Big Guns Out of Uniform - Softcover

Nicole Camden, author of “The Nekkid Truth” in Big Guns Out of Uniform has returned to erotica after a decade of teaching, dog-rescuing, and other mayhem. She lives in Houston with her husband and two dogs.

During her frequent travels through England, Liz Carlyle always packs her pearls, her dancing slippers, and her whalebone corset, confident in the belief that eventually she will receive an invitation to a ball or a rout. Alas, none has been forthcoming. While waiting, however, she has managed to learn where all the damp, dark alleys and low public houses can be found. Liz hopes she has brought just a little of the nineteenth century alive for the reader in her popular novels, which include the trilogy of One Little Sin, Two Little Lies, and Three Little Secrets, as well as The Devil You Know, A Deal With the Devil, and The Devil to Pay. Please visit her at LizCarlyle.com, especially if you're giving a ball.

Sherrilyn Kenyon is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of several series, including the Bureau of American Defense novels BAD Attitude, Phantom in the Night, Whispered Lies, and Silent Truth and the Belador series that includes Blood Trinity, Alterant, and The Curse. Since her first book debuted in 1993 while she was still in college, she has placed more than eighty novels on the New York Times list in all formats and genres, including manga and graphic novels, and has more than 70 million books in print worldwide. She lives with her family near Nashville, Tennessee. Visit her website at SherrilynKenyon.com.

From Bad to the Bone, by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Chapter One

Kyle Foster lay behind a short clump of bushes, scoping out the large compound that lay sheltered in the sand -- his latest target.

It was fifteen hundred hours and all the explosives were rigged. Their timers set. The beach was silent with a mild northwesterly wind that would carry the shrapnel and debris a minimal distance, toward the empty lagoon.

He was watching the countdown on his watch, waiting for something that would alleviate his extreme boredom.

He'd thought it would be the well-placed, perfectly executed explosion.

It wasn't.

At fifteen seconds and counting, disaster struck as an unknown, unexpected civilian popped out of the small wooded area near the compound.

Kyle cursed. There was no way to stop the explosives, and he didn't dare shout at her.

Damn civilians never took orders well. Instead of doing as they were told, they invariably assumed the position of a deer in the headlights and asked, "What?" Which would be followed by the ever aggravating, "Why?"

By then it would be too late.

If he said "bomb," she'd scream and probably run straight for the explosion. Murphy's Law.

He was out of time.

Combat trained and ever ready to fight, Kyle launched himself from his covert position to intercept her before she drew any closer.

He mentally continued the countdown in his head as he ran full speed toward her....

Marianne saw nothing but a blur from the corner of her eye. One second she was heading toward the small sand castle that looked as if someone had constructed it with careful, minute detail. The next some large something had scooped her up into its arms and run off with her.

Breathless from shock and the feel of two extremely strong arms carrying her while the man ran across the beach, she didn't even have time to protest as the two of them flew in the opposite direction of the castle.

Just as they reached the pathway she'd been following, she heard a sharp click.

The man holding her threw the two of them to the ground and rolled them under some bushes as a massive explosion rent the air. The earth beneath them shook.

Her breath was knocked out of her from their fall, and panic welled inside her.

A sleek wall of muscle covered her body again as something began to rain down on the sand around them. She was overwhelmed by the combined scent of Brut, warm masculine skin, and Finesse shampoo.

Marianne instinctively covered her face until the "rain" stopped.

"What in the world just happened?" she asked, her heart pounding as she dared peek from between her fingers.

The man lying on top of her lifted himself up to look down at her.

Marianne gaped.

In all her life she'd never seen anything like him. His eyes were bright and blue. Electrifying and filled with mirthful mischief. They reminded her of the boys in her classes whenever they were planning some youthful prank.

Only there was nothing boyish about the man on top of her. Obviously in his mid-thirties, his face was ruggedly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and at least a full day's worth of stubble on his cheeks and chin.

He was even more handsome than the actor they had playing Brad Ramsey.

And the feel of his long, hard body covering hers...

It was heaven. Pure heaven.

He swept a heated gaze over her face and body before giving her a devilish grin that should belong to the worst sort of Regency rake. Not to mention the fact that his waist was lying between her legs, and she felt a sudden swell pressing against her intimately. One that let her know this was no small man. Nor was he completely uninterested in her.

It was all she could do not to moan in pleasure.

"Hi." The deepness of his voice was as startling as their meeting.

"Hi," she answered back rather lamely.

Kyle tried to remember what the woman had asked him a second ago, but all he could really think of was the peekaboo dimple she had in her left cheek. It flashed at him as she frowned.

Not to mention the fact that she felt damn good underneath him.

Her white tank top had fallen off of one shoulder, leaving it bare where it beckoned him to touch and kiss the smooth skin it revealed.

Her dark brown eyes were warm and friendly with a healthy dose of suspicion in them. She had sleek brown hair that fell around her head, onto the sand. It was the kind of hair a man dreamed of running his hands through. The kind of hair a man liked to feel whipping his chest while the woman who had it sat on top of him, grinding her body against his until they both came.

It took every ounce of control he possessed not to rub his swollen, aching groin against her and dream of sinking himself deep inside her hot, wet body.

Oh, yeah, he so wanted a piece of this woman. One small taste of her lush, soft, feminine curves.

"You...uh...you want to get off me now?" she asked, her voice sounding a bit peeved.

"Not really," he answered honestly. "I kind of like it here." More than he dared admit even to himself.

And he found himself suddenly fixated by the bared skin of her shoulder that didn't seem to betray a bra strap.

Was she naked under there?

His cock tightened even more at the thought of her naked, unrestrained breasts being only a tiny push of fabric away. Of taking one of them into his mouth and suckling its tip while she buried her long, graceful fingers into his hair.

Marianne arched a brow at the man's unexpected response and tilted her head as she watched him. She wasn't sure if this was part of her whole fantasy package or not. What with the explosion and all, it was possible he was one of the actors who had been playing out her novel.

But Rachel Fire hadn't written a scene about a sand castle being blown up.

Then again, there was a scene in a few more days where they blew up a cabin, so maybe the man had been practicing.

At any rate, he was a cutie-pie. Gorgeous in fact. His darkly tanned body held the muscular definition of an athlete. One that begged a woman to run her hands over it.

"You always sweep a woman off her feet like this and throw her on the ground?"

He laughed at that, a warm, rich sound that made her actually tingle. "No, I have to say this is a first. But given how it seems to be turning out, I might make it a habit." He winked at her, then pulled back from her slowly and held his hand out to her as if to shake hers.

"Kyle Foster," he said.

Hmm, not one of the names in the book. Maybe he was one of the extras they had hired to play commando with.

"Marianne Webernec," she said automatically as she shook his large, callused hand and did her best not to think about what it would feel like to have it cup her breast or have those long, masculine fingers sunk deep inside her body.

He had beautiful hands. Powerful hands. Strong and manly, they appealed to her in the best sort of way.

"Oh, wait," she said, trying to distract herself from those thoughts. "I'm supposed to be Ren Winterbourne. Sorry, I keep forgetting."

He scowled at her words. "What are you? A federal agent or something?"

"Something, definitely something." She started to push herself to her feet.

Kyle helped her up with an effortlessness that overcharged her hormones and made her yearn to lean into the strength of his body until she swooned from delight.

What was it about this man that made her want to do him right here on the beach? She'd never been sexually flagrant before, but something about Kyle Foster made her long desperately to rip that tight white T-shirt off and have her way with him whether he wanted it or not.

"You must be from the other side of the island," he said in that innately masculine voice.

He released her all too soon, and she ached from the loss of his body heat being so close. It had warmed her more than the overhead sun.

"Uh-oh. Did I really come all that way? They told me I wasn't supposed to go too far away. Did I end up on the private side of things?"

"Yeah, but it's okay. I'm the only one staying here right now." He glanced around the vacant beach. "It's been boring as hell up until now."

"Tell me about it. For a fantasy vacation, it's been rather meek compared to what I was expecting."

Interest sparked deep in those electric blue eyes. "What were you expecting?"

Marianne squelched a smile. She'd been expecting something along the lines of studly fine Kyle Foster to come into her life and ravish her day and night until she couldn't move, never mind walk.

Marianne bit her bottom lip at the thought and lowered her gaze to the snowy sand to keep him from seeing just how embarrassed she was.

"I don't know," she said with a small shrug. "Some handsome man to throw me down on the ground and save me from an unexpected explosion?"

Kyle laughed again. He didn't know why. Normally, he was about as serious as they came. His sometimes partner, Retter, had often commented on the fact that Kyle's face would freeze if he ever cracked more than a half grin.

But something about this woman made him feel...

Well...

Kind of giddy. There was no other word for it. And he really hated that girly-sounding word. Giddy and Kyle Foster went together about like a cobra and a mongoose.

He must have been even more bored than he suspected. She wasn't ravishing or even beautiful. She reminded him of the woman next door.

A woman who shouldn't draw his notice at all, and yet he found himself staring at her and the way her light, tiny freckles kissed the skin across the bridge of her nose.

Even more startling was the desire he had to taste every one of those freckles with his tongue. To kiss and tease each one and see how many more she might have in other, more provocative areas of her body.

Like those creamy thighs that were virtually hidden by her drab tan walking shorts. Thighs that would look much better naked and wrapped around his neck...

Marianne felt suddenly awkward as she realized the T-shirt Kyle wore displayed more of his muscled chest than i...