Up in Flames [The Heroes of Silver Springs 10] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (3 page)

Regina scowled and took great care not to slur her next words. “Yeah, you put your money wherever you want. I think I’ll stick with the babbling.”

“Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Regina straightened stiffly in her seat and stared out the passenger window, only absently seeing the passing trees and houses on the residential street. “Positive.”

“All right.” Max waited a beat. “Did you hear about that accident a couple of weeks ago out on Vancleave Road? Two cars, head-on collision, one caught fire under the hood?”

Regina rubbed her forehead before propping her elbow on the window frame of the door, half relieved he’d let the subject drop so easily and partly pissed that he hadn’t pressed. “I don’t think so. I heard about the one that happened last week. You guys were toned out for that one, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, same scenario, only this one happened on Washington Avenue. The first one wasn’t in our district, but Kyle was pulling an extra shift at Station 4 the day it happened.”

Regina shook her head. “You’re going to have to help me here, Max. I’m drunk, remember? If I’m supposed to be grabbing onto something, I’m grabbing nothing but air. I know I wasn’t called in to investigate either accident.”

Max steered the truck around another turn and failed miserably at attempting to stifle a laugh. “You weren’t called because there didn’t appear to be a need for investigation. SSPD did their part, figured out who was at fault, and deemed both fires to be mechanical failure or some shit.” He pushed a hard breath from his lungs. “There probably isn’t anything to grab onto but air. I don’t know. Kyle brought it up today at his place, the similarities between the two accidents, the fact that both were head-on collisions that resulted in one of the cars catching fire under the hood. Miraculously, no one was injured in either accident, but wrecks like that don’t happen much these days. The NHTSA has set standards for manufacturers to make sure collision-related fires don’t happen.”

“What kind of cars were they?”

“See, that’s the other peculiar thing. Both cars that caught fire were early-eighties-model Buick Regals.”

“Same make and model? Same type of fires?”

“Yes and yes. The SSPD didn’t put it together, different officers called to the scene, different shifts, et cetera. Hell, we probably shouldn’t be putting it together either. It struck Kyle as odd, and the guys chatted about it over plastering walls and fixing baseboards.” Max slowed the truck to a stop, then turned in his seat to face her. “That’s your place, right?”

Regina looked out the window, immediately noting she’d forgotten to flip on her porch light on her way out that morning. She hadn’t intended on being out so late tonight, hadn’t planned on getting drunk, and damn sure hadn’t fathomed she’d be bringing Max Jasper home with her.

“Yeah.” She looked back at Max and drew her brows together. “I didn’t tell you where I live, did I?”

“You told the cap one day when I happened to be standing close by.”

Dean Wolcott was the captain of B-shift and, lately, had become her closest friend and confidant. “You know I’m crazy about your captain, right?”

“I know you’ve been spending a lot of time in his office the last few months.”

“Yeah, he’s great. He’s…He reminds me a lot of—”
My father.
Damnit, she didn’t want to think about her father right now. The last thing she needed to do was morph from babbling drunk to sobbing hysterically with Max Jasper around.

Max waited a beat. When he apparently decided she wasn’t going to finish, he switched off the engine and opened his door. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside.”

* * * *

Max rounded the front of the truck and reached the passenger door just as Regina opened it. He held out a hand, taking a deep, steadying breath as she put her hand in his. Touching a woman had never sent his insides on a riot of craziness. The slightest skin-to-skin contact with her turned his system into a freaking circus of acrobatic needs and desires.

He held her hand as she slid out of the truck. Her grip tightened, and her free hand latched onto his bicep when she swayed. Reflex had his other hand shooting out to catch her waist. Her eyes slammed shut, and she giggled softly before taking a deep breath.

“I guess I’m not quite as steady on my feet as I thought.”

Max would’ve grinned if the sensations of having her in his arms again hadn’t instantly sent his brain on a fast track to get-it-on-ville. “Yeah, that goes back to the alcohol and the whole chemical process thing. It tends to have quite an effect on the body’s motor skills, too.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze slowly dragged up his face to meet his. “Do you ever step out of that lab of yours?”

Max did grin then. “Am I really that bad?” He winced inwardly and waited for her to let him have it. She didn’t like him. She’d made it perfectly clear on more than one occasion.

She likes you when she’s drunk.

Yeah, so far, the only times they’d managed a few minutes of casual conversation that hadn’t ended in him being dubbed Lieutenant Ass and her bearing her pit-bull teeth, ready to take a bite out of him, had been when she’d had a few drinks.

“You’re…” She shook her head, the movement causing her to sway again and stumble off balance.

Max steadied her and waited for her to finish, but she left it hanging.

“I’ve got it now. I’m good.” She added the last with the overpeppiness of the totally inebriated as she released his hand and bicep. “The house is that way.” She lifted a hand to point over his shoulder and nearly took off the tip of his nose. “Oops, sorry. If you’ll back up a bit, I’m sure I can make it up the sidewalk and into the house with no problems.”

Max eased aside, both hands at the ready if the need arose to make a quick grab for her. “How about I follow you? You know, in case the sidewalk decides it’s time to tilt under your feet or something?”

Her gaze slammed back into his, and, even in the darkness of the night, he didn’t miss the emotions that flashed in her eyes. Heat, hope, uncertainty, and more he didn’t dare attempt to define shot through her light-blue eyes leaving a trail of irritation in their wake.

“If I needed a father, Max, I’d—” She huffed a frustrated breath and, once again, left her statement hanging. “Fine. Follow if you want to.” She flattened a hand on the front of his shoulder, pushing him even further aside as she walked around him. “But you’re not coming inside.”

Max gave her mental props for not tossing that last over her shoulder. If she’d tried to look back while she swayed up the sidewalk the way she was doing, she likely would’ve fallen on her nose. Though he could no longer see said nose with her back to him, he remembered it fondly and rather liked it without the scraped skin and crooked shape a fall to the concrete would probably give it.

“I wouldn’t dream of coming inside,” he muttered as he shuffled to catch up with her. And, yeah, okay, so that was a lie. He had dreamt of it plenty of times, though very few of them included her house and none of them ever started this way. He’d fantasized about her showing up at his place instead. He’d open his front door to find her standing there, an apology for her fiery red-headed temper on her tongue, and he’d silence her with a kiss that sent them both straight to happy hormonal land. She was stone-cold sober in his dreams, too, in full control and completely aware of her actions.

Something she definitely isn’t tonight.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, Max watched her stumble on the first step. He lunged for her in the nick of time, hooked an arm around her waist, and yanked her up before her knees hit the concrete. Her entire body shook in his embrace, and it took him a second to realize she was laughing.

Biting back a grin, Max righted her on the step and guided her up the next two until she stood on the flattened deck of her front porch. “Looks like you found a problem after all.”

His arm still locked around her waist, she turned in his embrace. One of her hands immediately found his shoulder, but it took a few heartbeats for her face to lift and her gaze to meet his. When it did, he had to let the grin free. Even in the darkness broken only by a sliver of silvery moonlight, he could see her face had turned as red as her hair.

“I guess it’s a good thing you decided to follow me after all.” She closed her eyes briefly and managed to get her laughter under control. “I don’t get like this, you know? I mean, sure, you’ve seen me get drunk before at the New Year’s Eve party at the station, but—”

“Everybody deserves a night to let loose once in a while,” Max interrupted her. “We work hard and sometimes we play harder. There’s nothing wrong with forgetting it all for a night now and then.”

Her hand on his shoulder slid to his nape, her fingers delving in the short hairs at the back of his head, and geezus, Max’s breath caught in his throat.

“You didn’t drink enough to forget it all tonight.”

Max stared down at her, his mind reeling. He could feel her heart beating against his rib cage, a rapid thump, thump, thump, and damn if his own heart didn’t settle into the same pace. “I don’t have anything I want to forget right now.”

Max felt her hand on his nape pulling his head down and couldn’t find the strength to stop her. The warmth of her breath and the fruity-fragranced lingering scent from the alcohol fanned his lips when she spoke.

“I wish I could say that. Something tells me I’m going to have a whole lot more I want to forget come morning.”

Every word of that whispered statement should have given Max a brake check. He should have pulled back. He should have sent her into her house alone. He should have made some snarky comment that would bring out the pit bull in her instead of this sultry, sensationally amazing woman in his arms. He should have done anything but allow her to kiss him.

Her lips felt like the smoothest of satin as they lightly brushed his, her tongue a delicate silk as it peeked from her mouth to outline his lips before teasing its way between them.

Every fire tone in the state of Mississippi sounded in Max’s head as her tongue met his. He knew he should stop, but the taste of her, sweet and fruity and filled with desire, fed his hunger to a raging inferno. He flattened his free hand on her ass, cupped a cheek and squeezed. Geezus, it felt as stupendous as he’d imagined, equally firm and soft against the palm of his hand, and he couldn’t stop himself from angling his head to take the kiss deeper.

Kiss? Hell, no! This was nothing like any kiss he’d ever shared with a woman. She controlled him, inhaled him, consumed him until all thoughts beyond getting her inside and getting her fucking horizontal right freaking now left his mind. Her hands were all over him, in his hair, her nails scraping over his nape, the back of his shoulder, and down his bicep, igniting more flames beneath the surface of his flesh. She moaned into his mouth, arched her lower body into his, and gyrated against his rock-solid cock. He very nearly blew his wad right there in his jeans on her front porch.

Max stepped her back and pressed her against her front door. Only then did he release his hold on her ass and the small of her back. He framed her hips with his hands, dragged them up her sides, and marveled at the sounds she made from his touch.

Her tongue went wild in his mouth, tangling with his, licking his pallet, swiping over the back of his teeth, and then diving deep again. Her lower body ground against him, torturing his cock to an all-new pain. He dragged his hands down her sides, gathered her shirt in his fingers, and pulled it free of the waistband of her skirt.

He delved his hands beneath the material of her shirt, moaning into her mouth when his fingers met with silky, warm flesh, and started an exploration of her torso that drove him the final mile out of his mind. Still kissing him, she eased her torso back as he pushed his hands between their bodies and glided his palms over her abdomen. He felt her quiver at the touch, heard her make the sweetest, most erotic sound he’d ever heard into his mouth, and he inched his way up until his fingers met with the underwire of her bra.

Her hand glided down his bicep, skipped to his side, then pushed between their lower bodies. She slithered between him and the door, sending him straight to madness with the way she ground against his cock.

Pressure built in his shaft and balls, and he felt a wet spot in his briefs, no doubt from pre-cum collecting on the head of his cock. Anticipation of her touch had the vein in his shaft throbbing to an almost unbearable pain. That pain intensified when he absently realized it wasn’t his dick she was reaching for. Her hand had disappeared into the front pocket of her skirt, and he heard the unmistakable jingle of keys as she pulled them free.

Expecting her to break the kiss and not wanting the moment to end, Max delved his fingers beneath the underwire of her bra and pushed the cups up until her breasts filled his hands. He felt her breath catch, her tongue momentarily freezing in his mouth, and then registered the sound of the keys jingling once more.

She shifted slightly, pushing her breasts more insistently into his hands as she reached behind her for the door. To his intense amazement, he heard the key slide into the knob next, noted the soft click as the lock surrendered, and barely caught them both from falling to the floor as the door opened and they stumbled inside.

Blindly, Max found the door with his foot and kicked it shut before backing her against it again, this time on the inside. He finally took the liberty of breaking the kiss in favor of tasting her flesh. He fondled her breasts as he licked his way to her jaw, flicking his thumbs over her hardened nipples as she tipped her head back and exposed the slender column of her neck for him to explore.