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

by Jeanne St. James

  He slid his fingers into her hair, gripping hard. As his hips rose to meet her tongue, she gripped both the waist of his jeans and underwear, yanking them down. The crown of his cock received a quick kiss before she pulled his pants down and inside out. With a final tug, they slipped over his feet, leaving him bare before her. Starting at the top of his feet, she kissed her way back until her mouth found him again at his center. Wrapping her lips around the tip of his erection, she slowly swallowed him until she couldn’t. He was thick and hard, and it was impossible to take his complete length. But she tried. And he seemed to appreciate the effort as his hips continued to rise and fall with the wet strokes of her lips and tongue. He moaned her name, his fingers finding her hair again, gripping, pulling tight, making her gasp around him. Cupping his balls, she rolled the delicate skin between her fingers, then pulled them tight, stretching, teasing.

  His shaft became slick and wet with her saliva and she wrapped her fingers at the root of him, squeezing, pumping.

  “Oh God. I’m close.”

  Leah released him with a last lick along the thick vein. She crawled up his body, a tigress stalking her prey. A flash of gold caught her attention and she sucked one of his nipples into her mouth, flicking the ring with her tongue. She gave it a tug with her lips before moving to the other one, taking the ring deep into her mouth, her tongue playing with the sensitive tip of his tight nipples.

  “Fuuuuuck.”

  “Yes. Let’s,” she murmured against the hot skin at his neck. She spread her thighs until she straddled his. The smooth tip pressed against her wet heat causing her eyes rolled back at the urge to sink down upon him.

  “No,” he said, his voice raspy and low. “No. We’re doing it my way.”

  “So you think.”

  “No, I know.”

  Sliding her hand down his arms, she captured his wrists, gripping them tight. She rubbed the length of his cock in between her slit while she raided his mouth, kissing him fiercely. Thoroughly. Nipped hard enough along his lower lip to almost draw blood.

  Just when she thought he would allow her to have the upper hand, he proved otherwise. With a twist of his hips, he rolled her onto her back and pinned her with his body weight. His erection felt rigid against her hip. Not where she wanted it. She needed it inside her, stroking her slick walls, driving her to orgasm.

  She bucked against him. Fighting him. Not to escape. No, not that. But to make him work for it. To increase the pressure on her wrists, which were pinned above her head in the rough straw. To use his powerful thighs to keep her from kicking him, pushing him off.

  “You want it rough.” He growled in her ear.

  Her chest heaved against him and she curled her body upward to sink her teeth into his shoulder. He arched his back then dropped his head, grabbing her nipple with his teeth, scraping the sensitive areola.

  “Damn you,” she groaned.

  “You love it,” he grunted, nipping along the soft flesh of her breasts. She cried out as he bit hard enough to leave marks. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She rolled her head side to side in the straw. “Don’t you dare.”

  A broken laugh escaped him. But his face turned serious once more as he moved her arms until they were pinned to her sides. He slid his body between her parted thighs, skimming his tongue along the lines and creases of her pelvis, keeping to the outside, when she desperately wanted him at the center. Her pussy became slicker. Literally dripped, preparing her body for his entry.

  But he found her clit first. Sucking hard, licking, flicking the sensitive bud. A climax built deep inside her. Without releasing her clit, he slipped two fingers inside her, curving them, finding the spot which had swollen in her desire. And following with the motion of his tongue and his fingers, she rocked against him, smashing her pelvis against his mouth as the pace of his hand increased.

  Her toes curled, her spine curved, her mouth gaped. She jerked against him as the rush of orgasmic waves took her under and over, crashing her to the shore. Her center beat as intensely as her heart. She sucked in air, trying to steady her breath.

  He moved up and kissed her deeply. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue. She groaned into his mouth.

  He released her to track down his jeans, pulled his wallet out, opened it, and… “Oh fuck.”

  A feeling of dread came over Leah. That didn’t sound promising. She turned her head to look at him and he showed her the inside of his empty wallet.

  “I, uh... I don’t… I’m not… Shit.” He threw his wallet down, and glanced with a mix of sorrow and frustration at his hard-on that bobbed with every move. He went and dropped to his knees in the straw next to Leah. “You don’t happen to be on anything, are you?”

  “Of course, I am. I’m in my sexual prime.”

  “Sexual prime? How often… Wait. Who else… Have you been sleeping with someone else?”

  “Didn’t I say something about dating other people while we were on this forced celibacy?”

  His expression turned thunderous. “You’re kidding, right? Were you serious about that?”

  She put him out of his misery. “It’s only been you.”

  The relief that crossed his face was instant. “Wait. You are on the pill though, right?”

  “Yes. I have no plans on squeezing out a Bryson boy.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with us boys.”

  She raised a hand to his cheek. “Then tell me everything that’s right about you while you’re deep inside me.”

  He shifted until almost all his weight was on her and he could look directly into her eyes. “Well, let’s start off by saying we have great big cocks and are certified experts with them.”

  Leah chuckled and turned her head to avoid his kiss. “Certified, huh? Have you taken customer surveys to be sure?”

  “Oh yeah, I leave one on the bed stand like they do at motels. Sometimes I get an enormous tip, like the one you’re about to.”

  She bit her lower lip, smiling. “Am I now.”

  “Guaranteed.”

  “So far you’re only all talk, big man.”

  “You want a man of action, then?”

  “Many, many actions.”

  “Something like this?” Marc squeezed both of her breasts within his hands, drawing the nipples close together. He swirled his tongue over one tip and then the other, alternating back and forth until the pink nubs were glossy and pebbled.

  She wrapped her hand around the back of his head. He didn’t have enough hair to grab, but she kept him in place, making sure he spent enough time and attention on each breast. Lips, teeth, fingers, tongue. Each touch sent a bolt of lightning directly to her core. She ached for him.

  He slid a hand between their bodies, circling her clit with his thumb, making her gasp. She thrust her hips up and without fanfare, he drove himself deep. He had no resistance because she was oh-so-ready. Nothing came between them and she closed her eyes, basking in the way he filled her, fit her perfectly.

  Leaning back, he grabbed her legs, pushing her knees to her chest, giving himself full access. To her. To her heat. He pounded her hard, relentlessly until a bead of his sweat dripped onto her belly. With her thighs spread wide, he slid his hands under her, lifting her hips slightly, tilting her pelvis so each stroke pressed her where she ached the most.

  She let out a high-pitched wail and he slowed. He can’t. He can’t. She dug her fingernails into his lower back, dragging them all the way to his ass.

  “Don’t. Don’t,” she said breathlessly.

  “I can’t,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ll come.”

  “I don’t care!”

  With a curse, he picked up the pace again, pumping into her, showing her no mercy. Her own fingers found her clit, rubbing frantically. She called out his name over and over until she had no idea what she was even saying anymore. Her head dropped back, her hips lifted higher, trying to take him even deeper, though that was impossible. He pounded her until her
body stiffened, she screamed silently, and the world exploded around her.

  When her senses came around, Marc was just as still as she was, his breathing hard and fast, his cock twitching inside of her. Their bodies slick with sweat and fluids.

  Marc’s eyes were closed, his face lax, and if he wasn’t still holding himself up over her, she would’ve thought he had passed out. He lowered their hips back to the straw and his body turned into Jell-O as he carefully let his body mold into hers.

  “I’ll get off if I’m too heavy.”

  She shook her head. “Not yet.” She liked the feeling of his weight pressing on her. His cock slowly receded as it softened, but she wanted to keep him inside her as long as she could. And he made no effort to move.

  “I’m going to crush you,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, his breath cool against her heated skin. He shifted his weight but she wrapped her arms around him, holding him there for a few more seconds. Then reluctantly she let him go and he settled on his side next to her. He traced her arms, her waist, her hips with the tips of his fingers. He drew circles around her navel. His light touch made her shiver.

  “Cold?”

  With him next to her? Never. “No.”

  He moved to get up and she made a small sound of complaint.

  “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Leah watched his naked body move fluidly to a metal cabinet tucked in a dark corner where he pulled out some clean rags. Within seconds he was kneeling between her legs, spreading her thighs gently, and wiping away the evidence of their “slip up.” Then he cleaned himself and settled in the straw next to her, once again on his side, an arm draped over her waist. He kissed her shoulder lightly and nuzzled her skin.

  They ended up laying quietly for almost an hour, the only sound being their steady breaths and the crunch of straw as they shifted occasionally to get more comfortable. To get closer.

  Eventually, with regret, Leah made the first move to get up. They couldn’t lay there forever. Even if they wanted to.

  Nothing was said while they dressed. Nor when they hooked their pinky fingers together while walking back to the house.

  When they reached his ATV, she reluctantly released his little finger, stepping away, heading to the porch.

  “Hey!”

  She turned to look over her shoulder. He appeared somber, straddled on his four-wheeler.

  “Just four more weeks.”

  Leah nodded her head and went into the house.

  12

  Every day felt like torture. Sitting in such tight quarters on a daily basis, they got to know each other’s scents and mannerisms. She heard bad jokes and good. Eating on their breaks, she learned what foods he liked and what he didn’t. And what he couldn’t live without.

  But the tension couldn’t be thicker. They were careful to avoid touching, leaning too close. Staring for more than a second. Because it wouldn’t take much for them to go over the edge. Like a dieter in front of a large buffet, the temptation was there, kept just out of reach. They were both ready to snap.

  Leah found that most days were routine around Manning Grove. Being a small town, most citizens were law-abiding boring. The more patrols they did, the better she got to know the townspeople.

  On her days off, she either spent them with Amanda and Teddy at the salon, in the kitchen with Mary Ann, or helping Amanda at the bakery. Anything to keep her mind off the man currently sitting next to her in the driver’s seat of the patrol car.

  “One week,” he whispered. She didn’t know if he was telling himself or her. But she ignored it. Thinking about it made the wait more difficult.

  The radio squawked and Leah leaned over to turn up the volume, expecting a typical nuisance call.

  “County Dispatch to all available units. Domestic dispute at fourteen Balsam Road. Caller is currently on the line. She’s a neighbor and reports there is screaming of at least one male and one female inside the residence. One resident of the house is Jason Fisher. Fisher is an avid hunter and known to own several long guns, as well as handguns. Proceed with caution. Fisher is also known to drink heavily and has a history of domestic violence, simple assault, and aggravated assault. Units copy?”

  Marc grabbed the mic. “Manning Grove six copies. En route. ETA under five minutes.”

  “Manning Grove one copies. Mark me en route. ETA five minutes. I’ll be Incident Command.”

  Dispatch answered, “Copy Manning Grove one and six. Any other available units?”

  “Damn, Max,” Marc murmured, surprised the chief was going to respond to this call.

  “Coudersport five to County Dispatch, I’ll start heading that way. However, be advised my ETA is at least thirty minutes.”

  Leah’s looked at Marc in shock. The state police were even going to assist, if they could get there in time.

  “Dispatch from Manning Grove eight. I’ll be in service, badge number fifty-four, that’s five four, and I’ll be en route. ETA five minutes,” Tommy Dunn called in. Leah glanced at her watch. Scheduled for the three to eleven shift, Dunn was starting early to back them up.

  Max’s voice came over the radio again. “Dispatch from Manning Grove one, keep the caller on the line and keep us apprised of any changes.”

  “Copy Manning Grove one, Manning Grove eight, and Coudersport five,” came over the radio from the county.

  Marc had flipped on the lights and sirens, but as they closed in on the address of the incident, he shut both off. He stopped a couple houses away and took a good look at the outside of the two-story run-down home. It was just outside the town limits, where the houses were still close together but along a country road.

  “I know I’ve mentioned this before, but…most calls you go on, there are going to be guns in the house. So expect it. Up here, the majority of the residents own at least one. If not for hunting, then for self-protection.”

  Leah observed the property, noting that several junk vehicles sat in the driveway and that the shed and detached garage behind the house were deteriorating, as in starting to fall down. The house wasn’t much better. The porch had a major dip in the center and the steps to the front door looked a bit rickety too.

  “See anything?” Marc asked her.

  “No. Nothing. But I don’t like all of the hiding spots.”

  “Me neither.”

  A lady on the house next door waved her arm at them. She had one hand up to her ear with an old cordless phone.

  “There’s our caller.” Marc moved the cruiser slightly closer to the neighbor’s house and Leah rolled down the window.

  “Have you seen them?” she asked the middle-aged woman, who wore a house coat and slippers.

  The neighbor shook her head. “No, but they were causing quite a ruckus. They still are.”

  “Okay, you can hang up with 911 and go inside,” Leah called out.

  The lady nodded, speaking into the receiver, and disappeared into the house. But within seconds she appeared in her front window, peering out between the curtains. Leah shook her head. Nosy neighbors, gotta love them. Sometimes they were a blessing, sometimes a curse.

  Marc rolled down his window and they both listened carefully. Yep, there was yelling all right, along with crashing sounds, like pots and pans being thrown.

  “Okay, we gotta move,” Marc told her. “But we need to keep cover. I don’t know how drunk this asshole is or if he’s pulled out any of his weapons.”

  “Have you responded here before?”

  “Oh, yeah. Most of those charges he got in Scranton. He only moved here in the last six months after he met the woman who lives here online.”

  He sounded like a winner to Leah. “The chief should be here shortly for backup. Dunn, too.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to wait,” he told her.

  Leah nodded and regarded the house. She could see no movement in the windows, so the occupants may not know they were even out there yet. Which could be an advantage for them.

  “Let’s mov
e to the house and check if we can see anything from the windows. You head to the right and I’ll take the left. Keep low. Have your weapon ready.”

  Leah gave him a thumbs up and climbed out of the car at the same time Marc did. They both pulled their service weapons, giving each other one last look before she moved toward the right side of the house, he the left.

  When she reached a first-floor window, she stood on her tiptoes to peer inside. She could see nothing, but from the sound of it, the fight was still going full-bore. She moved to the next window. Again nothing. The ruckus sounded like it came from the back of the house. Most likely the kitchen.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the chief’s SUV pull into the front yard, no lights or sirens. Max gave her a nod and Leah pointed to the back of the house, to let him know where she headed. He pointed to the front door. He apparently was going to knock and announce. Maybe he could distract the male in the house, while Leah went through the back to check on the female.

  She crept quietly onto the back porch, hoping the old boards wouldn’t creak and give her away. With her heart beating out of her chest, she peered in through the dirty back window right into the kitchen. First thing she spotted was the bloody chef’s knife on the counter. The table in the middle of the room was overturned and a chair smashed into pieces.

  Shit.

  She tightened her grip on her Glock and pinned herself to the right of the back door. She did a quick check around to make sure no one was approaching from the outside.

  Then came a pounding on the front door. “Police! Open up!”

  Leah heard a curse and a scrambling inside. A man inside crossed her line of sight. Fisher. He must have been in the corner.

  “What the fuck! Somebody called the fucking cops!”

  A female mumbled but Leah couldn’t make out what she was saying. And she couldn’t see her either. She wondered if the victim was in the corner where her assailant had come from. In a blind spot. Son of a bitch.

  The chief pounded on the front door again. “Police! Come out now!” Max’s voice sounded strong and steady, not even a slight waver. Not a speck of fear in that man. “Jason Fisher! Come to the front door with your hands up now!”