Jealousy With a Halo - Part Two - Face

Face:-
In all honesty, I could murder a shower. I mean, sex is great, it’s gotta be my all time favourite leisure time activity, especially when it’s with the boss, but it does create all this... well... mess. And heading in for breakfast with all that stuff all dried inside my jeans... yeah, not nice at all.

 

But seeing Hannibal was more of a priority at the time.

 

He is so paranoid about this thing we have got going. I mean, I see where he’s coming from, and I’m not desperate to get thrown out on a DADT rap myself, but I think he does go over the top a little sometimes. You think that if people notice I’ve stop pulling skirts they’ll automatically assume that my CO is regularly nailing my ass? No, me neither, but Hannibal does.

 

So, he came up with this crazy ‘smokescreen’ plan that I’m suppose to play along with which involves me continuing to shag my way round the base, and to be honest, I don’t see the point myself. I don’t mind so much; as I’ve said, I love sex, but I’d still rather be doing it with the boss. Exclusively. He’s the best I’ve ever had, and, well, if I am honest with myself, for me, there’s a hell of a lot more to it than that. But this is what he wants me to do and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep the old man happy. Nothing. Ever.

 

So now I’m leaning against the wall, just round the corner from the mess, hoping I know him as well as I think I do, and that he’ll come flying out any second now. There’s obviously something on his mind, I noticed he’d hardly touched his breakfast and he seemed a bit tense. We haven’t had a mission for a while, maybe it’s that – he always gets a bit antsy when we’re sitting around too long.

 

The swing doors burst open and I can’t hide the smile as I see him striding down the road towards me. He’s so predictable... I slide back into the shadows and wait, grabbing him firmly round the bicep as he goes past and yanking him into my little space between the storage containers, stepping back as his hand is suddenly around my throat and my head hits the container with a dull thud.

 

Our faces are just inches apart as I see the recognition flicker across his expression and offer up my sweetest smile, even though my heart is pounding with both fear and arousal.

 

“Fucking hell, Face,” he growls at me, “You trying to get yourself killed?”

 

My hands reach out and grab his hips, yanking him close to me so that he can feel how much I’ve missed him, “Oh, I’m not worried,” I know my ‘bed’ voice always gets him going, “Your control is legendary Colonel.”

 

“And so is your whoring about...” I laugh feeling his solid length pushing into my thigh; God, I’ve missed him. I wish we were out of this stupid fish tank camp, too many eyes, too much to lose. We need some space.

 

I pull him in, slowly rocking my hips against him, lifting my face and closing my eyes, and there he is, fierce and possessive and just so damn hot as he almost eats me alive. But all too soon he’s gone and there’s another thud as my head hits the container for the second time in as many minutes.

 

“You still stink of perfume...” he mutters as he takes a step away.

 

“Still not showered!” I remind him, “Wanted to see you...” I reach up and trace my fingers gently down the side of his face but he grabs at them, stilling my exploration and stares at me, like he’s trying to work me out.

 

“Hurry up,” he barks as he steps away, “I want you ready in twenty minutes, lieutenant,” and then he is gone.

 

That familiar sting of rejection slaps me in the face before I remind myself, that, no, this is Hannibal and he wouldn’t do that to me. I give him a minute’s start before I slip out and head back to my quarters, adjusting my jeans as I go. Looks like a cold shower is on the agenda for this morning...  

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