Brothers in Blue: The Complete Trilogy: Brothers in Blue Boxed Set - Books 1-3

by Jeanne St. James

  “No, just about the woman behind me.”

  With a little smile, she tucked one hand down between his thighs to where his balls were. He emitted heat like a furnace. Hot and full. She wanted everything he had to offer. After she was left wanting earlier, she needed a release. And she wanted a good one. No, not good. Glorious. A seeing-stars type of orgasm.

  “Fuck, Leah,” he groaned and jerked the four-wheeler to a stop. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Nothing you don’t want done.”

  He killed the power to the ATV. “Get off.”

  She was trying to. In more ways than one. But before she dismounted the four-wheeler, she grabbed his crotch tighter and bit the back of his neck.

  His voice broke like a tween’s as he yelled, “Get off!”

  She quelled her knowing smile and scrambled off the recreational vehicle, and he quickly followed.

  With a hand to the back collar of his T-shirt, he yanked it over his head and tossed it to the ground. Wasting no time, he grabbed the hem of hers to pull it off too, throwing it next to his.

  Grabbing her upper arms, he jerked her toward him. “God, I just want to feel you against me.”

  Through the fog in her brain, she hoped he wanted more than that. Way more. Because she was about to climb him like a slippery slope.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The skin to skin contact set off little electric shocks throughout her. With ease, he unsnapped her bra and let it fall to her elbows. With a shake, she let it drop the rest of the way to the ground. She wanted to press herself against him to feel the light dusting of chest hair he had and his gold hoops brush against her nipples. But he had other ideas as he held her away. He cupped a hand around her breast, stroking the nipple with his thumb. He captured the other in his mouth, tasting her, sucking, kneading the fleshy mounds. Her head fell back, her mouth opened as she screamed silently. The pull of his mouth ignited all kinds of feelings in her. Dirty, naughty, filthy feelings. All the good ones.

  He switched and concentrated his attention on the other nipple which stood erect due to the attention of his fingers. He sucked her whole nipple into his mouth, while pinching and twisting the other one. Her knees buckled and she tried to catch herself with a hand to his shoulder, but he guided her down on top of their clothes.

  He straddled her, staring down into her face. She could just imagine what she looked like. Her expression lax, her lips parted, her eyes hooded. But she couldn’t read his. The only reaction she noticed was his nostrils flaring and his pecs flexing, like he was having an internal battle.

  Oh no. She wasn’t going to let him go this time, leaving her wet and unsatisfied. No, she wasn’t. She cupped her own breasts and pinched both of her nipples, stretching them away from her body. A breathless whimper escaped her.

  With a curse, he tugged at the button on his jeans and wrenched on the zipper impatiently. He rammed both hands deep into the open jeans and pulled out exactly what she wanted, sliding the denim down enough to frame his amazing cock and sac. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes.” She lifted herself to her elbows, then pushed herself up until she could plant her palm on his chest and shove him backwards. He let himself go and Leah sank between his spread legs, grasping what he offered. He wormed his jeans down more to give her better access.

  Her fingers squeezed him at the root, watching a drop of glistening precum appear. She lowered her head, her hair hiding her face like a curtain, to lick the crown of his cock clean.

  Then she swallowed him deep.

  He mumbled things. Lots and lots of things. He shoved his fingers into her hair, curling them into fists. Every time he pulled her hair rougher, she sucked him harder. His hips rose and sank in rhythm to her mouth, her hand.

  And then he was talking louder, repeating the same word. His hands released her hair and pushed on her shoulders. She hesitated long enough to hear what he said.

  “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

  She glanced up to see the cords in his neck tight, his face flushed, his torso twisted.

  She freed his cock, shiny from her saliva.

  “I was about to come.” He shifted onto his side, pulling out his wallet. With shaky fingers, he grabbed a condom with a wrapper so worn that it looked as if he’d been carrying it around for a while. She plucked it from his fingers and before he could protest, ripped the wrapper open with her teeth, spitting the corner out of her mouth onto the ground. When he tried to sit up, she pushed him back down. “No.”

  Mixed emotions crossed his face as she rolled the condom down his shaft. Excitement, surprise, and maybe even a little fear.

  She kicked off her boots and wiggled out of her jeans and panties, not caring where they landed when she threw them. And in one move she was above him and sinking down over his hard length without even a how-ya-doin’. As he filled her deeply, so deeply, she closed her eyes for a moment, just reveling the feel of him stretching her to her limits. Neither of them moved. Their hips were still, but their chests both bellowed with harsh breaths. Even without motion, she teetered on the edge. It had been so long…

  When his thumb found her clit she opened her eyes, watching him as she began to move. Began to speed up. Riding him hard, taking every inch of him. Squeezing him tight within her. She slammed her pelvis down again and again as he circled her clit, the rough pad of his thumb making her cry out and tilt her hips.

  She wanted him to watch her too. She didn’t school her face. She didn’t care what she looked like as the pleasure overwhelmed her. A climax crashed through her, but she planted her hands on his chest. Hooking two fingers into his nipple rings, she tugged. Her pace never slowing.

  The word “again” ripped from her throat. She was wet and getting slicker with each thrust. Her body vibrated, shook, as her insides clenched down around him. Her pussy squeezed him as she climaxed once more. She gasped at the intensity.

  “Oh fuck. Fuck me,” he groaned. His eyes closed and color bloomed on his chest. He tensed and his pulsating cock swelled even more as he released violently deep inside her with a yell.

  She collapsed on him with a sigh, careful not to dislodge him. He hadn’t begun to soften yet and as long as he remained hard, she wanted him within her.

  She pushed the damp hair out of her face and realized Menace’s blocky head was only inches above theirs. With a soft woof, the puppy lapped at Marc’s face with a slimy, slobbery tongue.

  Marc’s face turned into a mask of disgust as he rubbed at the thick saliva clinging to his forehead. “Oh fucking yuck, asshole!”

  Leah’s chuckle dislodged Marc and she yanked his T-shirt out from underneath them, tossing it onto his chest. He searched for a spot on the cotton that didn’t have any obvious dirt and wiped his face.

  “At least he didn’t lick you elsewhere.” Finding her panties and jeans hanging from a nearby tree, she freed them and tugged them on before pushing her feet into her boots. She located her bra and corralled her breasts.

  Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Marc had made it to his feet and was trying to clean up the best he could in the environment they were in. With a hop, he tugged his jeans up where they belonged and then beat his dirty T-shirt on his thigh. A cloud of dust and pine needles surrounded him.

  “Hold up,” he said sharply and she froze in place.

  He came behind her and parted her hair sweeping it over both of her shoulders, giving him a clear view of her back. He touched the top of her spine softly, his finger tracing along her skin. She knew what he was examining. After her father died, she got a small tattoo at the top of her spine to memorialize him.

  She pictured in her mind what Marc quietly studied. The tattoo consisted of a police shield with her father’s badge number and below it read “EOW 5/5/2001.” The date of her father’s final day. His end of watch.

  She waited for his questions but they never came. He only swept her hair back in place and went back to donning his shirt, before glancing at his
watch. “Shit! We gotta go.”

  Leah grabbed her long sleeve T and shook it out before slipping it over her head. He may not push her to talk about it now, but eventually he would want to know her father’s story. It wasn’t a secret, but for Leah, it was sometimes still difficult to talk about it. She appreciated the fact he didn’t demand immediate answers.

  He mounted the ATV and she followed suit, relaxing against his back. Maybe they could skip dinner and she could go crawl into bed after a badly needed shower to remove the grit and grime clinging to parts she didn’t want to think about.

  As she clung to him, he directed the four-wheeler back toward the house.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She wasn’t sure if he meant the sex or her father’s death. But either way, she mumbled, “No,” against his back. He only nodded his head and the ride back to the Bryson’s was in complete silence.

  Marc didn’t want to think about what just happened and his serious lack of judgment. And he was fine that Leah didn’t want to discuss it either. But it wasn’t Leah he worried about as they crept into the kitchen. The room was empty and two plates covered with aluminum foil sat like flashing beacons on the large butcher block kitchen table.

  “Do you think they know?” It was more of a rhetorical question, because he really didn’t want the answer.

  “That was a long ride you went on there, Son. We were getting concerned.” His father’s voice made him jump and his heart thump wildly in his chest.

  Leah gave his father a sweet smile and, with dread, he realized her cheek sported a smudge of dirt.

  Then he noticed her hair. Fuck.

  “Where’s Ma?”

  “Luckily, she went upstairs to read.”

  Phew. A thought bubble full of cummerbunds, wedding cakes, and birdseed would be floating above his mother’s head if she saw them like this.

  His father licked his thumb and wiped at the smudge on Leah’s face. And, Jesus, he started plucking pine needles out of her disheveled hair.

  “Did you two get into a wrestling match with some of the trees?”

  Leah had the grace to blush, but Marc frowned at his father. “We ran into one of the pine trees. By accident. No damage, though… luckily.”

  “An accident, huh?”

  “Yeah, so don’t tell Ma. I wouldn’t want her to worry.”

  His father did a circle around both of them, nodding his head slowly. “Right.”

  “Pop, please.” If he had to beg, he would. He would get down on his knees and kiss his father’s feet if need be.

  “I’m no fool.”

  Oh shit.

  “I would never want her to worry about a little accident like this. You know how she gets. But in the future, be more careful when you’re out riding. One little accident leads to another little accident and then another…until boom! Nine months later there’s a big accident that cries, spits up, and wears diapers.”

  Marc refused to look at Leah. “It’s not like that—”

  “Sure, Son. Whatever you say. Your mother made you a plate. I think you need to go home and take a shower. You can take your plate with you. I’ll tell her you thanked her profusely for the excellent meal.” And with that, his father left, but not before patting Leah on the shoulder.

  Marc blew out a breath in relief. When he couldn’t hear the older man’s footsteps any longer, he said, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No shit,” Leah answered, concentrating on pulling the foil off of the plate in front of her.

  Absently, he wondered what his mother had made for dinner as he grabbed the remaining plate and left as if the house was on fire and the flames licking at his ass.

  Pork chop.

  Pork tenderloin.

  Pig fucker.

  6

  Leah smoothed a hand over her uniform shirt. Her new vest had arrived and it fit perfectly. She’d left a handwritten note on the chief’s desk thanking him. She must’ve just missed him since she and her FTO were working another second shift.

  When she had gone down for breakfast this morning, Marc’s mom filled her plate high with pancakes and hadn’t said a word about the previous evening’s incident. Ron must have kept his mouth shut like he said he would. When the older copycat version of Marc joined her at the table, he had just winked at her and then filled his mouth with his wife’s wonderful flapjacks and warm maple syrup. The real stuff. From Vermont.

  What her and Marc did yesterday could complicate things. Not could. Would.

  The last thing she needed was the chief to find out and boot her ass to the curb. She needed this job. And she didn’t want anything fucking it up.

  Even if it meant she needed to be celibate until her probation period ended. And even then, she may have to look elsewhere for someone to scratch her itches. Screwing around with a co-worker was never a good idea. It didn’t matter what field someone was in. Sex on the job could get messy when it came to say…fucking like jackrabbits in a field of trees.

  But the memory brought heat to her face and other places. She took a deep breath and pushed the back door’s panic bar, exiting to the parking lot. She thought that Marc and her had just missed each other in the station and that he would be outside waiting for her impatiently. But he wasn’t. The patrol car sat quiet and empty.

  She glanced at her watch. Five after three. His truck was nowhere in the lot. She was surprised he was late. Especially since the pupil was here before the coach. She should gig him for every minute he was late and see how he liked it.

  With the sound of squealing tires, his pickup rounding the corner practically on two wheels. She quickly moved out of the way when he barreled into the lot and parked crooked across two spots.

  He kicked the door open and tumbled out, dressed in a white, practically see-through, sinfully snug Under Armour undershirt that clearly showed the outline of his nipple rings, loose cotton shorts that hung down to his knees, black socks, and—for the love of humanity—camo-colored Crocs.

  Leah stepped back in horror at the sight of the black socks and Crocs combo, her hand covering the O her lips made. What the hell happened to him? The view below his waist was enough to turn any horny woman frigid.

  He flew past her. “Sorry! Sorry! I’m getting dressed right away.” He rushed past her into the station, letting the back door slam behind him.

  Stunned, she didn’t know whether to stay where she was or follow him inside to check if he was okay. Or if he’d lost his friggin’ mind.

  His truck door still hung wide open, so she went to close it. Forgotten on the seat were his personal weapon and wallet.

  With the shake of her head, she gathered his stuff and, making sure his keys weren’t still in the ignition, she locked the door before slamming it shut.

  She decided it was best she go inside and check on him. When she stepped into the locker room she set his weapon and wallet down on the wood bench between the lockers. His uniform pants hung open as he tucked his shirt in. She averted her eyes from the tight boxer briefs that peeked out.

  Breathe.

  “I’m never fucking late.” He fastened his pants and slid the plain black trouser belt through the pant loops.

  “Shit happens,” she said dryly. Though he really had no good excuse to be this late. Besides Armageddon.

  He hefted his duty belt around his waist, attaching it to the trouser belt with the leather keepers. “No. It doesn’t.”

  So what happened, Corp?” Leah asked him.

  She was back to the Corp shit after her wet, pulsing pussy had been wrapped around his cock, draining him dry?

  He stared at the open locker in front of him. How could he tell her that he had to whack off last minute before their shift in an attempt to control himself around her?

  After one last yank on his heavy duty belt so it settled more comfortably on his hips, he finished buttoning his shirt. When he turned to haul ass, she stopped him with a pointed look down at this feet.

  He
followed her gaze and—shit—he had put his Crocs back on instead of his boots. With a curse, he kicked them into his locker and slammed the metal door shut with a clang. Plopping himself onto the bench, he laced up his shit-kickers in record time.

  He looked at his watch… Fuck. He forgot his goddamn watch. Leah shoved her wrist in front of his face. Fucking twenty minutes late. “Have you seen my brother?”

  “The chief?”

  Obviously, the chief. Who else would he be asking about? His younger brother who was playing in some sandbox over in the Middle East? He bit his tongue and only nodded.

  “No.”

  He let out a sigh of relief. Good. Max was the last person he needed busting his balls right now.

  Jumping to his feet, he rushed out the door, only stopping long enough to grab a shotgun and a box of shells out of the armory room, along with a portable radio from the patrol room. He keyed the radio’s mic to go in service with the county dispatch center, but Leah stopped him with a hand to his forearm. Her slender fingers on his arm mesmerized him as she said, “Already done.”

  She let her hand drop away and he felt a sudden sense of loss. Weird. But he had no time to explore that odd feeling—and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to anyway—when he had something more pressing to deal with. “And if you would have gotten a call before I got here?”

  “If it was code two or three I would have went without you. Response time could be crucial.”

  Marc snapped his head up and met her hazel eyes for the first time since arriving. “Don’t ever do that. Always wait for me.”

  Those stunning eyes narrowed. And so did his as he gave her a fierce scowl.

  “Never. Ever. Go. Without. Me,” he reiterated, making sure she understood how serious he was. “You’re still in training and I am responsible for your ass until Max signs off on you.”

  Without acknowledgment, she turned and walked down the hallway. Really? She was just going to ignore him? He caught up to her before she reached the exit and he—since his hands were full, of course—pinned her against the wall with the bulk of his body.