Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas

by Kennedy, Elle

  “You’re a traitor,” she mumbled.

  “Nope, just a woman who doesn’t think sex needs to be complicated.”

  The sound of footsteps captured Claire’s attention. A moment later, she heard male voices wafting from the other side of the apartment.

  “Great, Dylan’s home,” she said gloomily. “Now they’ll gang up on me again.”

  Natasha let out a delighted laugh. “Let them.”

  She heard more footsteps, closer this time, then a low male chuckle that had definitely come from Aidan. She tensed, expecting a knock, but the men walked right past her door. A few seconds later, there was a loud clatter followed by a thump, as if something had been knocked over in the other room.

  She frowned. “Nat, I have to go. I just heard a noise and I want to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “No prob. Make sure to text me after the threesome, ’kay?”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “I’m serious. I’m going to want all the deets.”

  Claire rolled her eyes and said goodbye, then left the bedroom and headed toward Aidan’s room. The door was ajar, which meant she had no problem hearing the male groan that rang out from within.

  She froze in place. That hadn’t sounded like a groan of pain…at least not the kind of pain incurred by an injury.

  Her pulse kicked up a gear.

  Walk away, her common sense ordered.

  Rather than take that very sound advice, she found herself creeping closer. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek, would it? Just to make sure the boys really were okay? Because she’d definitely heard a crash. And a thump. And she’d be a bad person if she didn’t at least check to make sure that—

  Jesus H. Christ.

  A sense of déjà vu slammed into her as she encountered a very familiar scene.

  Heart thudding, she hovered just out of sight of the doorway, but in a position that allowed her to see inside Aidan’s room.

  Up against the tall oak dresser, the two men were locked in an embrace that sent a bolt of desire straight to her core. Claire forgot how to breathe as she watched the hottest make-out session ever unfold before her eyes. Groans of pleasure drifted into the hall, then a series of tortured expletives as the men began clawing at each other’s clothes.

  Pants hit the floor. Shirts were whipped aside. Boxers disappeared.

  Her entire body burned as if she’d stepped into a raging inferno.

  Naked. Oh God, they were naked now, but she only had a view of Aidan’s back. And backside. Holy hell, he had the greatest ass, round and tight and sexy. Dylan must have agreed, because his hands instantly slid down to squeeze those taut buttocks.

  They kissed again and the flash of tongue she glimpsed made her swallow a moan. She needed to walk away. Now. Right now.

  But her feet stayed rooted to the hardwood.

  “Suck my cock.” Dylan’s low command sent a shiver running through her.

  “Ask me nicely,” came Aidan’s mocking response.

  “Get down on your knees, Aid, and suck my goddamn cock.”

  Every muscle in Claire’s body tightened with anticipation. The loud pounding of her heart muffled their voices, so she inched closer, needing to hear what they were saying.

  “I fucking love drunk Dylan,” Aidan growled. “Always going all alpha on me.”

  “Good for you, man. Now suck drunk Dylan’s cock.”

  When Aidan dropped to his knees, Claire almost fainted.

  Stars danced in front of her eyes, bothersome white dots that made everything look hazy. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. No way was she missing a second of this. No. Fucking. Way.

  She watched Aidan grip the root of Dylan’s erection with one hand. Ever so slowly, he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the glistening mushroom tip.

  Her mouth fell open as Aidan’s head began to move up and down Dylan’s cock. He sucked with fervor, using his fist to pump the thick shaft on every upstroke, and each time his mouth enveloped the entire hard length, Dylan groaned with abandon.

  “Fuck, yeah. Oh Jesus, keep doing that, man.”

  Man. Not baby or some other endearment, Claire noted, and that hoarse syllable merely underlined what she was witnessing. A man giving another man a blowjob.

  Natasha was right. There was nothing freaking hotter.

  Dylan began moving his hips in earnest, his hands thrusting into Aidan’s dark hair to control the pace.

  Claire couldn’t look away. Couldn’t focus on anything other than the long, glistening cock tunneling in and out of Aidan’s accommodating mouth. When Dylan let out a strangled curse, she managed to wrench her gaze up so she could see his expression. The look on his face stole the breath right out of her lungs.

  Raw pleasure, pure lust.

  Her gaze drifted back to Aidan, whose head was bobbing, whose enthusiasm floored her, whose erection was unmistakable as it slapped his belly with his every move. She wouldn’t have expected him to be the submissive one, the one on his knees moaning as Dylan’s dirty commands directed his movements.

  Ironically, the second she made the observation, it got turned on its head.

  “I need you in me,” Dylan mumbled.

  Claire’s breath caught. She thought she might have misheard him, but then he repeated himself, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted.

  “God, Aidan, I need you in me. Come up here and fuck me, damn it.”

  12

  Dylan was aroused to the point of pain, his balls harder than bowling balls, every drop of blood in his body pooling and throbbing in his dick. He totally regretted having a few beers with Cash and the boys at their favorite dive bar tonight. Alcohol always turned him into a raging horndog, as all his buddies could confirm, and though he wasn’t one for melodrama, he knew that if he didn’t come soon, he might actually die.

  “You want me in your ass, huh?” Aidan’s voice was all gravel as he rose to his full height, putting them at eye level.

  Knots of anticipation formed in Dylan’s groin. “Yes. I want you in my ass.”

  His gaze dropped to Aidan’s cock, eight inches of rock-hard power. He bit back a moan as he watched that cock grow even fuller, a pearl of moisture seeping from its tip.

  “Goddammit, Aid, stop standing there and give it to me.”

  Amusement flickered in Aidan’s chocolate-brown eyes before darkening into sinful promise. “Turn around. Put your hands on the dresser and don’t move.”

  Taking a breath, Dylan did as ordered. He braced both palms on top of the sleek oak and waited. Listened to the sound of Aidan’s footsteps heading for the bed, the creak of a drawer, the ripping of a condom wrapper and the plastic snap of a tube opening.

  When warm hands caressed his back, he sucked his breath in. Continued to wait with patience he certainly didn’t feel. He wanted to bring one hand to his cock and jack off, but Aidan had told him not to move, and there was something wickedly hot about being at the other man’s mercy, letting Aidan control when and how he came.

  Aidan’s breath tickled the nape of his neck as the man moved closer. The feel of an erection pressing against his ass cheeks made him shudder.

  “Stop being a cocktease. Give me what I want.”

  There was a husky chuckle. “How bad do you want it?”

  Warm hands slowly traveled down to Dylan’s ass, giving it a light squeeze.

  He groaned. “So goddamn bad.”

  When slick fingers slid between his ass cheeks and probed his entrance, his head fell forward, the anticipation growing, surging in his veins.

  Aidan took his time getting him ready, using a generous amount of lubrication, teasing Dylan by pushing just the tip of one finger inside.

  “I love this tight ass,” Aidan muttered. “Feels so good clamped around my cock.”

  He groaned with impatience, ready to burst, ready to beg, but before he could voice his frustration, Aidan slipped two fingers inside and started fucking him with them.

  “Oh fuck,” he moaned.
The slight burning sensation gave way to ripples of pleasure that pulsated in his ass and cock.

  “Christ, I wanna fuck you.” Aidan added a third finger, and Dylan’s body stretched to accommodate it. “I wanna shove my dick in your ass and fuck you hard.”

  “Do it,” he begged. “Please.”

  The desperation in his voice roused another chuckle from the man who was determined to torment him. Aidan continued to push his fingers in and out in a leisurely rhythm that caused sweat to break out on Dylan’s brow.

  He bore down on those long fingers and pleasure jolted through him, but he knew this didn’t feel half as good as the sensation of being filled by this man.

  “I swear to God, man, if you don’t shove your dick inside me right now I’m gonna kick your—”

  Aidan plunged in with one fluid stroke.

  The threat died on Dylan’s lips and his head damn near exploded from the deep, erotic intrusion. Aidan’s cock was buried in his ass, and it felt so criminally good he almost blacked out.

  And that was before the man began to move—once Aidan started ramming into him with hard, fast strokes, Dylan’s surroundings faded away, his entire world reduced to a haze of pleasure and the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

  “Love fucking you,” Aidan mumbled, digging his fingers into Dylan’s hips.

  He buckled back, meeting him thrust for thrust, growling when Aidan drove even deeper and faster. The dresser shook and smacked against the wall. Their ragged breathing heated the air.

  “You wanna come, don’t you?” Aidan reached around and gripped Dylan’s erection in his fist. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

  A groan choked out. “Yes.”

  “Good, because I wanna feel your hot come on my hand when I blow my load inside you. Do it now, man.”

  That was all it took, the harsh command, the rough pump of Aidan’s hand on his dick. The climax boiled in his balls, but just before it could spill over, a flash of movement crossed Dylan’s peripheral vision.

  He turned his head and that’s when he saw her. Standing there watching. Rosy-red lips parted, cheeks flushed, breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath.

  Their eyes locked and Dylan exploded like a Fourth of July fireworks display, the pleasure searing his balls before shooting out in all directions, seizing every muscle in his body. Hot jets sprayed into Aidan’s hand, which instantly made the other man lose control.

  “Oh fuck, coming. Coming inside your ass, man.” Breathing hard, Aidan rested his forehead on Dylan’s shoulder and trembled in release, his cock throbbing in Dylan’s tight channel.

  Dylan’s gaze never left Claire’s. Her brown eyes blazed with molten heat as they stared at each other.

  Maybe he should have felt embarrassed that she’d witnessed him being dominated this way, but he didn’t. He only felt exhilarated and sated.

  He tilted his head slightly, offering her an unspoken invitation.

  Join us.

  A second passed. Two. Three.

  And then she broke the eye contact and stumbled off.

  He didn’t feel an ounce of disappointment as Claire disappeared in the shadows, because even though she’d fled just now, there was no doubt in his mind she’d be back.

  He’d seen the hunger in her eyes. He’d felt it. Claire McKinley was going to be theirs, all right.

  Hell, she already was.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  * * *

  When Claire entered the kitchen early the next morning, she made a conscious and diligent effort not to meet the eyes of the two men sipping their coffees at the kitchen counter.

  Nope, wasn’t going to look at them. As long as she avoided all visual contact, she would be just fine and fully capable of acting like she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary last night.

  “Morning,” Aidan said lightly.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning,” Dylan piped up.

  “Morning,” she murmured again.

  There. She’d managed to greet them both without making eye contact.

  She opened the fridge, taking an extra long time rummaging through it even though the carton of milk she wanted was right there on the middle shelf. The frigid air was a relief, blasting her scorching cheeks and cooling her down. God, she didn’t think she’d stopped blushing since the moment she’d crept up to Aidan’s door and seen—

  Nothing. You saw nothing.

  She snatched the milk carton, then walked over to the cabinets above the counter to find a bowl. Except the cupboard was a good five inches out of reach, forcing her to get on her tiptoes and stick her arm up in a strained effort to connect with the handle.

  Out of nowhere, Aidan came up behind her, his lips dangerously close to her ear. “Let me help you with that.”

  His lemon-scented aftershave teased her senses, made her feel lightheaded. Why did he have to smell so good?

  He opened the cupboard, pulled out a ceramic bowl and held it out.

  She accepted the bowl with a soft “thank you”.

  And without meeting his eyes.

  “So what are your plans for the day?” Dylan asked her as she ducked into the pantry for a box of Corn Flakes.

  “I wanted to hit the mall to do some Christmas shopping.” She prepared a bowl of cereal, then sat at the opposite end of the counter and started to eat. Quickly. Because the faster she ate, the faster she could leave the kitchen and pretend she’d never seen—

  Nothing. You saw nothing.

  “Want us to drop you off before we head to the base?” Aidan offered.

  “It’s six-thirty in the morning, Aidan. The stores don’t open until nine.”

  “Right. My bad. You’ll be okay taking a cab, then?”

  “I’ll be just fine.” Crap, that sounded snippy. She almost lifted her head to shoot him an apologetic look, then thought better of it.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw that Dylan had drained his coffee and was sliding off his stool. He strode toward the dishwasher and opened the door, then bent over to place his empty cup in the tray.

  I want you in my ass.

  Dylan’s desperate plea to Aidan echoed in her mind, and a hot shiver scurried up her spine. Oh God, the way he was bending over like that, his ass hugged by those camo pants… But there’d been nothing covering that ass last night, not unless you counted Aidan’s muscular thighs pressed up against Dylan’s buttocks as Aidan’s cock slammed into—

  “You okay there, sweetheart?” Aidan inquired in a gratingly cheerful voice.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered.

  “If you say so.”

  But she was the furthest thing from fine. Now that she’d allowed that one memory in, the rest were buzzing in her head like a swarm of bees.

  Aidan on his knees, his lips stretched around Dylan’s cock.

  Dylan begging to be taken.

  Aidan taking him.

  Both of them coming.

  The whole scene had replayed in her dreams last night, the filthiest, sexiest, raunchiest dreams she’d ever had in her life. She’d woken up between each one, panting, sweating, quivering from what she suspected had been actual orgasms. And each dream had ended the same way—with Dylan’s green eyes burning with ecstasy as he held her gaze and orgasmed.

  He’d seen her. He’d seen her standing there, and yet he hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t sought her out last night, wasn’t mentioning it this morning.

  She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

  “All right, we’re taking off.” Aidan’s voice jolted her back to the present. “Call my cell if you need anything, okay?”

  “Okay.” She kept her gaze firmly on her empty cereal bowl.

  As they shuffled toward the doorway, Claire couldn’t believe she’d made it through the entire exchange without a single look in their direction. She was about to give herself a mental pat on the back when Dylan’s silky voice drifted her way.

  “Hey, Claire?”
/>   Her head lifted involuntarily, causing the accidental meeting of their eyes.

  “Yeah?” she said warily.

  “You were moaning in your sleep last night.” Chuckling, Dylan sauntered out of the kitchen.

  * * *

  “Who do you think would win in a fight, Costner’s Robin Hood or Crowe’s?” Aidan stretched his legs out and absently glanced at the TV, which was playing the Russell Crowe version of the aforementioned film.

  Dylan was lying on the other couch, his head propped up by a throw pillow. “That’s a trick question,” he said immediately. “The real winner would be Cary Elwes from Men in Tights.”

  Aidan burst out laughing. “Why?”

  “Duh. Because he speaks with a British accent.” In an impressive move, Dylan recited the line in a British accent.

  “Shit, that’s actually a badass British accent, bro.”

  “I know, right?”

  They turned their attention back to the screen, but Aidan wasn’t particularly interested in the movie. He was too busy wondering what Claire was doing in Dylan’s bedroom. She’d been hiding away all night, same way she’d done last night, and the night before, and the night before that.

  He had to give her credit—the woman had successfully managed to avoid them for three days now, a damn near impossible feat considering they were living in the same condo.

  Aidan knew all about Claire’s initiation into the wonderful world of voyeurism, and damn, he wished he’d gotten to see her face that night. Dylan insisted she’d liked everything she’d seen. Judging by the blush that had graced her cheeks ever since, Aidan suspected his roommate was right.

  “She’s only got a week and a half of vacation time left.”

  “I know.” Dylan sounded as glum as Aidan felt.

  “I don’t want her to go.” The confession slipped out before he could stop it.

  “Me neither.”

  They fell silent again, watching the movie with mutual disinterest.

  When he heard soft footsteps a few minutes later, Aidan’s heart did an involuntary flip. He eagerly sat up just as Claire stepped into the living room, but his rising excitement plummeted the moment he saw her face.