Chapter 17 Sexting While Jumping Out of Planes Is Romantic
KADE
Last night was fucking incredible.
Not just because Amanda is still the most wildly entertaining, infuriating, and addictive woman I’ve ever met. Not just because she came for me, just like she used to, without a single touch.
But because she gave in. She didn’t fight it. Didn’t fight me. She let me lead her exactly where I wanted her to go.
And now? I want more. I want Amanda in her entirety, mind, body, and soul.
But unfortunately, work is getting in the way. Again.
Less than twelve hours after I left Amanda at her apartment building, I was strapped into a C-130 Hercules.
From her building straight to a private airfield, then here—wherever the hell “here” is.
Some industrial shithole in Eastern Europe where my handler thinks we can finally close this chapter.
I lace up my tactical boots, rolling my shoulders as I strap my gear into place.
The warehouse we’re using as a staging point is cold, damp, reeking of oil and concrete. Perfect for a job like this.
I should be focusing. Should be fully dialed in. Instead, my eyes flick to my phone. Amanda’s apartment feed is live.
I set up the cameras yesterday while she was at work.
I’d let myself in with the key I’d copied from her landlord months ago—swiped it, made a duplicate, put a fake one back before he even noticed it was missing, because no one has access to Amanda while she’s sleeping except for me.
One camera in the smoke detector in her living room.
One behind the mirror in her bedroom. One near the kitchen light fixture.
Carefully. In ways she’d never notice, using skills I learned over a decade of black ops work.
Places innocuous enough that she’d never even think to check, because I taught her to look for threats, not surveillance. Taught her to watch for immediate danger, not the patient kind.
I know I shouldn’t. I know this crosses every line, violates every boundary, makes me exactly the kind of man she should run from.
But I can’t help myself around her. She’s mine—has been mine since the moment I put that ring on her finger eight years ago.
And after what happened, after nearly losing her, I can’t breathe unless I know she’s safe.
Watching her, knowing she’s safe, seeing her laugh and move through her life…
it’s the only thing that makes any of this feel real anymore.
Most of my life, I’ve been a ghost. Existing but not living. But Amanda? She made me understand what it felt like to be real. And now I can see her. Right there. In her apartment. Going about her morning like nothing is different.
Like she doesn’t realize she’s already mine. Has always been mine.
I go through my own routine, though for me, it’s not morning. I haven’t slept—not since I dropped her off, watched her go inside, and then listened as she came for me, just from my words on a screen.
And yeah, I did that right in the middle of a busy Manhattan street. Because no fucking way was I going to waste a single second of watching her come undone for me just to drive somewhere more private.
Besides, my phone screen has a privacy filter. No one could see what was on it unless they were standing directly over me. And only two people will ever get that close: Amanda or someone with a death wish.
I hear footsteps behind me before I see who it is.
“You seem a little distracted lately.”
I don’t turn around. Just keep my eyes on my screen, still tracking Amanda as she goes about her morning routine I’ve already got memorized.
“Just some personal shit,” I murmur, keeping my tone even.
Jude Bergen snorts behind me. “Dude. We don’t have personal lives in this line of work. You know that.”
I do. Better than anyone. It’s why I left her broken in a hospital bed after we were run off the road in that Vegas tunnel.
Why I disappeared while she was still unconscious, because if I tried to tell her the truth, I knew I’d never leave.
Why I’ve spent the last eight years trying to hunt down every person who thought they could get to me through killing her—because better she be alone than dead because of me.
I turn slightly, finally meeting his eyes.
Bergen’s leaning against the concrete wall, arms crossed, looking like the poster boy for military recruitment.
Clean-shaven, regulation haircut, a square-jawed, all-American look that makes commanding officers trust him instantly.
He’s been my team’s handler since I got here, which means he thinks he knows me better than most.
He doesn’t.
Bergen’s always rubbed me the wrong way. Too eager to please. Too quick with the right answers. A guy who follows orders without question and expects everyone else to do the same.
“Yeah. I know,” I say.
“That’s what got us into this shitstorm in the first place,” Bergen says. “Personal attachments make you vulnerable. Make you stupid. Make you easy to manipulate.”
He watches me for a second, like he’s trying to figure out if I’ve been compromised.
If I’m about to become a liability. Bergen knows exactly why we’re here.
This whole operation exists because someone threatened what was mine.
He’s been helpful. Too helpful, maybe. His eagerness to facilitate this hunt raised red flags from the beginning.
People’s actions always make sense when you know all the facts, and I don’t have all of Bergen’s facts.
But I’m not complaining. Not when his help led me to every name on the list. Right now I’m more focused on making sure everyone who thought they could hurt Amanda understands exactly what that costs. I’ll figure out Bergen’s angle later.
He claps me roughly on the back with that practiced camaraderie that never feels genuine. “Well, now’s your chance to clean up the mess.”
I don’t respond. Just watch as he walks off to check his own gear, that military bearing never slipping even for a second. And then my eyes flick back to my screen. Back to Amanda.
Because whatever’s happening to me is not something I can just shake off. And I’m not sure I want to. One more mission. Then I’m out. Then I can be her husband again instead of her digital stalker.
I shift tabs, pulling up Monarch’s security feeds.
I have to hand it to Cal, he’s good. Better than I anticipated.
I barely get into the system before I feel the pushback.
He’s got firewalls on firewalls, a constantly shifting security network that detects any outside access and boots it in one to three minutes.
It’s irritating as hell. But I respect the guy for it. He’s protecting what’s mine, even if he doesn’t know it.
Still, one to three minutes is enough. Enough to see Amanda. Enough to watch her walk through the store, talking to that personal shopper, Daniel. Enough to catch the moment she gets my little gift.
And her reaction? Perfect.
She panics. Runs like she’s holding a live grenade instead of a high-end vibrator.
I chuckle under my breath, watching her sprint through the store like her life depends on it. She’s so easy to wind up. I plan to keep doing it.
Then, just as I expected, my phone pings.
AMANDA
Are you INSANE?!
I chuckle, shouldering my gear bag and heading toward the transport vehicle.
CHAD
Be more specific, baby doll. I do a lot of insane things.
You sent me a vibrator. To my JOB.
The plane is already waiting on the tarmac, its back hatch open, wind whipping.
You’re welcome.
This is NOT a thank-you moment.
I think it is. I picked out a good one. Dual motors. Remote-controlled.
I can practically hear the way her breath catches, the same way it used to when I’d surprise her with something unexpected. Some things never change.
Remote-controlled.
You know what I’m suggesting.
I adjust the straps on my gear, securing my weapons, barely biting back a grin. This mission can’t end fast enough.
I am NOT doing that at work.
Why not? It’s what you’re already thinking about.
She hesitates. I can see her on the feed, fingers curling around the bag, slowly opening it again. Curious despite herself. Still my Amanda.
I step onto the plane, nodding at my team before sitting down, stretching my legs out in front of me, completely unbothered by the fact that I’m about to jump out of an aircraft while sexting my wife.
Meanwhile, Amanda is staring down at the device like it might bite her.
I ALREADY had this setup with AI Chad.
I chuckle. The plane starts rolling, engines building power.
AI Chad isn’t me. No one will make you come the way I can. Admit it, you’re thinking about it.
She runs her fingers along the smooth silicone, her thumb grazing the control button.
Fuck. I wish it was my cock in her hand instead.
My grip tightens around my thigh. I want her touching me that way, the way she used to.
Want her wrapping her fingers around me, squeezing, teasing, making me ache for her the way she’s aching for me right now.
She suddenly shoves the toy back in the bag.
NO. I’m not doing this. You cannot corrupt me.
You’re already corrupted, baby doll. I’m just helping you admit it.
I’m going back to work now.
I lean back against the metal interior of the plane as we begin taxiing toward the runway.
Me too.
Wait. You work?
Yeah.
Doing what?
I glance at my teammates across from me, checking their parachutes, securing their weapons. Jake catches my eye and taps his watch. Five minutes to jump.
Dangerous stuff.
She hesitates again.
Will I see you tonight?
I exhale slowly, flexing my fingers, shaking out the tension that’s always there before a mission. But this time, it’s worse. Because I’m leaving her. Again. And she doesn’t even know.
In your dreams.
Not in person?
Aww. Don’t sound so disappointed, baby doll.
Oh my God, I am NOT disappointed.
Sure you aren’t.
So that’s a no?
Not tonight. But soon.
Fine. I’m going drinking, then.
I roll my jaw, clicking my knife into its sheath, a hint of irritation curling in my chest. The same protective instinct that got me into this mess eight years ago.
Okay. But be safe.
“All right, let’s go,” Jake calls out, that easy grin replaced by the focused expression he gets before a jump.
I stand, securing my pack, moving toward the edge of the open plane hatch.
The wind whips against my body, the roar of the engines deafening.
The last target. The end of eight years of running.
Then no more missions. No more jumping out of planes. No more watching her through screens.
One more kill, and I get to be Kade and not Chad.
One more kill, and Amanda gets her husband back.
And every man who ever threatened our happiness will be dead.
Be good for me, baby doll.
And then I jump.