Up in Flames [The Heroes of Silver Springs 10] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (5 page)

Max dragged a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I know.”

“Maybe she’s needed someone to talk to. You know as well as I do the captain can be Dear Abby to all of us when we need a pair of listening ears.” She decided to leave it at that, not wanting to speculate further on what exactly was going on between Regina and Dean. A picture of Veronica’s gleaming face and rounded belly flashed through her mind. No way would the captain do anything to jeopardize what he had with that woman.

Terri pushed the unthinkable possibilities aside, opened the passenger door, and slid out of the truck. “See you on shift in the morning, LT.”

Regina flattened her hands on Max’s bare chest, enjoying the way his dense muscles flexed under her palms as she pushed him back on her bed and straddled his lean hips. He cupped her cheek, his long fingers sliding into her hair as he lifted his head, pulling hers down so their mouths met.

His tongue pushed between her lips, tangled with hers, and sent fiery embers of need raining through her body. She pulled back, licking her way across his strong jaw and along his throat, scooting her body down his as she trailed her tongue through the dark springy hair on his chest and found his hardened nipple. She flicked her tongue over the bud, danced her way to his other pec, and did the same to that nipple before continuing down.

She smiled when she felt the ridged muscles of his six-pack quiver beneath her tongue. His flat stomach rose and fell in an unsteady breath, freezing a moment later when she reached the trimmed dark hair above his cock.

She braced the weight of her upper body on one hand as she attempted to curl her fingers around his wide shaft. Her long nails barely touched, giving her a pussy-pulsing indication of the marvelous thickness of his cock.

Cream gathered along the inner walls of her pussy lips, a flame igniting in her core that she knew couldn’t be extinguished without the full penetration of his dick inside her. She denied herself that pleasure in favor of tasting him, dipping her head to swipe the tip of her tongue over the bead of pre-cum glistening in the slit of his cockhead.

The low, rumbling sound he made sent whips of longing lashing against the super-sensitive walls of her channel. She opened her mouth, stretching her jaw as she closed her lips around the head of his dick, smiling around it when she felt it jump at the capture. She gazed up the ridged muscles and flat planes of his body to find him watching her, his handsome face tight with arousal and needs that begged her to keep going.

Regina took Max’s cock into her mouth slowly, marveling at every deliciously solid inch until the engorged head bumped against the back of her throat. The desire to milk him dry warred with the need in her core to feel his dick pushing inside her pussy, stretching her tender flesh, and invading her body until he consumed her.

Desire won over the need in her quest to pleasure him first. She wanted to tell him with her mouth and hands the things she couldn’t ever manage to put into words when they talked. She wanted him to know how desperately she yearned for him. She wanted him to know she had been wrong. She wanted him to feel her apologies as she stroked and licked his magnificent cock until he spilled his seed down her throat.

She lifted her head, lightly following the pulsing vein that ran along the underside of his cock with her tongue until she met with the flanged skin of his cockhead. Closing her lips more tightly around his girth, she sank her mouth down again, this time relaxing the muscles in her throat to swallow his full length.

“Ah, Regina. That’s it baby. Suck it, darlin’.” Max buried his hands in her hair, his fingers tightly fisting the strands.

Regina picked up pace, her mouth bobbing up and down on his cock in long thrusts that brought her lips to his cockhead and back to the base of his body. His hip lifted. She fought her gag-reflex as the move drove his dick further down her throat.

“Geezus, baby. You’re going to make me come.”

Regina moaned around his shaft, telling him with the sound rather than giving up a nanosecond of her feasting time that him coming was exactly what she wanted. His fingers pulled at her hair, the sharp tugs sending more fiery embers pouring through her system, and his muscles constricted.

She readied her throat for the salty-sweet drink she knew she was about to get, sucked his dick harder, and nearly sank her teeth into his shaft when the alarm went off. The incessant beep, beep, beep shattered her dream, sending it to the back of her mind as a painfully rhythmic pounding in her head consumed all her awareness. She rolled, opened her eyes, and let out a groan loud enough to wake the dead when the stream of blinding sunlight shining through her bedroom window intensified the ache in her head.

“For the love of God, make it stop!”

Her plea went unanswered. Finding herself sideways across her bed, she twisted and crawled on her elbows to the nightstand. A hard smack to the top of the clock silenced the torturous beep, but it didn’t alleviate the headache. Collapsing onto her back, her hands flew to her temples and she let out another groan.

“I’m never drinking again.”

So she had said the last time she’d awoken this way, and, yeah, okay, even as she made the vow this time, she knew it would only be a matter of weeks before she did it again.

“And you call yourself a fast learner,” she muttered, forcing herself to sit up.

At least she’d made it to her bed. She glanced down herself and noted she hadn’t made it out of last night’s clothes. A seething look to the damnable alarm clock told her it was seven in the morning. It also told her the backup alarm was the one that had woken her, which meant she hadn’t set the primary one before falling asleep.

“Great. You feel like shit on a stick, and you’re already running an hour behind schedule.” She took a deep breath, let it out slow, and gathered the strength to move again. “Suck it up, Gina. You play, you pay.”

The sad part came in knowing she hadn’t played last night. Not really. She’d followed the old there’s-a-tear-in-my-beer routine, although she hadn’t been drinking beer, and she didn’t remember actually reaching the point of real tears.

She stumbled down the hallway in desperate need of ibuprofen and a tall glass of water only to halt abruptly as she stepped into the living room and her attention collided with the front door. Memories rushed to the front of her jack-hammering brain like a freight train, and she shot a hand out, flattening it on the nearby wall as yet another groan rumbled from her throat.

Max. Dear God in heaven, she’d kissed Max last night. She’d kissed him, touched him, allowed him to touch her, then…he’d left.

You were about to tell him to.

Had she? She remembered flicking on the light, opening her eyes to find him gazing at her with heated promises and flaming desire in his dark eyes, and realization had slammed into her belly like a physical blow. She’d lost it last night, somehow managed to forget everything in the heat of the moment, and she’d kissed him, for Christ’s sake.

She’d
kissed
him
.

“Stupid. Stupid.
Stupid
!”

Now what the hell was she going to do? She’d have to face him. It wasn’t like he’d been some guy she’d picked up in the bar and would never see again. She could just picture it, too, that shit-eating grin he’d have on his face and the triumph that would be dancing in his too-wise dark eyes.

“He isn’t like that and you know it,” she scolded herself as she dropped her hand from the wall and walked to the door. She’d wanted to believe he was. For over a year, she’d been going head-to-head with the man, determined to prove herself a competent fire investigator despite her gender to a man who’d made it clear from the get-go he didn’t believe she could handle the job.

That’s not why you did it.

She sighed as she unlocked the front door, wrenched it open, and knelt to retrieve her keys from under the outside mat. They were there, just as he’d said they would be. A quick glance toward the driveway showed her that her car was there, too. Again, just as he’d said it would be.

She stepped back, closed the door, and her foot slipped on something as she started to turn. She glanced down, spotted a folded piece of paper on the carpet, and bent to snag it up. Figuring she had a good idea where it had come from, she made a soft whimpering sound as she unfolded it and read.

Call me the next time you need a cab. I promise not to weasel my way inside next time.
A phone number was scribbled next, followed by
Lt. Ass.

Regina bowed her head and closed her eyes as heat warmed her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever called him that to his face, but he’d apparently heard it from somewhere.

It wasn’t true, though it had been her initial impression of him. She crumbled the note in her fist, knowing she would never call him, as she walked into the kitchen, thinking back to the first time she’d met him and the first thing he’d said to her in Captain Dean Wolcott’s office.

Your partner. Would that be Philip Mead? He’s still lead investigator in the arson unit, isn’t he?

Max had caught her at the wrong time with that question. She’d immediately taken it as a statement toward her incompetency to handle the string of meth-lab fires that had been occurring at that time. Her temper had flared in an instant. She’d squared her shoulders, leveled a glare on him that would’ve made a lesser man squirm, and had let him have it.

He is, but in case there is any question of my abilities to handle this investigation, Lieutenant, I can assure you I am fully trained and qualified. My record is exemplary. I have yet to be slapped with a case I haven’t solved, nor have I ever taken the obvious and easy way out. This case will be no exception.

Max had stammered something about not meaning to…and that’s where she’d stopped listening. From that point forward, she’d dubbed him Lieutenant Ass and ended up sparring with him at every turn.

Except, she had realized months ago how wrong about him she had been. She could admit that. Nobody was perfect. She’d jumped to a conclusion, made an assumption, and understood she was the ass for it, not him. Admitting that to him, however, wasn’t so easy. Along with the realization of how wrong she had been had come the understanding that her instant dislike of him hadn’t stemmed from her belief that he thought her incompetent. It had developed because she liked him way too much. Quite frankly, the man scared the whopping shit out of her.

She yanked open the cabinet by the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, and shook two into her palm. She could chalk last night up to a prime example of why Max Jasper terrified her to her very soul. She could so easily lose her head over the man, a head she desperately needed to keep intact, a head that was too quickly becoming muddled with…

A shrill cut through the silence of the house, and she spun from the cabinet, the move knocking her off balance as a dart of razor-sharp pain shot through her forehead.

“Damn it,” she growled even as a different authoritative female voice flowed into the kitchen from the radio receiver in the living room Regina always kept tuned in to the fire-department frequency.

“
Engine 1, Ladder 12, Rescue 4, Hazmat 2, we have a report of a structure fire at 4912 Bienville Boulevard. Unknown occupancy. Time out, 0716.”

“Well, you guys are getting an early start,” Regina said aloud. She took the time to grab a glass and fill it with water so she could knock back the ibuprofens in her hand, knowing from the numbers on the trucks that had been called to respond, B-shift would be rolling out of the firehouse barely sixteen minutes after starting their shift.

To a building I just inspected less than a month ago and passed as being in exemplary condition, she thought as the address of the fire call penetrated her aching head. She hadn’t found anything during her inspection of Mr. G’s Automotive Service that had even garnered the need for a second look. The mechanic’s shop, owned by Reuben Gadsby, had been quite possibly one of the best-kept buildings she’d inspected all year.

“And now it’s up in flames?” She drew her brows together, wincing when the facial movement sent another dart of pain through her forehead, and turned from the counter. Her gaze sliced over the calendar on the wall between the upper level of cabinets and the sliding glass door that led onto her back deck.

Thank God, he didn’t make it in here last night.

Max would’ve spotted the calendar in an instant. He may not have pushed her to talk about what was bothering her last night, but she didn’t doubt he would’ve grilled her about why she had an SSFD calendar hanging on her wall that had gone out of date over two years ago. More, he definitely would’ve wanted to know why she’d kept that calendar turned to the month where his picture had been the centerfold.

Her gaze met his in the photo, raked down his face, and fell over his bare chest to the waistband of the turnout pants he wore. The man truly had one amazing body, sculpted to perfection in a way that didn’t leave a woman any other option but to drool.

“Or be pissed,” she grumbled as she stomped out of the kitchen and back to her bedroom. The nerve of him to be so sweet to her last night, to bring her home, kiss her back like that, then fucking leave before giving her a chance to tell him to get out.

“Really, Regina? How unreasonable can you get?” She shook her head at herself and thanked the patron saints of ibuprofen that the medicine seemed to be kicking in so quickly. Yanking a pair of black slacks and a white button-down shirt with the SSPD arson unit emblem on the left pocket from the closet, she found an idiotic comfort in knowing she could get far more unreasonable than that.