Xtreme Affairs (Xtreme Ops Book 4)

by Em Petrova

  She picked at her eggs and fruit, too engrossed in watching River eat. The manly way he moved got her juices flowing all over again, but they didn’t have time.

  His words from the previous night strummed over her senses. Knowing he wanted her to…touch herself…to fantasies of him…

  Moving too quickly to grab a napkin from the center of the table, she bumped her mug. Coffee spilled all over the table, rapidly heading toward River’s lap. With quick reflexes, he jumped up and grabbed a towel. He had the mess mopped in seconds.

  “You’re so much more efficient than I am at six in the morning,” she said, earning another soft smile from him.

  He draped the wet towel over the middle divider in the sink and returned to his breakfast, scarfing it down.

  “When will I see you again?” she asked.

  He lowered his fork midbite. “As soon as I can break away.”

  “You can’t tell me what you’re doing? Not even a hint?”

  With a shake of his head, he pushed his plate away. “I wish I could, baby.”

  “I understand, but I wish I knew your whereabouts.”

  He slanted a glance at the bear spray on the counter. “I wish I knew yours too. I’ve got a team of men guarding me. The least you can do is take the spray.”

  How could she argue with that? “I will. I promise.”

  “What do you have planned all day?”

  “Work. I have emails to answer. My daily call with Momma.”

  He arched a brow. “So things are improving?”

  “Weirdly, yes. It’s as if the instant I left Texas, she decided she needed more of me in her life. I’m so happy for it.”

  He snagged her hand off the table and brought her knuckles to his lips. Gaze locked with hers, he brushed a kiss over her flesh. “I’m happy to hear it.”

  “And I have a…” She sucked in sharply as he sucked her index finger into his mouth. “A…” She issued a shudder of desire. “A filmmaker critique group to meet with later.”

  He kissed the tip of her finger and lowered her hand from his lips. “On campus?”

  “We’re meeting for pizza and then going to this girl’s house. Anything else you need to know, or do you want to keep wasting time when you could be kissing me?”

  A growl escaped him, and he yanked her out of her seat and across his lap. The tingles of need spread rapid-fire through her system, a dark longing that couldn’t be satisfied in the time they had left together.

  The instant she felt his hard-on through his pants, she went for his zipper. “How much time’s left?”

  “Five minutes?” He picked her up and walked her to the closest wall. When he crushed her against it, he cradled her head and claimed her mouth in one move. She moaned against his lips while shoving her pants down her hips.

  He one-handedly worked his fly open and drew his length out. He poised to slide it into her aching core when his phone buzzed.

  Panting, River braced a hand on the wall beside her head. “Cock-blocked. Dammit.”

  She shimmied down the wall to hit her knees in front of him. “Let me get you off before you go.”

  He grunted when she took him in the depths of her mouth. His phone buzzed again, and he stopped her mid-suck with the phone in hand.

  “Baby… Christ, I want to see your mouth working me. But I have to cut this short.”

  Disappointment slumped her shoulders, but she let him guide her to her feet. He gazed at her for several heartbeats before he stamped a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, baby. I…” He paused, throat working on a swallow as if he held back something else.

  When his phone buzzed for a third time, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “I’ll see you soon.” A lump formed in her throat at the thought of him walking out that door.

  He skimmed his lips between her brows and then pushed off the wall, righted his clothes and walked to the door. He picked up his bag and threw her a wave as he disappeared, leaving her alone and aching for him to finish what he started.

  This part of life with River would take some getting used to.

  “Another man dead?” Hepburn asked the minute he jumped into the SUV with the Xtreme Ops team.

  From behind the wheel, Penn gave a solemn nod. “Just discovered about an hour ago. It took a bit for the word to come through to us.”

  Hepburn buckled the seatbelt. “Fill me in.”

  As they drove out of the small neighborhood housing Sascha’s apartment complex, he listened to horrific details of another man found on the edge of some woods.

  “Air Force Lieutenant. Decorated for valor in battle in the Middle East,” Penn told him.

  Lipton read off his phone screen. “He worked night shifts as security at the prison. He clocked out at his normal time but his wife said he never came home. Then the cops found his body on a routine drive-by of the area.”

  “Christ.” Hepburn scrubbed a hand over his face, catching a whiff of Sascha’s sweet scent mixed with lavender on his skin.

  Learning that a man trained to thwart danger had died at the hands of a killer in the same town as Sascha lived and went to class had him grinding his teeth with worry. The idea of her walking alone on campus…or catching the bus home after some group meeting…distracted the hell out of him.

  “We know where you need to be if you’re the decoy, Hep. Right here.” Penn’s statement jerked him back to the present situation but didn’t disperse the image of the bear spray sitting on Sascha’s counter, hopefully not forgotten.

  His team had spent ten days digging deep into the killings and consulting a team of FBI specialists in murder. They set up in Juneau with Hepburn making a lot of noise about being out of work after leaving the military, hoping they could draw in the killer. But the dead end sent them hopping to another part of the state where another of the men had been found.

  “We’ll set up right here in Anchorage. I can go ask for that man’s job at the prison,” Hepburn suggested.

  “Not a bad idea. But we’ll need big eyes on you at all times. I’m not about to lose a member of my team to some sick fucker stalking men and killing them.” Penn took a left that would put them closer to the prison.

  Hepburn would use any spy training he had in his arsenal of talents. He’d need to pull out a few acting skills too.

  He looked out the window at the passing landscape, his cock still hard as stone from having Sascha’s mouth on it. Hell, he’d never met a woman so eager to rise to every sexual challenge that he presented.

  And that expression she wore each time she looked at him made him want to blurt out poetry and tell her how he felt about her.

  How he’d always felt about her.

  They hadn’t been together long. So far, she’d cared for him when he was at one of his low points, and he’d given her a half dozen orgasms. Neither of those things were reasons to spout love words.

  He couldn’t lock her into anything. Or himself, for that matter.

  Oh really? That’s how it is? He started when Ethan’s voice trickled into his head, and Hepburn clamped his hands into fists in his lap.

  You’ll play with my little sister—and fuck her—but you can’t tell her how you feel about her?

  It isn’t like that. It’s too soon. And I’m not playing with her, he spoke to the voice in his imagination.

  She deserves better. She deserves the world.

  I fucking realize that. And I plan on giving it to her. But I need time. So does she. I can’t pressure her into saying something she doesn’t feel.

  Thankfully, Ethan’s imaginary voice stopped, though River was left to mull over everything in a new light.

  No, he couldn’t lead Sascha into feeling anything for him. If she fell in love with him, then it had to be on her terms—not because he pushed her.

  “I can’t eat another bite.” Sascha dropped her half-eaten third slice of deep dish to her paper plate and leaned back in her seat with a groan.

  Maggie la
ughed. “C’mon, you can finish that and have one more slice.”

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head rigorously, causing the guys to laugh too.

  “She’s used to us guys needing a whole pizza to ourselves.” Emerson helped himself to another slice.

  “You’ll have leftovers for breakfast,” Sascha said with a smile.

  “Cold pizza’s top breakfast fare here anyway,” Maggie told her. “Now tell us all the goodies about the program you started in Texas. We love hearing how ours stacks up to others in the country.”

  “It’s a solid program. They focus more on the camera skills side than the journalistic view of film, which is what I’m more interested in.”

  “How close are you to finishing?” Maggie sipped her water.

  Sascha felt the pressure of not being as close to completion as she wanted. She shrugged. “There’s always room for more footage and editing, right?”

  “Exactly.” Maggie looked to the guys. “See? She’s going to fit in with us perfectly. Hurry up and finish eating so we can get started on the critiques. I could really use some feedback on my latest addition.”

  After they ate and stowed away the leftovers in Maggie’s fridge, they sat in the living room circling the TV to view their projects. They started with Blake’s. He was a really good filmographer, using unique angles that added to the piece.

  Emerson’s they had a bit more feedback for, because he’d recently added a lot more footage but hadn’t gotten to the editing stage yet. So they offered ideas on what to subtract and where to move a few clips.

  Maggie’s skills were by far the best of the group. Her piece looked as if it could go up on Netflix right now, which left Sascha more nervous about her reveal.

  When they reached hers, she was so keyed up that she actually knocked over her bottled water on the coffee table and embarrassed herself, mopping it up with paper napkins until Emerson ran to the kitchen for a towel.

  She glanced at him with a smile. “Thank you.”

  He shot her a grin. “I’m glad I’m not the only one spilling things in the group. I’m the reason nobody will set their equipment on the coffee table anymore.”

  She chuckled and carried the towel and soggy napkins to the kitchen. Her clumsiness delayed her film from being on the screen but only until she returned. Once she settled on the floor cross-legged, she held her breath as Maggie hit start.

  While she’d shown some old completed pieces to the class when she first began, nobody had seen this but River. She never did learn if he was unimpressed with her work or if his head injury had kept him stoic about it. Since that day, she’d thought plenty on whether or not he understood what she was going for.

  As her film began, her mind drifted away from what she and the others stared at and to the video her brother had made. Why did she keep returning to that film? She needed to stick to the land of the living.

  Sure, she missed Ethan and seeing the man who was the object of her desires provided a connection she didn’t want to let go of. But there was more to it than that.

  That video was…effortless.

  And hers was a bit on the tortured side, like a canvas overworked with layer upon layer of paint until the forms lost their beauty.

  Silence filled the room, and she realized the film finished. The group sat silent.

  “I have a lot more to do. I want to add in some from the Pride rally I heard about here on campus,” she rambled, twisting her hands.

  “Let’s start with your footage and how that supports the thesis,” Blake said.

  For a while, they discussed things that she did right and several places where she had work to do. Sascha jotted all the notes, but as her pen moved down the page, her heart seemed to sink lower too.

  She looked up at Maggie. Her face was alight with excitement as she shared her ideas on Sascha’s piece. Somehow, seeing that motivated her like nothing else had over the past few months.

  If Maggie had confidence in her taking the piece to the next level, then Sascha should be as optimistic, right?

  As she scribbled down the final notes, she felt that itch to get started. To sit up until all hours making changes.

  “I think I’ll grab another slice of pizza.” Blake stood.

  Sascha reached for her bag and stowed her notebook and pen inside. Then she closed her laptop and slipped it in as well.

  “Are you leaving?” Maggie asked when Sascha got to her feet.

  She smiled. “You guys have inspired me, and I can’t wait to get to work.”

  “Uh-oh. I hear an all-nighter coming on.” Emerson stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “I’ve been there plenty of times.”

  “I hope you all know how honored I am to be included in your group. Thank you for all the feedback on my film.” She shouldered her bag as Blake emerged from the kitchen with a slice of pizza in each hand.

  Everyone laughed at him.

  “Sascha’s leaving. At least stop stuffing your face long enough to say goodbye.” Maggie’s chiding made Sascha think she had younger siblings to boss around.

  Feeling more energized than she had in a while, Sascha hurried to the door and took her leave. She caught the bus home to her apartment and immediately set up at the retro dining table.

  She opened her notes and skimmed through them. As she made her way down the list, she issued a sigh. It was a lot of work, but in the end would be worth it.

  She opened her project on the screen and started on the first note. It didn’t exactly follow a natural progression, so she set it aside to do after a few small tweaks.

  When she finished one task, she moved to the next. But five minutes later she found herself sitting there staring blankly.

  She could hear Ethan drawling in her ear. You puttered out, little sister.

  It’d been a long day. Maybe she was tired. She could start again in the morning when she had more ambition and energy.

  Straightening in her seat, she steeled her spine. No. She’d screwed off too much lately. The impromptu move to Alaska couldn’t even be blamed. That had been oddly simple. She couldn’t even claim that caring for River had taken much of her time.

  The blame lay squarely on her shoulders.

  Since she’d been a student for many years, she’d grown with her study habits. She also knew when she was approaching a deadline and needed to light a fire under her backside. Finishing her film wouldn’t be like cramming for a test. Memorization and putting in hours of work were different beasts.

  She wanted to have an end result to be proud of. She wanted a good grade…for River to smile when he watched her documentary and others to be touched by it.

  If Ethan were alive, she would want to see the gleam of pride in his eyes. He was her reason for pursuing the degree in the first place.

  Sascha got up and paced to the window. Maybe that was her issue. Was this her passion or one her brother believed she possessed?

  The window overlooked a strip of grass separating her building from the next one. If she stuck around and was here in the summertime, she might place a lawn chair and a side table out there to sit and enjoy the nicer weather. But the view offered no inspiration.

  She didn’t need inspiration. She already had all the feedback she needed to improve her project. What she needed was a huge kick in the butt.

  Across the room, her phone buzzed with a text. She drifted from the window to read the message.

  Disappointment flowed into her chest as she saw the unfamiliar number instead of River’s name. But her excitement spread when she read the message.

  A few days before, Sascha pinned a flier to the student body message board offering her services on a part-time basis. This girl needed someone to film her at least once a week and edit the footage for her to upload.

  Quickly, Sascha texted that she could meet her the next day.

  When she finished, she slanted a look at her computer screen again. Why was she actually more excited to do someone else’s work than her own?
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  Chapter Eight

  Hepburn jiggled the door handle of Sascha’s front door. The metal was cheap. The insides of the lock probably plastic.

  A few well-placed kicks could bust the innards and another would smash open the door.

  As soon as he could reach a hardware store, he’d buy a new handle and lock set, along with a chain lock for inside, and install them.

  She wasn’t home, and he’d been sitting out here waiting for her for a good hour. Luckily, he was immune to cold by now, though the steps were hard as hell. He leaned his forearms on his knees, his mind jumping from the shit he’d just done to put himself in the sights of the serial killer, to ideas for taking Sascha out and showing her he was interested in more than sex.

  There was always the ice rink, but he sucked at skating. His guess was that she sucked too, being a Texas girl. That left a few other options, but they all involved having enough time to spend with her, which he didn’t.

  He had two more hours at most before his team needed him. Right now, they were working with the K-9 unit in various sections of the city to try to collect scent trails and follow the course the dead man had taken after leaving his shift at the prison.

  He pushed out a sigh. Where could Sascha be? He should have texted her before showing up. She had a life and was making friends, but these thoughts only annoyed him more. He wanted to be with her. To hold her hand and walk into a restaurant. He’d never wined and dined a woman—had little need of such things. But Sascha changed him.

  In the distance, he heard the rumble of a big engine. Either some dude in the neighborhood owned a souped-up truck with too much horsepower or the bus was approaching the stop.

  At the end of the street, the bus lumbered into view. Hepburn shifted to his feet and gazed toward the stop. When a small figure exited onto the sidewalk, he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face.

  In a short time, his little Texas girl had morphed into an Alaskan snow princess.

  Her short hair was covered in a thick hat sporting a fuzzy ball on top. It bounced on her head as she walked his direction. When she glanced up—finally—and latched her stare on him, his chest threatened to burst.