Is that a bang stick in your pocket, or are you just happy
to see me? By Keira Andrews
I’m so thrilled to be a
part of Unconditional
Surrender, an M/M military men bundle! Today let’s talk about military
terms that sound rather, ahem, suggestive. I’m focusing on Canadian Forces
slang, but there might be some crossover.
- Bang stick: Term used for a C7 rifle.
- Belt fed cock: Any punishment or hardship high in intensity, and long in duration. Also used when the punishment or hardship is a structured component of the activity.
- Blanket stacker: A supply technician.
- Buddy fucker: Describes someone who, whether intentionally or not, acts in a manner totally inconsiderate to the welfare of his/her peers, potentially harming them in the process.
- COCK: Confirmation of combat knowledge.
- Cockmeat sandwich: A form of discipline received from more than one superior at more than one occasion for the same incident.
- Crocker cocker: A derogatory term used for the poorly designed ambidextrous cocking handle latch on the upgraded C7A2 rifle, which has the bad habit of getting caught on everything and breaks frequently. Named after the rumoured developer of the latch.
- Double cock: Getting twice the amount of discipline. Or receiving discipline from two people at the same time.
- Fitter and turner: A cook as he fits perfectly good food into pots and turns it into shit.
- Ground pounder: An infantry soldier—a gunner.
- Lone bone: A private bearing one chevron on his uniform.
- Master jack: A master corporal.
- Ring knocker: One who has attended Royal Military College.
- Spare dink: Someone who, at the time being, really does not have a job to do.
What’s your fave military term that sounds rather dirty? I’m all ears! :D
Strong. Sexy. Sizzling.
There’s nothing like a man in uniform, and thirteen of today’s hottest gay romance authors are celebrating military heroes and the men brave enough to love them.
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There’s nothing like a man in uniform, and thirteen of today’s hottest gay romance authors are celebrating military heroes and the men brave enough to love them.
These brand-new novellas feature all branches of the service and offer something for every reader. Almost 300,000 never-before-published words — all for a dollar for a limited time.
Heat rises as the temperature drops
Haunted by what he lost in Afghanistan, Captain Jack Turner is at a crossroads. A routine mission to the Arctic gets him out from behind his boring new desk, but he starts off on the wrong foot with the Canadian Ranger guiding him across the forbidding and dangerous land. Jack doesn’t know where he belongs, but he’d rather be anywhere than sharing a tent with Sergeant Kin Carsen.
The Arctic is in Kin’s blood, and he can’t seem to leave the tundra behind. He wishes he could live openly as a gay man, but the north isn’t as accepting as the rest of Canada. Although he’s lonely, he’s proud of his responsibility as a Ranger, patrolling the vast land he knows so well. But he’s on unfamiliar ground with Jack, and when they’re stranded alone by a blizzard, unexpected desire begins to burn. Soon they’re locked in a struggle to survive, and all these strangers have is each other.
Read
an excerpt from Arctic Fire, part of Unconditional Surrender
Jesus Christ it was cold.
With fingers stiff in his gloves, Jack
flicked on his little flashlight under his sleeping bag. It was only
zero-four-hundred, but it had been dark for so many hours it felt as though the
night would never end. It must have clouded over, since there was no light from
the moon making its way through the tent walls. He shuddered to think of what
it was like in the winter when the sun barely rose at all.
Carefully, he pointed the flashlight
around the tent, aiming it high to avoid waking Kin, who slept peacefully a few
feet away. The red of Kin’s toque peeked out from his sleeping bag, and Jack
could see his closed eyes and his nose. He was breathing deeply and evenly.
The odds of turning on the stove without
waking him were nil, so Jack stayed put, shivering in his sleeping bag. Kin
didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, but Jack’s teeth chattered. He wanted
to wrap himself in one of the pelts beneath them, but the idea of moving out of
his bag was not appealing.
He should have turned off the flashlight
since he was wasting the battery, but he found himself watching Kin sleep. He’d
shared tents with dozens of men over the years, but none had intrigued him like
Kin Carsen did. Not even Grant. He
winced at the familiar sting of guilt twisting in his gut.
His scars flared to life, and he
scrabbled at the back of his neck and shoulder, dropping the flashlight with a
thud, the beam of light spinning around the tent. It was as if his flesh was
burning again, and it prickled unbearably. He yanked off his gloves to scratch
properly, squirming in the tight sleeping bag.
“Jack?” Kin murmured.
“I’m fine,” he gritted out. “Go back to
sleep.”
Kin’s tone was sharp, all drowsiness
vanished. “What is it?”
The light shone in his face, and Jack
squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed into his bag. “I said it’s nothing. Leave
me the hell alone.” He dug his blunt nails into his skin even though he knew it
would pass faster if he left the scars untouched. The doctors said the itching
was all in his head, but it was hard to believe when he trembled with hot
prickles. At least he didn’t feel as cold.
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Then don’t.
I don’t need your help.”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Sir.”
The flashlight snapped off, and when Jack
opened his eyes the tent was black again. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He breathed heavily through his nose, forcing himself to
stop scratching. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, okay? It’s a hundred percent me. I’m
a bag of shit lately.”
There was silence for a long moment.
Then, “Is that the official diagnosis?”
Jack barked out a laugh, some of the
tension leeching from his body. He felt around for his gloves but couldn’t find
them, so he curled his hands against his chest in the sleeping bag. “It should
be. Sorry for being a drama queen. You’re more patient than I would be stuck
with an FNG.”
“You’ll have to enlighten me.”
“Fucking new guy.”
Kin laughed softly, and Jack wished he could
see the little dimples that creased his cheeks. He tried to think of something
else he could say to make him laugh. “I wouldn’t blame you if your GAFF was
pretty low right now.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.”
“Give a fuck factor.”
Kin laughed again, and despite the cold
Jack felt a bloom of warmth in his chest.
“Do you have an army to English
dictionary? My students would love these.”
“No, but someone should write one.”
“Maybe that should be your next
assignment.”
“Maybe.”
Jack breathed easily again. There was
something nice about talking in the dark in their sleeping bags. Reminded him
of when he was a kid sleeping over at Jimmy Leclerc’s house, talking until all
hours of the night on the old shag carpet in the basement. And just like he had
with Jimmy, Jack inched closer to Kin, shifting himself as quietly as possible.
He didn’t know why he had that urge,
since he was a grown man now and he didn’t have the excuse of being afraid of
the dark, or the rumbles and clangs from the Leclerc’s furnace. Outside the
tent there was only the steady whisper of wind. But he still felt drawn to Kin,
and the low sound of his exhalations.
“What’s it like during the midnight sun?
When there’s daylight twenty four hours?”
“It’s…lively. The restaurant at the hotel
is open day and night since there’s always someone awake. I try to keep normal
hours, but it’s hard. There’s a lot more noise, and people out and about. We
pretty much hibernate in the winter and make up for it in the summer.”
“Must be strange. I guess you get used to
it.”
“Yeah. It’s just the way it is. Everyone
has blackout curtains. But there’s always a party going on somewhere. Once—”
Jack waited a few heartbeats. “Once
what?”
“My brother snuck off and went fishing
with his buddies in the middle of the night. They ‘borrowed’ a boat, and of
course they got caught since there they were in the middle of the bay, clear as
day. Even in the winter, there’s always someone watching. Hard to keep secrets
in Arctic Bay.”
“Have you tried?”
Kin was silent for a moment. “Everyone has
something to hide.”
It was all Jack could do not to ask. But
he had his own secrets, and it was best to keep it all locked away, no matter
how safe it felt cocooned in the dark with Kin. Anything Jack said tonight
could haunt him in the dawn.
“That’s why I like coming out here.
There’s only the land, and it keeps all its secrets.”
“How about the polar bears?”
Kin chuckled. “They’re the worst gossips.
Never tell a polar bear something you don’t want the whole world to know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m
shooting the breeze with one.” Jack flexed his fingers, rubbing his bare hands
together. “Christ it’s cold. I dropped my gloves.”
“Here.”
As material rustled, Jack expected the
flashlight to come on. But his heart skipped a beat as Kin spoke.
“Give me your hands.” Kin’s voice was
closer.
Jack’s mouth went dry, and he heard his
heartbeat thumping in his ears the way he could when he wore earplugs on
planes. He shimmied his arms out of the sleeping bag and fumbled for Kin. When
their fingers brushed together, he had to bite back a gasp at the flare of
desire in his belly.
Smoothly, Kin took Jack’s hands between
his and rubbed. He’d taken off his gloves, and he massaged Jack’s fingers. God,
it felt good. Kin’s hands were slightly callused—more so than Jack would expect
from a teacher. Granted he was also a Ranger, but a Saturday soldier didn’t
usually get his hands that dirty.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Frostbite
can happen really easily out here. You have to be careful. Your fingers are way
too cold.”
Jack opened his mouth to give some kind
of excuse, but any words were lost in a strangled gurgle when his index finger
was enveloped by wet heat. Kin sucked, and his tongue swirled around, rough and
slick at the same time. Jack was glad he wasn’t standing, since so much blood
rushed to his cock that he likely would have gotten lightheaded.
Copyright © Keira Andrews
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After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, paranormal and fantasy fiction, and—although she loves delicious angst along the way—Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.” You can find out more about Keira and her books at her website, and on Facebook and Twitter.
Double cock sounds really naughty and so does Cockmeat sandwich. LOL
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Keira. I look forward to reading all your stories.
I love military men because they keep us all safe. There's nothing sexier than protective men. And they are no 1 at protection, right? :)
Kay xx
Yes I Love Military Men. I am married to one. He is a great guy. I love to watch him in uniform.
ReplyDeleteOn average, they are strong, confident, protectors who look sexy in their uniforms! And they take orders well ;)
ReplyDeleteBecause they love to take control and are protective and confident (mostly they are ALPHA males which I love)
ReplyDeleteBecaouse they are protective, strong and alpha in general. What's not to like!
ReplyDelete