The Heroes of Silver Springs, Volume 1 (MF, MFM)

The Heroes of Silver Springs

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 252,000
2 Ratings (4.5)

Box Set #44: The Heroes of Silver Springs, Volume 1 (All 4 books for $3.99)

In Caught off Guard, Fire Department Captain Dean Wolcott has reformed his old, wild boy ways and has become a respected member of the community. But even with all he has achieved, one thing is still missing—Veronica Abbott, the sweet girl who was always out of his league. When she returns, Dean is shocked in the best way at the woman she has become. Veronica is looking for an exciting future. Her new business provides some spark, but it’s the prospect of Dean Wolcott that really lights the fire inside her.

In Twin Games, someone doesn’t like that Angelina Keaton has inherited the Keaton Municipal Airport, but it will take more than fires and tampered planes for her to sell the family business. When the playful firefighter Jason Graham comes on the scene, he knows he’s found his perfect playmate, but the game is turning deadly. Jason’s brother Jackson, an FBI agent who prefers direct approaches and straightforward solutions, comes to help investigate and finds himself in a game between Jason and Veronica, one that he can’t resist playing, just this once.

In Stormy Nights, Navy SEAL turned firefighter Ryan Magee has no trouble convincing women to share his bed, until he meets Tina. The struggling single mother has more important things on her mind, but her resistance is tested when she and her son are forced to ride out a storm in Ryan’s home. But Ryan’s past catches up to him, endangering them all, and their time together may come to a grave end neither of them anticipated.

In All or Nothing, Bailey Lamont has finally moved on from her troubled past and finds herself in possession of the two things she wants most in life: a satisfying career and the heart of the man she loves. But Tripp Barrett’s hardheaded determination might be their undoing. When an injury threatens his firefighting career, he vows to regain the life he has built for himself. But will that be the life centered on his career or the one focused on Bailey? Can he have them both or will he have to choose?

A Siren Erotic Romance
Tonya Ramagos is a Siren-exclusive author.

Click on each cover for detailed blurbs, awards, ratings, excerpts, and reviews for each book in The Heroes of Silver Springs Collection, Volume 1.

Caught off Guard (MF) Twin Games (MFM) Stormy Nights (MF) All or Nothing (MF)

The Heroes of Silver Springs, Volume 1 (MF, MFM)
2 Ratings (4.5)

The Heroes of Silver Springs, Volume 1 (MF, MFM)

The Heroes of Silver Springs

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 252,000
2 Ratings (4.5)
In Bookshelf
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Les Byerley





 “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?"

"Yes, but—"

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.





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?





"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.





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.

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