I’m so excited to announce that today marks the official release of Evernight Publishing’s Uniform Fetish & Uniform Fetish: Manlove Edition anthologies! My short story, Mile High Rebound, is included in the latter with eight other smokin’-hot tales of love and lust… and hot men in (and out of) uniform!
Uniform Fetish: Manlove Edition
Available: February 27, 2015
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Does the sight of a cop’s badge—or his handcuffs—make your pulse race? Do you drive by your local firehouse just to catch a glimpse of your favorite fireman? Ever peek in the cockpit just to check out the captain?
If you agree the only thing sexier than a man in uniform is a man out of uniform, you’ve come to the right place. We’ve handpicked an assortment of sizzling hot, uniformed heroes to satisfy your uniform fetish.
MILE HIGH REBOUND
“Welcome aboard Air Canada Rouge, sir, can I help you find your seat?”
Oh, now this was too good. Pretty and poorly dressed was working this flight? If I were the praying type, I’d have said a little amen, right then and there. Nothing like having a bit of eye candy as part of the in-flight entertainment.
“I’m good.” I smiled, slowly gave him a head-to-toe once over and winked. I didn’t even try for subtle. Why the hell not? As of a few hours ago, I was single. I had no idea whether or not he was, but honestly? I really didn’t care. I had just enough alcohol buzzing through my blood stream to have my most important extremities on standby for any immediate calls to action.
The blush that almost instantly colored his face was more than a little gratifying. And I wondered how he’d react if I were to lean forward and nip at his lush bottom lip. There’s a thought. Those body parts on standby were definitely at the ready now.
“I’m right there.” I glanced over his shoulder toward the center row of seats, smiled once more and made my way past him and into the plane. I didn’t bother to look back and gauge his reaction. But if I had to guess? I’d bet he was more than a little flustered. Not that I had any intentions beyond a flirtatious smile or two. It was still nice to know that I could snag a hot guy’s attention.
I stowed my blazer and bag in the overhead bin, and as the plane started filling up, I mentally went through the assignments I had coming up. I was grateful to actually have a few days after the wedding to just chill out on the beach and drink a few cervezas. I’d be quite a bit happier if I weren’t headed there alone. But, hey—First World problems.
We ascended toward cruising altitude, and the cabin crew started their In The Event Of An Emergency song and dance number. As luck would have it, Delicious Des was the star of the show, so I settled in and made myself comfortable as he started his routine.
His rich baritone voice belied his slight build and almost pretty features. He had long, lean legs encased in tailored dress pants that seemed at complete odds with the rest of his outfit. His white button-down shirt was completely overwhelmed by a god-awful burgundy sweater that totally obscured any glimpse at what might lie beneath. And a ridiculous pinstriped fedora in the same grey as his pants, along with a burgundy tie with a multi-colored mess of a pattern made him look like some sort of hipster Mister Rogers.
The snicker I let out as a result of my own inner monologue did not go unnoticed. That blush came back in full force, and I was intrigued that I was able to affect this beautiful boy so easily. Despite any embarrassment, though, he locked eyes with me and kept that contact until the end of his spiel.
I’m not going to lie—as fucking cheesy as it sounds, I was entranced.
That voice definitely did something to me, and I was equal parts relieved and disappointed when he ended our smoldering stare-down and ducked into the hospitality area up front. With any luck, though, it meant that the bar cart was about to be wheeled into action. My original plan to arrive at my destination either hammered or hung over was still in play. Only now it would seem there’d be even more entertainment. I had no trouble at all spending the next five or so hours flirting with a beautiful, albeit dreadfully dressed, boy. I never did claim to have any shame.
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