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Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3

Page 26

by Kennedy, Elle


  Sucking in a breath, he withdrew from her pussy, pressed his tip against that tight rosette and eased his cock inside.

  Jane let out a cry of pleasure. “More,” she begged.

  He gave her more, sliding in another inch, but it still wasn’t good enough for her. Whimpering, she pushed her ass out and forced him to fill her completely. Becker nearly fainted from the incredible sensation. She was so goddamn tight, it felt like a hot fist clenching his cock.

  Jane shifted, her hand moving between her thighs, and then he felt pressure against his cock and realized she was fingering herself while he was buried in her ass. “Do you feel that?” she whispered.

  He couldn’t make his vocal cords work, but managed a groan.

  “Imagine it’s him.” He felt her slip another finger into her pussy, at the same time his cock pumped in and out of her ass. “Can you see him, Beck? Can you see him pushing his cock into me?”

  God help him, but he saw it. He saw Ryan’s hips moving against Jane, saw Ryan’s features tightening with pleasure. Each time she pushed her fingers deeper, he imagined it was Ryan’s dick inside Jane. His pulse shrieked in his ears, his chest heaving from each ragged breath.

  “You like it, don’t you?” she said softly.

  “Yes,” he ground out.

  “It turns you on.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Becker closed his eyes and lost himself in Jane, thrusting into her with long, frantic pumps. Her husky moans drove him wild. So did the forbidden images swimming through his mind. Another man in bed with them. Another cock bringing Jane pleasure. When she began to shudder from orgasm, Becker let himself go too. He couldn’t last long, not inside that unbelievably tight channel, not when Jane was writhing and moaning in the sexiest fucking way. He couldn’t stop coming, couldn’t stop driving in and out of her sweet ass.

  When the pleasure finally ebbed, he felt shell-shocked. Jane’s back was soaked with sweat, sticking to his own sweaty chest like glue. His heartbeat was out of control, his breathing unsteady. And when Jane finally rolled over so they were face to face and kissed him, he was nothing but a pile of mindless mush. Unable to think or breathe or move.

  “Did it work?” she murmured, brushing her lips over his again.

  He found his voice. “Did what work?”

  “Did you get me out of your system?”

  He met her gaze, and the vulnerability he saw there made his heart squeeze. Had he gotten her out of his system? He wanted to laugh. Yeah, right. If anything, he wanted her even more. He’d never come that fucking hard. While fantasizing about another man screwing the woman in his bed, no less.

  A wave of unease swelled in his gut. Christ. What was he doing? Since the moment he’d met Jane, he’d been acting on impulse. Having sex with her in an elevator. Agreeing to a fling. Considering threesomes, for fuck’s sake.

  This wasn’t him. He wasn’t that guy. He was thirty-two years old and all he wanted was to settle down. Find himself a sweet, loving wife, have a couple of kids, build a nice, stable life for himself.

  Instead, he’d once again wound up with a woman he couldn’t have any of that with. Jane was incredible, yes, but she wasn’t going to be the sweet, loving housewife he desired. She was ambitious, determined to win a Pulitzer. And she’d admitted more than once this week, when he’d broached the subject, that she had no desire to have kids any time soon. So what was he supposed to do? Wait around for another fourteen years the way he’d done with Alice?

  “Becker?”

  Her soft voice brought him back to reality. He realized he hadn’t answered her question. “No,” he confessed. “I didn’t get you out of my system.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “Pity.”

  Ignoring the heavy weight pressing down on his heart, he released an unstable breath and said, “But I think I know how I can.”

  Confusion crossed her face. She let out a breath of her own, suddenly wary. “We’re actually still on this topic? I’m leaving in three days, Beck. Let’s just enjoy the time we have left.”

  “I…can’t.” He swallowed. “It’s not fair to either one of us if we continue this…this fling, or whatever the hell we’re calling it now. Three more days won’t make a difference. In the end, I still don’t want a relationship.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

  He faltered. “What?”

  Slowly, she disentangled herself from his arms and sat up. Her bare breasts rose with each breath she took. “You do want a relationship. This entire week, you’ve dropped hints about it, about the kind of life you want to have.” Jane’s cheeks turned pink with anger. “The life you described, well, it obviously requires a specific type of woman. In other words, not me.”

  He gulped again, fighting a pang of discomfort. “Jane, I think you’re amazing, you know that.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Amazing, but not good enough, right?”

  Before he could respond, she flounced off the bed and grabbed her dress off the floor. She threw it over her head without bothering with undergarments, and as she tied her halter back together, she shook her head at him. “You’re an idiot, Becker.”

  His nostrils flared. “Why? Because I want a different sort of relationship this time around? I’ve already been with one career-minded woman who didn’t want to settle down. I can’t do it again.” He locked his gaze to hers. “Tell me, Jane, what kind of relationship do you want?”

  Hesitation flickered on her face. Finally she sighed and said, “I want to settle down. One day.”

  Becker couldn’t stop the burst of disappointment that went off in his chest. Perpetually honest, that was Jane. Though, even if she’d tried to lie and convince him their life goals were aligned, he would’ve been able to see through her. Jane was very easy to read. Probably because she was incapable of lying.

  “So why drag this out?” he asked softly, rising naked from the bed. He found his jeans and pulled them up to his hips. “I like you, Jane.” His features twisted. “I more than like you. Fuck, a few more days and I can see myself half in love with you.”

  Her throat bobbed as she gulped. “I know what you mean.”

  “That’s why we need to end it now.” His chest constricted the second the words came out. “We want different things out of life. Giving ourselves three more days to get even more attached is a bad idea.”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, and when she did, there was sadness in her tone. “You’re right.” She paused. “I’ll just gather up my stuff and head back to my room.”

  Becker eliminated the distance between them and gently took hold of her arm before she could go to the door. “Hey, you can’t just hurry off. Can we at least say a proper goodbye?”

  Jane gave a faint smile. “You just fucked me in the ass. Can’t that be our goodbye?”

  His mouth twitched. Damn, he really would miss her sass. He swept his gaze over her, taking in the sight of her tousled red hair, messy and sweat-dampened from the sex. The way her dress slid over each curve of her petite body. Her full lips, red and bee-stung from their kisses. She’d never looked more beautiful.

  “C’mere,” he said gruffly, reaching for her.

  Jane hesitated, then allowed him to draw her into his embrace. He held her tight, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, smiling when her hair tickled the tip of his nose. Then he dipped his head, placing a tender kiss on her lips. She kissed him back, her tongue darting out for one brief moment to meet his, then retreating.

  “It’s been fun,” she said lightly as she stepped out of his arms.

  “More than fun,” he corrected. He shifted awkwardly. “Will you send me a copy of the magazine when your article comes out?”

  “Sure.” She bent down and collected her underwear from the floor. Tucking it into her purse, she ruefully glanced at the other items of clothing strewn across the room. “Can you toss everything else into the duffel I brought over and have it sent to my room?”


  “No problem.” His throat suddenly felt thick, tight. “I’ll see you around, Jane.”

  “See you around, Becker,” she echoed.

  She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked out of the room. As the front door clicked shut, Becker realized they’d just spoken the same parting words they’d exchanged that first day, when they went their separate ways after the elevator encounter.

  Last time, the goodbye hadn’t stuck.

  This time, he had to make sure it did.

  7

  Jane woke up the next morning to the sound of her cell phone chirping out a tinny rendition of a Bon Jovi song. It was her sister’s ringtone, which was the only reason she forced herself into a sitting position and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. She hadn’t spoken to Liz since she’d driven down to San Diego from LA, and she wanted to make sure her older sister was doing okay. Being held hostage in South America wasn’t an easy experience to forget, though Liz kept acting like it was no biggie.

  “Hey, Lizzie,” she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

  “Hey, Janie,” her sister teased. “Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry, I had to get up anyway.” She shifted the phone to her other ear and climbed out of bed.

  “How’s the writing going?”

  “At the moment, it’s not. But I’m planning on sitting down and finishing the first draft today.”

  “Did you end up getting an interview with Lieutenant Becker?”

  Jane ignored the pain and regret that filled her belly. “No, he didn’t agree to it.”

  “I thought that would happen.” Liz chuckled. “He seemed like a very private man.”

  “He is.”

  “But that body—it’s to die for, isn’t it?”

  Another spark of pain. Yep, Becker’s body truly was amazing. But not as amazing as the rest of him. She’d spent nearly a week with the man, plenty of time to get acquainted with his other attributes. Like the gentle way he brushed her hair off her forehead. His rare smiles and even rarer bursts of laughter. His intelligence. The way he accepted her completely, appreciated her candid nature and total lack of inhibition.

  Except…he hadn’t completely accepted her, now had he? She hadn’t been enough for him, when it mattered.

  Irritation nipped at her throat. His ex-wife had screwed him up pretty badly, and now he was going out of his way to find a woman who probably didn’t even exist. This wasn’t the 1950s anymore. Chances were, he’d have a tough time finding that perfect, childbearing housewife of his.

  Not that it was any of her business. She and Becker were over. The fling had ended. Now she needed to focus on other things, namely writing her article and going back to LA.

  “Listen,” her sister was saying, “Mom and Dad are planning a party for Ken’s birthday. We’re using one of his photos as the cover of the invitation, but Mom wanted you to write the text.”

  Jane bit back her surprise. Her family didn’t usually make much of an effort to acknowledge her career. Sure, scribbling the text for an invitation wouldn’t showcase her writing or anything, but it was the first time they’d bothered to include her in something. A rush of warmth filled her heart. Maybe almost losing Liz had made her parents realize their younger daughter was important too.

  “Tell Mom I’ll call her when I get home,” Jane said. “I’d be happy to help out.”

  “Good.” Liz’s voice softened. “You sure you’re okay? You sound…sad.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just busy.”

  “Well, finish up that article and come home already. We’ll go out for lunch when you get back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  The two sisters hung up, and Jane drifted into the bathroom. After she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower, she put on a pair of denim shorts and a yellow tank top, suddenly feeling a burst of inspiration. Talking to Liz had reminded her of the reason she’d come here in the first place. She picked up the laptop case sitting on the dresser and carried it over to the sitting area, which consisted of a tiny table and semi-comfortable chair. She pulled the computer out of its case, booted it up, and got to work.

  She worked for four hours straight, only stopping to take a quick lunch break and order room service. It was nearly six o’clock when she finally leaned back in the chair and rolled her aching shoulders. Done. As she read over her work, she realized she’d completely forgotten about the interview she’d scheduled with Ryan Evans, but she decided she didn’t need it. The story of her sister’s ordeal was just as powerful without the interview.

  And it was pretty damn good, if she said so herself. It probably would have been better if the magazine could print that gorgeous photo of Beck standing in front of the helicopter. But Becker had made his refusal clear.

  He’d made a lot of things clear, hadn’t he?

  Stop thinking about him.

  The voice in her head was firm, but it didn’t deter Jane from thinking about him. From remembering all the time they’d spent together this week. Damn it. What was the matter with that man? The two of them were explosive together. Jane had never felt a connection like this with a man before, and she knew Becker had felt that same connection. Obviously it hadn’t mattered to him as much as it mattered to her.

  The ring of her phone jerked her out of her thoughts. Arching her stiff back to stretch it, she got up and grabbed the cell from the bed. An unfamiliar number flashed across the screen. Wary, she picked up. “Hello?”

  “Finally,” teased a male voice. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, and that was very upsetting. My ego is fragile.”

  She recognized the mischievous rasp of Ryan Evans’ voice immediately. An unwitting smile reached her lips. “I’m not avoiding you. I’ve been working on my article and I tend to block out all outside noise when I’m writing. I take it you called before.”

  “Three times,” he said with mock severity. “This is the most effort I’ve ever gone to for a woman.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “You should be.” Ryan finally grew serious. “So, did you still want to do that interview?”

  Her gaze drifted to the laptop across the room. Technically, she didn’t need Ryan anymore. She could just polish up the article, send it to Maureen tonight, and head back to LA tomorrow morning.

  But that still meant she’d be alone tonight. Alone, most likely pigging out on room-service desserts, and thinking about Becker.

  That did not sound like fun.

  “Actually, I don’t think I need the interview anymore,” she answered. “But…I could use some company, if you’re up for it.”

  “I’m up for anything when it comes to you.”

  His voice oozed sexuality, and Jane felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She thought about last night with Becker, how the two of them pretended Ryan was in the room with them. God, that had been hot.

  Pushing the memory away, she cleared her throat. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “I’m actually heading over to the Sand Bar tonight. I’m meeting Matt—Matt O’Connor, you met him yesterday—in a couple of hours, but I could meet you there now if you want.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “What’s your poison? I’ll order you something if I get there first.”

  “Margaritas,” she said immediately. “I’m going to need a lot of margaritas.”

  * * *

  Jane pasted on a smile as she strode into the Sand Bar, a small but trendy bar located right on the boardwalk. The place was busy, filled with a mishmash of patrons, from surfers to a group of suit-clad men who looked like tax lawyers. On the phone, Ryan had told her the place had awesome chicken wings, but Jane was more interested in the alcohol it served. After yesterday’s awful goodbye with Becker, she was looking forward to getting good and drunk.

  Although the magazine had paid for her hotel room until Sunday, she’d already decided this would be her last night in San Diego. She was done with her article
. She was done with Becker. Which meant there was really no reason for her to stick around. Might as well go home, focus on her job, and force herself to forget about the sexy Navy SEAL who’d rocked her world this week.

  Ryan wasn’t inside the bar when she walked in. She searched the crowded room and finally spotted him at one of the outdoor tables on a deck overlooking the ocean. She weaved her way toward him, ignoring the lewd whistle of a guy with spiky platinum hair, and the blatant ogling of a middle-aged man nursing a bottle of beer.

  When she stepped outside, Ryan flashed an endearing grin and got to his feet. He was even sexier than she remembered, and completely opposite from Becker, who was strong and stoic, who exuded raw masculinity. Not that Ryan wasn’t masculine. He had to be, with that lean, rippled body and the sexual energy it radiated, but he was laidback, cool in a very easygoing kind of way.

  A little shiver danced up her spine as she remembered Becker’s cock buried in her ass while she’d used her fingers to mimic Ryan inside her pussy. Arousal drummed through her blood, but quickly faded when she remembered Becker’s subsequent goodbye. If she’d met Ryan first, maybe she would have hooked up with him. Now…well, she didn’t want anyone but Thomas Becker.

  Too bad he didn’t want her.

  “Did you have any problems getting here?” Ryan asked as he pulled out a chair for her.

  The table he’d chosen seated two and was shaded by a huge red umbrella that fluttered in the evening breeze. On the horizon, the sun dipped into the water, filling the sky with brilliant shades of orange and pink. Jane set her purse on the wooden deck and sat down. “None,” she said in response to his question. “I like it here. It’s got a good atmosphere.”

  He sat down again. “That’s why we come here. Oh, this is for you.” He pushed the margarita glass across the table, the liquid coming perilously close to spilling over the rim.

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully. She picked up the glass, tipped it back, and drank nearly half of it.

 

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