Free Danger Mine: A Base Branch Novel by Megan Mitcham Page A

you went wild for it. I said if he let us up no questions, he could watch.”
    She’d never been amused by anyone she’d had sex with, but this man beguiled her…and damned if she knew what that meant.
    Most of the time she never saw them after the interaction. Only the club submissives, the guys who frequented her haunt of choice, were safe to cross her path, but they could never ask for a repeat. Those were her rules. Rules she lived by. Rules she’d do well to remember.
    “Too bad for him and you, roof sex isn’t my thing.” Khani freed him from her hold, skirted him, and closed the door. The room sank into darkness save for the twinkle of city lights coming through the row of windows in the back of the office.
    “Ever tried it?” His hot breath penetrated her hair and accumulated at the back of her ear.
    She’d let him at her back. How had that happened? That never happened. Not without major ramifications. She held perfectly still, steeping in the remarkable peace that settled over her. “No.”
    “You on top of everyone, taking your pleasure. Dominating your lover. No holding back. Screaming your orgasm for the world to hear. I think you’d enjoy it.”
    “I think you’d enjoy it,” she whispered. “You should find a nice girl, another roof, and try it out.”
    “No.”
    Khani turned and pushed past him, barely dodging a wastebasket in her haste. She wouldn’t ask why. It didn’t matter. Finding her brother mattered.
    Two desks occupied the small space. A dry erase board with a re-usable calendar hung on the exterior wall opposite the windows. Filing cabinets lined the interior wall. She moved to the first and opened the top drawer. “I made the reservations under my name. Check that board. If you don’t find anything boot up the computer. Can you crack a firewall?”
    “I can do lots of things,” he said, ghosting through the space.
    She turned back to the cabinet. Files hung back to back and filled the drawer close to overflowing. Numbers polluted the tabs, not names. Her hands flew over the markers. They ended fruitlessly at the back of the drawer. “Blast. They’re coded, instead of organized by name.”
    “Are they dates?” He already sat behind the far desk, his fingers flying over the keys.
    “Well, no. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”
    “You know, I like doing things the hard way too.”
    “Really?” she scoffed. “I hadn’t noticed.”
    The drawer closed with a thwack.
    “Weren’t your directives don’t get caught and, uh, don't get caught?”
    “The guard is on the roof waiting for his show. Who’s going to hear?”
    “I’m just saying.” He held one hand out in an, ‘Okay, I told you so,’ kind of way.
    Khani turned to the desk nearest her and plopped into its high-backed chair. She depressed the power button, and waited.
    “What? Are you racing me now?” Street jeered.
    “Maybe. You scared?”
    “Not a triffle. I’m already in.”
    “No way.” The rollers on the chair worked like a gem. She pushed off the floor and zipped across the vinyl.
    He prattled off the information lighting the screen. “Khani and Zeke Slaughter. March 2nd thru 8th, rescheduled. May 11th thru 18th, discount. Hotel Seward reserved for arrival and departure days. Days 1-2, Kenai National Wildlife Refuge. Day 3, Kenai Fjords National Park. Days 4-6, Denali National Park. Day 7, Denali National Park. Guide, Izzy. Paid in full.”
    “Will you…”
    Before she could ask, Street pulled up another window and Googled Hotel Seward. While the Internet worked its magic, he opened the tour company’s payroll program and scrolled through the list of twenty some-odd employees.
    “Isay Polzin, 23, 225 Second Avenue, Seward, AK.” He clicked to the search results, and then to a map. In fractions of a second he had their current location as well as the hotel's and guide’s address in a neat list of directions. “Seward is two hundred kilometers away. And the two are five blocks apart.