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

by Kennedy, Elle

  “Dirt cheap,” she murmured. “Because I knew you’d—”

  He ripped the straps, the seams splitting apart as the panties were torn off her.

  “—rip them off me,” she finished with a laugh. “You know, you really are a caveman.”

  Guilty as charged. His hormones went batshit crazy around this woman, turned him into a growling, panting Neanderthal with primal urges that couldn’t be satisfied until he was buried deep inside her.

  He lifted Jen into his arms and grasped her ass, grinding her lower body against his as he bent his head to kiss her. Their mouths stayed latched, tongues tangling as he lowered her onto the bed and kissed his way down her body, breathing in the sweet scent of her body lotion. He’d just placed an openmouthed kiss on her hip when he noticed her hand resting on the mattress, the short red fingernails.

  He ran his knuckles over her nails. “I love this color on you.”

  “Do you?” she said innocently. “I had no idea.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m sure you didn’t.” Rolling his eyes, he positioned both her hands at her sides. “You’re gonna want to keep your hands there.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He offered a smug smile. “Because pretty soon you’ll be clawing at the sheets.”

  “I will, huh? Says wh—” She gasped when he suddenly buried his face between her thighs.

  Lord, he was addicted to this girl. Addicted to the sweet taste of her, the hot, slick feel of her, the way she whimpered his name and rocked her hips into his face as he got her off.

  He slid one finger inside her. Her hot channel clamped around it, and as he slowly pumped in and out, he raised his head to meet her eyes.

  “I love this tight pussy,” he rasped. “I love it even more knowing it’s all mine.”

  She moaned when he added a second finger.

  “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

  “Yours.” Her response came out as a wheeze.

  “I’m the only man who gets to touch you here. The only man who gets to put his fingers inside you.” Her inner muscles squeezed his fingers, telling him she enjoyed hearing every word. His intensity in bed had intimidated the women he’d dated in the past, but not Jen. It excited her. Stoked her arousal.

  Jen’s hips rose off the bed, her breathing growing labored as he circled her clit with his tongue. He loved making his woman moan. Loved seeing her blue eyes go hazy with passion as she neared the brink.

  “Cash,” she whimpered. “I’m…”

  He lifted his head, smiling at her anguished expression. “No, you’re not. Not until I’m inside you.”

  He climbed up her body and covered it with his, kissing her roughly as he guided his erection to her core. She reached between them before he could slide in, grasping his cock. Hard.

  “Mine,” she said fiercely.

  A grin sprang to his lips. “There’s no question about that, sweetheart.”

  He gave a quick thrust, and his brain damn near imploded from the sheer pleasure of being inside her. They’d stopped using condoms last year, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the intimate contact.

  “I love you,” he groaned, his head dropping into the crook of her neck.

  She wrapped her arms around him and dug her nails into his back. “I love you too, cowboy.”

  He started to move, driving into her as deep as he could go, but frustration shot through him when he registered the lace scratching his chest. He wanted to feel her tits rubbing against him, her nipples scraping his pecs.

  He rose onto his knees, his cock still lodged inside her, and touched the ribbons that held the front of her merry widow together. “How much did this cost?” he mumbled.

  “Pennies,” she assured him. “Because I knew—”

  He tore the ribbons and yanked the bra cups apart, exposing her breasts.

  “—you’d rip it off me,” she finished. “God, Cash. You’re the reason I can’t have nice things.”

  Flashing a cocky grin, he leaned forward and rotated his hips in a slow circle. “I’m giving you something nice now.” He swiped his tongue over one nipple, then propped her leg on his hip and plunged deep. “More than nice, actually.”

  Her lips found his again as he moved inside her. Slow and sweet, prolonging the pleasure and kindling the fire until finally his restraint snapped like a matchstick and he fucked her hard and fast, his entire world reducing to a hot, pulsing climax that blazed through his body and sent him soaring.

  When he crashed back to earth, he found Jen gazing up at him in pure satisfaction. “More than nice,” she echoed with a happy purr.

  He rolled onto his side, nuzzled her neck for a moment, then got up to duck into the master bath. He returned with a towel, gently running it between her legs to clean her up, while she lazily stretched her arms over her head like a contented cat.

  Fuck, she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, even more so with the afterglow of orgasm flushing her cheeks and shining in her eyes.

  But now that his cock was sated and his brain was firing on all cylinders, Cash’s suspicions swiftly reared up again.

  “Two things,” he announced, sitting at the edge of the bed.

  Jen raised her eyebrows. “Okay…”

  “One—that was fucking amazing.”

  Her lips curved in a smile. “Hells yeah.”

  “And two—” he eyed her in challenge, “—what exactly did you do and how mad is it going to make me?”

  * * *

  Argh. She should’ve known Cash would see through the seduction. The man was too perceptive for his own good. Oftentimes when she introduced him to people, they took one look at his broad, muscular body and the ruggedly handsome face that came with it, and assumed he was all brawn and no brains.

  But Cash McCoy was highly intelligent and shrewd as hell, and it was infuriatingly difficult to get anything past him.

  “Did you dent the car again?” he demanded. “Because, you know what? I love you so hard, babe, but I’m just gonna say it—you’re a bad driver.”

  She shot into a sitting position. “I am not! And I didn’t dent the car,” she said defensively. “The only reason it even happened was because I got boxed in by that Hummer in the supermarket parking lot. It was a miracle I managed to get out of the space! Who still owns a Hummer these days? They’re so bad for the environment and they’re enormous and I’m happy I scraped that jerk’s door. He deserves it for driving such a terrible vehicle.”

  Cash’s lips twitched. “I happen to love hummers.”

  She jabbed her index finger between his pecs. “Yeah? Well, if you insult my driving skills again, you won’t get another hummer for as long as I live.”

  “Fine, you’re a great driver. You never, ever text in the car. And you never, ever touch up your make-up when you’re sitting in traffic.”

  “Sitting in traffic,” she emphasized. “Hence, not moving. Why can’t I pass the time by putting on mascara? It’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do in traffic.”

  “Agree to disagree.”

  He stood up and crossed his arms, completely unfazed by his nudity. She wasn’t exactly complaining, though, because she happened to love it when he was naked.

  “Okay, so what’d you do? Shit, don’t tell me you’re springing a dinner with the admiral on me. We agreed that going to your parents’ place would be a monthly thing. And we already went this month.”

  Jen couldn’t control her laughter. Seeing her big, tough SEAL cower at the thought of spending time with her dad was pretty damn funny.

  In Cash’s defense, her father was terrifying. Just because Gary Scott was no longer active duty didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of scaring the crap out of people, and he’d used his enhanced intimidation skills to scare more than a few of his “little girl’s” boyfriends over the years. Luckily, despite the cross-examinations Cash faced every time they saw her dad, both her parents loved him.

  She headed for the clothes-littered armchair in search of a
T-shirt. “Don’t worry, we’re not seeing my parents until next month.”

  She found a shirt in the tangled pile of clothes and slipped it on, then gazed ruefully at the torn lingerie strewn across the hardwood floor. Sighing, she wandered over to her underwear drawer to get some boring old cotton panties. It really was impossible to own anything expensive when you lived with a caveman.

  “Rick called to tell me about my latest assignment,” she said nonchalantly, keeping her back turned as she rifled through the drawer.

  “Oh, that’s all?” His tone relaxed. “You had me worried.”

  She wiggled into her underwear and turned to face him. “It’s a little different from my usual jobs,” she admitted. “I’ll be going to, um, Honduras. To photograph a couple villages.”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Are you serious?”

  Jen nodded.

  When he didn’t say anything else she hurried on, telling him the same things she’d told Claire earlier. She played up the poverty angle and played down the gang warfare, but she could see from Cash’s expression that she wasn’t doing a very good job convincing him.

  “I’ll only be there for two days,” she assured him. “And I’ll have military transport to the villages and a marine escort at all times.”

  Cash didn’t answer. His expression had gone cloudy.

  “Look, I’m not going to lie. We both know it’s not the safest place at the moment. There’s a war on drugs, conflicts with the gangs. But there are also a lot of people in need.”

  Still no answer. The cloud in his eyes gathered in strength, darkening, glinting ominously.

  “People are starving. There isn’t enough food or clean water. The living conditions are awful, and the streets are full of homeless people. Children, Cash. The major relief foundations are refusing to help because of the gangs, but this article and the pictures that will go with it—my pictures—it’ll help raise awareness.”

  As his silence dragged on, Jen fought a burst of frustration. She ran her hands through her tousled hair to smooth it out, then grabbed an elastic from the dresser top and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Will you say something already?” she grumbled.

  Cash met her eyes, his jaw tighter than she’d ever seen it. “No.”

  “No, you won’t say something, or—”

  “No, you’re not going,” he cut in.

  His voice was low but ferocious, and he’d widened his stance in a pose of pure aggression. Cash McCoy was a menacing sight on a good day, but when he was angry? He was downright formidable.

  But Jen wasn’t scared of him, and her jaw fell open as his words registered. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” He scowled at her. “You’re not going.”

  3

  Would it be wrong to hit the man you loved?

  Probably.

  Besides, she didn’t really want to hit him. Maybe kick him in the shin, though. Or throw something at him. Because…had he really just told her she couldn’t go?

  As in, he was attempting to dictate what she could and could not do in her own life?

  “Okay, just to be clear,” Jen said tightly. “You’re telling me I can’t go?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Cash shot back.

  Anger and disbelief twisted in her belly, making it difficult to keep the hostility out of her tone. “So you make decisions for me now?”

  “About this? Hell yes.” He grabbed his jeans and yanked them on. His sculpted shoulders were rigid with tension. “You think I’m going to let my girlfriend happily stroll into a war zone? No fucking way.”

  “First of all, it’s not a warzone. And second, even if it was, how is me going any different from what you do?” she challenged. “You put your life at risk on a daily basis!”

  “That’s what I trained for, Jen. I went through years and years of training that taught me how to handle myself in risky situations.”

  “And I can’t handle myself?” she demanded, her skin prickling with offense.

  “No, you can’t,” he said bluntly. “You’re trained in self-defense, not in urban warfare. Central America is too unstable right now. It’s too fucking dangerous, especially for a woman traveling alone.”

  “I won’t be alone,” she insisted. “I already told you, the magazine is arranging for a military transport. And there’s a whole unit of US Marines down there training the local military.”

  “That doesn’t mean shit if you’re in a town that’s overrun with gangs and they open fire on you, or kidnap you, or kill you.”

  “We won’t be going into areas like that.”

  “The whole country is areas like that!” Cash snatched his shirt off the floor and threw it on, radiating waves of white-hot anger.

  But Jen was equally infuriated. It would’ve been one thing if he’d calmly suggested they talk it over, but to flat-out say she couldn’t go? With no discussion? Without even hearing the details?

  She didn’t mind a caveman in bed, but this was ridiculous.

  “I’ll be taking every precaution. And you know I’ve visited poverty-stricken areas before. I only do boring portraits for Today’s World, but I used to travel on my own, remember?”

  “The other places you’ve gone haven’t involved drug cartels and—” He stopped and shook his head. “I don’t know why we’re even still talking about this. You’re not going.”

  Jen could barely take a breath she was so furious. She stared at Cash’s inflexible expression as she struggled to control her temper.

  “You have no say in this,” she said stiffly. “If I choose to go, then you can’t stop me.” She stuck out her chin. “And I choose to go.”

  Astonished blue eyes stared back at her. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “Does it look like I’m kidding?”

  “You’d really put your own neck on the line just so your pictures can be featured in a lead story?”

  The harsh words stung. “It’s what I signed up for when I got into photography. I never wanted to be a bubblegum photographer who takes portraits of cats and babies and frickin’ fruit baskets! I want to shed light on real issues and make a difference.” She glared at him accusingly. “You know that. And you always said you supported it.”

  “I do support it.” He glared right back. “But not when there’s a risk to your life.”

  “There’s a risk to your life every time you go wheels-up. Every time you’re deployed for months on end.” Frustration clawed up her throat. “I have to live with that every fucking day. The worry and the panic and the fear that I’ll never see you again—”

  “Jen—”

  “Well, it’s your turn to live with it. I’m going, Cash.”

  “Jen…” A warning note crept in.

  “I’m going,” she repeated. “And as much as I would love your support about this, I don’t need it in order to accept this assignment. Nor do I need your approval.”

  He didn’t answer. A noticeable vein appeared in his forehead, his mouth set in a tight, angry line. He looked ready to explode, but Jen didn’t care. His high-handed, domineering reaction to this whole situation had seriously pissed her off.

  “By the way,” she said curtly. “I leave tomorrow.”

  Deafening silence crashed over the room.

  And then Cash stormed out without looking back. A moment later, the front door slammed so hard it shook every wall in the apartment.

  Her face collapsed the second she was alone, the defiant front she’d put on crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide. She still had every intention of taking the assignment, but, God, she hated that it had caused a rift between her and Cash. And she resented that he couldn’t see why she had to do this. She’d grown up in a household where nobody had taken her seriously. She’d watched her parents and brother devote their lives to helping people—her mother saving lives with her nursing career, her dad and Carson serving their country.

  Jen hadn’t had any of their skills, but the need to
follow in her family’s footsteps had always been there. She hadn’t planned on becoming a professional photographer—she’d been happy posting stuff on her blog and taking pictures for herself—but then she’d met Cash, who’d seen her work and convinced her that she had talent. And now she was using that talent to do some good.

  So what if this assignment was more dangerous than her previous ones? It wasn’t like she was walking in blind. The magazine would take measures to keep her safe, and even if things did get dicey, she was willing to risk it. Other people risked their lives for good causes every day, so why couldn’t she?

  It was glaringly obvious what this was about—Cash didn’t trust her to take care of herself. He’d told her so many times that she was strong and smart and capable, but clearly that was bullshit. Clearly he thought she was a weak little damsel who needed him to protect her.

  But that was bullshit. She was strong and smart and capable.

  And if the man she loved couldn’t see that, then maybe he wasn’t who she’d thought he was.

  * * *

  Cash couldn’t believe he was willingly driving to see the admiral.

  After three years of dating Jen—two of which they’d been living together—he still wasn’t comfortable around her scary-as-fuck father, a man who could stop terrorists in their tracks with one menacing look.

  And possibly the only person who might be able to neutralize this clusterfuck before Jen got herself killed.

  Cash eased his foot off the gas as he took the exit ramp for Del Mar. The engagement ring he’d bought today was burning a hole in his pocket. He’d almost given it to Jen after she’d told him about the job, but he’d forced himself not to propose out of panic.

  Why the hell had Jen’s editor offered her that assignment? She was an incredible photographer—nobody could argue that—but she wasn’t equipped to deal with gangs and drugs and potential abductions. And Cash would be damned if he lost her over a few photographs for a fucking magazine.

  The pressure weighing on his chest dissipated as he neared Jen’s childhood home. The admiral would fix this. He had to. Gary Scott worshipped his daughter—no way would he allow his little girl to place herself in harm’s way.