Out of Uniform Box Set
Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas
Elle Kennedy
Contents
Getting Hotter
Hotter Than Ever
As Hot As It Gets
Getting Hotter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Hotter Than Ever
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
A Little Bit of Hot
A Little Bit of Hot
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
As Hot as it Gets
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Hot Zone
Hot Zone
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Other Titles by Elle Kennedy
About the Author
Getting Hotter
A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy!
A good bad boy is hard to find…
Seth Masterson has been lusting over Miranda Breslin since the moment he saw her on a Vegas stage. Now that he’s been asked to watch out for her as she opens a dance studio in San Diego, he’s all over it, figuring it’s his chance to get her in his bed. Except the stubborn single mom seems determined to deny their sizzling sexual chemistry. In typical SEAL fashion, Seth makes it his personal mission to prove her wrong.
Miranda got over her attraction to bad boys about the time one of them knocked her up at the age of eighteen. Seth’s mocking gray eyes and military-buff bod, though, are pure and utter temptation. And when a flooded apartment forces her and her twins to move in with him, she can no longer resist the urge to set off some serious fireworks between the sheets.
But any involvement with Seth will be strictly physical—and temporary. So when Seth decides permanent is what he wants, Miranda must steel her defenses before she does something incredibly foolish…like fall in love.
Warning: This book contains a bad boy SEAL who knows what he wants and will go to any lengths to get it. Expect graphic language, hot sex, seduction, hot sex, dirty talk, hot sex, a little man-on-man action. Oh, and hot sex.
Hotter Than Ever
A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy!
Three is most definitely not a crowd…
Claire McKinley has just experienced every bride’s nightmare: the groom is a no-show, and now she must face five hundred guests alone. Furious and humiliated, she seeks help from the most unlikely candidate—her almost-brother-in-law, who promptly whisks her away to his apartment in San Diego, where she can recover her pride in peace and quiet.
Dylan Wade is no fan of Claire’s, but he can’t ignore the jilted bride in her time of need. Bringing her home seems like a good idea—until he remembers his new roommate. Dylan’s relationship with Aidan Rhodes is…complicated. And with Claire thrown into the mix, life becomes even more…complicated.
Claire is blindsided by her attraction not only to Dylan, but also to Aidan, a man she’s just met. Soon they’re caught up in an all-consuming sexual storm they can’t fight even if they wanted to. But when their hearts get involved, Claire wonders if it can last, or if she’s just setting herself up for more heartache.
Warning: This book is very dirty. Ménage a trois and man-on-man dirty. Graphic language and explicit sex dirty. Basically? Dirty. You’ve been warned.
As Hot As It Gets
A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy!
Sea, air, land, the bedroom...this SEAL is always in command.
After watching his teammates settle down one by one, Navy SEAL Jackson Ramsey is ready to say goodbye to the single life. He’s met a woman who intrigues him, challenges him, and turns him right on—Mia Weldrick, the funny, beautiful gardener he can’t wait to get to know better. Problem is, Mia isn’t interested in dating him, which means it’s time for Jackson to unleash his Texas charm and do some serious wooing.
With a teenage brother to raise, two jobs, and, frankly, a complete disinterest in sex, Mia has no room in her busy life for a six-foot-five SEAL with a naughty streak a mile wide. But one hot kiss from Jackson has her imagining all the dirty ways she could fit him in.
It isn’t long before their no-strings fling transforms into something more. As desire unearths emotions and deeply buried secrets, Mia has to decide whether to give love a chance to grow, or let it slip it away.
Warning: This Southern gentleman is wickedly ungentlemanly in the bedroom. Spanking, voyeurism, and other surprises await you in this last and dirtiest Out of Uniform installment.
Getting Hotter
Out of Uniform
1
“C’mon, girl, don’t be hatin’. Just gimme your digits. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Miranda Breslin slammed a bottle of Coors on the counter and flashed a polite smile at the very young, very cocky guy who’d been hitting on her for the past twenty minutes. “Sorry, not interested,” she shouted over the techno beat blaring out of the club’s speakers.
Her persistent suitor rested his elbows on the counter and leaned in close. “Aw, don’t be like that, girl.”
Thanks to the seizure-inducing strobe lights zigging and zagging from every direction, she could only make out bits and pieces of the guy’s appearance—shaved head, impressive body. But great abs aside, the guy couldn’t have been a day older than twenty-one, and his vocabulary was abysmal. Her six-year-old twins spoke more eloquently than this dude.
“Enjoy the rest of your night,” she said. And then she promptly extricated herself from the situation, untying her short black apron as she moved away.
She was due for a break, but when she saw the crowd gathered at the other end of the counter, she stifl
ed a groan. Alex, the other bartender on duty, clearly had his hands full with a group of inebriated women decked out in shiny clubbing outfits.
When he noticed her retying her apron, he gave a firm shake of the head. “I’ve got this, hon!” he yelled over the deafening music. “Take your break!”
Sidling up to him, she moved her lips close to his ear. “You sure you can handle this rush?”
Alex gestured for her to go, his unruffled expression telling her he’d be fine. No surprise—absolutely nothing fazed the guy. She’d only been working at OMG for four months, not long enough to get overly chummy with any of the other bartenders, but she did have a soft spot for Alex, with his spiky blond hair and perpetual laugher.
Rounding the counter, she stepped into the throng of bodies filling every square inch of the dark nightclub. There was a small employee break room past the restrooms, but getting there required some effort. Since it was Friday night, the club was packed, and she had to push and wiggle her way through the crowd like she was playing an annoying game of Twister. By the time she made it to the back, she was sweaty, annoyed and reeking of the awful cologne one of the men out there must have bathed in.
She’d just neared the break room when someone grabbed her from behind.
“Where you rushing off to, girl? I thought we were connecting.”
Miranda’s shoulders stiffened. She slapped the intrusive hand off her arm and turned to scowl at the guy from the bar. “I told you, I’m not interested.”
“But I am,” he protested, the glazed look in his eyes leaving nothing ambiguous about his level of sobriety.
His gaze rested on the cleavage spilling from her low-cut red tank, then traveled down the length of her legs, bare beneath her black miniskirt. The tank-skirt combo was her “uniform”, and as the guy leered at her, she mentally composed a letter to the club’s owner stating all the reasons why female employees should not be asked to dress like ho-bags.
“C’mon, just gimme your digits,” he pleaded.
Jeez, again with the digits? This kid was relentless. Might be time to dust off the old Erin Brockovich speech.
“Look,” she said through clenched teeth, “I’m not—”
A raspy male voice cut in. “Beat it, buddy.”
One second the flirty kid was in front of her, the next he was gone, scurrying away like he was being chased by the cops.
Miranda didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. While other women might have been overflowing with gratitude, she was just mildly irritated.
“I’m not going to say thank you,” she grumbled. “I already told you I can take care of myself.”
Seth Masterson stepped into view, his metallic gray eyes filled with the mocking glint she’d come to expect. “I know you can.”
She arched her brows. “Yeah? So then why’d you interfere?”
He shrugged. “My way got rid of that moron quicker.”
Despite herself, Miranda found it hard not to laugh. Yep, Seth’s “way” was extremely efficient. All he had to do was level some poor dude with that lethal stare of his, and—poof—the unwanted admirer disappeared. Seth had been pulling this same magician’s act for more than three months now, scaring off any man who dared to flirt with her. What started out as a quick stop-by a couple times a week, just to “check how she was doing”, had become almost a nightly routine.
Now when she worked a shift, she was surprised if Seth didn’t show up.
Any other woman might have swooned from all the attention, but Miranda wasn’t one of them. Having her own personal bouncer was more aggravating than comforting. Nope, Seth Masterson didn’t provide her with even an ounce of comfort. If anything, he achieved the opposite effect, unsettling her with his commanding presence. He had bad boy radiating from every sexy, muscular inch of him, from the perpetual beard growth on his face, to his scruffy dark hair, to the piercing gray eyes that were forever undressing her.
“Like I said, I could’ve handled it. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for my dinner break.” She brushed past him and strode into the break room.
Seth, of course, followed her right in. One thing she’d discovered about him? He didn’t play by any rules, a trait she found ironic considering he was in the military, where rules were a way of life.
Sighing, she walked over to the small fridge across the room. She grabbed a bottle of water, uncapped it, and chugged half as she headed for the ratty plaid couch that had seen better days.
Seth lingered near the door, watching her with disapproval. “Dinner is a bottle of water?”
“Dinner was fish sticks and French fries three hours ago. I won’t be hungry for a couple more hours.” She stretched out her legs and stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling, letting out an aggravated breath. “Why do you keep coming by, Seth? You don’t need to check up on me every frickin’ night.”
“I’m not here to check up on you.”
“Oh really? So Missy called off her guard dog?”
“Nope. Mom’s still insisting I keep an eye on you.”
She held back a groan. She loved her former boss to death, but Missy Masterson, God bless her soul, had no idea what she’d unleashed when she’d asked her son to keep tabs on Miranda.
At first, she’d appreciated the gesture—the move from Vegas to San Diego had been jarring, and it was always difficult to adapt to a new city, especially when you didn’t know a single person there. But now that she was more settled, she no longer needed Seth Masterson to hold her hand.
In fact, that was the last thing she wanted. Because another discovery she’d made about the man? When he touched her, she turned into a pile of hot, gooey mush.
“Well, tell Missy that while I appreciate everything she’s done, I’m doing just fine.”
Miranda took another sip of water, then set the bottle on the table by the couch and bent down to unlace her black sneakers. The club owner might demand the female staff display whatever T&A they could, but he didn’t begrudge them comfortable footwear. Still, she’d only been tending bar for three hours and already her feet were killing her.
As she kicked off her shoes and began to massage her right foot, she saw Seth’s gray eyes following the movements of her hands. His expression took on that smoldering gleam, and then he left his perch by the door and approached the couch. His strides were long, predatory.
“Not doing as fine as you claim, huh?” he taunted.
She rolled her eyes. “My feet hurt. My life, on the other hand, is just fine.”
The couch cushions bounced as he flopped down beside her. Instantly, the familiar scent of him wafted in her direction. Aftershave, a hint of pine and the faint traces of smoke. Of course he was a smoker. A bad boy had to have his vices, after all.
She dug her thumbs into the arch of her foot, knowing the ache in her feet didn’t bode well for the rest of the night. She had four hours left in her shift. Four hours of running up and down that bar catering to the Friday-night crowds. And tomorrow she’d be in the dance studio from morning until late afternoon. Her poor feet were definitely going to revolt if she kept this up.
“What’s wrong?”
Seth’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over, frowning. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You just groaned. A weary, life-sucks-ass type of groan.”
She blinked. “I did?” When he nodded in confirmation, she let out a sigh. “I was just thinking how I have to be at the studio at ten in the morning tomorrow and how much my feet are going to hate me for it. Tending bar all night and then standing en pointe all day is no piece of cake.”
“No, I imagine it isn’t.”
He sounded genuine, not a hint of condescension in his voice, and Miranda’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re not going to roll your eyes and tell me I know nothing about real pain? You know, ’cause I’m not a badass SEAL like you?”
“Trust me, babe, I’ve got nothing but the utmost admiration for dancers. Once when I was
a kid, I sat there watching my mom soak her feet after three back-to-back performances.” Seth blanched. “The way her feet looked is comparable to any battle wound I’ve come across.”
Miranda burst out laughing. She didn’t doubt it. People often had an idealistic view of dancers as beautiful, magical creatures, but one look at a dancer’s feet and that bubble of perfection was liable to burst. Calluses, blisters, cracked toenails, red, flaking skin…frankly, it was just plain gross.
For a moment it surprised her that Seth knew what actually lay behind the curtain, until she remembered that he’d pretty much grown up backstage at the iconic Paradise Theater on the Vegas Strip. His mother had been the star of the show for twenty years before retiring, and now worked as the head choreographer. Missy also happened to be Miranda’s mentor and staunchest supporter; for a girl who’d grown up without a mom, Miranda had been utterly grateful to have someone like Missy in her life. After Miranda’s grandmother died and left her a small inheritance, Missy was the one who encouraged her to buy the dance school in San Diego, and it was the best decision she’d ever made.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 1
