Getting Hotter (Out of Uniform #8)

Wow. Just wow.

Then again, it probably shouldn’t surprise her that Seth had entered into this relationship with the same gung-ho attitude and intensity that he committed to all his other endeavors. The man never ceased to amaze her, though. This past month, he’d completely debunked her conviction that bad boys made terrible boyfriends. He’d been attentive, sweet, quick to offer his assistance, and more than willing to hang out with the twins while Miranda was at work.

She wasn’t sure if he’d finally let go of the guilt and blame, or if maybe the simple act of sharing his grief with her had lightened some of that load, but ever since the night he’d told her about his brother, Seth had become a different person around her kids. He played catch with Jason, attended Sophie’s tea parties, took them out for ice cream. Sometimes he picked them up from kindergarten if he finished early at the base, other times he’d surprise them in the evening by showing up with dinner.

No doubt about it, Miranda was enjoying this new lighthearted Seth. But that didn’t mean the old Seth had up and disappeared—her mocking, arrogant badass still simmered beneath the surface, usually making an appearance at night, when the twins were asleep and he could have his wicked way with her.

Come to think of it, that sounded very appealing at the moment. Maybe after she dragged him away from the sewing machine they could find some time to be wicked to each other.

When she got home, her daughter greeted her at the door, beaming like a Christmas tree. “Look, Mom, Sef fixed it!”

Sophie did a little spin. The sequins on the top half of her leotard winked in the hall light, while the filmy blue skirt swirled around her knobby knees.

“Let me see.” Miranda stilled her daughter’s twirling body and squatted down to search for the damaged part of the fabric, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find it.

“That good, huh?”

She lifted her head to see Seth smirking at her. His black hair had grown out over the past month, curling under his ears in a scruffy way, and he wore his trademark black T-shirt and cargo pants. With his feet bare and his jaw prickly with beard growth, he made a seriously sexy picture.

“I can’t find a single flaw,” she admitted. “The stitching is impeccable.”

“That’s because I’m awesome.” He shot her a cocky grin.

Rolling her eyes, Miranda stood up and reached for her daughter’s hand. “You should be in bed,” she said. “It’s past nine. Where’s Jase?”

“Already in bed,” Seth replied. “I tucked him in a while ago. But Soph was too excited to sleep.”

“I get to dance tomorrow!” Sophie said happily.

Miranda smiled. “Yes, you do. And you know what you get to do now?”

“What?”

“Sleep,” she said sternly. She glanced at Seth. “I’ll be back. Thanks for taking care of that costume.”

“My pleasure.” His eyes smoldered the second the word pleasure left his mouth.

Their gazes collided. Miranda’s entire body got warm and tingly as anticipation began to form.

“Come on, Soph, time for bed.”

She practically dragged her daughter away, while Seth’s soft chuckle wafted from behind.

As she and Sophie reached the twins’ bedroom, Miranda’s cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and checked the display, grinning when she saw who it was from.

When the message came up, she nearly choked on her own tongue.

Taking a quick shower. Wait for me in bed. Be naked.

Her cheeks heated up, then burned hotter when his follow-up text beeped in.

And don’t even think about getting yourself off before I get there.

Oh my.




Miranda had left her bedroom door ajar when Seth skulked up to it wearing nothing but a towel. His footsteps made no sound on the hardwood, his breathing so quiet he himself couldn’t hear it. One of the many benefits of being a SEAL—he could transform into a ghost when he wanted to.

He peered through the crack in the door, hot lust clamping over his groin like an iron fist when he saw what Miranda was up to.

She was naked just as he’d ordered, her long, golden limbs sprawled on the puffy white comforter. She lay in the ultimate pinup girl pose, with one arm crooked behind her head, her legs parted and a knee propped up, providing him with a candid view of her delectable pussy. Her eyes were closed, her perfect breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She was stroking herself, but he could tell it wasn’t a race to the finish. More of an idle exploration, fingers lightly brushing her clit and gliding up and down her slit.

As his cock thickened beneath his towel, he stepped into the bedroom without making a sound. Miranda didn’t stir and her eyes remained shut. He would’ve loved to announce his presence by latching his mouth on her clit, but the bedroom door decided to betray his presence—it creaked the second he started to close it.