Codename: Kryptonite

Chapter Fourteen

Agent Mission Log Entry:

This younger version of POTUS still hasn't explained the origin of my codename. I'm not at all comfortable being the only one that doesn't know. But, I have begun to wonder if it's even something I want to know.

Several times, it's been almost as if I could hear POTUS from my time saying with that arrogant little chuckle of his, "I told ya so, Gabbs." I hate to admit that there is an attraction between us, almost too strong to call it simply 'an attraction'. It's almost chemical. I'm doing my damnedest to control it, even being my most bitchy self to him in an effort to push him away. I have to.

Both our lives are on the line.

Gabriella left his room quickly and headed for the kitchen. She could smell the welcome early morning smell of coffee and knew the before-mentioned Janet must be a treasure to her employer. In her time, President Bongiovi couldn't even tell you his name before he'd had that first cup of coffee.

Once in the kitchen, she quickly poured herself a cup, adding cream and sugar, before taking the cup and going off to do a security check of the penthouse. Janet's arrival had woken her earlier, but she'd jumped behind the couch she'd been sleeping on with her gun in hand until she was sure that the intruder wasn't a threat. The older woman had come bustling into the apartment humming some tune only she knew, and carrying a small bag of groceries. Obviously, her employer had asked her to pick up a few things on her way in that morning. When she heard the soft beeping that indicated the woman was inputting the security code, Gabby had dismissed the woman as a threat and gone to hide in Jon's bedroom.

After a quick perusal of the premises, Gabby was sure all was safe for POTUS to meet the day. While she'd been checking windows and doors, she'd made a momentous decision. She would quit thinking of Jon as Jon. A man. He was her mission. Nothing more.

Seeking another cup of joe, she returned to the kitchen, patting herself on the back for managing to avoid Janet during her search. The older woman had gone first to the kitchen to deposit her bag of groceries; that was when Gabby had made a beeline to Jon's bedroom. Gabby had been able to make a complete security check while the older woman had been in the laundry room taking clothes out of the washing machine and putting them in the dryer, and then putting another load in the washer. Janet managed to make a lot of noise, not even trying to be quiet because she was safely on the opposite side of the apartment from the master bedroom.

Gabriella stopped short just inside the door of the kitchen. Janet was there taking breakfast ingredients out of the refrigerator, and across the room standing at the counter was a shirtless, barefoot, disheveled, and too damn sexy for his own good, POTUS.

Jon stood leaning against the counter, with one hand braced beside his hip, the other held a steaming cup of coffee, a pair of drawstring pajama pants riding low on his hips. Even in his relaxed position, the muscles on display were quiet impressive. There was a large amount of cocky arrogance to him, even this early in the morning. It was the kind of arrogance that came part and parcel with knowing a woman's body better than she knew her own, and knowing that more women than not found him quite the most gorgeous thing walking upright.

He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup with a twinkle in those blue orbs. When the cup lowered, the smile she expected stretched those full lips. "Good morning, Gabbs. Janet's just about to start breakfast. How do you like your eggs?"

She froze in place. Gabbs? Why did this version of POTUS using that pet name for her effect her like this? The bottom had fallen out of her stomach, and the world seemed to tilt slightly. The buzzing in her head was almost so loud that if she didn't know better, she'd swear she'd had way too much alcohol.

"Oh, where are my manners? Gabriella, this is Janet. Janet, Gabby. She'll be staying with me for a while." Jon didn't offer any explanations for her presence there, and Janet was discrete enough not to ask. The older woman just nodded at Gabby and went about her business as if the two of them weren't in the room.

"Scrambled," Gabby managed to mumble.

Jon turned toward the stove where Janet now stood preparing to start cooking. "You heard the woman, Jan."

That's when Gabriella noticed the tattoo on his left bicep just inches from his shoulder bone. She'd never seen her boss shirtless before, and somehow never noticed it in the few pictures she'd found in her pre-mission research. A Superman symbol? Holy fuck.

Kryptonite.

Suddenly, she felt so stupid. She had always respected the man. In her job, you weren't supposed to care whether you agreed with the current President's political views or decisions; you were just supposed to respect the office and protect the man that held it. But, she had greatly admired and respected him. She knew all about his philanthropic endeavors, and his desire to make changes. He had inherited a lot of problems from the previous administration when he'd taken office, but he'd handled it all with a positive outlook, a can-do attitude, and a steel resolve. He hadn't quite fixed everything, but he was working on it. She had looked up to him, and he had made her the butt of a joke. What an idiot she'd been to ask him what it meant! Why hadn't it ever occurred to her before?

"It was just a joke to you? I was just a joke?" she demanded. Right that minute, the assassin could've busted in the penthouse and Gabby would've let him have Jon.

Turning back to face her, Jon frowned in confusion. What the fuck had he done? "What?"

She stabbed the air with her finger, jerking it in the general direction of his arm. "Kryptonite, huh?" She turned on her heel and stalked from the room.

Jon followed her all the way to the hall, before he finally grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. "You're blaming me for things I haven't done yet. Again." His voice was low and tight, low enough for only her to hear.

"You haven't given me the name yet, but you've certainly shared in the joke. Don't deny it."

His gaze instantly heated, quickly igniting to blue flames. "There's two things I never joke about, baby. And fucking's at the top of the list. My future self gave you that codename for reasons that were far from a joke, I can assure you. He apparently had a soft," he paused to chuckle dirtily, and pass a hot glance down her body, "I mean...hard spot for you."

She gasped in outrage, and he pulled her closer to him, molding her curves to fit his hard planes. He swept one hand down her back to cup her bottom and pull her tighter against him. "And that's something he and I definitely have in common."

Gabby had no trouble feeling his point. She started to shake her head in denial, but his lips met hers stopping the motion of her head.

His kiss was hot, almost combustible, but definitely volatile . His tongue swept past her lips to duel with hers. He completely overwhelmed her as he tasted every corner of her mouth. One hand was in her hair, and he used the other forearm at the small of her back to keep her pressed tightly against his arousal. Her nipples pebbled, stabbing his bare chest through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, almost making him lose control, but somehow he managed to get a grip on his passion. He pulled back from her slightly, and nipped at her fuller bottom lip, now swollen from his kiss.

Gabby opened her eyes to try and focus on his face above hers. What had she been about to say?

"I never joke about fucking," was his parting shot, before he turned and walked away.