Feeling Hot (Out of Uniform #7)

She froze in the middle of her bedroom as a terrifying thought struck her. Now that she’d lost her job at Arnold’s, she might actually have no choice but to move back home. She had enough money saved to pay a few more months of rent, but after that?

“Don’t think about it,” she mumbled, banishing the scary notion.

Squaring her shoulders, she approached the weathered wooden desk sitting beneath the small window that offered a stunning view of the brick wall belonging to the building next door. Her camera bag sat on the desk, and as she slung the strap over her shoulder, the familiar weight of the bag and the Nikon digital SLR it housed brought a sense of tranquility.

Her camera was the one thing guaranteed to soothe her soul. Whenever she peered through the lens of a camera, she felt so confident, so utterly in control. Everything else seemed to melt away—the problems, the stress, the bullshit bogging her down. Taking pictures had always been her means for escape, and at the moment, she needed to escape. Big time.

However, she’d promised Carson she wouldn’t venture out of the apartment unless it was absolutely necessary, which meant she’d have to make do with taking pictures from the balcony.

As she left the bedroom, Jen tried convincing herself that everything would be fine. She’d find a new job. She’d be rid of Brendan once he left San Diego—and until then, the restraining order would keep him in line. And if Cash didn’t call, then no biggie.

She would be just fine.

Still, that didn’t stop her mind from drifting back to the blue-eyed charmer who’d almost rocked her world two nights ago. She wondered what he was doing right now. Probably working, though she wasn’t sure what “security” entailed. He’d been pretty vague about it. Was he a security guard? A bouncer? Sitting in an office right now, designing security software or something?

Or maybe he had the day off and was at home at this very moment, bored, restless—and not thinking about calling her. She’d given him her number in the hope that they could continue exploring the spark burning between them, but evidently Cash hadn’t felt the same combustible chemistry.

Too bad. Considering she’d be housebound for a while, it would’ve been nice to pass the time with her dark-haired hottie.

“You’re missing out, McCoy,” she murmured as she stepped out on the small balcony that overlooked the quiet street below.

Yep, he was totally missing out. With the way her life was going right now, she would’ve jumped at the chance for some hot, sweaty, forget-about-your-problems sex. He wouldn’t even have to buy her dinner—that’s how much of a sure thing she was.

But oh well. He clearly didn’t plan on calling her.

Apparently he had better things to do.




“That’s it, babe, suck my cock. Ah, just like that.”

Cash pushed his erection deeper into the brunette’s mouth. Her teeth scraped the underside of his shaft, sending a zip of heat to his balls. Sweet baby Jesus, he’d needed this. A hot mouth surrounding him, wet tongue lapping him up, soft fingers teasing his sac.

The girl bobbed her head as she got into the blowjob, sucking with such fervor Cash found his ass bumping into the arm of the couch. He hadn’t wasted any time once he’d walked into Dylan Wade’s living room and found the luscious Vanessa on her knees, servicing his buddy. Clothes had come off, positions had switched, and now Cash was on the receiving end of that wicked tongue while Dylan screwed Vanessa from behind.

By some miracle, he hadn’t come the second she took him in her mouth. After six months with no sex, he’d figured he’d explode like a Fourth of July firecracker if a woman so much as looked at his dick.

The sounds of sex bounced off the walls—sucking, slurping, moans, grunts. Dylan’s roommate Seth had gone out for the evening, but even if he walked in right this very moment, Cash knew the sexy brunette wouldn’t balk. She hadn’t even batted an eye when Cash showed up, more than willing to take on both SEALs.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Dylan muttered, gripping Vanessa’s ass as he fucked her with slow, steady strokes. “So sweet. I love this hot, tight pussy.”

His buddy’s hips thrust and retreated, each plunge pushing Vanessa’s face into Cash’s crotch. He cradled the back of her head to steady her, groaning as her eager mouth sucked him so deep his balls tickled her chin. The tingling in his groin told him he was close, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off impending release. He didn’t want to come yet, not until he was buried inside that tight channel Dylan kept waxing poetic about.

“Slower, babe,” Cash choked out. He tangled his fingers in her long, silky hair and stilled her enthusiastic bobbing. “I want this to last.”