It’s absolutely no secret, because I have stated it many times over the years, that I ADORE this series. It’s one of my favorite series of all time! So I was tickled pink when the publisher put the first 4 books in this series into a box set. And since I love them so much and want you to have them, I’m going to gift one lucky reader who comments on this post, the box set which is now live at Siren! So tell us, your favorite literary hero of all time?
While you think about who your hero is, check out Silver Springs and get to know Tonya’s heroes in this series!
Congratulations, Tonya! So happy for you!
Hello, readers! Welcome to Silver Springs, Mississippi. No, the city doesn’t actually exist, but it’s full of life, adventure, danger, suspense, hot sex, super hunky heroes, and love. Almost anything can happen within the pages of The Heroes of Silver Springs novels, and often does.
If you’re familiar with the pre-Hurricane Katrina Mississippi Gulf Coast, you will likely find similarities in the city of Silver Springs that remind you of Ocean Springs. Billings, the hustle and bustle city across the water from Silver Springs, will remind you of Biloxi. I’ll admit I take great liberties with the landmarks and streets of Ocean Springs and Biloxi, moving them about and putting them where I want to fit the needs of my fictional cities, Silver Springs and Billings. Oh, and Waterston, where my FBI HQ is based… Hmm, I bet you can guess what city I think of when I write about it. The great Mississippi capital, Jackson.
Here are a few pictures of some of the most visited places in The Heroes of Silver Springs that I’d like to share to give you as good of a visual as I have in my mind.
The Heroes of Silver Springs starts off with the B-shift crew of the Silver Springs Fire Department in Caught off Guard. Though other hunky men in uniform from various agencies such as the DEA, FBI, Navy SEALs, and the Silver Springs Police Department often take the center stage in later books, the men and women of the Silver Springs Fire Department are almost always there. The picture above is what I’ve always envisioned the Silver Springs Fire Department to look like.
This is downtown Silver Springs. Veronica Abbot Wolcott, B-shift fire department captain Dean Wolcott’s wife, is the proprietor of a city popular shop on Main Street downtown known as Romantic Illusions. She opened the business in Caught off Guard [The Heroes of Silver Springs 1] and has attracted a lot of fun through its doors including a Silver Springs Fire Department B-shift calendar signing in Picture This [#5] and the Fired up for Boobs male strip show benefit in Going Under [#10]
This is the Silver Springs beach, where Firefighter Thaddeus Carter and DEA Agent Adrien Bingham shared their first mind-altering kiss in Hollywood Lights . Firefighter/EMT Terri Vega and Arson Prosecutor Gage Britt have breakfast across this beach in Up in Flames .
This is a simplified picture of the Silver Springs boat docks. A lot of action has happened at these docks, starting in Stormy Nights [#3], carrying through to Taken by Surprise [#7], and Up in Flames [#10]. It’s also the Silver Springs mainland access to Silver Island Excursions, which shuttles people to Silver Island where alternative lifestyles and especially ménage relationships are fully accepted and treasured in the series The Heroes of Silver Island.
Caught off Guard
The Heroes of Silver Springs 1
Fire Department Captain Dean Wolcott has struggled to tame the wild boy ways of his childhood. Now an adult, he’s a responsible and respected member of the Silver Springs Fire Department. But with all he has achieved, there is one thing he still longs for–Veronica Abbott. The sweet, innocent, rich girl was always out of his league, but that never stopped her from monopolizing his dreams. Now she’s back, and the woman she has become leaves Dean with his jaw touching the floor!
After a life of domineering parents and becoming a widow in her mid-twenties, Veronica is finally in control of her future. And a future of excitement, surprise and spice is exactly what she wants. Her new business–a shop of sexual favors and lingerie–is sure to give her some of that, but it’s the prospect of Dean Wolcott that really lights the fire inside her.
“You asked to see me?” Despite the fact that the woman of his dreams stood there looking at him, dressed only in a towel, with a heat in her eyes that would burst any thermometer; despite the fact that in about three seconds he would have a very visible pop-tent going on with the towel because of that look; that was the part his shocked mind latched on to. He even forgot that Barrett and Shannon were still in the doorway watching with wide eyes and amused expressions. She had asked to see him. Holy shit!
“I wanted to thank you for putting out the fire at my parents’ house,” she said, and he felt his dick sigh in disappointment. She wanted to thank him. Not invite him to that house for a dinner that would lead to hot, slippery sex in the bedroom. Which would then lead to another night of hot, slippery sex and another and another. Which would then lead to him asking for her hand in marriage and a lifetime of nights of that hot, slippery sex.
He looked at her—at her long blond hair, sweet rounded breasts that stretched the material of her maroon crop top, the gold loop bellybutton ring that showed above the very low cut waistline of her very short shorts—and wanted to cry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Barrett tap Shannon on the shoulder, cock his head, and the two tiptoed out of the doorway leaving him alone…with her! He was alone with Veronica Abbott in the locker room of the station house wearing only a towel and she…He looked down her body again. Hell, she wasn’t wearing much more than he!
The realization of that shocked him into confusion. The Veronica Abbott he remembered would never be dressed the way this woman was. She would never be standing in front of a man who wore nothing but a towel and looking at him as though she willed that towel to drop, either.
“I should get dressed,” he said quickly and turned to walk to his locker.
“Don’t do that on my account,” she said, and he stopped, turned. Though he had only taken a few steps, she had followed. She stood close, too close. When she spoke, her voice reverberated with arousal. “I like you this way. Although, if you want my opinion, I think you’re still wearing too much.”
Dean was flabbergasted. Sweet Jesus, the woman was coming on to him! His wildest, most crazed fantasy was coming true—no, even his fantasies couldn’t have created a moment like this—and he was too stunned to know what to do. He stared down at her, knowing all his bewilderment and shock were etched in his expression, and waited. For what, he didn’t have a clue.
She laughed. The sound was both musical and sultry. No doubt, the woman could make a fortune on one of those 900 sex lines. “Dean Wolcott, you’re looking at me as though you aren’t sure if you want to rip off my clothes or run for the door.”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted when he finally managed to find his voice.
“Lacy told me you aren’t the wild adventurous boy you once were, but I didn’t believe it.” She stepped even closer until their bodies touched. He could feel the heat radiating from her, smell the subtle hint of her sweet perfume.
“I’m not that boy anymore, Veronica.”
She clucked her tongue, lifted a hand, and trailed a fingernail down the center of his bare chest igniting a blazing fire in its wake. “And isn’t that a shame. You know, I always had the biggest crush on you.” Her finger stopped when it reached the barrier of the towel, paused, and he felt his eyes widen before the finger began slowly moving up again. “But you never would talk to me. Why was that, Dean?”
“I valued my life,” he said, his voice husky to his ears. God, she drove him mad! He fisted his hands at his sides to keep from touching her, because once he got his hands on her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to pry them off…ever! “I may have been a bit wild, but I didn’t have a death wish. Your parents would have had my head on a chopping block for even trying to get near you.”
“But my parents aren’t here now. They have no control over me anymore.” She flattened her hand on his chest, slid it down again. But this time she didn’t allow the towel to stop her descent. She continued, and when her fingers wrapped around his cock, he felt his breath lodge in his throat.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered as her hand began to stroke him.
She smiled up at him. “Not quite, but I guess you can call me a goddess if you wish, though Veronica will be sufficient enough.”
“Veronica, what—” She squeezed his dick, not too hard but just enough pressure to have his eyes rolling back in his head…and he completely forgot everything. He forgot that he was in the locker room of the station where one of the guys could walk in at any given time, that he was completely naked with his dick in a woman’s hand, that the woman was Veronica Abbott—a woman that he had no business being within twenty feet of much less close enough to have his dick in her hand—and lost himself in the moment.
He reached for her, but when he attempted to lean down for a kiss, she evaded him, kissing his chest instead. She licked her way through his chest hair to his nipple, fondled it with her tongue, sucked and all the while pumped his dick with her hand.
“I dreamed of doing this to you,” she said against his chest. “This among other things of course. You were my teenage fantasy fuck. I bet you never would have guessed that.”
“Not in my wildest dreams,” he murmured.
“Was I ever in your wildest dreams, Dean?”
“Every single one.”
“Then you won’t mind if I make one of those dreams come true,” she said, and for a moment, he was confused again. Then he felt her begin to slide down, felt her soft lips as they planted kisses down his abs and stomach and—
Holy God! She wasn’t going to—but oh yes, she was. She had sunk to her knees in front of him and was licking his cock. Her tongue trailed lightly from the base of his dick, so agonizingly slowly to its head that it made him whimper. Her tongue lapped at the pre-cum it found there, and she made an “Mmmm” sound.
“You taste so good Dean,” she said between licks.
“Veronica.” He nearly hissed her name. “We shouldn’t—”
“Do you want me to stop?” Her tongue circled the head of his dick, delved in the tiny opening at its tip, then slowly pulled away.
“God no!” He gasped and heard her soft laugh.
“Do you want more?”
Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock and she gave it a gentle squeeze. Then in one quick, knee locking, brain jarring, control-shattering stroke, she sucked him into her mouth all the way to his balls.
“Shit!” He gasped on a quiet whoosh of surprised air. He felt her smile around his dick even as she began to fuck him with her mouth. He had a big dick, and he half expected her to choke, but she didn’t. She opened the back of her throat, pulling him further inside the wet warmth of her mouth.
And he moved one step closer to Heaven. He wanted to touch her, wanted to feel her, wanted to drive her as mad as she was driving him. But he couldn’t move. It felt too dammed good. Where had this woman learned to suck a dick like this?
He felt the pressure building and tried to ward it off. Did she expect him to cum in her mouth? He didn’t know and couldn’t find enough of his scruples to ask. “Veronica,” he managed, hoping she could hear the warning in his tone.
If she heard the warning she ignored it. She lightly grazed her teeth up the length of him, and then sucked him harder all the way down, reaching at the same time to cup his balls.
“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed. Whether she wanted him to cum in her mouth or not, there was no way he could stop it.
She obviously sensed it, too, because she picked up pace, sucking him faster, fondling his balls in the palm of her hand until he shot his seed into her mouth. She continued to fondle and suck until he was completely drained, and then he felt her stand. Slowly, he opened his eyes, forced himself to focus. She was watching him, her eyes intent, her mouth closed. Then she visibly gulped, and he realized she had been holding his cum in her mouth until he could watch her swallow it.
The Heroes of Silver Springs 2
Angelina Keaton inherits the Keaton Municipal Airport and someone doesn’t like it, but fires and tampered airplanes aren’t enough to make her sell the family business.
But she can’t save the airport without help. She finds that help and a whole lot more in the Graham brothers.
Firefighter Jason Graham loves games. One look at Angelina and he knows he’s found the perfect playmate. But someone is playing a different game with Angelina and it’s turning deadly. Jason is no investigator but his twin brother is. Who better to call in on a mystery than an FBI Agent?
Put FBI Agent Jackson Graham in the middle of a case and he’s in his element. Not one for games, he prefers the direct approach and straightforward solutions. But when he finds himself in the middle of a game between his brother and Angelina, he decides playing along just this once could be fun.
Jason and Jackson Graham
Jason had crept through the living room, silently followed the sounds of ragged breathing and quiet noises of pleasure that grew louder as he neared the end of the hall. And at his own bedroom door, he met the surprise of his life. The moans belonged to Jackson all right. A Jackson that stood bare-ass naked a few feet inside the room with his dick shoved down Angelina’s throat.
Jason had watched them, shock and amazement rendering him speechless. He could see enough of Angelina to know she was dressed, though from what he could tell there wasn’t much to the lingerie she’d chosen. Sweet Jesus! She looked like a Goth version of an angel in all that black. Her hand slipped between Jackson’s legs, found his balls as she sucked him and dammed if Jason didn’t feel his own dick growing hard from the sight.
Jackson said something too softly for Jason to make out, but he guessed it to be a warning because his brother began thrusting hard and quick, fucking Angelina’s mouth. It wasn’t until then that Jason realized his brother wore a makeshift blindfold. Jackson. Claustrophobic, don’t-leave-me-alone-in-a-small-place, I-can’t-stand-the-dark Jackson, blindfolded!
And with that, Jason knew exactly what happened. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Angelina had decided to act out his kidnap fantasy but unknowingly got the wrong brother. She’d probably intercepted him at the station. It wouldn’t be the first time Jackson popped into town unannounced and showed up at the department at the end of Jason’s shift. She’d been there, Jason guessed, waiting for him, blindfolded Jackson and brought him here.
Jason had waited until they were through, until Jackson blew his wad down Angelina’s throat, until she leaned back on her heels to look up at him, until his own dick throbbed in painful jealously, before he spoke. Now, Angelina stared at him, her eyes huge in her face, confusion her paramount expression. Jackson’s hand flew to the blindfold, jerked it up and off his head as he shot a look over his shoulder. His eyes closed on a shaky breath then he opened them as he turned to face Jason.
“Oh, God.” Angelina gasped and fell back on her rump. The move was definitely not graceful and Jason got one hell of a view of bare pussy lips—thank you crotchless panties—as her legs spread on her way down. Her gaze danced wildly from Jason to Jackson, back and forth, back and forth so quickly she reminded Jason of a cartoon character watching a ball ping-pong bouncing around wildly. “Shit,” she breathed, the curse low and full of exasperation. “There are two of you.”
“You didn’t know we were twins?” Jackson asked, and the look he shot Jason was filled with accusation.
“No. I had no idea.”
What could Jason say? It hadn’t been an important factor to mention at the time? Jackson lived a good three hundred miles from Silver Springs and visited only once or twice a year for a day or so at most. Those visits generally coincided with Christmas and their father’s birthday in March. They were in the middle of August, nearly smack dab in between Jackson’s usual visiting months. Besides, how could he have guessed she would decide to turn criminal and end up with the wrong brother?
“And you aren’t Jason, are you?” she asked and looked up at Jackson. Hope and a deep perception swirled in her so expressive eyes.
He slowly shook his head. “I’m Jackson.”
Angelina nodded. “That’s what you meant when you said I had the wrong guy.” She winced and rubbed her forehead. “God, I thought you were just getting into the role.”
“I take it you got the book?” Jason said and couldn’t hide a grin. Dammit, he was jealous as hell that Jackson got to play out even half of Jason’s fantasy with this incredible woman Jason couldn’t get out of his mind. Jason’s dick was pouting because Jackson got the first blow job, and yet Jason felt this insane urge to laugh.
Angelina glared at him through long lashes. “Wipe that smirk off your face, buddy. You are so not in a position to be smiling about anything right now, funny man.”
Yet, was that a faint twitch Jason saw tug at the corner of her lips? He looked closer. Yes. Yes, she was definitely holding back a grin of her own. He looked at Jackson and, well what do you know, he was so obviously biting back a smile too. Was it possible the three of them could turn this into something to laugh about?
“Oh my God,” Angelina groaned and covered her face with her hands.
Jason’s heart leapt to his throat. Oh no, please don’t let her start to cry. Let her scream, rage at him and Jackson, throw a few punches even, anything but cry. Jason couldn’t stand to see a woman cry.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said into her hands.
He could see that much was true. Her skin was turning a pretty remarkable shade of red. And not just her face, or what he could see of her face around her hands. No. This blush began at the roots of her hair and quickly washed over her all the way to her ankles. He bet if he could see her toes inside those glossy black heels he would find them blushing too.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, his voice soft as he knelt beside her. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”
She sighed, dropped her hands, and looked at him. No. She hadn’t been crying, wasn’t even about to. Her eyes were dry even if they did seem darkened by a cloud of self-recrimination. “You tried to tell me. I’m the one who wouldn’t listen.”
“I should have made you listen.” He reached out, tentatively at first as though he expected her to slap at his hand, but when she didn’t, he laid that hand gently on her bare shoulder. “I really am sorry.”
And this was why Jackson was the twin that the women always went for? Jackson knew how to talk to a woman, knew how to show emotions that were so often too lost inside Jason to make a surface appearance. Jealousy curled in his gut, a familiar feeling he’d known most of his life. Jealousy because Jackson could show so easily things that he could not, and Jackson never felt embarrassed, or ashamed, or wrong about his emotions.
Still, it was a form of jealousy he could deal with. He’d lived with it for this long after all. This jealousy wasn’t some new feeling, some new form that developed from watching Jackson with Angelina. No. As long as he got to join in next time, he would be satisfied. Wouldn’t he? His relationship with Angelina was sexual. Wasn’t it?
Just like that, Jason knew what to do. Provided, of course, that Angelina liked this sex game stuff as much as he thought. He pushed himself off the door frame, walked to her side opposite Jackson, and knelt. He didn’t touch her, not yet. Instead, he rested one hand on his thigh and balled the other into a fist, placing it on the floor for balance.
* * * *
That would have been a piece of useful information earlier, Angelina thought as she studied Jason. God, she couldn’t believe this, couldn’t believe the things she’d done to the wrong twin, the things she’d been about to do. She should be angry, furious as hell at both of them. Yet, as she watched the mischief move behind Jason’s gray eyes, thought of the look that was both apology and desire she’d seen in Jackson’s equally gray eyes, what she felt was inspired.
How many women could claim possession of two incredibly sexy men like Jason and Jackson even if for a short time? She’d begun her little fling, as it were, with Jason for fun, used it as an escape from the horrors happening in her life. Why couldn’t she continue that fun now with both twins? She’d always fantasized about being with two men at once. What woman didn’t? So why not turn this fiasco into a fantasy fulfillment of her own?
The Heroes of Silver Springs 3
Tall, dark, and built for distraction, former Navy SEAL turned firefighter Ryan Magee has no trouble convincing a woman to share his bed, until he meets Tina. As infuriating as she is beautiful, Tina is the last woman he should want. So why does one night with her and Timmy have him thinking of picket fences and mini-vans?
Tina Walker might be a struggling single mother, but the last thing she wants is a man in her life, especially a hotheaded playboy like Ryan. Trouble is the sight of him sends her body on a vacation to Hormonal Happy Land. Her hunger for him increases when she and Timmy are forced to ride out a storm in Ryan’s home.
But when Ryan’s past follows him to Silver Springs, putting them in far greater danger than the hurricane, their time together may come to a grave end neither of them anticipated.
He didn’t touch her, didn’t stop her, didn’t do anything more than stand there and watch her with that expression of cautious warning and heat. Fire. It blazed in his eyes so hot and intense it was a wonder she didn’t go up in flames.
He was testing her. Or at least she thought he was. So she pushed it a little farther, playing a new game of let’s see what you will do when I do this. She moved a half a step closer, until the front of the satin robe brushed against his bare chest. He’d found a pair of jeans to cover his boxers, but he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. She wondered only half in jest if that was because he’d truly given Timmy his last clean one or if he simply wanted to tease her by strutting around shirtless with all of those hard muscles and mouthwatering ridges in full, unobstructed view.
She took a deep breath, albeit a shaky one and pushed the envelope even more. Her hand flattened on his chest, and she leaned in, traced the outline of his collarbone with her tongue. God but he tasted as good as he smelled, all musky and male with a faint hint of the natural scent left behind by the rain. She wanted to taste more of him, to lick her way across and down his amazing chest and washboard abs. She wanted to continue to explore him with her tongue, dipping it down beneath the waistband of his jeans until she found the one part of him she was truly dying to taste.
But she didn’t. She pulled back instead, allowing herself only that one leisurely sample before she cut off all urges for more with a sharpness that grated at her senses and made her want to scream. When she looked up, she found he’d tilted his head back, rested it on the window glass and closed his eyes. He stayed that way for more heartbeats than she could count before he finally lifted his head.
She let her hand glide over the heated flesh of his chest. His hard body felt so unbelievably good under her palm that she nearly groaned. She did make a soft sound that wasn’t quite a squeak but more than a gasp of surprise when he pinned her hand to his body beneath one of his.
“Don’t play with me, Tina.” His tone was husky, almost gruff, but full of an authoritative ring that danced down her spine and made spasms of excitement clinch at her insides. His eyes had gone almost impossibly dark, darker even than they had been when he’d kissed her at Dean’s. Was that anger or desire that turned them such a deep shade of brown, like a dark chocolate candy bar? She couldn’t be sure because she sensed both in the tautness of his body beneath her palm, in the quickening of his breath.
Tina glanced down at the hand he held, looked at where he’d stopped it midway on his abs. A long moment passed before she realized his words weren’t in reference to that hand which had been on a definite track south to his cock. But no. That wasn’t what he meant, and his next gruff words confirmed it.
“I don’t like games, and right now you’re playing with fire, babe.”
“And I’m bound to get burned.” He hadn’t left the sentence dangling, but she finished it for him anyway. “Isn’t that how it goes, Ryan? I have to confess I’m disappointed. I would have thought even a big, bad firefighter such as yourself could come up with a better line than that. Besides, you’re wrong. If anyone is playing here, it’s you playing with me.”
“Not yet, but if you don’t back off, sweetheart, I’m about to.”
And weren’t those words to instantly make her panties wet? Tina’s gaze danced across his features that seemed to be currently set on a permanent default of grim warning and lustful danger. No. She definitely wasn’t playing any games here. She licked her lips and met his gaze dead on. “Promises. Promises.”
His hand tightened on hers, gripped it, and pulled it away from his abs, but he didn’t drop it, didn’t push her away. Instead, he held her hand in his at her side, his other hand reaching under her hair to cup the back of her neck.
“You’re starting something that won’t be finished until this storm is over. You know that, don’t you?”
She expected him to kiss her. His hand on her neck, the way his gaze kept dropping to her mouth. It was coming. She was almost sure of it. So why didn’t he? Perhaps because he was waiting for her to answer? She knew he’d asked a question, but his touch, the intensity she saw in his eyes, the devilish roughness she heard in his voice made it hard for her to think, to comprehend.
“As long as that storm is out there you’re stuck, Tina. There’s no running from it. Start it now and it won’t end until the hurricane does.”
Ah, now she understood. Still, he thought….
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she assured him and felt only a slight flutter of wonder deep in the pit of her stomach. She did. Didn’t she?
His hand rolled on her neck, turning up to bury his fingers in her hair, to fist itself in the long strands. He tugged, a quick and forceful pull that brought her head back and drew a surprised gasp from her throat. It didn’t hurt. If anything it aroused, sending slivers of stimulation to dance through her body clear down to her toes. Then his mouth was on hers. He crushed her lips with his, taking with no finesse or tenderness, and she realized she’d pushed him to this. She asked for it, tormenting him and teasing him until he finally gave.
And God, did he give? He possessed her mouth, licking his way inside, withdrawing only to bite at her lip before licking it to sooth and move inside again. She tried to put her free hand between them to touch him, but he grabbed that hand too. Then he turned them both so fast she felt as though she’d suddenly boarded the Gravatron at the town carnival and pushed her against the wall beside the window. His body pinned her there, but it felt different from the last time he’d held her this way. He left no room between their bodies for so much as a breath of air to squeeze through let alone either of their hands, and when he let go of one of her wrists she had nowhere to put it but around his neck.
She did so, draping it loosely over his broad shoulder, expecting him to move back if only a smidgen so he could touch her. He’d had his hand up her shirt at Dean’s and she wanted it there again. Her breasts burned to be covered by his hand, to be kneaded and teased by his fingers. She had been able to think of little else since the first time. She had dreamed about it, remembered it, replayed the scene over and over so many times she put the preverbal broken record to shame. And on two separate occasions that memory drove her to find satisfaction in the only way available at the time. What more could a woman do when she awoke with her breasts taut and screaming, her pussy on fire and sopping wet but to reach for her vibrator?
It had been a poor substitute, her own hands on her breasts, finger on her clit, vibrator long and hard inside her weeping pussy. The orgasm had been pitiful compared to that which she felt certain Ryan could give her. If only he would put his hands where she wanted them.
“Ryan.” His name tore from her on a breathless plea as his lips left her mouth to lick at her cheek, nip at her jaw. “Touch me, Ryan. Please touch me. I want—”
But he silenced the rest of her words when he claimed her mouth once more. She hadn’t thought his kisses could get any more extreme or ferocious. Yet they did. God, the heat she tasted in him was scalding her insides!
Absently, as if suddenly her body were divided in two at the waist and her lower half were sending signals to her brain via written correspondence, she felt his hand graze her thigh through the satin of the robe. Finally, thank you sweet baby Jesus, he was going to touch her. Her nipples tightened in anticipation and she forgot all about the amazing things his tongue and teeth were doing to her mouth as she eagerly awaited his hand on her flesh.
It was cold to her heated skin, a block of ice ready to chill and soothe the smoldering surface of her flesh. His fingers snaked beneath the hem of the robe, danced across her thigh and left a trail of icy slivers in its wake.
But the hand didn’t climb. Instead, he moved, shifted and wedged a foot between hers on the floor, used it to urge her legs to part. God, if he planned to torment her pussy with his knee again, putting her in a position to gyrate and ride as he had the last time, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. He would walk away when this was over with a very wet pant leg.
It wasn’t his knee that inched its way toward her throbbing pussy. It was his fingers. He didn’t plan to play around at her breasts this time and leave it at that. Although the last time would have gone farther if Dean hadn’t interrupted. This time Ryan was going straight for the goal and, oh shit!
Sanity prevailed just as Ryan’s fingers pushed their way under the seam of her panties and directly between the slick, hot folds of her pussy lips.
All or Nothing
The Heroes of Silver Springs 4
Bailey Lamont’s struggle to come to terms with a past that left her nights filled with nightmares and her days consumed by fear ends with a surprising reward. Finally, she has the two things she wants most in life: a satisfying career and the heart of the man she loves. But will Tripp Barrett’s hardheaded determination cause her to lose it all?
Lieutenant Tripp Barrett may be down, but he is far from out. When an injury threatens to end his career, he refuses to sit around and wallow in self-pity. One way or another, he will return to the life he worked so hard to obtain. But is that life the one that is centered on his career or the one he’s just begun to share with Bailey Lamont? Can he have them both or will he be forced to give up one love in order to keep another?
Tripp kissed her and Bailey melted in his arms. Yes, this was what she wanted, what she needed. She let her fingers return to the waistband of his jeans, went back to fumbling with the button. Dammit! It shouldn’t be so hard to unfasten. Finally, she gave up and simply slipped her hand inside his pants. She found his cock hard and ready and when she managed to wrap her fingers around his shaft, the sound he made was pure heaven. But his pants were too tight for her to explore the way she wanted to and she couldn’t get to his cock, to stroke his shaft the way she wanted to in this position.
“Help me,” she all but growled the words as she wrenched her mouth from his. “I can’t get it undone.”
He laughed. Laughed! Damn him. But instead of helping her, he caught her arm, pulling it from his pants. “I’ll help but,” he stopped and shook his head, “I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to do this. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you. Your wrist…”
“I’ll put it above my head,” she said quickly. He released her arm and she went for the button of her own jeans instead. Wouldn’t you know it? That button all but fell off in her fingers. Why wouldn’t his do that? “You can even tie my fingers to the headboard if you want.” She yanked on the zipper and wiggled her jeans down over her hips, let them fall to her ankles and stepped out of them.
“Bailey.” He was laughing at her now. God, she loved the sound of his laughter. It was something else she needed right now, to keep this moment light, fun.
“I understand that you don’t want to hurt me.” She glanced down at the pullover SSFD uniform t-shirt she wore. Okay, how would she manage this one? “I assure you that not touching me, not making love to me, not unfastening your freaking jeans for me, so I can really feel you, is killing me. And while you’re at it, you can help me figure out how I’m going to get out of this dammed shirt, short of ripping it to shreds.”
Tripp reached for her again, this time taking her hand in his and pulling her toward the bedroom. His house was a one-bedroom loft, the bedroom at the top of a long hardwood staircase. He led her up those stairs, taking each step slowly, reminding her with each step of the injury to his back, of the brief conversation she’d heard between him and the captain back at the hospital.
He moved well these days, with rarely a limp of any kind, with or without his cane. Had she heard him right? Was he planning to return to the fire department?
The chilling sense of impending doom returned, threatening to kill the light, fun mood she’d attempted to put on this moment, but just as quickly, it fled as they reached the top of the stairs and Tripp walked her to the edge of his bed. He turned her to face him, his hands moving to her waist and inching their way up under her t-shirt, and she forgot all about conversations, about careers, about everything, except the amazing feel of his work-roughened hands on the smooth bare flesh of her sides, her rib cage, her breasts.
God, yes! When his hands cupped her breasts, she felt so giddy from the pleasure that she actually laughed. Her laughter lasted only seconds, though, because he pushed her bra and shirt above her breasts, leaned in, sucked one already taut nipple between his lips and, sweet baby Jesus, her knees went weak.
He caught her, his arm encircling her waist, but not before her legs buckled and she sat down on the edge of the bed. It caught him off balance, her going down, and he went down with her, on top of her as they fell back together on the mattress laughing.
Tripp was instantly contrite. He lifted his upper body to rest on one hand beside her and gazed down at her, worry and fear swirling with the heat and desire in his grayish-blue eyes. “Oh, God, did I hurt you? You’re arm….Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Bailey assured him, still laughing. “My arm is fine. We’re okay. Better than okay. Do it again.”
“Do it again, huh?” His gaze turned the consistency of molten lava as he glanced down at her exposed breasts, licked his lips, and then met her eyes once more.
“Don’t look at me like that unless you intend to kiss me,” she warned, completely unable to keep herself from squirming beneath him. In truth, she loved when he looked at her that way, like she were his princess, his heart, his smorgasbord of delightfully tasty treats just waiting to be devoured.
“You mean like this?” His mouth lowered to hers, his lips brushing hers in a featherlike caress. “Or this?” He outlined her slightly parted lips with the tip of his tongue, then licked his way over her jaw, her chin, down her throat. “Or would you rather me kiss you like this?” He moved lower still, bending his head until, yes, once again his lips closed around her nipple.
“Yes. Yes!” Bailey cried out as he gently nipped the tip of her engorged nipple with his teeth, then lightly soothed with a lick of his tongue. He alternated from a tender bite to a soothing lick, until she writhed beneath him, her back arched, the fingers of her uninjured hand digging into the sheets on the mattress at her side.
“Tripp, please!” Flames erupted between her legs, her pussy burning to be touched, to be entered, dear God, to be fucked. She wanted him inside her, needed him inside her. And he still had on his freaking jeans!
She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back, and lifting her heat to his crotch. Her panties were little more than a thin strip of satin, soaking wet satin thanks to the juice-flowing things he was doing to her breasts, and they did nothing to protect her sensitive folds from the roughness of his denim jeans. She rubbed herself against him, creating a friction that had her spiraling to the edge of release.
“Tripp, I’m going to—”
“No, you’re not.” He let her nipple fall from his mouth as he lifted his head to look at her. His eyes blazed with the same heat she felt coursing through her entire body. “Hold it back. Don’t cum yet. Not until I’m inside you.”
“Then you better get inside me fast because I’m not sure how much longer I can wait before I explode.”
He moved off of her, shedding his shirt, his pants in record time. She didn’t think she’d ever been so grateful that he preferred to go commando. It was fewer clothes for him to take off now. He reached in the bedside table drawer, removed a condom, and covered himself, protecting them both.
But he didn’t throw himself down on top of her and slam his cock inside her eagerly awaiting pussy as she hoped. No, instead he just stood there looking down at her, that heat in his eyes taking on more intensity than she’d ever witnessed in any fire.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, almost in awe.
Bailey pointedly let her gaze slide over his broad shoulders, his slightly hairy chest, down his washboard abs and flat stomach. When she reached his cock, large and long and standing at full attention against his body, she let her gaze linger for a long time before she slowly met his eyes again. “Damn,” she whispered. “So are you.”
He laughed, a short burst of fiery sound, but still he didn’t move.
“You’re killing me again,” she told him in a singsong voice. But that was okay because she knew how to kill back. She lifted her hand, touched the inside of her knee, let one finger trickle down the inner side of her leg, her thigh, lower.
He watched her, his expression riveted, his breath growing more rapid the closer her finger got to her pussy. When she traced the outside of her pussy lips with that finger, she heard him make a low sound in his throat suspiciously like a growl and she laughed.
It got the response she was looking for. Thank you, Jesus. He climbed between her legs and then, oh baby, he was inside her. He needed no guidance or finesse. With one skilled, practiced move, he thrust inside her awaiting heat, ramming himself all the way to the hilt.
Bailey cried out at the penetration of his cock, hard and thick, spreading her tight, slick hole. He filled her to the point of bursting and, holy mackerel, it felt so amazingly fantastic that dying from the sheer bliss of it seemed a real possibility. He knew she liked it fast and hard and he gave it to her, thrusting inside her so deeply, he reached the end of her womb, pulling out until only the head of his dick was still inside her opening before plunging in again.
Tonya Ramagos is a best-selling author of erotic romance series, such as The Heroes of Silver Springs, The Heroes of Silver Island, Uniformed and Blazing Hot, and Uniformed and Smoking Hot, and Rescue Ranch as well as many single title romances. She also writes Old West novels under the name Bonnie Parker. She is a full-time author writing exclusively for Siren Publishing, in her opinion, the absolute best publishing company in the business. An avid reader, hiker, and dart thrower, she lives in the Chattanooga, Tennessee area.
BookStrand Author Page: http://www.bookstrand.com/tonya-ramagos
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/tonyaramagos