Feeling Hot (Out of Uniform Book 3)(2)

By: Elle Kennedy

Last time he’d gotten laid was…jeez, had it really been before the deployment to Afghanistan? While some guys managed to score a quick hookup overseas, Cash had a strict rule about not fucking around on the job, even if given a rare night off. His head was always on the mission, the objective. Sex didn’t make a blip on his radar when he was out in the field.

But damn, six months was too long to go without sex. He’d been hoping to remedy that bleak statistic when he got home, but his parents had decided to spring a spontaneous visit on him the moment he was stateside, so he’d spent the past fourteen days doing the tourist bullshit with the folks. Which upped his celibacy statistic to six months and two weeks.

Fortunately, his parents had flown back to Phoenix last night. Cash had decided to indulge in a day of rest before satisfying his sexual appetite, but now, as Savannah let out another throaty moan, he was ready to gorge himself.

Shutting off the TV, he stood up, crossed the open-concept room and headed for the kitchen where he’d left his cell phone. He scrolled through his contact list, shot a quick text to a few of his teammates, then leaned against the granite counter as he awaited a reply.

Matt’s bedroom door swung open and Aidan Rhodes stumbled out, his brown hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and dark eyes hazy.

“What’s up, McCoy?” Aidan called when he caught sight of him.

Cash grinned. “Nothing much. You look tired, Rhodes. The dynamic duo wear you out?”

Groaning, Aidan buttoned the blue shirt he wore over his black wifebeater. “Yep. Those two are sex maniacs.”

Cash’s phone beeped, drawing his gaze down to the screen.

Can’t tonight. Well, Dylan was out.

So was Seth, who texted back, Too hung-over to move.

When Jackson chimed in with, Next time, Cash tucked the phone in the back pocket of his camo pants. Looked like he was flying solo tonight.

Unless… He glanced at Aidan. “Want to check out that new bar on 5th and Market with me?”

The dark-haired man shook his head. “Maybe another time. I’ve gotta be at the base early tomorrow morning. No downtime for me, remember?”

Right. He tended to forget that Aidan wasn’t an active-duty soldier, probably because the guy was built like one. But Aidan worked on the base, doing some hush-hush intelligence stuff Cash wasn’t privy to.

“Catch you later,” Aidan said, giving a brisk nod as he let himself out of the apartment.

A moment later, Matt’s door opened once more and Savannah Harte strolled out, wearing a silky red robe that molded to her tall, centerfold figure like plastic wrap. The woman was a damn knockout with all that pale blonde hair cascading down her back and laughing gray eyes that always held a hint of seduction.

“Hey, Cash, heading out?” she asked as she waltzed past him. She buried her nose in the fridge and emerged with a can of Sprite in her hand.

“Yeah, I’m tired of being cooped up inside.”

“We weren’t being too loud, were we?”

“Couldn’t hear a thing.”

She smirked. “I know you’re lying. You’re doing that weird eyebrow twitch.”

“I do not have a weird eyebrow twitch.”

“Sure you do. Why do you think I always beat you at poker? You can’t bluff for shit.”

Matt’s southern drawl wafted out of the bedroom. “Hey, darlin’, grab me a beer while you’re out there.”

Cash lifted his brows. “You know, I’d never order you around like that.” He shot her a wolfish grin. “I think it’s time you dumped O’Connor and hooked up with me instead.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Matt yelled from the bedroom. “Stop hitting on my girlfriend, McCoy.”

Laughing, Savannah ducked behind the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of Bud. “I appreciate the offer,” she said in a mock whisper. “I’ll let you know when I tire of him, okay?”


With another laugh, Savannah rounded the counter. She paused only to ruffle his hair before sauntering out of the room.

As he watched her go, he couldn’t fight the little burst of envy that rippled through him. O’Connor had really lucked out with that one.

But just because he appreciated what the other man had didn’t mean he was looking for that special someone just yet. At the moment, he was content with no-strings sex and the occasional—fine, frequent—threesome with Dylan.

Hell, he’d only turned twenty-seven last month. He still had a shitload of sexual energy to release before he settled down. Besides, he sucked ass when it came to talking to women. He knew exactly what to say to entice them out of their panties, possessed all the right words during sex, but his out-of-the-bedroom conversational skills were lacking big-time.

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