Caught Off Guard

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Caught Off Guard Page 4

by Ramagos, Tonya


  “You’re opening the store on Main Street

  , right?” the woman standing behind Shannon asked. “I’m Bailey Lamont, by the way.”

  Veronica was surprised to see that Bailey wore the same uniform of a navy blue T-shirt and jeans as the guys. A firefighter, too, no doubt, and Veronica felt a surge of pride that a female was a member of the Silver Springs Fire Department. But this particular female looked nothing like what she would have thought a female firefighter would look like. Veronica would have expected an Amazon type woman, excessively tall and overly built with harsh features and choppy hair.

  That description was so far from Bailey Lamont it was almost comical. An Amazon, the woman definitely was not. She was shorter than Veronica by two or three inches. And her build was certainly not over done but more feminine, curvaceous, muscular, and slim. She could easily fit into a size seven. Though she wore no make-up, her features were soft and shown with a natural beauty, her chestnut hair long and pulled into a ponytail.

  “We open on Saturday.” Veronica nodded in confirmation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there were any women on the department.”

  “She’s a probie,” Magee said dismissively.

  “A probie?” Veronica asked, her gaze dancing between the two firefighters.

  It was Bailey who answered, “Probationary firefighter. I’m the new kid on the block.”

  “I see. Well, I brought this.” Veronica held up the basket. “As a small token of thanks for putting out the fire at my parents’ house. It’s just a few things from the stock in my store, but I geared it more toward men, because I didn’t realize…If you would like to swing in the store after we open sometime, I’ll make a special basket for you.”

  “That isn’t necessary, but thank you,” Bailey said with a genuine smile that made her even prettier.

  “Lamont isn’t very feminine anyway,” Magee said, taking the basket from Veronica’s hands. “She’ll probably get more use out of this stuff than we will.”

  “Knock it off, Magee,” a male voice ordered from behind Veronica.

  She spun around, saw that another man had entered the room. It wasn’t Dean. Was he even here? She wished she had thought to call first. Bringing the thank you basket had been the perfect excuse for her visit, but if the man she wanted to see wasn’t even there…

  “Tripp Barrett. And ignore him,” he said with a slight nod at Magee. “He’s chapped because Lamont won’t go to bed with him.”

  His bluntness surprised Veronica, and she shot a glance at Magee who simply shrugged, then at Lamont who grinned from ear to ear. Yeah, it was easy to see why Magee was angry at being turned down by that woman. Not that Veronica could see exactly why Bailey had turned the man down. He may not have sent sparks though her own body with a touch—probably only because he wasn’t Dean Wolcott, she figured—but he was dammed sure one hot bed of perfection.

  “We appreciate the gift,” Barrett continued kindly. “It isn’t often you get thanked in this line of work.”

  And that, too, surprised Veronica. These men—and woman—risked their lives to save others and their possessions, and yet they didn’t get the thanks and recognition they deserved. What kind of world were they living in?

  “Dean was there that night, too,” Shannon said. “Dean Wolcott. You remember him, don’t you? He’s our captain.”

  Finally, an open door to the information she wanted. Veronica lunged through it. “Is he here?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll take you to him.” Shannon was out of his seat and through the door before Veronica could blink. She followed him down the hall.

  “Shannon, wait,” Barrett said and hurried after them.

  “Hey, Captain,” Shannon said loudly as he stepped through a door halfway down the hall. “You have a—”

  “The Captain isn’t—” Barrett said and halted behind them in the doorway.

  Veronica was stuck between the two men just inside what appeared to be a locker room. She heard Shannon say, “visitor,” at the same time Barrett said, “dressed,” and her gaze locked with a pair of eyes over Shannon’s shoulder. They were eyes as green as the leaves on a tree in the middle of the summer, eyes she instantly recognized, eyes that had been designed to make a female buckle at the knees. She managed to hold herself upright. When Shannon shifted in front of her and she caught a glimpse of a white towel and nothing else but deep tanned skin, she nearly melted to the floor.

  “Whoa, Captain,” Shannon said and reached behind him, blindly grabbing Veronica by the waist and attempting to shield her with his body. It was pointless, of course, because she was taller than him by a full inch, and even if she hadn’t been, she had no intentions of missing this sight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “It’s my fault, Dean,” she said and freed herself from Shannon’s hold. She stepped around him, moved further into the room. Her pulse pounded loudly in her ears, and her knees felt like jelly, but there was no way she was going to bolt now. “I asked to see you.” She stopped, raked her eyes down his nearly naked body from head to toe, and felt completely inspired, wickedly aroused, and ready to fuck. “Though, I must admit I didn’t expect to get to see so much of you.”

  * * * *

  “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 becau.se 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.

  “Lac
y 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?"

  "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. The sight very nearly had his dick growing hard again.

  “Wow! You truly are a goddess,” he whispered.

  “Hey, Captain,” Magee’s voice sounded outside the door of the locker room. “The mayor is on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Shit!” Dean shoved a hand though his hair and said a few more choice words under his breath. “Of all the lousy, timing…” He looked at Veronica expecting to see her angry or at the very least disappointed, but she smiled.

  “Sounds like you have business to take care of,” she said and rose to her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his cheek. “My store opens on Saturday. Try to swing by if you can.” Then she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him to stare after her completely stunned, speechless, spent, and wanting more.

  * * * *

  “Are you getting nervous yet?”

  “Not a bit,” Veronica answered on impulse, but to her surprise, she found it true. She would be opening the doors of the store for its first day of business in less than an hour, and she wasn’t the least bit nervous. That’s what worried her. “Why am I not nervous?” she asked, turning to Lacy. “I should be. I should be climbing the walls right about now. Or running around the store like a crazy woman. But I’m not. I’m calm. I’m cool. I’m ready.”

  “You’re confident,” Judy said. She placed her hands on the checkout counter behind her and pulled herself up to sit on top. She was twenty-three, her dark brown hair cut in a pixie style that suited her oval shaped face and large greenish-blue eyes. She wore jeans—Veronica hadn’t seen the girl wear anything else—and a sunflower yellow blouse that hinted at her slim waistline.

  I’m glad I hired her , Veronica thought, not for the first time. She hadn’t intended on hiring an employee. The store would be open six days a week from 10 am until 9 pm, and though they were long hours for one person, she had fully intended to handle them herself. She planned to wait until she was sure the store would do well, that the hours she set worked, that the revenue she took in could handle paying out a salary, before she even thought about bringing in someone else to work.

  Then Judy had come knocking, and if the girl was anything she was certainly persuasive. She was double majoring in Fashion Marketing Technology and Fashion Design at the local community college with dreams of one day having her own line of erotic women’s fashion. In the two weeks since Veronica hired her, she had proven herself to be a hard worker, dependable, and chalked full of ideas. She was also very outgoing, and Veronica knew she would be good with the customers.

  “I just hope I’m not being overly confident,” Veronica said on a sigh. “Everything is in place? We haven’t overlooked anything?”

  “Everything is perfect.” Judy nodded. “All we need are the customers.”

  The customers. What if no one came? The question should hav
e had her stomach in knots, but it didn’t. Something was way wrong with her. She didn't have any of the reactions she should be having at this very moment. She had worked so hard—they had worked so hard—in the past weeks getting the store in tip-top shape for this day. Having a perfect store meant nothing without customers.

  “Here, have another cup of coffee,” Lacy said, handing Veronica a cup of the expensive French roast she brought with her this morning. “You want to climb the walls, you need more caffeine.”

  Veronica laughed. “I didn’t say I wanted to climb the walls.” She took a sip anyway. It was strong and hot, and the description had her thinking of Dean Wolcott, which made her mouth water for something way different than coffee. She hadn’t seen him since her visit to the station on Wednesday, since she sucked him until he came in her mouth.

  She knew she had taken him completely by surprise. Heck, she had taken herself by surprise. She wasn’t sure what she intended to say to him that day, but she certainly hadn’t intended to suck his dick. She wanted to flirt with him a bit, let him know she was interested. Well, she definitely did that, she thought and stifled a laugh.

  She had never done something so spontaneous, so brazen in her life. She wasn’t even sure what came over her. She had been standing there looking at him, flirting with him as she intended to do and then she touched him, the rest, as it went, was history.

  Not that she regretted her actions. She would do it all over again in a heartbeat. His hard, muscular body had felt so wonderful beneath her hands, and the taste of him, thick and hot and sweet, stayed with her long after she left the station. Would he come by the store today as she asked him to? God, she hoped so.

  “I want to climb the walls,” Lacy muttered softly, gazing down into her cup of coffee. “But I want a man to make me do it. Not this garbage.” She frowned, lifting her cup.

 

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