Brothers in Blue: Max

by St. James,Jeanne

  He was relentless. And she started to cry. She let go of everything inside her. She was using him to chase out the ugliness of the day. He was using her to do the same.

  She didn’t want to think about anything else. Just this moment; his desire, her need.

  His breathing was ragged; he was close. That realization made her clamp down harder, squeeze him tight.

  And then she broke. She cried out as her toes curled and her pussy throbbed around him. A warm gush between her legs. She thought it was him at first, but he was still going. One thrust, another, then he stiffened and cried out, collapsing onto her back. His arms were shaky as he tried to hold his weight off her, but he failed and they both crumpled into a heap on the straw.

  She rubbed away the tears on her face and took a deep breath. She wanted him to hold her. To say everything was going to be okay. That Greg would be okay; Chaos would be okay. Life would be perfect.

  She rolled away from him and pulled up her pants, keeping her back to him.

  ”Amanda…”

  She found her sunglasses on the barn floor where they had fallen off, and shoved them back on her face, hiding her eyes.

  “Amanda!”

  Without a word, she slid open the barn door and quickly strode to the car. She was afraid to look toward the farmhouse or back toward the barn.

  Every cell in her body was screaming for a meltdown. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that because of Greg. She didn’t want to fall apart in front of Max. He’d want to rush in and take care of her, save her.

  And deep down she wanted that; she really did. But she had to stand on her own two feet first.

  She jumped in and locked the doors, relieved when the car started at the first turn of the key.

  She shoved it in reverse and stabbed the gas pedal, the tires kicking up stones.

  When she looked in her rearview mirror, Max was leaning against the open barn door, watching the dust rising up as she sped away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Amanda sat on the cold tile floor next to Chaos’s cage. Her fingers gripped the wired cage door as she looked at the black-and-white pile lying still inside. Her heart was breaking. She did this. She did this to Chaos. To Greg. To everyone.

  She’d had a long conversation with the vet about whether the dog was out of the woods, what his recovery time would be, and what would need to be done after he got released.

  Hearing the word released gave Amanda some hope that Chaos would really get better, even if it was a slow process. The vet had tried to warn her that the cost was going to be outrageous, but Amanda had just shaken her head and stopped him. She didn’t care. She just wanted Chaos fixed, back to normal. She wanted Greg back to normal. Just a boy and his dog.

  As she curled up next to his cage, she talked to him. Sometimes, he would just roll his eyes toward her, listening to her voice. Sometimes the end of his tail would thump up and down.

  He still had IVs in his shaved legs, and the vet didn’t want him to move around and accidently pull them out, so they had him on tranquilizers. The border collie was such an active dog, she was surprised they actually worked.

  He had a cast on his left front leg from a broken bone, and they’d had to pin his right hip because it had been dislocated, so there was a massive surgical scar with stitches there. The vet said that he might need to be taken in and out of the house with a harness that had a handle until he could get around on his own. Chaos was young; he might recover faster than the vet thought.

  Amanda hoped so.

  Even though Amanda had never owned a pet in her life, she couldn’t imagine the house without this chaotic animal.

  She visited the dog whenever Greg was at day care, sitting for hours at his cage until the vet techs got tired of her. Sometimes they would lay another dog next to her, fresh out of surgery, so she could stroke the other animal’s head while she sang, hummed, or talked to Chaos. It kept her hands busy, and they said it helped the dog come out of anesthesia.

  They were probably lying to her, but she didn’t care. She continued to do it anyway.

  * * * *

  Max came around the corner into the room where the animals needing monitored were kept. He stopped short and backed up a step to hide behind the corner of the door.

  Amanda was curled up on the floor next to Chaos’s cage, singing a Beyoncé song to the dog.

  It was horrible and she’d never be a professional singer, but his heart melted that she didn’t care she couldn’t carry a tune. That she just wanted to be there for the injured dog, soothing him.

  Damn. She surprised him over and over.

  He had stopped in to talk to the vet and to check on Chaos’s recovery. The vet said nothing about Amanda being there. He had only intended on peeking in on the dog to see how he looked.

  A vet tech came behind him and whispered, “She’s here a lot. Though we wish she wouldn’t sing. Especially since she stays for hours.” The tech chuckled and wandered away.

  Yeah, he didn’t know if he could listen to that for hours either.

  He debated whether to walk in and talk to her—and at least make her stop singing—or just leave before she spotted him.

  He missed her. He missed her being in his arms…and he wanted to take her in his arms now and comfort her.

  But he also didn’t want to intrude. She wanted to be independent. She wanted to take responsibility for her brother and his dog.

  He understood the independent part. He was the same way. He had always stood strong by himself. Though he had the loving support of his family.

  Amanda was only just learning to stand strong on her own. And she had no family support from what he knew.

  He wanted to be that support…if she’d allow it.

  But he had to tread carefully. With Amanda. And with his mother’s overanxious plans to get him hitched to anyone that was in his life longer than a couple hours.

  He realized the singing had blissfully stopped and Amanda’s head was leaning against the wire cage front, her eyes closed and her breathing steady.

  She had drifted off. Max turned on his heels and left the way he came.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amanda looked down at her sports watch. She had an hour before Greg got home. She’d hardly exercised since moving to Manning Grove. A little yoga here and there, but mostly all she had been doing was sitting around the house like a lump, eating all food that she considered “practice.” That was…when she wasn’t spending time at the vet’s.

  As she ran past the local elementary school, she spotted ruddy-faced children playing in the schoolyard, all bundled up in their winter coats. A few of them waved as she jogged past. Amanda faintly lifted a hand.

  It was cold enough her breath looked like the smoke coming from a train. She was breathing hard from lack of exercise; just running up a slight incline had her groaning with the effort. She vowed to herself to get back on a regular workout regimen. Yoga three times a week. Running another three. Maybe it would relieve some of the stress of—

  A truck rolled up next to her and slowed down to her pace. Amanda turned her head as she heard the hum of a power window opening.

  Ugh. Wasn’t it just over a week ago they had agreed to avoid each other?

  Max called through the cab, “What are you doing?”

  “Do I really need to answer that?” She turned back to watch her footing. “Go away. I’m busy.” Weird—how he had known where to find her? Or had he? Maybe it was just a coincidence.

  “Get in.”

  Amanda pressed her lips together and dodged a drainage grate. She picked up her pace. At the end of the schoolyard she saw an opening in the fence and a patch of woods.

  “C’mon, get in.”

  Amanda made a sudden dash in front of his truck, making him slam on the brakes. Then she took off at a sprint and found just what she was looking for. A little trail through those woods.

  She jogged carefully over the rough dirt path until she came out of the t
rees onto another street. And there was the truck. Parked along the curb.

  Max was leaning against it, arms crossed.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “What was that about? I could have hit you,” Max complained.

  Amanda stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips. Her attempt at looking angry failed as she was forced to bend forward to catch her breath.

  “You just like to challenge me, don’t you?”

  “You know it,” she answered, taking a deep breath. She paced in a circle to cool down and prevent a cramp. “I live to challenge you.”

  He tilted his head toward the vehicle. “C’mon, get in the truck. I want to take you somewhere.”

  Amanda glanced at her watch again. “Greg’s going to be home soon, and I’m not done jogging.”

  “I’ll help you with some cardio later.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes.

  “And Greg is fine; my parents are going to pick him up for the evening.”

  She stopped her pacing. “What?”

  He had made arrangements for her brother without asking her first? So it wasn’t coincidence. He had known she was jogging. She wondered if he had a hotline to Mrs. Busybody.

  “They were dying to have him over again. They really enjoy spending time with him. And I wanted some time alone with you.”

  “Oh, what about what I want?”

  “I’ll take care of that too.”

  This time Amanda rolled her eyes and shook her head. He was so full of himself, thinking he was so irresistible. That she would just comply with any of his wishes. Hell, demands.

  “What’s in this for me?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.” He went around to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

  She hesitated before moving around to the side of the truck. “You’re like a stalker.”

  “I am not.”

  “Right.” She climbed in. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. “Just don’t lock the doors in case I have to jump. I don’t care if you are a cop. Sometimes they are the wackiest. And I thought we sort of agreed to avoid each other.”

  Max laughed. He slammed the passenger door shut.

  “I didn’t agree to that. But we did avoid each other. It’s been a few days.”

  A few days. A few days were like a blink of an eye. Well, maybe not around here it wasn’t.

  Within minutes, Max pulled the truck into the driveway of a modern cedar A-frame on the outskirts of town. Amanda sucked in a breath as they got closer. The only word that could come to mind was…breathtaking. The sun hit the reddish-gold color of the logs, illuminating the home nestled in a forest of pines. It reminded her of a resort in one of those travel magazines, but on a much smaller scale.

  “Whose is this?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He parked the truck and helped her out. The house was surrounded by huge old pine trees, some still covered from the last snow, and was completely encircled by a deck. Large windows ran up both sides of a stone chimney.

  Max dug deep into his jeans to pull out a set of keys.

  “This is yours.”

  Even though it was more of a statement than a question, he still answered her. “Yep.” After unlocking it, he pushed the front door open. “Marc lives with me for now. But if he doesn’t start cleaning up after himself, he’s going to find himself outside looking in.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as she went in and looked around. “But what are we doing here? Or should I say, what am I doing here?”

  “I’m going to make you dinner.”

  “Sounds…yummy, I guess.” She plucked at her T-shirt. “But I’m sweaty and smelly.”

  “You can use my shower.”

  He grabbed her hand and guided her through the house to the master bedroom, not even giving her a chance to snoop around before gently pushing her into the unmistakably masculine en suite bathroom.

  “There are towels in the closet. I don’t use shampoo—I don’t have enough hair to—so you’ll just have to make do without. I’ll grab you something clean to wear.” He turned to go, leaving Amanda standing in the center of the bathroom.

  “She didn’t leave a bottle?”

  He paused, a puzzled look on his face. “Who?”

  “Your old girlfriend.”

  “I’ve never invited— Never mind, just take a shower.”

  Amanda shut the door. Once out of sight, she smiled to herself. So far, there were no signs of former feminine presence. She considered that a good sign. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was a sign that no female in their right mind wanted to deal with his controlling ass.

  She stripped off her soggy jogging clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She started the shower, waiting until the water was good and hot before stepping in.

  The hard, humid spray felt good, soothing her tired muscles. She sighed as she turned and turned once more, letting the water calm her nerves from being in Max’s shower. In Max’s bathroom. In Max’s house.

  She really never thought about where he lived or in what style he lived. The only thing she knew was that he didn’t live with his parents. She had just assumed he lived in an apartment somewhere. But this was a surprise; she never even imagined anything like this.

  She shouldn’t be surprised though. She knew Max was a determined, hard-working man. If he wanted something, he went after it until he got it.

  Her spidey sense tingled. If he wanted something, he went after it until he got it.

  She barely heard the rap on the bathroom door before it opened and Max let himself in. Her heart flipped suddenly, her pulse started pounding when she heard him over the shower.

  “Phew, it’s steamy in here. Do you need help scrubbing your back?”

  His blurred figure was barely visible through the opaque shower door—the only barrier between him and her naked body. “I can manage.”

  “I can reach all those places you can’t.”

  Amanda stilled under the hot stinging spray. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip.

  “’Manda?”

  His deep voice just saying her name like a caress made her toes curl in the swirl of the water. The bar of soap slipped from her fingers. It clunked loudly against the shower floor.

  “Amanda, are you okay?” Max opened the stall door and stopped midmotion. “You are definitely okay. Hell.”

  Thin rivers of water streamed down her body, making her aware of every inch of skin that he could see. She raised her eyes from the fallen soap to look at the man who was staring at her like she was every man’s fantasy. He could do that. He could make her feel so wanted…so desired. And at that moment, she only wanted to be one man’s fantasy.

  She let out a shaky breath.

  “Are you coming out or am I coming in?” His grin was crooked and strained as if he was struggling to control himself.

  “Both.” She reached out to take a handful of his T-shirt and pulled him into the shower. The water quickly soaked his clothes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes, leaning her bare body against him. “Kiss me.”

  He bent his head and murmured against her lips, “I’m so glad these boots are waterproof,” and captured her lips with his.

  He explored the deep recesses of her mouth while brushing his thumbs over her taut nipples, driving her completely out of her mind. The kiss broke as she gasped. He raised his head slightly. “You know, I’d love to fuck you in the shower, but it would take me a while to peel out of these wet jeans. So I have another idea.”

  Max backed her up against the tile wall and dropped to his knees.

  It wasn’t to pick up the soap.

  He placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted her leg up until it also was balanced on his broad shoulder.

  He had one hand against her belly, supporting her as he kissed the outer edge of her pussy lips, his tongue dipping inside, tasting her.

  His other hand spread her apart, and he sucked at her clit until fire sta
rted deep within her belly. Her breasts felt large and heavy, her nipples hard. She sucked in her stomach and tilted her pelvis, giving him better access. The warm water from the shower with the combination of his tongue made a groan escape her. She let her head drop back against the tile, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see his dark head between her thighs; she wanted to feel him. She wanted to focus solely on the sensations he was causing with his fingers and his tongue. He stroked her, nipped her, sucked her. Fingers plucked at her clit, slid into to her and curved.

  He touched that spot and stroked it. Again and again. It made both her jaw and pussy clench against the bizarre but deeply arousing sensation. He strummed her like a guitar, tuning her up. She bit her bottom lip and cried out. Her back arched uncontrollably. He wouldn’t stop. His lips on her clit, his fingers searching, stroking. She wanted to scream at him to stop, that it was unbearable. She couldn’t take any more.

  The orgasm started at her toes, curling them, as the shock waves ran up her legs, into her pussy, exploding. She cried out again. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she tried to avoid collapsing. But he drew away and stood, giving her a brush of his lips before taking her into his arms.

  She tensed for a second, then relaxed into him and whispered, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

  Her body vibrated with his deep chuckle.

  * * * *

  As Max puttered around his kitchen making dinner, Amanda took the time to explore his home. Dressed in one of his old T-shirts and an even older pair of boxer shorts, she made short work of inspecting every room.

  The house was beautiful. Amanda guessed it to be about five years old. The furniture was minimal and rustic, fitting in nicely with the hewed-log walls. A few pictures of his family were sprinkled around the living room, but curiously, not one of them included a woman besides his mother. His bed—which looked handmade—was huge and inviting; she thought about how they could make use of it later.

  She also discovered Marc’s room—it was one of only three rooms on the second floor—and agreed with Max. Greg was actually neater, and from what she saw, Marc wasn’t hard to beat. She shut the door quickly before anything crawled out.