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View All Titles by Tonya Ramagos

REVIEWS for All or Nothing [The Heroes of Silver Springs 4]

5 Stars: "Four months ago, Bailey Lamont finally admitted she loves B Shift's Lieutenant on the Silver Spring's Fire Department, Tripp Barrett, and it changed their working relationship. Bailey hasn't told Tripp but she believes his worry for her safety caused the accident that left his doctors doubting Tripp would ever walk again if he managed to survive his injuries. Tripp surprised them all and his doctor just cleared him to return to work. Bailey's fierce determination to not work with Tripp could end their relationship. Tripp is determined he will have it all or nothing. All Or Nothing stands alone very well despite the whole story deals with the aftermath of events which all happened in the previous book. Now that Tripp will be returning to work as Lieutenant, the argument about Bailey changing shifts is heating to explosive proportions again. The sexual encounters between them are well written, very passionate and arousing. It is that 'reaffirming they are alive' and desperate kind of passion that is so very intimate and always intense, greedy and hot. Bailey's parents, the Captain of B Shift and some of the other firemen are secondary characters who are part of the action and also offer advice to help the lovers find their way. They keep the story moving at a brisk pace and help in an unexpected plot twist guaranteed to delight the reader. Don't miss this book just because you haven't read the earlier ones. All Or Nothing is a keeper in its own right." -- Karen Haas, Just Erotic Romance Reviews.

ADULT EXCERPT

Tripp kissed her and Bailey melted in his arms. Yes, this was what she wanted, what she needed. She let her fingers return to the waistband of his jeans, went back to fumbling with the button. Dammit! It shouldn't be so hard to unfasten. Finally, she gave up and simply slipped her hand inside his pants. She found his cock hard and ready and when she managed to wrap her fingers around his shaft, the sound he made was pure heaven. But his pants were too tight for her to explore the way she wanted to and she couldn't get to his cock, to stroke his shaft the way she wanted to in this position.

"Help me," she all but growled the words as she wrenched her mouth from his. "I can't get it undone."

He laughed. Laughed! Damn him. But instead of helping her, he caught her arm, pulling it from his pants. "I'll help but," he stopped and shook his head, "I'm trying to figure out how we're going to do this. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you. Your wrist…"

"I'll put it above my head," she said quickly. He released her arm and she went for the button of her own jeans instead. Wouldn't you know it? That button all but fell off in her fingers. Why wouldn't his do that? "You can even tie my fingers to the headboard if you want." She yanked on the zipper and wiggled her jeans down over her hips, let them fall to her ankles and stepped out of them.

"Bailey." He was laughing at her now. God, she loved the sound of his laughter. It was something else she needed right now, to keep this moment light, fun.

"I understand that you don't want to hurt me." She glanced down at the pullover SSFD uniform t-shirt she wore. Okay, how would she manage this one? "I assure you that not touching me, not making love to me, not unfastening your freaking jeans for me, so I can really feel you, is killing me. And while you're at it, you can help me figure out how I'm going to get out of this dammed shirt, short of ripping it to shreds."

Tripp reached for her again, this time taking her hand in his and pulling her toward the bedroom. His house was a one-bedroom loft, the bedroom at the top of a long hardwood staircase. He led her up those stairs, taking each step slowly, reminding her with each step of the injury to his back, of the brief conversation she'd heard between him and the captain back at the hospital.

He moved well these days, with rarely a limp of any kind, with or without his cane. Had she heard him right? Was he planning to return to the fire department?

The chilling sense of impending doom returned, threatening to kill the light, fun mood she'd attempted to put on this moment, but just as quickly, it fled as they reached the top of the stairs and Tripp walked her to the edge of his bed. He turned her to face him, his hands moving to her waist and inching their way up under her t-shirt, and she forgot all about conversations, about careers, about everything, except the amazing feel of his work-roughened hands on the smooth bare flesh of her sides, her rib cage, her breasts.

God, yes! When his hands cupped her breasts, she felt so giddy from the pleasure that she actually laughed. Her laughter lasted only seconds, though, because he pushed her bra and shirt above her breasts, leaned in, sucked one already taut nipple between his lips and, sweet baby Jesus, her knees went weak.

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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