“Holy shit.” I almost drop the picture. The smoking-hot redhead looking back at me cannot possibly be real. She’s a fucking knockout. I walk over to my door and lock it before returning to my desk. It’s not twenty seconds from the time I see her picture to when I’m sitting at my desk and stroking my cock. I look into her eyes while I fist myself up and down, squeezing tight as I look at her rosy cheeks and picture her under me. The small hint of cleavage at the top of her cardigan makes it all the sexier. Just that tiny bit makes me crave her even more as I imagine tasting her there.
I grunt out my orgasm, and cum runs down my cock and over the knuckles of my clenched fist. I’ve made a mess of myself, and I can’t be bothered to care. She’s so fucking gorgeous, I had no choice. I had to beat off so I could think straight. And even now, just seconds after cumming, I’m still hard as a rock and wanting to go again.
“Letter. I need to write a letter.” I give myself a pep talk as I clean up and try to come back down to earth. Goddamn, that was intense.
Sitting back down at my desk, I read Katie’s letter about a dozen more times as I eat her cookies. I’m making myself sick with how fast I’m eating them, but I can’t make myself stop. I know I’ll regret it when they’re gone, but right now they’re amazing and I won’t quit.
Once I know what I’m going to say, I start writing.
Dear Katie,
I’ve heard the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so I’m just going to go ahead and send it to you in this letter. Your cookies are fantastic! How do you not own your own bakery? I’ve eaten almost all of them and the box arrived about ten minutes ago. I should be ashamed of that, but I’m not. Thank you for sending them. You have no idea what they did to me.
As for this little picture you sent me, I’m having a hard time making you out clearly. Do you think you could send me a few more? Maybe my eyesight has been affected by the incredible beauty looking back at me, but I could be mistaken. I’ll need at least five more pictures of you to compare. For science.
But in all seriousness. You’re gorgeous, and I’m supremely glad you’re single. I’d hate to have to take out the competition.
I’ve included two pics of me. One from combat out in the desert next to a tank, and the other is my military picture taken of me in my dress blues. The Marine Corps ball is held every year on the Marine Corps birthday, and if you’re home you’re required to attend. I’ve always just gone alone, but I guarantee with you on my arm, there would be a scene.
I don’t have a lot of free time, but when I do have it I work out and try to sleep. We all take long watches that go through the night, so when I’ve got time, I try to rest up and keep my body in shape. I’m more obsessed about it now because I’m on active duty, but I have a feeling if I was home, I might be spending my time sitting outside your kitchen window, begging for scraps.
When I’m on watch, I spend a lot of time thinking. And to be honest, I’ve spent a good portion of that time lately thinking of you. I don’t know what it says about me to admit that, but for some reason it feels like I want to tell you everything that pops into my head.
I think you’d be an adorable little mama to a puppy, but I think you’ll need someone to be the heavy if you can’t do it. Wonder where you could find such a man…
Now, let’s get to know one another…tell me everything.
Mark
And I didn’t forget the PS. Just not sure you’re ready to read it yet.
PS…
CHAPTER FIVE
KATIE
“Come on, show them to me.” Tammy wiggles her eyebrows at me like she’s asking me to show her my goodies. And I don’t mean the last batch of baked goods I just pulled out of the oven.
“No, they’re private.” I can feel my face warming just talking about the letters.
“Oh, my God. Are they dirty?!” Her face lights up like she just struck gold.
“No, not really.” They really aren’t dirty at all. Maybe a few innuendoes here and there. One time I did admit to never having been with a man. I seem to be willing to tell him everything about myself, no matter how embarrassing it might be.
“Then what’s with the blush?” She grabs her wine off the coffee table and takes a sip, leaning back on the sofa.
Tammy, as usual, kind of popped up on me. I usually keep all of Mark’s letters in box in the living room, but I had them all splayed out on the coffee table as I reread each one while drinking a glass of wine. It’s something I find myself doing more and more often these days. My Kindle hasn’t been switched on in weeks.
I’d hurriedly gathered them up, putting them back safely into the box while she eyed me, helping herself to her own glass of wine.
Now we’re both sitting on the sofa as she tries to pry about Mark. I share everything with Tammy, but for some reason the letters are now off-limits. They’re mine, and I don’t want to share. I’ve never been jealous over a man before. The feeling is strange and oddly enough, I like it.
“I think I’m in love with him,” I admit, feeling a little silly. I’ve never even met the man.
“You think?” She says it with a teasing laugh, but I can’t seem to join in.
I just bite my lip, not sure what to do at this point.
“You don’t think it’s silly I’m in love with a man I’ve never met?”
Her eyes soften at my question. Placing her glass back down on the table, she turns to look at me.