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Brothers in Blue: Max

Page 11

by St. James,Jeanne


  She turned to him, and their faces were inches apart. “Now…”

  “Now…”

  “Now we both shut up, since talking isn’t our strongpoint, and you finish what you started in this car on Christmas night.”

  Even in the dim light, he could see her naughty grin. Damn. She continually surprised him.

  Naughty, naughty girl. He loved it.

  He fought back a smile and asked, “Do you remember what I was doing to you?”

  “Shh. No talking. Don’t screw this up.”

  “Just screw you?”

  He reached out and cupped her face, tilted her head, pulled her a little closer. He leaned in and kissed her, sucking in her lower lip. His tongue tangled with hers, and her hands grabbed his biceps. His muscles tightened and he pulled back, just enough to pull his long-sleeve T-shirt over his head.

  He caught her reaction. She wanted him. Knowing that, seeing that, made his cock rock hard, his balls tight. He wanted her just as much. No. More.

  “Amanda—”

  She shut him up by pressing her lips to his again, making him swallow his words.

  That’s right. No talking. Just action. She was a bossy little thing.

  He moved until he was sucking on her earlobe, flicking her earring with his tongue. Then nipped her tender skin. He moved down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, pushing away the collar of the robe. Feeling for the belt, he released it. He couldn’t wait to see what she was wearing.

  She slid the robe off her shoulders and showed him exactly what she wasn’t wearing. She was 100 percent, bona fide naked under that thing. All skin and flesh and those glorious breasts.

  They were perfect. Hard nipples surrounded by soft flesh. He cupped both of them, circling his thumbs over her areolae. Once, twice. She arched her back and closed her eyes. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked deeply. When a moan escaped her, his cock tried to do a dance in his jeans, but they were too tight. A prison. He needed to get out of them and quick.

  He popped the snap on his jeans, but before he could go farther, her hands pushed his away, so he went back to “appreciating” her breasts. Stroking, pinching, twisting her nipples as she worked his zipper down.

  “Take them off.” Her words came breathlessly and he looked at her. Her eyes were hooded and unfocused, her mouth slightly open. “Hurry.”

  He pulled away, lifted his hips, and shoved his jeans down as quickly as he could. He kicked off his shoes and socks before removing the jeans completely. His cock was free. And throbbing. He wanted to stroke it, but Amanda beat him to it. Her hand encased him and she squeezed gently, her thumb wiping a drop of precum off the head.

  Holy shit. Holy shit! He felt like an inexperienced eighteen-year-old. Like he could blow any second.

  There was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen. No way.

  But this was what she did to him. And he needed to stay in control so she wouldn’t regret this decision.

  “I’m so hard.”

  Amanda leaned over, her lips just brushing the head. She looked up at him briefly, a wicked smile on her face.

  What a freaking vixen.

  She took him into her warm, wet mouth. And he cried out. His breathing quickened and he tried to swallow. Her tongue swirled along the edge of the crown of his cock. Teasing. Then she took his length in her mouth, stroking him again and again.

  He wanted to pleasure her. Touch her. Kiss her. But he was frozen fast. He couldn’t move. She had to stop. Like soon. Like…like now!

  With a groan, he shifted away from her, breaking her contact.

  Another shift and he was using his chest to push her back along the seat. Grabbing her knees, he spread her as wide as the car allowed. He dived in, his mouth on her wet heat.

  It was her turn to cry out as he sucked her clit, flicked her with his tongue. She tasted so good. He slid two fingers into her, and he could feel her clamping down, squeezing, while lifting her hips. He kept licking and sucking her tender spot as she rode his fingers in a frantic rhythm. Her head dropped back, her body bowing. She screamed, “I’m coming!”

  More wet heat as she throbbed around his fingers. Before she could catch her breath, he shifted one last time, sliding into her. She was tight but wet. So wet. Her body welcomed him, matching him stroke for stroke. The tilt of her hips met the tilt of his perfectly. They fit perfectly.

  Max gritted his teeth, not wanting to lose it. He wanted this to continue as long as he could. He pulled out of her, and she released a small whimper.

  He sat up and pulled her with him, her legs straddling him. He looked into her face and saw the raw desire there. A drip of sweat landed on her breast, and he captured it between his lips.

  He held her hips tightly, so she couldn’t lower herself. Not yet. She struggled against him.

  He suckled her nipples, first one and the other, keeping her suspended above him. A flush ran up her chest as she struggled. He nipped both nipples one more time before releasing his hold on her hips. She slid down and settled onto him. Her forehead dropped to his chest, her breathing heavy and uneven against his skin.

  He was so deep. Her riding him buried his cock base to tip. He was afraid to move. He was right on the edge.

  She circled her hips just a little.

  She was playing with fire.

  With her on top, she had all the power. But he didn’t care. He slapped her ass and she began to move. Riding him hard.

  She had complete control, her rhythm, her movements. Her release.

  He could feel she was close, her pussy tightening around him. She released small sounds that drove him nuts. Made him want to thrust up hard. Again and again until he came.

  He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. Sweat trickled down his face. He was so done. So, so done. His cock was so hard that it almost hurt. His balls were tight, so ready to release.

  Amanda tensed and screamed. Her pussy pulsated around him, and that was all it took. He let go and screamed with her, one last push deep inside her.

  They both collapsed within each other’s arms. The only sound was their shaky, harsh breathing.

  He caught his breath enough to say, “Amanda…”

  Amanda had her eyes closed and was collapsed against him, still in his lap. She put one finger up to his lips.

  “Don’t. Don’t fuck this up.”

  * * * *

  Teddy looked up from the brush he was cleaning as Amanda entered the salon. “Hey, girlfriend, go ahead and put that luscious rump of yours in the chair.”

  She went over to the nearest station and plopped herself into the black vinyl seat. She spun it around to look at herself in the mirror. She looked the same, didn’t she?

  Teddy came up behind her and automatically snapped the plastic cape around her neck. Amanda’s gaze met his in the glass.

  “You’re too quiet.” Teddy’s teeth gnawed on his bottom lip. She could see the wheels turning in his head.

  Oh shit.

  “Okay, spill the beans. What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing.” She attempted to distract him with, “Just take the ends off.”

  Teddy spun the chair around, stopping it abruptly with his foot when they were face-to-face. Her neck snapped from the force.

  “Uh-uh. There will be no taking any ends off until I hear some dirt.”

  “There’s nothing.” She emphasized the last word.

  “Hmph. Girl, there is something…”

  “What are you, the newest detective for the Manning Grove PD?” Her voice trailed off as she realized that she’d just given him a clue.

  His lips formed a big O, and his eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

  Amanda grimaced at his high-pitched screech.

  “Oh no, you didn’t!” He spun her around again and reclined the chair back in one swoop, then began to wash her hair. “I want to hear every detail.”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  “No.”

&
nbsp; “It was that Bryson buck, wasn’t it?”

  Amanda wanted to ignore him, but she couldn’t. Her head was in a sink and Teddy’s face hovered six inches above her, staring her down. It was a bloody inquisition.

  Teddy rinsed her hair, sighing dreamily. “It was! Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.” He yanked her up and rubbed her head with a towel. “Max ‘I’m So Hot I Sizzle When I Walk’ Bryson?”

  “Teddy!”

  “C’mon. Give a poor, lonely guy a bone.” He giggled at his own words. “Was it good?”

  “It was great,” she conceded.

  “Then why aren’t you happy? Why aren’t you just exploding with joy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have great sex—it had to be; don’t tell me it wasn’t—and you sit there moping?”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  Teddy put a hand to his mouth to cover a drama-queen gasp. “Oh my Lord.” Teddy whipped the chair around and leaned down to look her straight in the eyes. “Yep. You’re in love.”

  Amanda paled. Love? No. Lust, maybe. The sex was good. That was it.

  “It’s hardly love, Teddy. Hell, we’ve only been on one official date. And even Greg was along on that.”

  “But you’ve had carnal knowledge of him, right? Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

  Amanda reluctantly nodded her head, her cheeks on fire.

  “Ooooo, so it was hot and furious? I’m so jealous.”

  “But, honestly, I don’t get it. One minute we want to jump each other’s bones and then the next… Sometimes he just confuses me. The problem is that he’s always in my business, and I don’t want that in a man. I had enough of that with my mother.”

  “Honey, he’s a damn cop. He can’t help but be bossy and controlling. You know that saying, there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

  That line was like a tightrope that Max and she were walking. One little bobble and—

  “So did you have fun the other night at Crazy Pete’s? Were you disappointed? You know, we ought to start up a big flaming gay bar with lots of great music and dancing and lights… Ooooh, the thought. We’d see how many of the locals come out of the closet. You could bartend and I’d—”

  Teddy continued to chitchat, his lips moving a mile a minute. Amanda had no idea what he was saying.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amanda awoke and stretched. It was Thursday, one of the days Greg didn’t go to day care. She thought of the pancake mix she had purchased the other day along with the fresh strawberries. It was going to be her first attempt at making pancakes. The microwavable ones didn’t count.

  She dragged a brush through her long hair, tugging at knots with her fingers. After five minutes, she relented and tossed the brush back onto the dresser. She’d get her hair back in order once she washed it later. She straightened out her pink-striped pajama bottoms and made sure her little white tank top covered all the important stuff before heading down the hallway to Greg’s room.

  His door was ajar. A sick feeling in the pit of her stomach hit her. She pushed it open wider. “Greg?”

  She groaned as she ran down the stairs. Chaos ran up to meet her halfway. At least the dog was here. That was a good sign.

  “Where’s he at, Chaos?” The dog barked in response. Amanda let out a curse. What did she expect, the dog to act like Lassie and lead her to Greg?

  Hell yes, she did.

  “C’mon, Chaos. Where’s he at?”

  The dog barked and rushed down the steps beside her. At the bottom he circled twice, let out a shrill bark, and scampered to the front door.

  She jammed the heel of her hand into her forehead. He was gone. Again.

  “He went out the front door?” she asked the dog. Chaos barked once more and spun.

  Shit! She was having a freaking conversation with a dog!

  Amanda ran into the family room, snatched up the phone, and dialed 911.

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”

  “My brother! He’s missing!”

  “Okay, ma’am. Calm down. Your brother is missing?”

  Didn’t she just say that? “Yes!”

  “How long has he been missing for?”

  “I don’t know. An hour?”

  A silent pause. “How old is he?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Another slight pause. “Ma’am, he is an adult. Call us back after—”

  “But he’s…he’s…not right!” Amanda slammed the phone down. “Damn it!”

  She bit her lip, drawing blood. She tried to think, but her head was spinning.

  This was not supposed to be happening. They were supposed to be eating a nice breakfast of pancakes and syrup.

  She grabbed the car keys off the hook.

  She’d have to find Greg herself.

  “Let’s go, boy!”

  * * * *

  Red, white, and blue lights flashed behind her, illuminating the inside of the car like a bad disco.

  She cursed and slammed the steering wheel. Just what she needed.

  As she opened the driver’s side window, Max’s head was suddenly filling the window. It was déjà vu.

  “Amanda. What the hell are you doing? You ran through a red light. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Well, maybe this is the only way to get police help!”

  “What?”

  “I called 911, but they wouldn’t help.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Greg. He’s missing.”

  “Christ! Again?”

  Again? Yes, again. She had failed once again. She’d proved to herself and to Max Bryson that she was irresponsible. Once again.

  Clasping both hands tightly on the steering wheel, she bit her lip to keep back the sob that so wanted to escape. “I’m so sorry.” She closed her eyes.

  “It’s not me you have to apologize to.” He reached up to his shoulder and got on the radio, giving Greg’s description to his dispatcher. “Now go home. You’ve got to be there if he comes home. Call me if he does. I’ll have the guys out looking for him.”

  Max reached into the window and ran his thumb down her cheek, brushing away a stray tear. His voice was low, soft. “He’ll be fine.”

  He sounded so convincing.

  She didn’t go home. She couldn’t.

  There was no way she was going home to sit and worry. After Max had sent her on her way, she drove around town once more. Then parked. Chaos ran circles around her, the border collie herding her down the sidewalk. She checked the Fifth Street Church. Greg wasn’t there.

  Out front, she sat down on the bone-jarringly cold stone steps. She shivered uncontrollably. She should have thrown on her jacket. And a pair of shoes. She was running around town in the middle of winter with nothing on but pajamas. What was she thinking?

  She wasn’t! That was the problem. But she needed clear thoughts.

  Greg was most likely looking for his mother. But he wasn’t at the church. Where would he look next? Think!

  The last time Greg saw his mother was at the church.

  Amanda straightened. But it wasn’t. Really, the last time Greg saw his mother was…the cemetery! The cemetery was three blocks away.

  She ran, mindless of the dog that nipped at her heels. She ran, not even caring that her bare feet pounded mercilessly into the concrete. She ran until she saw the cemetery.

  Until she saw them.

  Two cruisers, their lights spinning, were parked nose to nose. One had its driver’s door hanging open. Both were empty.

  Relief overwhelmed Amanda at the sight of two familiar broad-shouldered men in dark blue patrol jackets as they flanked Greg, talking to him just a few feet within the cemetery gates.

  He was safe. Greg was safe. She called out in relief. All three men looked up.

  Suddenly she realized she must look silly. Still in her pink pajamas and white tank. Without a jacket in the cold weather. And barefoot! She stopped on the sidewalk, looking at them across the stre
et.

  Then Greg spotted Chaos. And the border collie caught sight of Greg. The dog’s ears pricked and he barked. Greg’s smile widened and he automatically patted his leg. Chaos responded. His eyes were only for his master.

  It was something Amanda would never forget, burned in her brain forever.

  A honk. A squeal. A thud.

  A sickening thud.

  Sounds Amanda would never want to hear again in her life.

  “Chaos!” Frozen in time, horror engulfed her. Her head shook in slow motion. She screamed silently, sounds fighting to escape.

  She barely heard a horn blare as she stepped off the curb. Suddenly she was caught up in strong, thick arms. The arms wrapped around her tightly, causing her to fight violently against the restraint. She found her voice and screamed hysterically, “No! No! No! Chaos!”

  Max’s face brushed against hers, and he whispered soothing words into her ear. But she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t see him. All she could see was the lifeless, black-and-white dog lying out in the road, his plumed tail still.

  Amanda raised her eyes. Marc was holding Greg back. The look on Greg’s face made her want to vomit. She doubled over in Max’s arms, dry heaves racking her body.

  She croaked, “Is he okay?” already knowing the answer.

  People were gathering. Someone was picking up Chaos and wrapping him with a tan blanket. Then everything faded to black.

  * * * *

  Amanda felt the light tapping of fingers against her cheek. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She wasn’t ready to deal with what was going on. Not yet. If she kept her eyes shut for a few more minutes…

  “Amanda? Amanda, wake up.”

  She could feel the unbearable cold of the concrete seeping through the bones of her lower body. She was surrounded by Max’s heat as he squatted, holding her upper body between his legs, supporting her.

  He tapped her cheek again.

  She felt his hot breath against her ear. “Damn it, Amanda. I know you’ve come to. Open your eyes. Or I’ll get out the smelling salts.”

  She complied with a frown. She was lying on the sidewalk in the same spot where she had fainted. His body was blocking the view of the street.

  “Greg?”

  “Marc will get him over to my parents. My mother will take good care of him.”

 

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