Safe and SEALed with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tonya Ramagos

  His smile stretched wider. “Yeah, I do. Kenneth Winters informed me of your visit and asked that I stand in to welcome you to the island. He wanted to be here himself, but got held up in town.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment twisted in her belly and she ruthlessly squashed it. So what if he had been here waiting for her on orders from his boss? That was better than him spotting her and wanting to say hello for an entirely different, definitely salacious reason, wasn’t it? She was here on a mission, to offer her support and use her popularity to gain positive publicity for the island. At the same time, she was here in hopes of finding a sense of safety for herself, praying her stalker would use her absence from the mainland as the time he needed to find a new hobby like her father had said. She wasn’t here to jump between the sheets with the first man she met on the island, even if said man had been invading her dreams for the last four years.

  John released her hand. “He said to extend his sincerest apologies and to show you around the island.”

  Yep, no doubt about it. John Cabelly was doing his island duty. She and all her girly parts were safe, at least from him. Especially seeing as how he thought she didn’t remember him in the first place.

  “Thank you, Sheriff Cabelly, but a tour guide really won’t be necessary. I’m sure I can find my way around and I’d hate to keep you from your job.”

  He pulled off his sunglasses and she got her first real look at the potent light blue eyes she’d remembered so well. The mere sight made her heart skip a beat and her mind retracted her earlier thought. No, all her girly parts were not safe from this man. They were in danger of serious lusty overload, whether she and John went their separate ways right now or not.

  Those powerful light blue eyes steadied on hers and his lips thinned, his expression turning serious with a trace of molten heat that sent embers of need raining through her body. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  “You’re not an easy man to forget.” The words spilled from Lara’s lips before she could stop them. Shit. She should’ve said no. She’d meant to say no. If he’d kept on his sunglasses, she might could’ve pulled it off. But, the second he’d removed them, the instant she’d looked into his eyes, she’d felt herself fall under his spell.

  His lips unfolded in their sexiest smile yet. It was the kind of grin that dripped with victory and promise and pure male satisfaction. “That’s good to know because I damn sure never forgot you.”

  Oh, holy hormones. The way his voice softened, turning his words husky and hot, told her he wasn’t merely performing his island duty any longer. He was hitting on her and she was so screwed.

  * * * *

  John held Lara’s gaze, watched a dart of surprise shoot through the desire in her eyes, and Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” started to play in his mind. The lyrics didn’t really fit the situation, but it was the one song that always sprang to his thoughts when he faced a certain victory. As he continued to stare into her green eyes, he knew with an absolute certainty he was raising up straight to the top.

  Okay, so maybe the lyrics fit after all. He thought about the next line to the song, but lost it when his gaze dropped to her mouth just as her tongue peeked from between her lips. His focus followed the path her tongue took as she dragged it along her bottom lip and his cock flexed in his cargo shorts.

  Geezus, the woman was spectacular. She’d nearly had him fooled, too. Not that he’d missed the way she’d seemed to sip him in like a warm shot of bourbon as he’d approached her or the swirls of obvious attraction in her eyes as she stared up at him. She’d tried to hide it and had done a pretty damn good job, too, right up until the moment she’d admitted she’d never forgotten him.

  Score! John wrenched his attention from her mouth and settled it back on her eyes. He knew how to read women and knew the eyes were the windows to the soul. Hers were in turmoil. She wanted him, but she was holding herself in check. He liked that. A woman who fell into his bed too easily didn’t stay and, while in his bed was precisely where he wanted her to fall, he intended to see she stayed there for a very, very long time.

  She blinked and closed her lips. He watched in absolute fascination as she gathered her wits and masterfully tamped down the heat in her eyes. “I guess it’s true what they say about it being a small world. So, you’re the sheriff on the island. That’s quite a change from being a US Navy SEAL, isn’t it?”

  John replaced his sunglasses over his eyes, reached for the luggage she’d set on either side of her feet, and caught a whiff of an exotic floral scent that went straight to his already painfully stiff cock. “It’s different,” he answered as he straightened with her bags in his hands.

  She flattened a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun as she looked up at him. “I can carry those.”

  “So can I.”

  The corners of her lips twitched. “Obviously. However, since it appears you’re intent on playing tour guide, you can’t point out the sights we pass on the way to wherever it is you’re leading me with both hands full.”

  Where he wanted to lead her was straight to his place, but he figured he should hold off on that for a bit. The cottage Kenneth Winters intended for her to stay in was close enough. He let her take possession of the lighter of the two bags and moved beside her. “They sell sunglasses in the Welcome Center. Do you want to swing in there first and get you a pair?”

  “I have some in my purse.” She started walking and John fell into step next to her. “I like seeing things without the shade of sunglasses. It gives me a clearer view of my surroundings.”

  John glanced at her and decided he’d had all the clearer view of her he could take for now if he intended to play the good little tour guide and keep his hands off her amazing body.

  “You should probably take the lead. I don’t have a clue where I’m going.”

  John chuckled and pointed to the lightly crowded sidewalk. “I left my patrol car at the station. Most of the islanders have cars, though they rarely drive them unless they’re headed to the mainland. There’s another boat that ferries those with cars who work on the mainland back and forth.”

  Lara glanced at him as they walked, weaving now and then around other pedestrians. “Are there a lot of islanders who work on the mainland?”

  “A few, but most of us who live here work here and rarely leave.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her angle her head, both of her perfectly plucked brows winging up in surprise.

  “And you don’t get island fever or whatever you’d call it?”

  John had expected to. He’d figured he’d be on the island less than a month before he’d be ready to swim to shore if he had to. He’d been here for nearly a year and had only ventured to the mainland when it had been absolutely necessary.

  He chuckled. “Not so far.” More out of reflex than thought, he caught her elbow and steered her to the right when the sidewalk curved around a corner onto the main island street. He felt her elbow jerk at the contact, heard her quick intake of breath, and saw her attention drop to his hand.

  Playing it cool despite the sizzling heat that ignited in his hand and followed a flaming path straight to his balls, he let go of her elbow and pointed to the shops they passed. “This is what we call the main drag.” He gestured to his right. “On this side, there’s clothing, souvenir, and sandwich shops. There’s also a drugstore, a bookstore, and a couple of novelty shops.” He tipped his chin across the street. “That’s business offices over there. Health clinic, dentist office, and other practices.”

  “And the sheriff’s department,” Lara said, obviously spotting the tan building on the far end of the street with the two cruisers parked along the sidewalk.

  “With the attached firehouse,” he added. “The building beyond that is what we call the Island Hall.”

  Lara shot him an amused smile. “As opposed to the City Hall of most places? Is it complete with a courtroom and all that jazz?”

  “There is a small courtroom, though I’m happy
to say it’s done nothing but collect dust so far.” Even through the dark tint of his sunglasses, John didn’t miss the mischief that sparked in her eyes.

  “With Sheriff Cabelly on duty, no one dares to step over the line of the law, huh?”

  He stopped walking when they reached the sidewalk across from the department, looked both ways though there wasn’t a moving car in sight, and stepped into the street. The hand he splayed on the small of her back was completely thought out and fully intentional this time. Though he felt a slight shiver move through her, he didn’t hear her take a quick breath at the contact, nor did she look at him as if he’d lost his mind. It was almost as if she’d been expecting him to touch her again.

  Good. He wanted her to get used to his touch. A casual grip of her elbow, a tender placement of his hand near her waist…he didn’t have a problem starting out subtle before he caressed every inch of her satiny flesh.

  “No one is perfect all the time,” he told her as he led her across the street. “We have our share of drunk and disorderlys, public nudity, a fight now and then, and protesters who manage to make it to the island despite our security. Nothing a night in the cell hasn’t fixed so far.”

  Their feet hit the sidewalk outside the department and she flattened a hand over her eyes as she tipped her head back to study the building before looking at him. “Did you bring me over here thinking I should start off my stay on the island by spending the night in that cell?”

  John pursed his lips and pretended to think about that. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to use his hand on the small of her back to reel her in against him. Instead, he let his hand slowly drop, not wanting to stir up the island grapevine with gossip about the two of them just yet.

  “I guess that all depends. Are you going to be a good girl while you’re on my island or are you going to make me use the strong arm of the law on you?” He didn’t mean for the last part of his question to come out the way it sounded, but the whip of heat that flashed through her expression turned his words into one hell of a double entendre. That whip slashed at his cock and balls, leaving them stinging even as his mind took a fast trip to domination land.

  “I suppose that all depends on how you define a good girl.” She turned to face him, pure mischief glinting in her eyes. “My simply being on the island is going to draw attention. It’s going to make a splash. One that I thoroughly intend to use to put on a positive spin for the sake of the island. You, of all residents, should know the shit storm the liberalness of this island has caused on the mainland.”

  John didn’t see how making the island’s views even more public would do anything in the way of diminishing that shit storm, but it had gotten his fantasy woman on his turf, so who the hell was he to argue. “In other words, what you’re telling me is you plan to keep me on my toes.”

  * * * *

  Lara would rather keep him on his back, naked beneath her while she rode his cock until they both forgot they were even on the island. She might have started thinking her way right through the door of confusions-r-us back at the docks but, the second she’d realized the attraction between them was mutual, that he hadn’t forgotten about her anymore than she’d forgotten about him, all her uncertainties had swam for deep water.

  She waggled her brows and shot him a playfully seductive smile. “You bet I plan to keep you on your toes, Sheriff. I might even have to see just how strong that arm of the law of yours is, too.” She spun away from him before he could comment, but could’ve sworn she heard him grunt as if the idea of her words had delivered him some sort of torture. “So, are you going to take me on a tour of your department or are we just going to stand outside it and talk all day?”

  John chuckled. “There’s not all that much to see inside, but we can go in if you want. My intent in bringing you here wasn’t to take the tour indoors or to put you in a cell for the night. I thought we’d grab the cart over there and ride it to the house Kenneth has reserved for you rather than continuing to lug your bags all over the island.”

  Lara turned back to him and cooed. “Aww, did I pack too much for the beefy SEAL to carry?”

  She’d never admit her arm was aching. The idea of offloading the bag she carried sounded like a slice of heaven right about now. She’d packed light, or at least she’d tried to. She’d managed to stuff everything she’d thought she would need into two suitcases. Stuff, however, was definitely the key word. She’d had to sit on the bag he carried just to close it. As for the one in her hand, it truly wasn’t much lighter.

  “It’s beefy sheriff now,” he corrected, “and, if you want to keep walking, it’s no strain on my muscles.”

  No, it wasn’t. Lara let her gaze slide down his arm. The corded muscles in his bicep and forearm flexed as he shifted his stance, but he was obviously carrying the bag with ease. Strong arm of the law indeed. Her waist tingled at the thought of him wrapping that arm around her, pulling her against the hard wall of his body, and…

  “If there’s room for three on that golf cart, I’d like to tag along.”

  Lara’s thoughts skittered to a halt at the sound of the male voice coming up behind her. The interruption was probably a good thing considering where her overloaded hormones had been taking her. Except, holy moley, she knew that voice. Soft and dripping with sweetness, it was the voice that had been speaking to her in her fantasies for four long years, the voice she remembered far too well from that long ago night when she’d been rescued from Veng Kim Phay’s compound.

  Her gaze slammed back to John’s and she found him looking past her, a mix of surprise and irritation in his eyes. The muscle in his jaw jumped once before his lips spread in a wide smile.

  “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “The water, like everybody else on this island.”

  “Touché, shithead.” John didn’t laugh, but Lara caught the hint of amusement in his voice.

  Brandon “Ace” McCormick didn’t touch her as he walked up and stopped right next to her, but he might as well have. Lara felt the effects of his presence explode through her system as if he’d dragged a caressing hand down every inch of her bare flesh. Her heart raced, desires already awakened by John morphing to intense needs as she looked at the second man who’d monopolized her most wicked fantasies since the moment she’d gazed into his intense hazel eyes.

  He hadn’t changed much. His blondish-brown hair was longer than she remembered, falling in a straight curtain around his Brad Pitt–worthy face and nearly brushing his broad shoulders. His hazel gaze landed on her, and his too-kissable lips unfolded in a killer grin of pure sex appeal. Unlike John had done, Brandon didn’t wait to see if she recognized him.

  “Lara, it’s so good to see you again.”

  “It’s good to—” See you, too, she started to say, but the words got caught in her throat when he snaked a corded arm around her waist and pulled her against his solid body for a hug.

  The suitcase she’d been holding slipped from her fingers as sensations clambered through her body. His familiar, musky scent surrounded her, sending her head racing with ecstasy. Moist little tugs of arousal stirred in her pussy, making her acutely aware of every place their bodies touched.

  Reflex more than thought compelled her hands to wind around his neck as their cheeks met. His shorter height put all his solid parts in nearly perfect alignment with her much softer ones. Her breasts pressed into the sculpted muscles of his chest. Her flat belly rested against his. But it was the thick wedge of his cock lovingly molded by the denim of his blue jean shorts she felt stretching between their groins that really created a riot with her hormones.

  “Tell me you’re not in trouble already.” Brandon’s eyes sparked with amusement as he leaned back to gaze at her.

  Trouble? Hell, yes, she was in trouble with a capital T. She unwound her arms from his neck, needing to put distance between them if she had a chance of thinking about anything beyond getting that hard rod of male splendor inside her aching pus
sy.

  She frowned, hoping neither of them could see the sexual turmoil being near both of them had created in her system. “Just because you guys rescued me once doesn’t mean I’m always a damsel in distress. I don’t stay in trouble, you know?”

  The men exchanged far-too-knowing glances and she gave up. Of course they would know about the time she’d been arrested outside the abortion clinic. She hadn’t been the one to cause the scene. She’d merely been showing her support for the group that did. That had really pissed off the men her father had sent to protect her, the ones he’d employed to be sure her actions stayed free from negative press.

  Then there was the time the media had made a stink about her involvement in security on university campuses. A madman had gotten onto a university campus with a gun and opened fire in the library. There had been one fatality and five injuries as a result of that shooting. No babysitter her father had assigned to her could’ve kept her from being pounded by the media on that one.

  They don’t know about Harold Taggart either.

  No, and telling them now would definitely not substantiate her denial of always being a damsel in distress or staying in trouble. Besides, for once, she didn’t want men watching over her every move. She didn’t want men hanging at her side with only the goal of dispassionate protection in mind.

  She narrowed her eyes at Brandon and changed the subject. “I didn’t see you on the excursion boat. What did you do, Super SEAL, swim to shore? And, shouldn’t you be overseas somewhere taking down bad guys instead of here giving me a hard time?” She glanced at John and deemed by the expression on his face that he was wondering the same things. “Or did you leave the SEALs, too?”

  “I’m on furlough.” He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his shorts, drawing her attention once again to the impressive package between his legs. “I spent the night in Silver Springs with an old friend, borrowed his boat, and rented a space at the private docks on the other side of the island.” He shifted his attention to John. “I tried to call and give you a heads up, but you didn’t answer.”