AVAILABLE: Thursday, August 6th
[Siren Publishing Romance Collection: Contemporary, Menage a Trois, Romantic Suspense, Consensual BDSM, MMF, MF with MM play]
In Picture This, six months ago, Hurricane Emilio left a path of destruction through Silver Springs and Billings. Like many of the city residents, Rayne Jacobs' sole focus has centered on rebuilding her life and helping those around her. How can a freelance photographer come to the rescue of the people in the city she loves? The question is heavy on her mind when she finds herself staring into an intoxicating pair of whisky brown eyes. The answer comes when she's asked to take pictures for a Men of the Silver Springs Fire Department B shift charity calendar.
Detective Ford Harris has a sharp eye for detail and keenly developed senses. Right now his eye is on Rayne. When he discovers the deadly surprise caught on film, he fears he'll need all his senses to bring the threat down before it gets to her.
It's been years since a woman caught EMT Cory Nox's heart, but Rayne Jacobs manages to do it on sight. The discovery that she's also the woman his roommate has fallen for spells pleasure with a capital P. But will it be his EMT skills that are needed most when danger comes down on their heads?
In Hollywood Lights, Tess returned to Silver Springs leaving her heart and acting aspirations behind in Hollywood. Two years later, both have followed her. Now an officer with the SSPD, she's found the strong, in control, happy side of herself she always sought. But a single command from Devon Gerard's panty-wetting voice takes it all away, sending her spiraling down a path of wicked desire.
Devon never understood why Tess left. Still, he let her go without a fight, and it was the stupidest thing he ever did. When his latest role brings him to Silver Springs, he knows it's time to reclaim what is his. But a case she's working on collides with the film he's shooting, throwing them into a battle that rages with danger, deceit, and desire.
Tonya Ramagos is a Siren-exclusive author.
"We've both kept crazy schedules lately," Cory chimed in. “Ford's more than mine because he's got this huge case he's working on. We've been passing each other coming and going and sometimes not even then."
"Until tonight." Ford's hands moved to her shoulders and started to massage, lightly, slow. It felt good. Rayne let her eyes drift closed, let her neck fall slightly forward as a bit of the anger, the confusion, and the tension left her. "I came in tonight to find Chef Nox had turned our kitchen into an herbal five-star restaurant for a woman named Rayne Jasper. As for myself, I was already into my first beer, planning to take it to my room where I figured I would lay on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and indulge in my favorite fantasies about a woman named Rayne Jacobs. Where did the Jacobs come from, anyway?"
Yeah, like she wanted to talk about that right now. “Ex-husband.”
“I kind of figured.” Ford nodded. “Care to tell us more?”
“Real loser, thought I was in love, figured out it was only lust.” Eyes still closed, she gave them the quickest summary of that forgettable chapter of her life that she could. “Married too quick, regretted it almost instantly. It’s really not all that complicated. One of those rush in, rush out kind of things.”
“Then you weren’t married for long?”
“Five grueling months, two excruciating weeks, six nerve racking days, ten torturous hours, and twenty-nine haunting minutes.”
“Wow!” Cory barked a laugh. “It was really all that, huh?”
“That was putting it mildly. Um, guys, I believe we got a little off subject here.”
"You’re right.” Cory nodded and took over the conversational ball. “We, Ford and I, started talking and found a common denominator between the two Raynes."
Rayne lifted her head and opened her eyes at that.
"Sunshine." All three spoke in unison.
"Got it in one." Ford chuckled. "Although, come to think of it, the little devil dog gives me an exhibition tug of war show with a black lace bra and then goes all sweet angel dog for Cory and lets him walk her around the block. If you ask me, I’d say it is Sunshine who is setting you up."
Rayne laughed. She couldn't help it. The idea of her sweet, little puppy staging something to pair Rayne with not one, but two hunky guys was just too funny.
"There, that's better." Cory touched the corner of her lips with a knuckle. "Do you believe us now?"
Rayne nodded and looked at them both. "But you aren't mad. Neither of you are the least bit angry with me." And she couldn't, for the life of her, fathom why. Not that she necessarily wanted them to be. She certainly didn't want them mad and yelling at her or, God, going to blows over her or something. Still, talk about not giving the expected reaction. In all her experience with men, even those who claimed to love her but really could’ve cared less, none of them would have been as, well, blasé as Ford and Cory were being now.
"We have no reason to be." Ford shrugged. "You were honest with both of us. We both knew you were dating someone other than us." He seemed to think about that for a second and then asked, "Are you dating someone other than us?"
"No!" God, she could barely handle the two of them!
"Well, okay then." Ford nodded and grinned that boyish grin that had her toes melting.
Rayne looked to Cory. "You're truly okay with him staying tonight?"
Ford clapped his hands. "I'll get the wine while you two talk this out."
Cory waited until Ford was out of the room before he replied. "I'm truly okay with him staying." He grazed the back of his fingers down her cheek. "His being here won't change a thing. Well, not much."
There was conviction, determination, and something else in his eyes she couldn't define, something that made her heart trip wildly. Oh, but it would. Ford's presence tonight would change a lot.
"It's all in what you want, Rayne," Cory told her in a voice barely above a whisper. "Always what you want."
What she wanted. Dear God! She wanted him. She wanted Ford. "Then I want him to stay," she said because the last thing she needed was to be alone with either of them tonight. She would find safety in numbers instead, because no way would she fall for them both. A woman couldn't fall for two men at once. Could she?
Hands moved beneath the material of her dress now securely bunched at her waist and warm breath tickled the side of her neck. She amended that last thought. Fantasy men come to life. Glory be to horny women everywhere!
"Should we take this as your answer?" Ford asked, licking the side of her neck just below her earlobe in a slow and tantalizing glide that had her moaning into Cory's mouth.
Yes, her sense of hearing had returned. She clearly heard his question followed by her own low, throaty moan. Now, however, her sense of speech was impaired by Cory's amazingly skilled mouth, his delectable tongue. She reached up and behind her instead, blindly finding the nape of Ford's neck and tugging his velvety wicked lips to her neck. She felt him smile, heard his soft chuckle, and then lost herself in the truly devious things he started to do with her neck, her ear. She might be damned later for doing this but what a way to go.
Between her legs, Cory's thigh slowly lowered and inched away. The absence of that pressure to her aching pussy was intense and immediate. She wanted to slide down, to slither and chase after it, but doing so would mean breaking the kiss.
He broke it anyway, pulling away just far enough to gaze down at her. His eyes had turned a darker green than she'd ever seen them and heavy lidded with desire. He was breathing fast. She felt the brisk rise and fall of his body beneath her hand that had once again wound itself around the wide expanse of his shoulders during that mind altering kiss.
"Have you ever been with two men before?"
Though her sense of hearing was back full force, it took a moment for her passion-fogged brain to wrap around his huskily asked question. Before she could find her no doubt ragged voice to answer, her sense of feel overrode, drawing her attention to their hands.
Cory's hand moved from her buttocks to her waist, taking the place of Ford's hands as one of his dipped to cover her throbbing mound through the thin satin of her thong panties, the other sliding between hers and Cory's bodies up her front to the base of her throat.
"Have you ever shared your body with two men at once, Rayne?" Ford whispered in her ear, the same question Cory asked but worded in such a way that flames ignited in every erogenous zone in her body.
Still unable to find her voice, her gaze locked with Cory's heated, melting candy eyes and she shook her head.
"Will you?" Cory nipped her bottom lip, her chin. "Will you give your body to us?"
Could this really be happening? Rayne let her eyes drift closed as Cory nipped at her jaw, as his fingers kneaded her waist, as Ford held her still with his large hands splayed at her throat and pussy. She was almost afraid to open her eyes again, afraid she would discover it all to be a dream. She was being given the chance to live a fantasy nearly every woman possessed but few ever got the opportunity to entertain. If this were a dream, she prayed she would die having it.
"Yes." The word left her mouth barely more audible than a whisper. Their heat consumed her. Their scents both musky and faintly salty were a treat far greater than any exotic plant or fruit on the island paradise in her wildest fantasy. They both looked at her. She didn't need to open her eyes to know it. She felt the intensity of their gazes in every ounce of her body.
Lips cruised over her eyebrows, her closed lids, the tip of her nose, her mouth. Cory's lips as they trailed down her chin and neck. Could he feel the rapid beat of her heart? Could they hear it beating so fast between them? How could they not? It slammed in her chest so fast it was deafening.
"Relax against me," Ford instructed softly, his face nuzzling the side of her neck, his teeth lightly biting her lobe, gently tugging.
Rayne moaned and opened her eyes. Cory stood straight before her, his gaze once more transfixed on her. She saw him glance over her shoulder and knew he looked at Ford. She could almost feel the unspoken communication between the two men. Their understanding was that palpable. Then Cory gave an infinitesimal nod, a smile, and a feather soft kiss to her lips, before he returned to his cruising exploration of her flesh. His fingers joined his mouth on her body, working to free the buttons of her dress, licking and kissing each inch of skin he exposed as he trailed his way down.
She wanted him to move faster. Grip the fabric in both hands and rip the blasted buttons free. Feast on me, damn it! The nibble and swipe he did with his tongue was excruciating. To add oil to the fire, or maybe to simply send her on a direct trip to the nut house, he kept his kisses and licks on a straight, snail's paced path down, not even deviating to suckle a nipple or kiss a breast as he freed the buttons all the way to her waist.
"Please," she begged, her head rolling involuntarily on Ford's chest behind her. "God, Cory, I can't stand this." Her pussy throbbed. Juices pooled between her feminine lips, collecting in a thick, slick stream. She tried to wiggle, to gyrate her lower body against Ford's solid one at her back, but his hand had moved from her mound to her hip. He held her still, a gentle but firm pressure.
"Patience, sweetheart." Ford's whisper held a hint of pure amusement. "You gave your body to us, remember?"
Oh, she remembered all right, and she had no intentions of being an Indian giver. What she wanted was to give more, to give completely, and to take. Dear Goddess of Hormones, she wanted to take!
She bent to untie her boots and reconsidered her decision not to go to the mall for the Crocs she wanted. The black dress and red heels would make a killer outfit for one of the many parties certain to spawn from having a movie being filmed in the city. Maybe she did lose in the simulation room, but she beat Colin and had only been mere points behind Ford. How many cops with barely a year and a half on the force could say that?
"You can," she said aloud as she straightened and froze. She sensed the presence at her back a fraction of a second before a large hand clamped over her mouth. She registered the faint scent of spearmint and an even more remote smell of hand sanitizer.
Instinctively, her left hand came up to grasp at the long, slender fingers even as she reached with her right hand for her gun in her shoulder holster at her left breast. He caught her. In a brisk move, she found her right arm wrenched behind her, held in place by her assailant and the hard body pressed against her. The position prevented her from drawing her weapon.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins, speeding her heart and scrambling her brain. She didn't bother to scream. With Samantha scheduled to pull a late shift, her roommate wouldn't be home until early morning at best. Besides, she didn't need someone to come to her rescue. She was a cop. She could take care of herself.
Think, Theresa. You know what to do. You've trained for this.
Remembering her self-defense classes, her mind kicked into preservation mode. She retained the mobility of her left hand. Good. She may not be as accurate a shot with it as her right, but she knew how to use it in desperate times. Right now, she couldn't think of a more desperate situation.
She had her feet, too. They often proved to be a woman's best weapon, and hers remained planted in hard-soled boots. She'd loosened the strings, but that wouldn't hamper her from bringing the heel down on her attacker's toes with enough force to cause him some real pain. That would buy her some time.
There, she had a plan. Stomp on his toes while simultaneously going for her piece with her left hand. And when she got her finger on her gun, Watch out, fucker.
"Don't go for your gun."
The order came soft, but rang with authority in a voice decidedly male, husky, and warm against the side of her face.
"Do it and I might have to punish you." The tone rather than the words made her turn stiff as a stone in his arms. A part of her—devious, evil, dangerous, a part she never liked—considered reaching for her weapon just to see if he kept his word.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Yes, he would. Oh, God, yes, he would.
"Is anyone else here?" His lips moved like a feather-soft caress to her cheek, and her heart stumbled in her chest. "Shake your head yes or no."
You should've thought about that before you broke into the place. The words sprang to the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't say them because his hand still covered her mouth. She started to shake her head yes. What would he do if he found out they weren't alone? Would he let her go? Would he leave?
Her belly gave a little jolt in protest. A trickle of fear mixed with the adrenaline, and she shook her head. No, no one else was home. They were alone.
No, not good for her.
"I'm going to move my hand from your mouth," he told her in that quietly authoritative voice that left no room for argument as to who controlled the moment. "Promise me you won't scream?"
Tess shook her head again, this time up and down. Yes, she promised. She couldn't have screamed if she wanted to because all ability to make a sound left her the moment she heard his devilishly sexy voice.
"Good." His hand slowly fell away, but not before he brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth. Her lips parted, an involuntary response, and a ragged breath escaped as he trailed his hand down, bringing her left hand with it as he grazed his palm along her throat.
Tess let her head fall back to rest on the firmness of his chest. She felt it rise and fall on a ragged breath that mirrored hers. Heat radiated from his proximity and, for a moment, she let herself feel every place their bodies touched. Her head and shoulders to his broad chest, her back to his front, his groin to her lower spine, his legs pressed to the backs of hers. He felt like an unmovable wall of toned muscle and incredible potency that zapped her resolves and ignited her every wicked desire.
"That's my girl," he whispered.
She gulped and closed her eyes. Dear God, help me. Please, help me.
But there would be no help for her. There never had been. Every erogenous zone in her body leapt to full do-me alert at his touch just as it always did. She knew she should fight it, wanted to. Her mind screamed at her. She should be stronger than this, strong enough to protect herself against him.
His fingers began to lightly caress her collarbone, sending pulse points of sizzling desire straight to her pussy. She knew with bone melting certainty that she would never be able to shield herself against him. She'd never been able to fight her mind, her body, or her soul in opposition to the control of Devon Gerard.
Tess couldn't think. Perhaps that was a good thing.
No, not perhaps. Not thinking would prove to be a very good thing. At least until this ended. Until reality slapped her in the face and her real world returned.
But right about now, with Devon's hands on her ass and his tongue inching toward her aching heat, she couldn't remember precisely what her real world entailed. His tongue skipped lower, stopped a millimeter from hitting home, and she whimpered.
"Please." She hadn't meant to beg, would surely be embarrassed as hell about the fact that she did later, but now it rendered her with the ability to forget her inhibitions. Her body wanted, needed things he denied her, and if she had to beg to get them, then Goddamn it, she'd beg.
He laughed, the bastard, a breathy chuckle against her lower belly that brought goose pimples to the surface of her flesh from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Then he pulled back, pushing her from between his legs, and she truly considered kicking the shit out of his shin. That would teach him to find amusement in her torment. The idea skittered out of her brain when he started to bend her over his lap.
"W-what are you doing?" Mortification warred with the devious thrill that kicked up in her middle.
"I'm about to give you the punishment I owe you. Lie across my lap, Theresa, and don't fight me or it will be worse."
She couldn't do it. With this one act, he would strip away a sizeable chunk of the self-preservation she had built since leaving him.
She wanted to do it. The need to obey him, to submit to his every command, burned her insides from nipples to pussy.
"Theresa, I did not make a request." His tone hardened, the authority settling in the air like a stone.
Tess let him guide her until she lay on her stomach across his thighs, arms bound behind her back, her ass exposed to his sight and his hand. She closed her eyes as he caressed first one cheek and then the other. She sucked in a breath of half fear and half anticipation as he slipped a finger beneath the thong that sliced between her cheeks.
"We're not going to discuss this punishment now," he told her, his voice thick with his own arousal. She could feel his cock, long and hard, inside his jeans, pressing at her side. "You know what it is for."
She did. She left him. A feat she didn't deserve to be punished for and yet couldn't find it in herself to protest the sentence he'd given her. Because as right as she had been to do what she did, the devil inside her wanted this, needed to be disciplined for her actions.
"You will take this punishment without argument and when I'm done, you will thank me. Do you understand?"
Thank him for punishing her? Not a chance in hell, pal. She nodded and heard the quiet "Yes" spill from her lips seemingly of its own accord.
The first hard slap to the tender flesh of her ass stung like a bitch. Tess inhaled sharply. The second didn't come immediately. Instead, Devon took a moment to palm the spot, soothing the burn and allowing the anticipation to build.
"Mmm, I've always loved the way your flesh turns such a fantastic shade of red when I spank it. You didn't do as you threatened, the all over tan you talked about getting. I'm glad. I might have been forced to punish you more if you had."
A second slap came on the heels of his last word, and her cheek exploded in a riot of vicious pleasure. The third smack landed on her other cheek quickly followed by a fourth. He'd always been thorough in making sure each side got equal attention. His fifth and six strikes came harder and faster, and her pussy gushed, her juices leaking from between her feminine lips.
She felt dizzy, her head spinning in a tilt-a-whirl of pain and pleasure. The lines between the two blurred beyond vision. That's when she lost count. He spanked her, working her tender flesh until her bottom flamed, her pussy convulsed, and the orgasm knocked on the walls of her sodden channel.
Almost there. The thought became a mantra in her mind as her release grew claws, climbing higher and higher. Almost there, almost there, almost….
"Theresa, are you about to come?" He stopped, the next blow so close, she could feel the warmth of his hand, but he didn't make the contact.
"Please." She squirmed on his lap, struggling to lift her buttocks to meet his hand, fighting to squeeze her legs together to offer a bit of pressure to her throbbing clit.
He slid his hand beneath her panties instead, pushing her legs apart to swipe a finger between her pussy lips. "Damn, Theresa, you're soaked, baby. I know you didn't come already."
"Not yet," Tess said through gritted teeth. "But if you'll give me another second, I will."
He laughed, and she considered biting his thigh since she dismissed the idea of kicking his shin earlier. He remained fully clothed, but she bet she could get in a good bite through the denim of his pant leg.
"Do you want to come, Theresa?"
He tsked. "Such feistiness should earn you more punishment, not pleasure. Although," he paused to circle his finger along the outer edge of her opening, "it feels as though punishment gives you pleasure, as well."
Tess said nothing at that. She couldn't. She didn't want to acknowledge the truth of that statement.
"Thank me now, Theresa."
Thank him? No. No way. "You aren't finished."
"I can be." Warning rang in the air from those three little words.
"No, please." He couldn't stop, couldn't leave her like this. She'd die from the torment.
"Then thank me for your punishment."
Tess gulped. She couldn't say it, wouldn't. Her lips parted, another argument on the tip of her tongue, but the two humiliatingly truthful words spewed out instead. "Thank you."
"How do you wish to be pleasured, my love?"