The Intern

Chapter 3

I had never thought of myself as the stalking type.

Somewhere between the 62nd and ground floors of Trost Tower, I had convinced myself that I was going to the gym so that I could work out - for health reasons, of course. I was wearing dark blue jeans and a brown shirt, neither of which were suited for a heavy work out session, or so I assumed. I had never set foot into Trost's top-rated gym, and I had only a faint notion of how to find its location. Nevertheless, I was certain that I was going to the gym to get a rock hard body. And that wasn't entirely a lie. The rock hard body I was after just didn't happen to be mine.

The sadistic midget had taken up residence in my head and he was refusing to leave. I had tried everything to forget him after he had sent my teenage hormones spiraling down into a pool of primal need. I don't think I ever fully understood the definition of the word 'lust' until his body had been pressed against mine. When I felt those words reverberate in his chest and exhale in a throaty purr at my ear, I knew I had no way of turning back.

"Call me Corporal."

I groaned and pressed my face into my hands. I could still hear the request as if he were standing right at my side. The voice had been in my dreams, taunting me. While I had been grateful for a break from the heart-wrenching nightmares that had occupied my dreams for the past three months, I was not as thrilled to have another set of sheets to clean. I thought about sending him a dry cleaning bill, considering it was his fault. Of course, I would never have the courage to do something like that. I was lucky I was able to form words around him at all. If things kept up the way they were, I would be left babbling in the corner of the elevator.

I had been through about a dozen porn sites by the time I realized no amount of boobs would ever be able to erase his face from my mind. Every time I allowed myself to drift into a sexual fantasy, there he was with that long black hair and those smoldering blue eyes. At first I had thought that it was the hair that was messing with my mind. He had a slender shape and a short stature, and combined with the long hair I could have almost mistaken him for a girl. But it was that detailed chest and husky voice that made my knees want to resign from their job of holding me up. No girl stood a chance, and by the end of every fantasy I was crying out, muffled into my pillow, the only name I had to call him by.

Corporal. What kind of name was that, anyway? Obviously it wasn't his real name, and I didn't think for a moment that it was. As far as fake names went, it was the worst and he had to realize that. But the way he had whispered the name into my ear told me that there was so much more to it. His voice had sent shivers down my spine for reasons other than the fact that he sounded like melted chocolate when he spoke.

There was a command in his voice; one that made me want to get on my knees because somehow I knew that was what he wanted. It was the command that had me walking towards the gym, hoping beyond hope that he would be there.

He wasn't.

I stood in the doorway of the gym, feeling the heavy weight of disappointment settle into my gut. There were three girls lifting little pink weights, all of them standing in front of the window that offered a view of the pool. I had come down here for nothing, and I had no idea when I would be able to catch another glimpse of him. Maybe this was for the best, though. The more I avoided him, the easier it would be to get him out of my system. This obsession couldn't be healthy, and it was important that I kick the habit before it started.

I turned away from the door to head back toward the elevator.

"He looks so good! Do you think he'll come in here next?"

I stumbled and grabbed the door before it could close on my hand, and looked back towards the girls who were still fixated on the pool. Following their eyes, I could understand why they were standing where they were. It offered the perfect view of the Corporal, who was currently poised on the edge of the diving board. I noted that his hair was hidden beneath a black swimming cap, but it didn't detract from his appeal. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and it must have died there because I couldn't drag in another ounce of air. My poor lungs.