by Em Petrova
“Well, Zack doesn’t have any balls, so bacon is all he has now.”
At that, she cracked up laughing, the sound heaven to his soul. He withdrew from her and stood, watching her rearrange her bra to cover her still hard, well-sucked nipples.
When he drew his sweats into place, she trapped her lip between her teeth once more and gave him that look—the one that told him she wanted more. And fuck—he wanted to give it to her.
She stood fastening her shirt buttons, watching him watch her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Well…”
He narrowed his eyes.
“I hoped you’d have a full stomach before I brought this up to you.” She gnawed at her lip now.
“What is it?”
“I…want to go visit Geri. In prison.”
He jerked hard at her unexpected words. Of all the things she could have said, this caught him off guard.
“Geri?” he asked in case he’d misheard her and she said Mary or Harry.
She nodded.
“Why?”
She thought about it a moment and then spread her hands. “I’m not exactly sure myself. It’s something I need to do. Maybe it’s to extend my condolences for the loss of the man she loved. Maybe it’s personal closure.” She gave an uncomfortable shrug.
He stepped up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m surprised you brought it up to me before going alone.”
“I want things to be open and honest between us—always. Hiding a visit to the woman who almost killed you—and my dog—didn’t feel right.”
His heart tumbled. If he hadn’t already been head over boots for her, he’d fallen even more.
He brushed a kiss across her brow. “Thank you for that. For including me as part of your life.”
She tilted her head up, surprise washing over her features. “You are my life, Alix. So…will you go with me?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “That is if you’ll come to company headquarters with me for a celebration later.”
“Celebration?” A smile toyed at the corner of her luscious lips.
“Yes, a party for Penn.”
“Is it his birthday?”
“No. Operation Freedom Flag is awarding him for leading fifteen successful missions in a row. The most recorded yet in the US.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It is, and I’m proud to be part of it.”
“As if you need more fame with your interview releasing next week.”
He waved a hand, scoffing it off. But she heard his phone buzzing day and night with emails and calls asking for more from him.
She looped her arms around his neck. “I’d be honored to join your celebration. What should I wear?”
“Anything you’re comfortable wearing.”
“A dress?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’ve never seen you in a dress, but I’ve been mighty curious about those high heels by the front door, Valentine.” He picked her up, and she squealed as he carried her off to the bedroom.
“What are we doing?”
“Getting cleaned up to go visit Geri. Then on to the celebration.” His eyes smoldered. “After that…” He kissed her tenderly.
When they broke apart, she was shaking. She cradled his angular jaw. Would there ever be a time when she wasn’t burning for Alix Broshears?
Epilogue
The walls of the company headquarters vibrated with the loud music Gasper blasted from the TV speakers, the playlist consisting of good old-time rock and roll with some newer country tunes to appease the Texans in their group, Penn and Hepburn.
Pizza boxes were stacked along one wall, but the case of beer was missing, a strict no-drinking rule in place in the event they were called away from Penn’s party to stop some threat.
Two bigwig colonels from Operation Freedom Flag had shown up to present Penn with a medal and shake his hand. Broshears couldn’t be happier for his captain, so when the pair approached him and asked for a moment, he was taken by surprise.
He threw a glance at Vivian, standing off to the side talking with a few of the guys. Zack had come with them, and he remained by her.
He turned to his superior officers and nodded. They waved a hand for him to follow and led him outside.
The fresh Alaska air held a tinge of a chill as well as the tang of snow coming. He didn’t need to look at the gray clouds banking on the horizon to know snow would dust the ground overnight. Alaska had become part of who he was…and being linked to an Alaskan woman deepened that.
Standing before the officers, he waited for them to get to the point.
“We’d like to tell you what an honor it is to meet with you today, Special Operative Broshears.”
He blinked. “Sir?”
“We of course know of the many offers you’ve been receiving, and we are humbled that you chose to remain with OFFAT and the Xtreme Ops team,” one told him.
He bowed his head. “Thank you, Colonel.” He turned to the other and nodded in appreciation.
“We of course don’t wish to pull you away from a place where your skills serve us, but if you ever feel restless and wish to make a move from Alaska, we’ll more than welcome you in Washington.”
Broshears couldn’t help but feel moved by the invitation and their faith in him. He snapped to attention and gave a salute. Both colonels saluted in return and then walked back inside.
He took a moment to compose himself, drawing in deep breaths of air. At that minute, Hepburn walked outside.
“Didn’t know you were out here,” he drawled with his usual twang.
Broshears examined his friend’s face closely. “Everything good, man?”
He swiped a hand over his face. “Yeah, just a little claustrophobic in there.”
Broshears sensed there was more. “Wanna discuss it?”
“Not really.” He grated out a laugh. “It’s family shit. They can wear on you even from hundreds of miles away.”
“You have brothers, right?”
“Yeah, a younger one. He’s in some…trouble.”
Broshears arched a brow but didn’t pry. Hepburn would confide or not. Most times with military buddies, they didn’t.
“You should know that I asked for some leave to go home and try to help my momma with him.”
Broshears couldn’t escape the tightness he felt in his chest at the thought of Hepburn not being on his six. “How long?”
“I took two weeks, but Penn says he can grant me longer leave if I need it.”
Extending a fist, he said, “Let’s hope you don’t.”
Hepburn bumped knuckles with him and then offered him a smile that looked more like the man that he knew and loved. “Better get in there, Broshears. Don’t want somebody to snag your girl.”
He chuckled. “As if any of you dicks could be as good as me.” Hepburn’s laugh followed him through the door. His gaze fell on Vivian.
Her gaze caught his. In a heartbeat, he read all the love and desire in her beautiful warm cognac eyes.
When he strode up to her and grasped her by the elbow, she turned toward him. “Excuse me, guys,” she broke from the conversation with Lipton and Pax.
Broshears led her a few steps away and then pressed his lips to her ear. “Why don’t I give you a tour of my hotel room? OFFAT put us up in style for this occasion.”
A shiver ran through her. “I wondered if there’s a closet.”
He growled low in his throat. “Don’t tempt me, woman.”
She smiled up at him. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been living for that from the beginning, Alix.”
“You may be right. Why don’t we grab some pizza and spend some time alone?”
“I’d love that. Of course, I always love being with you.” She paused and set her palm over his heart. “Thank you for coming with me to visit Geri. I…needed to close that door.”
“Of course, honey. I’m always here to support you.” Zac
k brushed against his thigh, and he released his hold on Vivian in order to scratch the dog’s ears. He’d become such a good friend to Broshears as well.
“You really are the best man for me, Alix.”
Startled by her statement, a smile stretched wide over his face. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you how good I can be.”
She went on tiptoe to brush a kiss over his jaw. In a heated whisper, she said, “That’s what I’m counting on.”
THE END
Don’t miss out on Book 4 of the Xtreme Ops series—XTREME AFFAIRS
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Ross raised his glass of whiskey to his lips, but he never got to take a sip because a sexy woman clad only in a red, sheer thong shoved his drink aside.
She grabbed him by the western string tie he wore and leaned in close. “You want a piece of this, sugar?” Then she lifted one dainty foot sporting a red stiletto with feathers and planted it on the chair between his thighs, an inch from his balls.
His brothers, a couple cousins and his lifelong buddies at the table hooted and started tossing dollar bills his direction. Music pulsed and the women dancing onstage looked like disco balls with colored lights hitting their scanty costumes. Two were completely naked.
“Who picked this place for our weekly meeting anyway?” He snagged a handful of crumpled bills off the table. The dancer swished around to present her ass. With a coy glance over her shoulder, she bent over for him.
“Stick the bills in her thong!” his brother called when Ross sat immobile for a heartbeat too long.
He pulled the string out of the crack of her ass and wedged the bills under it. When he let it snap back in place, she whipped to face him with a glare.
She sashayed to the next table and straddled a businessman who was three sheets to the wind and probably had more money to waste.
Ross took his whiskey in hand and relished the slow burn slipping into his stomach. Christ, what a week. The guys who made up WEST Protection probably thought that holding their weekly meeting at a strip club would be a good way to unwind. But he didn’t need a silk-covered ass waving her goods in his face to let loose.
Hell, he partied at least once a…
He thought long and hard about the last time he had more than a drink or two or took a beautiful woman up against a wall. His brows scrunched, and he caught his little brother, Boone, looking at him.
“What are you starin’ at?” He slugged back his whiskey and breathed through the flames.
“You didn’t even look twice at that woman. She was waving her ass in your face! Did you even notice her clit was pierced?” Boone’s white Stetson flashed with rainbow lights from the nearby stage.
“She had her clit pierced? How did I miss that?” His other little brother jumped to his feet and waved a hand for the dancer to come back, but she simply blew him a kiss and moved on to another table.
“Shiiiiieeet, Ross. Running a company’s making you old before your time.” Boone motioned to a waitress to bring another round of whiskey. They’d shoved together four tables to make enough room for all ten of them who made up WEST Protection security company. They were either drinking, eyeing up beautiful women or both. All but him.
Maybe Boone was right—he was getting old before his time. But that happened to men who were driven to reach goals. His plan to scale up in the course of a year had exploded them onto the map, and now they couldn’t even handle the calls they were receiving for security details, requests for personal protection officers and even help with guarding identities over the internet with their tech branch.
Wait until he told the guys about putting his next plans into action in order to take over the western US before spreading south.
Boone said something to him, and he blinked away his thoughts. “What was that?”
“You got too much manure in your ears, brother! If you’re not on the ranch, you’ve got your head in a business plan or a case file. I said that dancer was waving at you from across the room.”
He didn’t bother to look. He wasn’t interested in a woman who would wiggle her ass in the face of any man waving a buck. He sipped his whiskey and kicked back instead, watching his employees’ interest in the scheduled meeting fade fast.
A dancer with big, perky tits headed their way, and all nine of his men whipped off their white Stetsons in her honor. Ross grunted, watching their antics as they plied her with money in trade for a peek at those big, hard nipples up close.
They needed to discuss so many things. The agenda he’d memorized floated away as he realized they weren’t going to talk about protecting the governor from death threats, or even how to reduce the hundreds he received a day to a dozen. There wasn’t an opportunity to go over details about security at the banks being hit with armed robberies or the countless security systems they were being paid to plug the holes in.
The dancer moved on, and the guys placed their hats back on their heads.
He tugged the brim of his own white Stetson, a trademark of WEST Protection, and raised his voice. “I have an announcement.”
They all stopped talking and focused on him.
“I received a call from a woman who heads the planning team for the Grammys.”
Nobody spoke.
“As in Grammy Wynton?”
Ross’s lips twisted. “Not that type o’ Grammy. I mean the Grammys. The big awards that happen annually.”
Everyone blinked at him. All except for Boone, who stared at Ross as though he’d lost the ability to close his eyelids.
“You got… us a job…working security…for…the…Grammys?” Boone spaced out the words in a slow drawl.
He shook his head. “Nothing’s finalized. No contracts signed.”
“But they’ll offer,” Boone put in with stone-cold conviction.
Ross ducked his head in the Wynton nod handed down through the men of his family, along with a deep dimple in each of their cheeks. “Looks like it might happen. And if it does, we need more hires. The best of the best, ya hear?” He pointed to his youngest brother Noah.
“Damn, brother, I admit I never believed you when you said WEST would be the biggest security company in the US.” His middle brother Josiah pinned a stare on him.
“Not yet we aren’t. And if we do reach the top—”
“Which we will,” interjected Boone.
Ross went on, “Then we can’t get lazy. We have to actually be the best. We haven’t invested in all this training, the new Wyoming office, infrastructure, top-of-the-line computer systems and other high-priced gear only to let it all go with laziness.”
“Look around you, Ross. Is there a single man here you’d call lazy?” Josiah spoke up.
If their determined expressions and muscled shoulders didn’t say enough, he’d witnessed firsthand how damn lethal every man seated at this table was. Upon inception of the company, the first thing he did was fly everyone to Michigan to a top facility for training with elite soldiers from all over the world. Now they could handle everything including hostage rescues, reconnaissance, military combative techniques and could even treat trauma patients. And that was only the bodyguard division. The tech team had their own top training.
He started to answer Josiah, but his phone vibrated on the table next to his hand. He glanced at the number and didn’t recognize it.
But he never let a call go. As a result, he listened to a lot of spam calls about his car’s extended warranty. Usually the people who contacted him were clients sent to him by word of mouth.
“That the girl you were twirling around the dancefloor the other night, Ross?” his brother teased.
“Don’t you guys know I’m older than my years and my personal life’s in the shitter?” His comment had them all laughing. He snatched the phone on the second buzz and brought it to his ear.
“Ross Wynton.”
“Uh…Ross?” The feminine voice came off as breathy, but may
be it was the music drowning her out.
“Yes, who is this?”
“It’s Pippa.”
He froze. He only knew one woman named Pippa.
“Pippa Hamlin.”
His mind threw up a file of her containing image and description. Pippa, daughter of his father’s best friend. Last he’d heard, she graduated Yale or some other Ivy League school with magna cum laude and a degree in molecular something or other. Last he’d seen her had been a big family barbecue when her family came from Portland to visit his in Stone Pass, Montana. He couldn’t recall much besides her being in that stage of her teens where guys didn’t notice them.
That and she’d taken a fall off a horse, despite convincing him and his brothers that she could ride.
“Pippa?” He stood and wove his way through the club to the exit so he could hear her better. Passing several dancers who stopped to wink at him, he listened to the silence projecting into his ear on the other end of the line.
Once he burst outside into the cold Montana air, he said, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Her voice still came out too soft.
“Is everything all right?”
A beat of silence followed. Then she said, “Not all right. All wrong. I’m boarding flight 68 to Montana right now. I need you to pick me up at the airport.”
His protective senses kicked in. “Pippa, where are you? What’s going on?”
Another long pause and then her whisper sent shivers through him. “I’m being followed, Ross.”
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Em Petrova
Em Petrova was raised by hippies in the wilds of Pennsylvania but told her parents at the age of four she wanted to be a gypsy when she grew up. She has a soft spot for babies, puppies and 90s Grunge music and believes in Bigfoot and aliens. She started writing at the age of twelve and prides herself on making her characters larger than life and her sex scenes hotter than hot.