Duty(11)

Actually, I know what I've been thinking, and that was even before I kissed him. He's hot as hell, and I’m sure there aren’t many girls around here that wouldn’t mind having a little no-strings-attached fun with him for a night. But there’s also something beyond that—something that draws me to him even more, and I can’t put my finger on it.

It was pure torture pulling away after feeling the touch of his lips on mine and the way his tongue would find the little places on my neck that left my body humming for hours afterward. It’s just pure heaven. I've never thought that a woman could come just from petting and kissing, but as good as Aaron is, I'm starting to change my mind on that. It might be possible, because he left me damn near close to coming when I parked my car outside my barracks.

“Hey, Morgan! PFC Morgan? Earth to Morgan!” I look up, seeing Sergeant Greene looking at me with a half-amused, half-annoyed look on her face. “Hey, you okay, or did you party a bit too much over the weekend?”

“Sorry, Sergeant,” I apologize, shaking my head. “I went down to the city. Guess I enjoyed the hockey game too much.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she says with a chuckle. “Probably spent too much time last night thinking about one of them Canadian boys they had on the ice. You know, if you go up to one of them, you'd have no problems about lack of a boyfriend.”

I laugh, shaking my head. Her husband is a nice guy. I met him back when I got stationed at West Point, but he's no athletic stud. He’s a civilian who works in the butcher's department in the commissary, with a big laugh and a bigger belly. “Come on, Sergeant. You really think an NHL guy is going to give up all the rink rats he can get just to try and hook up with a soldier? Especially some admin PFC like me?”

“You might be surprised. Some of ‘em like women who could kick their ass,” Greene replies, grinning. “Here, I've got some paperwork I need you to run over to Mahan Hall. Think you can get it over to Colonel West fourth period?”

I check the clock, then look at the cadet class bell schedule taped on the wall underneath, and nod. “Sure. Anything else?”

“Nope, I can hold it down until you get back,” she says. “Just remember you'll need to walk down there. Mahan's in the no-vehicle area.”

“Roger, Sergeant,” I reply, grabbing my backpack. The requirement that most of the cadet area be only used by emergency vehicles makes taking stuff down there a pain in the ass, but at the same time, I don't mind. The walk's not that bad, and I can enjoy getting out of the office.

When I get to Mahan Hall, I see a swarm of cadets streaming out and around. I guess my timing's perfect. I slow up a little bit, letting the cadets make their way to their next classes before I go in and find Colonel West's office. “Colonel?”

“Ah, you're from the S-1 office?” He says, giving me a smile. He's one of what we on post sometimes call the 'College Colonels,' instructors who have been at the Academy long past when they'd normally be forced to either be promoted or retired in the regular Army.

“That's right, Colonel. If you don't mind, sign here, and I'll be able to get this back to the shop before lunch. We can fax it off ASAP that way and make sure your Captain's taken care of,” I answer, handing him the form. He hums and scribbles his signature on the bottom of the form, handing it back to me. “Thank you, sir.”

“No problem. Thank Sergeant Greene for catching that for me. I feel bad making you come all the way down here for it.”

I shake my head, giving him a smile. “Don't sweat it. I mean, you did get me out of the office for a whole hour now. I'll take the break. Thanks again, sir.”

I leave Mahan Hall, but just as I'm about to leave the cadet area and get back to my office, I hear a wolf whistle that makes my head whip around. I'm nervous enough being in central post because I don't want to run into Aaron while in uniform, but the whistle just makes me jump. I look, seeing a group of four cadets, each of them giving me a leering, admiring look. “Who the f*ck did that?”

“Did what?” one of them asks, grinning.

“The whistle. That's sexual harassment, you jerk!”

“Jerk?” the biggest of the cadets says, laughing. I see his garrison cap with the black shield on it. He's a firstie, a senior. “In four months, that's going to be jerk, sir. Might want to get used to it, pretty lady.”

I'm pissed, but I can see in their eyes that they'll back each other up on this. The Corps may have an honor code, and if there were some officer around to bust their asses, they wouldn't lie about it. But I'm just a small-timer, and they'll take the f*ck off as soon as I ask for a name or go to find someone. Instead, I just turn and head off, pissed.

Walking back toward the office, I get more and more pissed off. Not because of the whistle, which was annoying, but because these guys are supposed to be the future leaders of the Army, the f*cking best and brightest? Fuck me, if that's what the future leaders are like. I'm not sure the Army's in as good a shape as it keeps saying it is.

Sergeant Greene sees I'm pissed when I get back to the office, but I wave it off and she lets me stew. As time passes and four o'clock approaches, I just can't get that *’s comment out of my mind. When Sergeant Greene lets me go, I'm so pissed that I nearly storm back to my room to change. Regardless of whether I'm pissed or not, I agreed to ride with Aaron, and the way I'm feeling, I can use a chance to work off some frustration.