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

by Jeanne St. James

  He said no words, but the small sounds he released drove her mad, made her wet, and caused an ache between her legs. She sucked harder, faster, squeezed the root tighter until his hips shot off the bed and he grabbed her hair, pulling.

  “No. No. No more,” he groaned.

  She released him, his cock shiny with her saliva. “Beautiful,” she murmured, admiring him before pushing herself back up to her knees and moving to straddle his hips. She reached between them and held him in place as she slowly sank onto his slick shaft. When she reached the base…when there was no more of him to take, her eyes fluttered shut and she savored the full feeling of him deep inside her.

  In that moment, she realized that she wanted no one else but him. Only him. Fucked up or not.

  She studied him then. His eyes glazed over, his mouth parted, his face relaxed. And she leaned forward, placing both palms on his muscular chest, not worried about the pressure of her weight on him. He was strong and able-bodied. The outside was perfect. The inside not so much.

  Hell, no one was perfect. Everyone had their faults. His might just be a little harder to deal with.

  Life had never been easy for Carly. Why should her lover be any different?

  She lifted and lowered her hips, moving at a maddening slow pace. His cock hit all the right places as she tilted and circled her pelvis above him. When he reached out to snag both of her nipples to twist them, tug, stretch them to their limits, she slammed herself hard onto him, causing them both to grunt and gasp, and have their eyes meet…hold…pause.

  His lips turned up in a small smile and she returned the gesture, relieved he was back to being Matt, her lover, and not Matt, the tortured soul. She rocked back and forth, her smile widening, while his turned into a grimace. He released her breasts to grab her hips. He didn’t try to control her movement, he only held on as his eyes closed and he cried out. His neck arched as he rolled his head back, his fingertips digging into her flesh.

  “Matt. Matt. I’m going to come. I want you to look at me.”

  As she rose up, he met her gaze once more, holding it as she herself cried out, the orgasm overtaking her, spasms traveling all the way to her toes, curling them.

  But she didn’t stop. She hadn’t had enough of him yet.

  He said he felt at peace when he was inside of her. And she wanted to give him more of that. It was one thing she could do for him.

  “Fuck me,” she demanded in an authoritative tone.

  In a flash, he had her rolled over and onto her back, his cock still deep within her.

  He pounded hard and quick, each thrust shoving her up the bed until her head banged against the headboard. He paused only enough to pull her back down and started all over again, fucking her with abandonment. His eyes flicked from her breasts, as they rocked with each movement, to her face. Then he rose up enough to watch them where their bodies joined as he moved in and out of her. Over and over.

  “Fuck me harder,” she yelled at him.

  “I can’t,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

  “Do it!” she screamed, not taking no for an answer.

  He grimaced and grabbed the sides of her face before crushing his mouth against hers, invading her with his tongue, snagging her bottom lip between his teeth.

  He didn’t fuck her harder. He slowed. He softened. His kiss became gentle as he stroked her cheeks. His hips fell into a rhythm that made her think of making love, not pure, raw fucking.

  He pulled his mouth away a breadth, just enough for him to breathe her in, and she him.

  He entered her, he left her. Their breath echoing the movement of their hips.

  “I—”

  “Hush,” she whispered, not wanting any confessions.

  He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, rocking against her like a gentle wave along the shoreline. Her heart broke for him. For the pain he had to endure on a daily basis. For his tortured thoughts and memories. If this was the only peace he could find, she didn’t want him to ruin it with words.

  His hands found hers and they intertwined their fingers.

  Her climax wasn’t an explosion this time. Instead it built slowly, a simmer starting from her center and working its way outward to rush over him, to bring him tumbling alongside her in the rushing waves.

  With a last push, he stilled while she rippled around him, whispering his name on a broken breath.

  Then something wet fell on her. One drop. Two. She looked up at him in dismay. He had his eyes squeezed shut, his lips pressed together, and he was…

  Crying.

  She pushed away her shock and whispered his name. He didn’t move or respond. She ran a thumb over his cheek, gathering the string of tears on its tip. She wanted to tell him not to cry, that everything would be okay.

  But she didn’t know if that would ever be true.

  Every day seemed to be a journey for him.

  And now for her.

  “Matt,” she whispered again as his arms shook under his weight. She slid her hands along his shoulders and pulled him down to her. He didn’t fight it; he fell willingly into her arms. She wrapped herself tightly around him, wishing she could absorb his pain for him, take at least some of the burden.

  He pressed his face into her neck and held her tight. If it wasn’t for the proof of the tears, she wouldn’t have known he was crying. Men like him probably didn’t want to admit to it or to any kind of perceived weakness. But she understood the need to cry. It could be cleansing.

  She’d done it plenty of times herself.

  When she found out she was sterile. When her husband left her. When she learned how difficult and expensive it was to adopt. When she had no choice but to move into that hellhole of a boarding house and all seemed hopeless.

  She cradled his head against her and stroked his back, running her fingers along the indentation of his spine, then followed the lines of his massive tattoo, until his breathing steadied. And then she continued to hold him close as his body went limp against her and she heard what sounded like soft snoring.

  She wiggled out from under his weight, but before she could move too far, his arm draped across her waist, dragging her back. He mumbled something in his sleep and she smiled softly.

  She brushed her fingers over his short hair, around the shell of his ear, and along his jawline, then closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep as fast as he had.

  14

  Matt jerked awake, unsure of where he was for a moment. He was pressed tightly against something or someone warm and soft.

  Carly.

  He glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand. The amber digital numbers glowed 2:04.

  He shifted to his back and stared up at the ceiling in the dark, tucking an arm beneath his head. He didn’t want to think about his breakdown. The first one when he was angry, the second one when he broke down crying.

  There was no crying in love or war.

  Right. What a complete falsehood.

  Being a Marine and a cop, he should be able to take anything thrown at him. Except it wasn’t so with the woman who slept soundly next to him. She got under his skin.

  For the first time ever, he longed to talk to his therapist. He needed some advice…what to do about her. He could ask one of his brothers. But he didn’t want to deal with them. Or he could talk to Leah. However, he really didn’t want her to know his personal conflict either.

  For anyone else it would be simple.

  Of course, with him it seemed anything but.

  Most guys date a woman, have sex, fall in love, get married, plan a family…

  Not necessarily in that order.

  He wanted to keep it simple. Just sex. Though, the more “just sex” he had with her, the more complicated it became.

  And this was why he had stuck with only “dating” his own fist for years. Simple. Easy. Neat. Emotionless. No falling. No quicksand. No hope. No future.

  He scrubbed a hand over his hair. To keep his mind busy, he needed to get b
ack to work. This downtime had killed him. It gave him way too much time to think. Max had meant for his temporary suspension to be a punishment. And it ended up being so in more ways than one.

  “About time you release me so I can go pee. My bladder is screaming.”

  “Sorry, you should have said something.”

  “There was no way I was waking you up. Do you think you’ll be able to fall back asleep?” she asked.

  He lifted his shoulder slightly and then let it fall. “Don’t know.”

  “Well, we can give it the ol’ college try after I hit the head,” she said, pushing the covers off her long, luscious legs and heading toward the hallway.

  He wanted to tell her to “hurry back, because the bed feels empty without you.” But he feared what would come out would be, “I felt empty without you.” Instead, he kept his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself.

  Keep it simple, stupid.

  She only disappeared for a few moments before returning to scoot under the covers. He took his own trek to the bathroom and when he came back, he paused in the doorway at the sight of her buried under the quilt.

  She lifted the corner. “C’mon. What are you waiting for?”

  With a sharp nod, more to himself than her, he entered the room and climbed in with her.

  She let out a great big sigh of contentment as their bodies meshed, their arms intertwined, and their hands found the perfect spots to hold onto.

  You seemed more relaxed,” Marc said to him, adjusting his awkward duty belt more comfortably over his hips.

  Matt finished buttoning up his uniform shirt, grabbed his trouser belt from his locker, and concentrated on sliding it through the belt loops. “Do I?”

  “Pussy will do that to you.”

  He halted the belt’s progression and looked up at his brother. “What did you just say?”

  Marc put his palms out and backed up a step, laughing. “Just playin’.”

  Max pushed his way into the tiny locker room. “What are you shit for brains talking about?”

  “Matt getting laid,” Marc volunteered.

  “No, that’s not what we’re talking about,” Matt said, giving his back to his brothers. He sat on the wooden bench and pulled on his black tactical boots. It felt good to be putting the uniform back on after a week.

  As he adjusted his pant legs over his ankle-high boots, a female voice floated in. “Well, if that ain’t one hell of a man sandwich, I don’t know what is.”

  Amanda.

  Matt stood, hiking up his pants, and faced his sister-in-law. “What are you doing here?”

  She held baby Hannah in her arms. The kid was awake but quiet, thankfully.

  “Picking up my handsome husband and dropping Hannah off at the ‘rents so we can have some alone time.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Can you do that so soon?” Marc asked, surprised. “Just asking for a friend.” Then he laughed.

  “Why? You planning your own babies soon?” Max asked, whacking Marc in the arm.

  “Nope. Leah has no mothering instinct right now. And I’m not going to encourage it.” He faced Amanda and said, “So don’t let her hold Hannah a lot. I don’t want her hormones to go crazy.”

  “You mean there are women out there without crazy hormones?” Max asked, laughing.

  “Shit. I need to run to the restroom.” She shoved Hannah in Matt’s direction. “Can you hold her for a sec?”

  Matt looked at the baby like it was a piece of raw liver. No way, no how was he holding that thing.

  Max, too busy changing into his civvies, didn’t have any hands free and Marc quickly pushed past Amanda out the door. “I’ll start on patrol if you watch the baby.” Then he disappeared in a flash.

  The fucker. He didn’t want to hold the baby either.

  Amanda shoved Hannah toward him again. “C’mon. She won't hurt you. And you’re not going to break her. She’s got really soft bones. Don’t ask me how I know.”

  Max snickered, giving them his back as he pulled off his shirt.

  “Here.” She shoved the baby against his chest. “Take her or she’s going to fall when I let go.”

  Damn it. She was the stubbornest woman he’d ever met. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this on a daily basis,” he told Max.

  “Oh, whatever!” Amanda exclaimed.

  Then she let Hannah go and Matt’s instinct to protect the kid kicked in and he held the infant against his chest in his arms, trying not to look down into her face.

  “See? Not so bad. I’ll be right back.” And with that she was gone.

  “Can you take your kid?” he pleaded with Max.

  “After I’m done changing.” His older brother glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like she may actually like you. Hard to believe.”

  Matt reluctantly glanced down into Hannah’s face. Her little cupid’s bow lips were parted and her fists jerked uncontrollably, reminding him of Greg. She let out a soft, little sound. Like a coo.

  Matt’s nostrils flared as he struggled to breath and his vision faltered. “Will you take this thing?” He tried to keep the panic from his voice, but it remained difficult. He couldn’t control the sudden stiffening of his spine and his ears began to ring.

  Max turned on him. “She’s not a thing. She’s my daughter.”

  Matt closed his eyes, his fingers gripping the baby tighter. “Sorry. Sorry. Please. Just take her.”

  Then Max’s hands were there, prying her from his arms. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Matt couldn’t look at his brother. He couldn’t look at his niece. He couldn’t get his mouth to work properly. “I… I…”

  “Matt, snap out of it!”

  “I just want to go to work,” he finally spat out.

  “Then fucking go. Jesus.”

  Matt blindly turned and rushed out of the room and down the hall, Max’s voice following him. “She’s only a baby!”

  Amanda looked at him in surprise as he pushed past her toward the back door. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled to her.

  “For what?” she asked.

  Instead of answering her, he slammed the exit bar on the door with his palms and stepped out into the afternoon light. He gulped air into his lungs and turned his face into the warmth of the sun’s rays.

  The heat and the fresh air washed away remnants of his panic. The muscles in his chest loosened and he sucked in oxygen at a normal pace.

  He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and scrolled through his contacts.

  “Dr. Stephens,” came the voice that instantly calmed him.

  “We can’t have sex anymore,” he told her in a rush.

  He heard a slight hesitation on the other end. “What?”

  “We can’t fuck anymore.”

  “Uh. Why?”

  “Because you want a baby.”

  He heard a rustling through the phone and then her next words sounded muffled like she covered her mouth. “You’re not making any sense. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You want a baby,” he repeated, wishing his brain would make sense.

  “Okay. And? What does that have to do with us having sex? I can’t get pregnant.”

  He knew that. He knew. But that wasn’t the reason, yet he couldn’t get his thoughts straight to explain it to her. Nor could he grasp it himself.

  He was being an asshole.

  That was clear to him.

  He was trying to cut off the best thing that had happened to him in his life. The only thing that made him feel whole.

  All because he’d held Amanda’s baby in his arms. And it freaked him the fuck out. He shook his head, trying to gather a shred of sanity.

  “Matt, are you okay?”

  “No,” he said with a groan. “No. I will never be okay.”

  “Don’t say that,” she whispered harshly.

  “But it’s true.”

  “Matt, don’t say that. I love you. It’ll be okay.”

  Pulling the phone
away from his ear, he stared at it in horror. Now his brain really was playing tricks on him.

  He put the phone back to his ear. Had he imagined what she said? “What?”

  “I love you,” she repeated slowly.

  “No.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “No. You can’t.”

  “But I do.”

  “Fuck you, Carly. You can’t!” he shouted. He whipped the phone across the parking lot and watched it shatter into pieces along the pavement. Heaving a deep breath, he doubled over and released a scream that would have curdled milk.

  “Get undressed and go the fuck home. I don’t want to see you for at least another week.”

  Matt didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to see the censure in his brother’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the horror in Amanda’s. It was bad enough he knew it existed.

  He hung his pounding head and nodded, his lungs burning as he panted. He almost apologized…again. But he stopped himself. He stood in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the pavement, while he listened to Max and Amanda load the baby in the car and drive away. Once he was alone, he turned back to station and went inside to strip himself of his uniform.

  And his pride.

  Every day that Carly came home and didn’t see the 4Runner, the disappointment, the dread, the sadness increased, leaving an ache deep inside her.

  She never should have told him. She knew he would freak out.

  And she was right.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Just the fact of her telling him she loved him had once again drove him over the edge. She didn’t know why she did it.

  Oh, that’s right. He tried to push her away and she grew desperate. Any other man may have been flattered. However, Matt wasn’t any other man.

  In the past week, Mary Ann had invited her over for dinner a couple times, but she couldn’t face his parents. Even though they didn’t know the details of what happened.

  They only knew he had disappeared.