Play With Fire (The Men of Fire #1) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Men of Fire Series by Sheridan Anne

Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 97631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

(The Men of Fire #1) Play With Fire

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Sheridan Anne

Book Information:

Single parenting can kiss my ass.
It’s go, go, go all the time. Two little faces to feed, two little bodies to keep from harm, and two little asses to keep clean. This was my life, and though it was hard as hell, we were making it work.
That is until the world’s cockiest man stalked me through the hardware store with his perfect dimples, wide shoulders, and the darkest eyes I’d ever seen. I was a goner.
Did I mention that he’s a fireman and has me burning up in more ways than one?
Insert walls here. No one will break them down, especially not him.

She’s an angel, it’s as simple as that. She wants to push me away, but I’m only just getting started.
Amelia DiGiorgio is my end game. She knows it, I know it, the whole damn town knows it. Only she’s just too stubborn to admit it.
If she thinks that she can get rid of me that easily, she’s got another thing coming.
Get ready, Angel; I’m coming for you, and I’m coming in hot.
The Men of Fire Rescue One is a steamy romance series with a HEA and NO CLIFFHANGERS. It contains sexual content and coarse language. The MOFRO series is planned to be a four-book series.
Books in Series:

The Men of Fire Series by Sheridan Anne

Books by Author:

Sheridan Anne



Every second Saturday.

I hate every second Saturday.

I hate it, my girls hate it, even the old bat down the road hates it, but he loves it. Not because he loves his kids, but because he lives to get under my skin. He knows the thought of my girls spending more time with him grates on my nerves, and that knowledge alone is enough to make him feel like the most powerful man on earth.

Well, fuck him. Fuck him and his little hooker girlfriend. They can go sit on a ten-foot pole and twist, though he’d probably like it.

Bryce Dallas is the bane of my existence. Out of all the cheating dead-beat, baby daddies out there, I just had to go and pick that rotten apple.

I let out a frustrated groan, just as I do every other second Saturday morning.

Why do I have to be such a good mother and let my babies spend quality time with their sperm donor? Oh yeah, because I’m a decent human being with stupid morals and the ridiculous need to do right by them. Damn him and damn me. I should just let him suffer and take them away from him just as he deserves. It’s not like he ever wanted them in the first place.

Shit. I can’t do that. A move like that would cost me too much. The prick would make me pay, and he’d use my babies to do it. Fucking bastard.

I grab my daughter’s OJ off the table and throw back what’s left of it before tossing the tumbler into the sink. I can worry about it later. Double-checking the time, I scrunch up my face. I better get going; otherwise, I’ll have to handle the bullshit that comes along with showing up late.

I stumble through the kitchen, stepping on a Lego, and muffling my cries to not scare my girls. My hand slams down on the kitchen counter to stabilize myself, only for it to slip in the spilled milk from Ryan’s cereal. I could have sworn I’d already wiped that up. “Oh, come on,” I groan, heading back over to the sink to grab a cloth. I mean, do I even have time to pee? I could just … No. I need to pee.

Holding the cloth up, I look down at Ryan who’s grinning right back at me. “She shoots …” I throw the cloth and watch it land right in the middle of the sink. “She scores.”

“Yay,” Ryan giggles, slapping her little hand across mine in a high five.

“Alright,” I say, taking her shoulders and making sure the little hurricane is really paying attention. “Where’s your sister?”

She shrugs her shoulders. Great. A quiet Coby is one thing, but a Coby that I can’t see is some next level, terrifying bullshit that I don’t even want to think about right now.

“Okay, baby, go find your bag. We’re going to go in a second.”

Ryan nods her head and dawdles off. Assuming she’s doing what I’ve asked, I rush for the bathroom, hoping I can get this done quickly. “Coby girl?” I call out. “Where are you?”

I close the bathroom door, hoping that calling for her is enough to entice her out of whatever hiding spot she’s squeezed herself into. I head for the toilet and let out a breath for this rare moment. I mean, I don’t even remember the last time I got to pee alone.

By the time I unbutton my jeans and sit my ass down, a howling cry comes from the bathroom door.


Damn it. I just need two minutes.

“I know, baby,” I call out. “Mommy’s nearly done.”



“Yes, sweet girl?”

“Coby crying.”

“I know,” I cringe, imagining Coby flat on the ground, losing her shit over not being in here right now. The door starts to wiggle. “No, no. I’m nearly done.”

“Coby crying,” Ryan repeats.

“She’s alright.”

“She wants you, Mommy.” The door wiggles some more. “Mommy?”

“I know. Just wait …” The door is ripped open. “Ughhh.” So close.

The sound of my baby’s high pitched, happy as shit squeal echoes from the bathroom door. Not a second later, I watch as she pulls herself up to her feet as though she’s drunk one too many bottles of milk and waddles into the bathroom. “Hey, Monster,” I sigh. “Mommy just needs to do a quick wee.”

She smiles up at me with those big eyes and those two little teeth poking out at the bottom, completely melting my heart. I give in. I was stupid to think I’d be able to pee alone. I must not have had enough caffeine this morning. My head clearly isn’t screwed on properly. Nonetheless, I get to business, hating how normal this is, but what can I do?

Ryan waltzes in behind her sister and goes straight for the cupboards, rifling through and knocking shit over like the little hurricane she is. “Ryan, no,” I groan as the packet of cotton tips tumbles off the shelf and goes everywhere. “Damn it.”