Battery Operated Boyfriend: The Q Collection, #7

By Jennie Kew

The things I do for my country…

​Covert recon, special ops, the occasional assassination. The work I do in the shadows keeps people safe. It's what I do. It's who I am. What I am not is a fucking sex-bot. But according to the plump little cutie I just discovered locked away in what is supposed to be a secret bio-weapons laboratory, that's exactly what she needs me to be to ensure her safety and mine. Don't ever let it be said that I'm not up for the job at hand.

​

The things I do for my freedom…

​To guarantee the money and equipment I needed to do my job and save lives, I made a deal with the devil. Now I'm trapped. Held against my will and forced to use my inventions to make state-of-the-art sex-bots, I will do anything to get out of here. But I need help. And the sexy soldier who just snuck into my quarters might be the man to do it. If he doesn't get us both killed first…

 

In this series:

1. No Rest For The Wicked
2. I Saw, I Conquered, I Came
3. Pushing Rope
4. Dirty Laundry
5. Santa Claus Is Coming
6. Carved In Stone
7. Battery Operated Boyfriend
8. Tying The Knot
9. Quirky: The Complete Q Collection

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wooden Key Press
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201851507

Jennie Kew

Jennie has always enjoyed reading but never had aspirations of becoming a published author. At least not until a dance with death made her ask herself what she really wanted out of life. Now she's an award winning romance author, writing about life, love and sex, with humour and all the feels. ​ When not writing stories about her imaginary friends, Jennie can usually be found reading a book, watching a movie or building stuff out of Lego. She lives in regional New South Wales with her husband, her husband’s magnificent beard, and their small menagerie of furry companions. For more information on her books you can check out her website at www.jenniekew.com,  sign up for her newsletter at www.jenniekew.com/newsletter, or follow her on: Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jennie-kew Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16719309.Jennie_Kew​​ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jenniekewauthor

Book preview

Chapter One

Remus

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Turn right in three, two, one, now.

Moving as quickly as I dare, I follow the instructions being fed through my earpiece, trusting my IT and comms specialist, Tech, to direct me to the target safely and without incident.

Our orders came down a few days ago.

We’re to audit one of our government contractors, which is just a fancy way of saying we need to sneak in, check they’re doing everything by the book and not creating unsanctioned weapons of mass destruction, and report back to HQ with our findings.

Man, I hope we find something.

Our preliminary search turned up nothing but redacted files. Not completely unheard of but not exactly above board either. But when Tech dug a little deeper, he found references to a Dr J. Johnson, and something called Project Pork Sword.

For fuck’s sake. My eyes rolled so hard when I read that I think I saw the back of my brain. But that’s what happens when you let virgins name things.

Christ only knows what Project—

Nope. I’m not calling it that.

Christ only knows what the project is. The fact some idiot named it after his dick tells me everything I need to know about the idiot and absolutely nothing about the project.

We need to know what these arseholes are up to. We need to know if those redacted files are something to worry about or just the work of an overzealous intern.

We need to get this shit done so I can go home and feed my cat.

Follow this hallway to the end, then turn left. Follow that hallway to the end and you should see your target. Bio Lab Three.

The dead zone, I murmur, tugging my cap lower to avoid eye contact with a woman coming towards me, pushing a cleaning cart.

Exactly. Once you enter the dead zone, you’ll be on your own. It’s completely shielded from all surveillance, so no comms in or out. No cameras either. You’ll be going in completely blind.

The hallways are virtually empty now, but they won’t be for long. Shift change is about to happen, and if our intel is correct, I should be able to slip inside the dead zone with little to no interference during the changeover. Blend into the crowd.

That’s the main reason I’m in here instead of one of my men. I’m exceedingly average. Not at my job—I’m a decorated soldier, for fuck’s sake. But to look at, certainly.

Average height, average build, a little grey sneaking into my otherwise brown hair, and a borderline ugly face, but not so much as to make me stand out.

My only identifying mark is one barbed-wire tattoo wrapped around my bicep, the remnant of a night out when I was young and stupid and too drunk to realise my mates had poured me into the tattooist’s chair until the pain started, and that’s hidden—along with a small arsenal—under my stolen guard’s uniform.

Anyone watching me wouldn’t know anything was amiss. Except for my boots. Because the only thing about me that isn’t average is my shoe size, and the guard I rendered unconscious so I could steal his clothes had dainty feet. Not that I’m overly worried about anyone seeing my combat boots. People rarely think to look at other people’s feet.

Waiting until the woman has passed me by before whispering, Acknowledged, I turn down the hallway that leads to my target. A brief siren sounds overhead, signalling the shift change, and the hallway quickly fills with people spilling out of one lab and heading to wherever the fuck they need to go, their heads down and their steps hurried. As long as they don’t prevent me from doing my job, I don’t give a fuck where they go.

Keeping my gaze