any man who’d take a call while in the throes of passion was not the man for her anyway. It wasn’t like he’d needed to answer the phone because someone’s life was in danger. He was just another Wall Street jackass. Thank God she’d never married the prick.
Anna might have a killer career as an executive assistant to a Wall Street bigwig, but damn. She liked to let loose and have fun, too. There was more to life than the office, her laptop, and late nights slaving away over financial reports. She’d once thought she wanted to be a broker herself, but no way. Life was too short to be stuck here in New York City forever. Maybe she should jet off to Hollywood and find herself a movie star. Not.
None of the men she’d met recently appealed to her—no doubt because they were all the damn same. A man in a fancy suit more concerned about his portfolio and designer clothes didn’t really spark any intrigue. There were hundreds of other guys just like that within spitting distance.
She tugged her blonde strands free from the prim and proper bun she’d worn to meetings all day, letting it fall down her back. She tousled it a bit as she walked toward the closest bar, ignoring the looks of a cabbie waiting for his customer to climb in. Her friends were meeting uptown tonight, but she didn’t want to sit in traffic for an hour to get there. Anna’s nerves were shot, and if she didn’t start downing drinks, she was going to lose it. This damn city was too much sometimes.
Her phone buzzed with another text, and she resisted the urge to scream in frustration.
Pausing on the busy sidewalk, she forwarded her boss the same email for the third time and then quickly sent her best friend Ashleigh a text.
Anna: Sorry I can’t make it. Just left the office, and my brain is fried.
Her gaze flicked toward the skyscraper she’d just exited. Funny how what was so shiny and enticing a few years ago now just felt like a damn prison. Arriving before seven to appease her boss’s insane demands and then staying a full twelve hours every day was wearing on her. Her entire body was simply exhausted, and she was looking forward to sitting down on a barstool and ignoring all the demands of her life for the evening.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at Ashleigh’s text.
Ashleigh: What? Get your booty up here, hun. Jen and I are waiting.
Anna smiled.
Anna: My dancing on bar days have been over since college. You know that.
Anna: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. xoxo
Her phone buzzed again, but she was already crossing with the light, cabs honking at the slow pedestrians. Jesus. She’d lived in Manhattan since graduating college five years ago. At first, she loved the hustle and bustle of life in the Big Apple, but more often than not, now it grated on her nerves. She needed to jet off to a tropical resort for a week or two—maybe even just a quick escape upstate to the mountains. She wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy girl, but she could chill with wine in a cabin or something. Didn’t people do that? Go to their upstate properties on lakes or whatever? A hot tub in a secluded mountain retreat sounded pretty damn fantastic. Returning to her own cramped Manhattan studio was not exactly appealing. Life in New York might’ve been exciting, but when you were too damn busy to enjoy it, what was the point?
Ashleigh had a cute little studio in Brooklyn and was a romance novelist. Her books were already beginning to take off, and Anna had no doubt she was at the beginning of an amazing career as an author. Ashleigh was already saving up for her own two-bedroom place. She’d probably find a guy, get married, and be living the dream soon.
As for Anna’s own life? She’d loved the stockbroker type when she’d first arrived in the city, but those guys were all the same. They were focused on money, booze, and getting the most gorgeous woman into their bed. It was exciting until it wasn’t. She was never home, so who cared where she lived. She didn’t even get to enjoy her tiny, cramped place.
Her boss would no doubt love to sleep with her, but gross. The guy was in his fifties, old enough to be her father. He’d probably put her up in a penthouse somewhere as his mistress since she didn’t think his divorce was ever finalized, but hell no to that. She needed to start looking for a new job if she didn’t want to deal with his advances anymore. If only she had the time to do it.
Pulling open the door to the bar down the block, she let the conversation and music dull her thoughts. Anna just needed a few drinks to unwind. And some damn food.
A couple kissing at the bar moved away, and she quickly slid onto the barstool, gesturing to the bartender. She crossed her legs, the skirt of her suit riding higher on her thighs. Her feet were killing her after walking around in heels all day, but she couldn’t be bothered to switch into flats like some women preferred. Anna ordered a gin and tonic, taking a careful sip. Hell. She really wanted a couple shots of whiskey.
Her gaze flicked around the crowded bar. Most people were dressed in business suits like her. It wasn’t exactly surprising given they were in the financial district. She saw a woman from her office flirting with a stockbroker she recognized. Stiffening slightly, her eyes moved around the bar again. She didn’t mind seeing her colleagues as long as her boss wasn’t here. Had he gotten her third email?
Ugh.
Pulling out her phone, she quickly swiped the screen. No news was good news, so she shoved it back into her bag. He’d just have to deal without the report if he deleted her third email.
A rowdy group of youngish guys at the end of the bar were knocking back drinks, and a few women nearby were eying them. She’d done exactly the same a few short years ago. Funny how jaded she already felt. She was twenty-seven, not fifty. She took another sip of her drink, trying to relax, when her eyes landed on a gruffly handsome man seated across the bar from her. He’d been watching the crowd, but when his dark gaze landed on her, she felt pinned in place by his stare. Dark stubble covered his jaw, and his hair was cropped short. He looked older than her by probably a decade. Maybe more. His cool confidence was evident all the way across the room. This was a guy comfortable in his own skin. She definitely didn’t get the Wall Street vibe from him. He was far too muscular to sit at a desk all day.
Anna felt butterflies fill her stomach as she took in his broad shoulders and thick arms.
Damn.
Even his hands were sexy. He was gripping a beer bottle, the veins standing out. And his forearms—hell. She had a vision of those arms beside her head on the mattress as he caged her in, ducking down to kiss her thoroughly.
