The Recruiter (slightly revised)

                                                                     The Recruiter

                                                                             *1*

          I pulled into the strip mall parking lot. My destination was the grocery store in the middle but I parked my Jeep on the far side of the lot.  Why? I like the scenery over here.

The military recruiter offices are on this end of the building. Yummy guys in uniform, to be more specific a yummy Marine in cammo. I’ve been admiring him for a while now. Sometimes, he runs on the treadmill in his office wearing nothing but shorts and tennis shoes. On those days, he’s not the only one feeling hot and sweaty, if you know what I mean.

 He’s about six feet tall, golden blonde hair, every muscle defined and skin tanned to a glorious golden hue. I have no idea what color his eyes are. Every time I’ve been close enough to tell he has been wearing sunglasses, too far away to tell for sure or had his back to me. Believe me the view from the back is good too. With wide shoulders and a nice ass, he’s all around hot. 

Oh yeah, baby, I definitely like the view from this side of the lot. Not that I was planning on doing anything but looking. I haven’t even had any kind of conversation with him. I’ve passed him on the sidewalk when he’s jogging. I’ve seen him in the grocery store, restaurants, the movie rental place and even the local watering hole. He always gives me this sexy half smile and says, “Hi.” The only reason I know his name is it’s written on his uniform.

I have a guy all ready. He’s not built like the recruiter but he’s not bad looking or anything. It’s just that sometimes he’s . . . not what I want. Lately I’ve been wondering if we’ll be together in the next hour, let alone next week. He just doesn’t make me want to clear off the nearest flat surface so we can get freaky. Hell, he  doesn’t really make me want to get naked at all. Sex isn’t even on the agenda in our relationship. He’s not all that great a boyfriend either, going out with his buddies on my birthday kind of proves that. A guy like the recruiter, he’s probably passionate, aggressive and really knows how to drive you wild.

I’ve fantasized about this hot guy in cammo several times. In those steamy episodes, he’s scorching hot and isn’t afraid to push me to my sexual limits. Ah, if only . . .

I swing open my door and get out, smoothing down the short ruffled skirt I’m wearing. It’s paired with a matching tank top and strappy wedges. I run my hand through my light auburn shoulder length hair and take off my sunglasses exposing my light brown eyes. Only then do I let myself glance over at the offices. Now would you look at that? He’s sitting behind that big desk facing the window. And there’s the wave. I wave back and head into the store.

It is girl’s night and my birthday. Also, it’s my turn to buy the beer. My friend Rachael and I are heading out for a night of dancing but we like to start early. She’s never ready on time and while I’m waiting for her, we have a few drinks. Why just the two of us? It seems that my birthday is the ideal weekend to get out of town with your significant other. That leaves me and Rachael. Me because my boyfriend is a loser, I really need to dump him. Rachael because she is not the kind of friend you can trust. She’s the kind of friend that is just out for a good time.

I put the six pack of beer in the back seat. The task is made easier by the fact that the top is down and I can just set it down with out juggling the beer, my keys and purse. I open my door, trying not to glance over my shoulder at the wide window emblazoned with U.S.M.C. My purse starts playing “Party Starter” by Will Smith. Rachael is calling. I answer and listen for a few minutes. Damn, damn, damn . . . she cancelled. I’ve been dropped for a booty call. My guy went to the strip club with his buddies, leaving me alone on my birthday. I press my forehead to the edge of the open door. Should I just bash my self with it now? I must really have some bad karma or something.

A deep voice comes from behind me. “Are you ok?”

          I gasp and spin around, losing my balance. Strong hands catch me and I crash into a firm, broad chest. Well, hello there my body shouts. I look up into the most beautiful dark grey eyes I’ve ever seen. (Yes, even in three inch wedges, I still have to look up.) They are surrounded by golden lashes and currently watching me intently. The recruiter has his hands on my arms and I’m pressed against his solid chest. I take back the comment about bad karma. My karma, at this moment, is outstanding!

I reluctantly pull back from that warm and inviting chest. I note that he hasn’t let go yet. He gives me that half smile and I feel my insides start to melt. Down girl, we have to have a coherent conversation here.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” He said that smile widened and dimples appeared in his cheeks. “You looked kinda upset.”

Oh right, he’s waiting for an answer. “Yeah . . . just got some bad news. I’m Ok, really.” I watch those stormy eyes meander down to my feet and back. I return the favor, noticing the tight red t-shirt and the faded blue jeans. 

“Maybe you should come in out of the heat. The air is on in my office.” He gestured to the building.

I look over at those wide windows noticing I can’t see inside anymore. All I can see is the reflection of me and him. His hands are resting on my upper arms, I’m standing barely an inch away from him.  And I think, “Why not?” I return my gaze to him and find he’s looking at me expectantly. “OK. Just for a few minutes.” We walk toward the building and he rests his hand on my lower back. When we reach the glass door he opens it and stands aside to let me enter first. What a gentleman. His hand returns to my back as the cool air washes over me. I shiver a little, not sure if it’s from the contact of his hand or the chill of the office. OK so it’s not the cold air. The office is a little dim, the only light coming in from the windows.

“Too cold?” He asks as he guides me over to the chairs by his big wooden desk.

“No, I just need to adjust to the drop in temperature.” I reply, hoping he doesn’t notice my hard nipples through my shirt. I catch him glancing at my chest as he walks by me. I just can’t win today.

“You want something to drink?” He asks as he steps through a doorway at the back of the room and out of sight. “I’ve got water and . . . water. Sorry not much of a selection.”

“Water would be fine.” I say as I sit in the padded chair. I drop my purse on the desk and watch as he comes out of the doorway. He hands me a bottle and opens the one in his hand and takes a sip then sits on the edge of the desk right next to my purse.

“So  . . .” He trails off. Then he sets the bottle next to my purse and stands up and pulls me to my feet. He takes my water and puts it on the desk too. He slides one of his hands around the back of my neck and the other wraps around my waist, resting on my lower back. He pulls me closer and his lips descend to mine. His mouth brushes back and forth lightly and then presses. His tongue slides against my lips and I open my them. Before I can take a breath he is devouring my mouth. After I’m almost boneless he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t even know your name but I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”

“Holly, my name is Holly Myer.” I say in a daze. “I know your last name. It’s on your uniform . . . Johnson.”

He presses a light kiss to my lips, “Hi Holly, I’m Gage.”

He kisses me again and we stand pressed together kissing, our hands exploring. I want nothing more in that moment than to coax him to lie back on that wide desk and climb on top of him. As his hand edges under the hem of my tank top, my cell phone rings. My stupid boyfriend’s ring tone startles us apart. I pull the phone from my purse and press ignore, sending him to voice mail. Gage and I look at each other then he breaks the silence, “Let me guess you have to go.” His big hand rubs over the top of his head in obvious frustration.

“Yeah. I have something to take care of. Would it . . .” I pause, take a deep breath and start over, “Would it be ok if I come back?” I decide that now is the perfect time to act on my impulses. After all, today is my birthday.

Gage looks surprised and quickly says, “Yes. Let me give you my number and you can just let me know when you are done with what ever it is you have to do.” I hand him my phone and he puts in the number. As I leave, I look back. I will definitely be back to finish what he started.

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