Xtreme Behavior (Xtreme Ops Book 3) Page 2

  The passion flowing between their mouths had her gasping, and she ran her hands over his muscled pecs to the dips and cuts of his abs to his waist. She whipped his belt open with a hand that seemed much more practiced than she actually was at stripping a man.

  But when Vivian found something she wanted, nothing stopped her.

  And she wanted his cock.

  After more tugging, she pulled his erection free of his pants and hefted it in her hand. “Jesus Christ, Broshears. Who knew you were packing this?”

  His grin flashed. “I was trained to conceal.”

  A rasp of a laugh escaped her, cut short by his mouth again. He kissed her with a dizzying pressure that slicked her with desire all over again.

  Long, heart-throbbing, pussy-pounding seconds later, he broke the kiss and whirled her to face the door. She braced her hands on the cool metal and twisted her face to the side. He placed his lips at her ear as he ran his fingers through the ruffles of her inner pussy folds again.

  “I don’t have a goddamn condom.”

  “It’s okay. I’m on birth control. Give…give it to me, Alix!”

  Oh boy, did he. In one hard thrust, his girthy length that she held in her hand minutes ago filled her. Stretched her. She ground back on his dick, and he erupted in a low growl that had her nipples pebbling.

  He flattened her to the door, hands lashed to her breasts as he pounded into her from behind. He kissed her neck and nipped her ear. Nobody could say this man wasn’t as thorough with his lover as he was with his line of duty.

  Her insides clenched and released. Each time she gripped him with her inner walls, he rumbled and stiffened until the thickness of his cock sent her over the edge.

  “I’m coming!” she burst out.

  His sharp teeth at her neck was his only answer as they thundered to a finish that left her dripping wet with his also impressive amount of cum.

  Still pressed to the door, she realized somebody might open it at any second and they’d spill out into the airport, their pants at their ankles.

  As if realizing they’d been damn lucky this didn’t happen while they were in the throes of ecstasy, Alix pulled out of her. Her pussy clamped on the emptiness, and a hollow ache flooded into its place. Regret? Not quite.

  She’d ponder it later.

  Behind her, she heard the rustle of him righting his clothing. The zip of his black cargo pants. Vivian bent to pull up her own pants. When she tucked her button-down top into the waist and closed the fly, she turned to face Broshears.

  He stood fully dressed, staring at her through the dim light coming through the crack under the door. “Well?” he prompted her for some glorification of his sexual prowess.

  She picked up her bag and looped it over her shoulder, jerking her head toward the fallen mop. “That mop would be a better lover, Broshears.”

  Without another word, she opened the door with all the confidence in the world and stepped out of the closet.

  But not before she caught sight of his grin.

  Chapter One

  “Jesus, are you sure this isn’t a gas explosion?” Broshears stared at the front of the house when they arrived on the scene.

  Smoke rose from the front of the home that strangely looked human with all its teeth knocked out. The roof sagged and the walls remained, but the front of the place had been blasted away.

  Broshears looked to his team captain, and Penn gave the signal for them to move. Weapons at the ready, they ran up closer to the structure. Broshears didn’t believe the threat came in the form of any person, and his team member Lipton would be headed inside first to scope out the situation.

  “The fire department believes this to be a pipe bomb or something?” Lipton’s voice filtered into the communication devices in their ears, above the rumble of engines and beeping of rescue units lining the residential street a safe distance away from the home his team was entering.

  Broshears ducked under a collapsed doorway, scoping the area for victims. Survivors at this point seemed too hopeful.

  Lipton scanned the area with an ETD—explosive trace detector—used to detect certain compounds that might indicate more explosives on the scene.

  “Whatcha got, Lip?” Penn edged through the demolished room that had once been a living room. The frame of a blackened sofa, a chair that still smoldered from the flames that resulted from the blast.

  People once sat here, enjoying movie nights with popcorn. Or watching scenes on the news similar to this.

  “I’m detecting some high levels of sodium chlorate.”

  “An oxidizer.” Broshears edged forward to see Lipton’s screen.

  Lipton gave a nod.

  “A letter bomb?” Moving forward, Broshears swept the room for paper or a package.

  “Gasper, Hep and Broshears, check everything.” Their captain’s command came through their earpieces, and he took the lead. They picked their way through the burned and blackened remains of some person’s life.

  The living room led into a dining room with chairs toppled, and in the far corner, open now to the air, kitchen cupboards had crumbled off the walls.

  “Powerful fucking letter bomb, if that’s what it is.” Along what might have been a countertop, Broshears found the victim.

  “Damn.” Hepburn couldn’t keep the shock or the Texas from his drawl.

  “We got the victim,” Broshears announced to the team.

  Hepburn twisted his face from the corpse.

  “Female?” Penn’s voice came at them as he entered the space.

  Broshears studied the form. “Male, by the looks of it. Hard to tell.”

  “Fuck.” Penn approached from behind.

  Through their protective masks, Broshears met his captain’s eyes. This shit never got easier, no matter what they saw. Senseless death and destruction never computed in a normal human’s mind, and processing the ‘why’ was up there with questioning his purpose on Earth.

  “Get me the details on this address. I want names and ages of inhabitants, right down to the family cat.” Penn snapped off the instruction, and Broshears gave a nod of affirmative.

  He picked his way out of the wreckage. When he reached the side yard, he got to work finding answers. Right away the information came up on his device screen, and he read it off to the team as he hurried back inside.

  “Broshears, help me with this.” Lipton crouched on the floor with a metal instrument in hand and a big plastic baggie.

  When he sank to assist, he saw what was most likely the source of the explosion. The wrappings of a package were nothing but charred flakes of paper, but they could be analyzed. One piece had a letter or two of the address left in black marker.

  “What the hell happened here?” He took the bag and held it open for Lipton to drop the contents into.

  “Looks as if someone has an enemy who sent him a package he didn’t want him to live through opening.” Behind his plastic mask that protected him from harmful fumes, Lipton’s expression narrowed on his task.

  “Must have been strong components in that bomb. Any manifesto with the packaging?” Broshears used a gloved finger to sift through some rubble where the package laid. The victim’s body lay feet away, but Broshears avoided looking at it.

  “Haven’t come across anything yet. It’s going to take the bomb unit a few days to search the house. I don’t think it would hurt to have some K-9s on the job—in case something else was planted and this wasn’t actually shipped through the mail or a courier.” Using long tweezers, Lipton lifted the corner of another bit of packaging.

  At the mention of K-9s, Broshears’ insides clenched. It’d been months since his encounter with Vivian Valentine at the airport. Not as if he sat on his ass ruminating on what happened or asked himself why it ended up with them inside a janitor’s closet with his dick in her.

  Their jobs overlapped far too often to have tension between them, but luckily they hadn’t crossed paths since.

  He’d replayed the intense mom
ents in that closet many times, and they invaded his dreams on more than one night. If he closed his eyes right this second, he’d still feel Vivian’s curves beneath his hands and the grip of her tight heat hugging his cock.

  He refocused on the talk going on in his comms device—Penn putting out the call to headquarters for a K-9 unit. Part of him gave a thrill at the thought of seeing her again.

  She may not be the handler to answer the call, though she did work well with the Xtreme Ops team and she’d likely be the one to show up.

  As Lipton dropped another piece into the bag, Broshears peered at the area. “This couldn’t have been sent through the mail without detection. It’d never make it through the system.”

  “I suspect the bomb elements were concealed in some type of lead container.”

  Broshears looked up. “Have you seen such a thing?”

  He shook his head, concentration pinching his brows as he lifted another bit of wrapping with more handwriting on it. “Shit was thrown all over the place. If it exists, it could have been blasted into another yard for all we know yet.”

  “Handler’s on her way.” Penn’s announcement brought a jolt to Broshears.

  Lipton glanced at him. “You good, man?”

  “Yeah.” Except his pulse was pounding so loud he could hear it echo in his ears. And those images from the closet bombarded his brain rapid-fire. Vivian’s round ass crushed against his groin as he thrust into her from behind, deeper and deeper, the flavor of tequila and pussy on his lips.

  Fuck!

  “Grab another bag out of my kit,” Lipton told him.

  He surfaced from his lurid fantasies for a brief moment to do his bidding. Then he abruptly dropped into memories again. Vivian hadn’t held back one iota when it came to her pleasure, and the fact that she gave herself to him so freely both excited and irritated him.

  If she jumped into the closet with him, how many others were there? He knew from previous missions that the woman was all balls, pushing farther, harder, her determination to do her job to the utmost success without limits.

  She bent the rules on the last mission, and Broshears had called her out on it. They’d parted that day with more than a few glares at each other. So when he found her day-drinking alone at the airport, he questioned if he should walk away and forget he saw her.

  In the end, he was glad he stopped to see her safe. God knew what crazy person might have tried to pick her up in her buzzed state.

  “Only one man lives at this address. He has an outdoor cat, according to neighbors.” Gasper’s voice projected to them all.

  Broshears blew out a breath of relief. “Someone considered him an enemy, but at least we won’t be uncovering more bodies.”

  Lipton nodded and then held out another set of tweezers to him. He took them in order to assist in lifting a much larger sheet of paper wrapping. It was nearly intact, though black and crumbling. They managed to slip it slowly into the bag with only a few bits breaking off.

  When he looked up, Penn hovered near them. Lipton spared him a glance. “We need a sweep of the place for some sort of container that might be made of lead. If this went through the post office, and I think it did, then any substance would be concealed by lead to avoid the X-rays.”

  “You heard Lip,” Penn said. “Get on it.”

  “I got it from here, Broshears. Thanks.” Lipton returned his attention to his task, and Broshears straightened to begin the search.

  After a while, the ATF arrived on the scene. Broshears growled at seeing their van pull up in the street.

  “ATF’s here.”

  “Keep those fuckers out until I’m finished,” Lipton barked.

  “I’ll hold them off.” Broshears stepped out of the hole where a wall once stood. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the big white truck with kennels in the back for the search dogs. When he spotted the woman climbing from the driver’s side, his insides clutched.

  Vivian Valentine wearing the jeans he’d stripped over her curvy hips back at the airport only slightly rivaled Vivian Valentine in uniform.

  The black pants hugged her ass, he didn’t notice for the first time. And the jacket pulled slightly across her breasts.

  She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, but he remembered well how her release vibrated through every inch of her tiny, quivering body.

  One of the ATF agents started toward the house. Broshears blocked his way. “We require a few more minutes before you go in.”

  The guy grunted. “Your team’s been a pain in our asses since the day you landed in Alaska. Go back to wherever you came from and let us do our jobs.”

  Vivian stood at the back of her truck, looking their way and listening to the exchange.

  Broshears had a protocol to follow, and that was to play nice with other agencies. But men like this ATF agent made him grind his teeth. “A few minutes is all we ask.”

  “I’ll give you ten and then we’re going into that building whether you’re ready or not.” He snorted. “You act like we never handled explosions before you special operatives graced us with your presence.”

  Vivian’s lips twitched, and she ducked her face. Busying herself with the dog she called Zack, she managed to hide any smiles from Broshears.

  “ATF’s being a dick as usual,” he drawled into his comms. “Ten minutes before they start destroying our work.”

  “What the hell? Tell them to stuff it up their tight asses.” Gaspers’ remark warranted several chuckles, and Broshears bore the brunt of the ATF agent’s glare.

  He kept half an eye on the dude, but his interest really lay in the woman talking to the German Shepherd she released from its cage. The perfectly-trained animal sat with ears up and alert, waiting patiently for her to clip the leash onto his collar.

  She spoke a command, and Zack jumped down from the truck, landing with a display of physical skill. From what Broshears knew of these dogs, they required daily activity and training. Their handlers walked miles with them each day and worked a course with them too, which meant his handler was in fantastic physical shape.

  From touching her, he knew how toned her muscles were and lamented not being able to see them.

  She turned and looked straight at him. Yep—balls. The woman wouldn’t back down even out of embarrassment.

  Perhaps she wasn’t embarrassed by what they’d done.

  Throwing a sharp look at the ATF agent to ensure the man didn’t budge until his full ten minutes were up, Broshears hurried over to Vivian. Zack went on alert at his approach.

  He extended a hand to the dog and when he caught his scent and remembered they’d met before, his ears relaxed. His handler not so much.

  Vivian sent him a look. “What do you want, Broshears?”

  He recalled her parting words to him—that a mop would be a better lover—and bit back a grin. She walked a pace or two ahead of him, also giving him a vivid memory of the globes of her ass as she bent to pull her pants up after he drew his cock out of her dripping folds.

  Heat slithered through him.

  “I was about to give you the rundown of the scene, but if you’re throwing attitude, I’ll let you find out for yourself.” He lengthened his strides to pull ahead of her. Damn if she didn’t give Zack a command to catch up.

  When they entered the bombed building, they did so at the same moment. He lacked the time to goad her, because Penn called him away, and half an hour passed before he saw her again.

  She emerged from the building with Zack in the lead. She led the animal to the front sidewalk. Her naturally black hair was gathered off her face in a ponytail, and he could still feel the thick lock he pushed back with his finger right before he kissed her.

  Zack stopped on the sidewalk and indicated to some debris that had been launched from the force of the blast. He sniffed it and his ears flicked. Vivian picked up his cue and crouched to peer at the item.

  “I think it’s shrapnel from the lead case Lip’s looking for. I’ll get him.” Broshe
ars turned to go back inside. When he came out again, Vivian stood in the yard speaking to the ATF with Zack at her side.

  She spotted him coming out and quickly broke off the conversation to hurry to her truck. He should ignore her. They didn’t need to talk about their professional slip of sleeping together.

  Or in this case, him banging her against a door and her begging for it.

  Yet he strode forward to catch her. She avoided his gaze as she urged Zack back into his kennel and locked the door.

  “You’re finished here?” he asked her.

  “Yes.” She circled her truck to the driver’s side and he hurried to the opposite side. Even the steel as a barrier between them couldn’t stop his cock from twitching with the urge to sink inside her one more time.

  “What did you find?” he asked.

  “Same thing you did. Bomb substances. That lead case you mentioned. No other bodies besides the one your team found.” She pulled open the door but hesitated.

  His chest tightened—did she want to say something more to him?

  They couldn’t discuss anything about that incident here in the open where his team would overhear. He followed rules, and fucking people they worked with was a strict rule in their division. Apparently in the East, one of the team members had screwed a mission because he got too close to a woman he shouldn’t have trusted.

  Vivian’s eyes were the rich color of a good cognac. Something he rarely drank in his life but might start sampling more of. Across the truck, she met his stare.

  What he saw in the depths wasn’t passion or desire. He never realized his hopes were up until they plummeted. A different sort of question lingered in her eyes.

  “Broshears, I wondered if I can have a look at the evidence you gathered before I leave.”

  She hadn’t asked for his tongue on her clit or his balls slapping her ass, and it was for the better.

  He gave a nod. “Come with me.”

  Leaving Zack in the safety of the cage, they headed back to the house. Seeing Broshears again left Vivian a little too off balance for her peace of mind.