I prop my head up on my hand and stare at him. He’s perched on the corner of Harriet’s desk listening to her tell of A.J.’s latest escapade.
I love the ease with which he carries himself. I get turned on when I see him in that uniform. Something about a man in uniform.
I worship what’s underneath that uniform. His long muscular arms that hold me close. The planes of his chest. The softly coarse hair blazes a trail that ends in ecstasy. Those lean legs that always bring him back to me.
I worked hard and waited a long time to see all that was hidden. The work was worth it. The wait is something I try to put out of mind. I focus on the here and now.
Now he’s coming my way.
He leans on the door jamb, “Whatcha thinkin’, Colonel?”
“About how pretty you are underneath your clothes,” I sigh.