Brothers in Blue: Max

by St. James,Jeanne

  “Here, fill out an application. I’ll call you when I’m interviewing.” She turned sharply, heading into the kitchen. He followed her and tossed the pen and paper onto the kitchen table. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter.

  “Amanda…”

  Amanda raised one hand to stop him from nearing. She needed to set some ground rules first. “You’re not my keeper.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not your business.”

  He paused, slightly longer than he should have, before answering. “I know.”

  “You’re only agreeing with me to appease me.” If he answered her with an I know again, she was going to kick him where it hurt.

  Amanda headed toward the sunroom.

  “That’s right, walk away like the little girl that you are.”

  Amanda stopped in her tracks.

  That son of a bitch! She spun and headed right back to him. She stood five-three looking up at his six-two.

  With a muttered curse, she reached up, grabbed his shirt collar, and pulled his head to her. As her lips raked his, she could feel his surprise. His mouth parted, allowing her to shove her tongue between his lips.

  Their tongues mated and fought; he angled his head to get even closer. His hands came up to grab her hips. Flushed and out of breath, Amanda stepped back with a calculated look. She unbuttoned her ivory blouse. Slowly. Releasing one shiny button from its prison, then another. Until her blouse hung open, exposing her tan, tight abdomen and her gold belly ring. His eyes raked her black, lacy bra and the rounded flesh above it. Her nipples hardened. Her breath caught.

  Amanda slipped the smooth fabric over her shoulders, and with a shrug her blouse slid to the floor.

  She reached up to touch the front clasp that barely kept her breasts in check.

  “Amanda,” he warned again, but could only manage to suck in a breath when her fingers released the clasp and her full breasts escaped. “Jesus!”

  “So, Officer Bryson, am”—her voice caught—“am I a little girl?”

  Max’s eyes gleamed darkly as he raised them from her chest to her face. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “No.” His nostrils flared as if he were fighting a demon inside. “Hell, no.”

  With a throaty laugh, she pulled off the bra, dropping it to the floor with her discarded blouse. Lifting a hand to her throat, she trailed a finger down her chest to circle one of her painfully hard nipples. She crossed over to circle the other one. She bit her lip and threw her head back, her eyelids lowered. Amanda’s breathing deepened as she slid her hand over her flat belly and circled a red fingernail around her gold belly ring. Then she went lower.

  Max was still. So still. Too still. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. Here. Now. Why wasn’t he moving?

  “Fuck,” she groaned. Continuing a path downward, she popped open the snap on her skirt; then the slide of the zipper sounded deafening.

  She flicked her tongue over parted lips, leaving a trail of moisture. She was panting ever so slightly.

  Max’s eyes had followed every move. He had been glued in place. Until now…

  He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up, turned around, and practically tossed her onto the counter. Grabbing her waistband, he ripped her skirt down over her hips, taking her thong underwear with it in one handful.

  Amanda said nothing. Their words always seemed to ruin the moment. She didn’t want that. She wanted his body against hers, his weight crushing her, his lips on every part of her. She needed his tongue to dip into every crevice.

  She wanted to scream a mindless scream as she orgasmed over and over.

  And she wasn’t disappointed.

  One second he was looming above her, and in the next, he was down on his knees, spreading her thighs, looking closer.

  Then he took her in his mouth. He flicked her clit with his tongue once, twice, before stroking it. Amanda dropped her head back against the cabinet and let out a low wail. She blindly reached for him, grabbing the back of his head, pulling him closer, if that was possible.

  His fingers separated her heat, stroking along with his tongue, tasting, nipping. Just teasing, teasing until her inner muscles clenched with need.

  He dipped his tongue into her, torturing her. He was torturing her! His fingers replaced his tongue, thrusting deep as his lips captured her clit once more. He suckled as his fingers found a rhythm.

  She forced herself to swallow her scream; she didn’t want to wake Greg. She didn’t want him wandering downstairs to find his sister spread-eagle on the counter while the local cop was treating her like a smorgasbord.

  Her thoughts evaporated as his thumb replaced his mouth on her clit and he stood. But his lips clamped on her nipple and his free hand found her other breast. He pinched her nipple, twisted it enough to make her arch her back. His teeth scraped the other over and over; then his tongue would soothe away the sting.

  She let out a soft gasp, then a low wail as she felt the orgasm start. Her muscles exploded into furious contractions around his fingers. Max stiffened and paused. He lifted his head and looked at her.

  “Holy shit,” was all he said before he took her mouth, plundering her, thrusting his fingers in her, starting the pleasure all over again. She tasted herself on his lips and she almost came again, but he pulled away.

  In what seemed like a split second, Max was standing naked before her. Beautiful. A dark stud. His cock was so hard, so erect it looked almost agonizing. The head held a pearly drop of precum. She wanted to lick it off.

  She pulled her gaze away to meet his; his eyes pinned her with intensity. So intense she felt a flicker of fear, but it was washed away when he grabbed her hips and thrust deep into her, filling her up, stretching her.

  Her gasp made him pause, his chest rising and falling rapidly. She thrust her hips against him, wanting more, wanting him deeper and harder, but he held her still. “Don’t. Don’t move…just for a second.” Then he gritted his teeth and thrust deeply again and again.

  She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. She met each thrust with a thrust of her own. She ground herself against him, wanting every inch of his cock.

  His arms were planted on either side of her on the counter, shaking. He was struggling with his own control. He kissed her again, his tongue briefly tangling with hers before he had to pull away, to catch his breath. His jaw tightened as his hips tilted with each thrust. He pounded her hard. He wanted this. She wanted this. There was no need to get romantic. No frills. Just want. Just need.

  She arched her back, and as she came again, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to control her screams.

  A bead of sweat rolled off him to mingle with hers. He reached up and grabbed her hair, pulling it back roughly, exposing her neck to him. And he sank his teeth into her throat, not breaking skin but hard enough to make her shudder and her pussy muscles tightened on him even more.

  She moaned—she had no idea what. Nor did she care because he tensed and was coming deep within her. Her body pumped him dry. He collapsed on her, his face buried into her neck.

  Their breathing was fast and deep, his heart pounding against her.

  Max pulled his hands from beneath her and intertwined his fingers with hers. He still had her pinned on the countertop. He brushed a light kiss against her neck where his head laid.

  Amanda couldn’t move. Not that she wanted to. He was still inside her, stretching her. She didn’t want to lose that closeness. At least, not yet.

  Besides interlocking their hands, Max had hardly moved either. Then he lifted his head to look deep into her eyes. She wanted him to say something profound. That he loved her. That he couldn’t live without her. Anything!

  “Holy shit.” He brushed his lips lightly over hers. “That was un-fucking-believable.”

  Well, maybe not anything. Even though he wasn’t the only one that wanted casual sex, why did it bother her when he acted as such? As Amanda squirmed, he withdrew and stood. He held out a hand and pulled he
r up. She sat on the counter, naked as a newborn, looking at the man she’d just given herself to.

  “Yeah, that was un-fucking-believable,” she mimicked.

  Max brushed her wild, damp auburn curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. He ran a thumb along her jawline and then planted another kiss on her lips.

  All of a sudden the kitchen lights seemed glaringly harsh to Amanda. She quickly became self-conscious. Well, she should. She was sitting buck naked on the kitchen counter just having had wild sex with a cop.

  Damn. She pushed herself off the smooth counter and gathered her clothes. She made a mental note to bleach the counter in the morning.

  Hell, she should just have them replaced.

  “Amanda, will you go out with me?”

  She stopped dead and gave him an incredulous look. “What?”

  He was getting dressed and had just buttoned his jeans. His bare chest was still damp. Dark hair circled his navel and disappeared deep into the denim. He looked so edible.

  Damn. Quit it. That’s what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

  “Seriously, I want to take you out.” Max bent over to pick up his shirt. “Like on a date.”

  Wait. Now he was asking her on a date. So…this wasn’t as casual as either of them had planned?

  A real date. Like out in public? To hell with his mother finding out.

  She pursed her lips and squinted. Was it her that was confused or was it him?

  Ah fuck. Did she even really care at this moment?

  The flexing of his bicep with the Marine Semper Fi tattoo caught her attention as he slipped into his shirt. Once it was hidden from view, she responded, “I don’t know if I can trust you on a date. You might try to take advantage of me.”

  Max let out a low chuckle, making Amanda’s heart skip a beat. One of Greg’s favorite words popped into her head—yummy. Max was so yummy.

  “Look, bring Greg along. We’ll have fun.” He grabbed her hips and held her close. Max dropped his head to hers and placed a kiss on her lips. He deepened it before letting her go. “I’ll pick you and Greg up tomorrow night. Say yes.”

  No no no.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Ten

  Max had rented the old type of skates for Greg and Rollerblades for himself and Amanda. She watched Max out of the corner of her eye. So much for going to the bar last night to get him off her mind. That plan had completely backfired. Well, there had been one high point of the night.

  Currently it was an “All Skate” and there were quite a few people on the floor going in circles. Max had Greg in the center, out of the way of traffic, working on his balance. Greg shuffled along, holding on to Max’s outstretched arm with both hands. A huge smile covered his face. He loved the attention he was receiving from the cop.

  Well, at least someone was getting attention.

  Amanda was becoming bored rollerblading in a circle. She preferred rollerblading along Florida’s beaches, like at the famous Broadwalk, where there was sun and fun.

  In this godforsaken place there wasn’t sun or fun. All right, she was being a little too harsh.

  She skated to the side, deciding to watch some of Manning Grove’s young residents do their thing—skate and socialize. She couldn’t imagine that the kids liked the music. It was so lame.

  A guy about Greg’s age skated up, skidding to a stop inches from her, attempting to impress. “Hi!”

  “Hello,” she responded, watching a huge grin cross his face.

  He looked her up and down—not real obvious—and puffed out his chest. “I’m Toby.”

  He was young and not bad looking. However, immaturity just oozed from his pores. He reminded her of a hot-blooded Latino she had left back in Miami.

  Amanda realized he was still waiting for a response. “Oh, I’m Amanda.”

  The lights dimmed, and a sappy love song blared from the ancient speakers. It was a “Couples Only” skate.

  “Wanna?”

  Amanda looked at Toby’s offered hand and tried not to laugh. But at that same moment the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Across the rink another man’s icy blue eyes had her in his crosshairs.

  Officer Bryson’s recurrent warnings of “stay out of trouble” bounced around in her brain. And for once, she figured she’d try to heed his advice.

  “No, thanks.”

  “You’re pretty.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. Jeez, his lines were as lame as the music. “Thanks.”

  “You’re new around here.” It was more of a statement than a question, and Amanda didn’t bother to respond. “You got a boyfriend?”

  Amanda opened her mouth—she was going to say no or she wasn’t looking or that he was too young for her or point out that there were a lot of nice girls closer to his own age. But she never got the chance.

  Instead Toby let out an “oomph” as Max accidentally ran into him.

  “Oh, sorry, Toby. Are you okay?”

  Toby appeared a bit miffed, but looked up at the larger man and begrudgingly said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you mind if I skate with my date?”

  “No, go ahead, Officer Bryson. As long as Amanda doesn’t mind.”

  Wimp.

  Max reached out, snagged her hand, and pulled her away. “Nah, she doesn’t mind.”

  As soon as they were a few feet away, Max asked, “Making friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a bit young.”

  “And your point is?”

  “I’d think after last night you’d prefer a man over a little boy.”

  Amanda made sure he saw the eye roll. “Sure, if I knew one.” Amanda looked around. “Where’s Greg?”

  “I gave him some quarters. He’s in the arcade.”

  “Oh.” They did another circle around the rink as the disco ball bounced colorful reflections off walls and floor. “We better go check on him.”

  “He’s fine. Dunn’s here with his baby sister. They’re keeping him busy.”

  They skated a couple more loops in silence. His warm fingers interlocked with hers. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, except that the thumb he kept rubbing over the back of her hand was sending shivers up her spine.

  MAX SKATED TO a stop in a dark corner and faced her, staring deep into her eyes.

  He was crazy. One hundred percent certifiably crazy.

  She was the cause.

  He had become a jealous asshole. He lowered himself to nothing more than a caveman anytime another man spoke to, touched, or even looked cross-eyed at Amanda.

  This wasn’t him. He had never in his life been so possessive of a female. He was a catch. He knew that; his mother told him so. He was deeply respected in this town. He was a good cop. He was financially stable and he was decent looking. He could have his choice of any single woman in this town. Well, just about.

  But, he didn’t want just any woman.

  He wanted Amanda.

  He brushed her wild hair away from her face. He ran a thumb over her plump bottom lip.

  She was driving him nuts. His testosterone was in overdrive. Her pink tongue slipped out to taste his thumb, causing his groin to tighten.

  His voice was uneven as he said, “I know that this is only our first official date, but can I get a kiss?”

  Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she studied his face. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”

  He chuckled. “Too late.”

  Instead of complying, she rolled backward, leaving a gap between them. She planted her hands on her hips. “Hmm. I guess I will have to play hard to get now.”

  Amanda inched backward every time Max inched forward. “I know how to play hard. You want to see hard?”

  The lights went up, and the song changed to an old disco tune. Amanda skated away, flinging her hair back as she gave him a look over her shoulder. The look held the promise of what was to come. Her lips tilted up at the corners, and she winked at him. Max pushed off
the wall, rolling after her.

  When he caught up with her on the other side of the rink, Max put his hands over her hips and rolled up tight behind her. Amanda pushed her ass against him, swinging her hips to the beat of Donna Summer’s “Love to Love You, Baby.”

  She circled her arms behind his neck, pushing her breasts out as she started to sing the lyrics. Amanda turned in his arms, her hands still looped around his neck, and she made a face like she was climaxing as she sang the last “Uh, love to love you, baby.”

  Holy fuck. They needed to go right now. Like right now. Though her singing sucked, his cock was so hard. It was twisted all up in his pants. And this skating rink was the last place he was going to adjust his raging hard-on.

  “We need to get the hell out of here now. Let’s go get Greg.”

  “Was it something I said?” she asked, her face now the look of innocence.

  “Uh-huh. And I expect to hear the same thing a little later.” Just don’t sing it.

  They collected Greg, turned in their skates, and were home within twenty minutes.

  * * * *

  Max waited down in the living room while Amanda got Greg into his pj’s and turned on the TV in his room. He could hear the low sound of the TV show but nothing else. And he waited. And waited.

  Maybe he should leave. Maybe she had been playing with him back at the skating rink just to get under his skin. He felt like a desperate fool standing here waiting. He turned but stopped when he heard her feet padding down the steps.

  He did a double take since she came down wearing a frumpy, bulky robe.

  “Why—”

  “Shh.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the garage. “Just come with me.”

  He raised his eyebrows but tagged along as she pulled him through the garage door and shut it behind him. It had a double key deadbolt, and she turned the key, locking them in.

  “What—”

  “Shh.” She led him to the back of the Buick and opened the rear passenger-side door. “Get in.”

  “But—”

  “Shh. Get in.”

  He released her hand and slid into the backseat. She slid in after him and shut the door.