My body seemed to know when the major was around before I did. My nipples got hard before I heard him. My stomach twitched before I smelled him. He didn't try to get me alone again, at least not like that. Perhaps he really did think I was dangerous. He never behaved the least bit inappropriately, except with his eyes. He touched me with them. They burned through my clothes and raked over my flesh with a naked heat that never failed to make the most female parts of me quiver. And gawd damn that man for doing it at the worst possible times. Like in formation. Or when I was trying to explain why I walked into a wall to the first sergeant. But he was just so damned cute when he did it. Well, if you could apply the word cute to a man like that.
He was making it hard to remember that I was supposed to be pissed off at him.
The first thing I did the Wednesday the Colonel officially let me off quarters was head straight for the PX, do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars. I went to the small food court outside of the department store and settled in to eat a hot sandwich straight from the source. A month of mess hall food is nothing short of evil. I had my mouth wide open and the sandwich almost to my lips when I spotted the major. He was leaning against a wall, ostensibly looking at a piece of paper, but his eyes were glued to my mouth. There's nothing quite as embarrassing as having the hottest guy in fifty miles catch you with a dripping meatball sub a half an inch from your mouth. There's just
nothing
sexy about a sloppy meatball sandwich.
I took a bite of the sandwich and tried to pretend he wasn't there. I closed my eyes and savored the spicy sauce. At least I tried to. I opened my eyes wide enough to see that he was still staring at my mouth. Didn't that jackass have anything better to do?
I stared at the sign over the coffee shop kiosk and sucked a meatball out of the sub. I licked the sauce from the bread before it could drip onto the table and pretended that I really did have a great deal of interest in the price of a cup of bad pseudo-Starbucks coffee. My eyes weren't paying attention. They flicked over to the major instead of checking out the price on a double mocha latte.
That look was on his face again. The intense, burning expression that he'd had when I'd been on my knees in the supply room, my tongue reaching for the tip of his penis to catch a drip of his cum, and my hands full of his most private areas. I shifted in my seat, remembering just how good he'd tasted and how good he'd felt sliding into my mouth. I took a bite of the sandwich, trying to force myself to think of anything else, but spicy tomato sauce rolled over my tongue with the same heat and viscosity as his cum. He shifted his weight, jiggling a little, and dropped the paper in front of his crotch. He was hard. I knew it. Just like that, I wanted to throw myself at him, rip off his clothes, and take his erection into me.
I closed my eyes, bringing up a montage of images. The major diffidently shoving his pants down in the cabin, then standing over me like a pagan warrior. The major in the shower, his head thrown back in pleasure, water dripping down his body. The major in the dusky supply room, fully dressed but for his indecently opened fly and his---
"Wright? Hey, they turned you loose."
I blinked my eyes, trying to reconcile reality again. Bradford.
He dropped down into the chair in front of me, setting his headgear on the table next to mine. He flashed me a smile and leaned on the table. "I haven't seen you in a while. I missed you, baby."
I opened my mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a thing. Instead, I put the sandwich down and wiped my fingers. "It's been a while." Gawd, I was such a brilliant conversationalist. Stupid, Wright, very stupid.
He stiffened imperceptibly. "You didn't miss me."
"No, no, it's just that it's been a real shitty month for me."
He smiled, relaxing. "Yeah, I bet it has. What happened, anyway? Jones didn't know. No one seemed to know." He suddenly frowned, his voice dropping. "It wasn't that prick major who---"
---was suddenly walking in our direction---
"---caught us that night. I'd hate for you to get in trouble because of me."
"It wasn't anything like that. I yelled at an officer." I hated to admit anything like that, but Bradford looked like he was beating himself up over it.
"You yelled at an officer? Damn, Wright."
I blushed. "Yeah, well, I have a temper."
Bradford grinned. "I love your temper. I gotta get back to the company, but I'll call you later, okay? Maybe we can do something this weekend."
I forced a smile. "Yeah, maybe."
He squeezed my hand, running his fingers over the knuckles. It was pretty much against regs to have public displays of affection in uniform or he probably would have kissed me. "I'll call you, baby," he said, then left.
I tried to smile at Bradford as he went, but the major was stalking his way through the tables. I considered running for the door, but I didn't think I could outrun him.
"Private Wright," the major hissed, bringing himself to a halt. I was forcibly reminded of a bull on the neighbors ranch that habitually charged the fence only to come to a sudden stop, dust flying, hot breath searing the air in an enraged snort, and its lips curled in an I'm-gonna-get-you snarl. Just over fifteen hundred pounds of enraged male meat stopped by five strings of insignificant barbed wire had a way of putting the fear of pissed-off bull in a person.
"Good afternoon, sir," I said as if he wasn't clenching his fists and growling at me.
"I thought I told you to stay away from the specialist." Oh hell no, he wasn't going there.
"I'm off duty, sir." I kept my voice mild and pleasant, but it was difficult.
"When I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed." He was going there. That fucking jerk.
"Sir, I'm off duty and
in a public place
." Get the fucking message, sir. "The specialist and I were just having a conversation."
The muscles in his jaw twitched. "Being in a public place didn't stop you last time you mounted him, private."
I opened my fist up one finger at a time and forced myself to relax. I drew in a deep breath and stared at the tabletop. Not here, Wright. "Yessir."
"Good. Now obey a direct fucking order, Wright, or I'll have your ass."
My ass wasn't the one that was going to be had. I ground my teeth and swallowed the fresh rush of anger. If he thought a couple of fucks mean he owned me, he had another thing coming. "Yessir."
"Everything all right here, major?"
Fucking great, the first sergeant. I kept my face down and concentrated on making myself as pleasant as possible. There was no way in hell I was gonna put my ass in a sling over this, this
bull
shit.
"Everything is just fine, Top." The way the major snarled that sure didn't sound fine.
The first sergeant frowned. At
me
. "Private Wright giving you more trouble?"
"Not at all."
I gathered my courage up. "Sir, my lunch hour is almost over. I have to get back to work, sir."
First sergeant's frown deepened. I dropped my eyes back to the half-eaten sandwich and wished that the world would just swallow me whole. "Major?"
The major flexed his fists again. "All right, private. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir." It nearly choked me to say it. I pulled myself up onto my crutches, careful to avoid looking at either of them, and gathered up the tray. The major's hands made an abortive effort to reach for the tray and the first sergeant grunted. I hobbled away with two sets of eyes burning holes in my back.
What in the hell was his problem?
The first sergeant stepped into my office a couple of hours later. "What's going on, Wright?"