Page 4 of The Commander

I pocket my phone in the pockets of my brown fatigues and grab my gym bag. I’m still in my boots and army green sweatshirt, but now I don’t have time to change, so I rip open the door and spin around with my bag on my shoulder, and—

“Lieutenant!” the familiar deep voice cries.

Shit.

“Sorry, Commander!” I spin around, whacking it into him a second time.

I attempt to salute him, get tangled, and fight my hormones as Captain Jenkins lifts my bag off my shoulder as if it’s nothing more than a napkin and drops it on the floor.

His eyes run over my body from head to toe.

Which, given I’m doing the same thing to him, it’s amazing I even notice.

I notice everything.

“Um, sir, have you approved my leave?”

His nostrils flare, and I cross my arms because I’m sure it’s due to my hard nipples. It’s ninety today, so they have nothing to do with the weather.

“Follow me, Parker.”

I’d rather not.

Being in close quarters with my hot commanding officer is never a good idea. That room has been the object of many of my dreams.

“I was just headed to the gym,” I say, picking up my bag and racing to follow him down the hall, where I step into his office after him.

The door clicks shut.

“I can see that.” Captain Jenkins’ gorgeous brown eyes flick to mine with a smirk as he rounds the desk. “You might be surprised to know I’ve been trained to pay attention.”

To me? I want to ask.

“Of course, sir.”

He digs through some papers, glancing up at me.

“Relax, I’m playing with you, Parker.” He laughs.

God, I wish you would.

My core clenches, sending my body temperature through the roof. I let out a breath that lifts my hair and fans my face. “Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here.”

“Are you sick?” Captain Jenkins drops the papers and circles the desk. Then his hand is on my forehead, and he’s frowning. “You’re hot.”

I don’t know what makes me say what I say next, but I am no saint, and this attraction between us is no secret. The chemistry has been building for a long time. We stand too close. Linger when we shouldn’t.

“Thank you. I know.” A cheeky grin accompanies my words.

As his large palm remains on my forehead, our gazes lock, my cheeky smile fades, and I realize my error as his enormous frame and masculine scent engulf me.

The line that could be crossed here is so fine, so close, so enticing. But the power imbalance and non-fraternization rules of the military linger between us like a brick wall.

Noah’s eyes dip to my lips, which I lick, not realizing I’ve done it until it’s too late.

I know what he’s thinking about.

I’m thinking it, too.