Thursday, March 2, 2017

A CONVERSATION FROM STARK SEPTEMBER BY CD BRADLEY

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“Kira collected herself and walked into Room 3. As she opened the door her senses were alive with the smell of him: his body wash, his cologne. The smell was intoxicating. Her heart stopped. There, on the exam table in his underwear, was this god of a man, staring at her with those eyes. She could feel herself being pulled into them. A small brown fleck stood out like a cliff in the crystal waters. What she wouldn’t give to… Oh, Jesus. I am a professional, I am a professional. I can do this. She crossed the room to her desk, looking anywhere but at him. She did her best to appear calm and in control, although she felt like a befuddled mess on the inside. How is it possible for him to look that good? The room felt much warmer.
“So you’ve just returned from a mission?” she began. That’s it—calm, collected. “Something like that,” he said calmly, a slight grin on his face. He seemed to be enjoying her obvious abashment.
“Were you out of the country long?” “I’m not at liberty to say,” he replied coolly.
“What sort of environment were you in?” she asked, trying to get an understanding of disease processes about which she should be concerned. Smiling, he replied,
“Captain, you don’t have clearance for that kind of information.”
“OK, then. Have you been exposed to malaria, dengue fever, sand fleas, gonorrhea, chlamydia, or HIV?” she snapped, frustrated by the game he seemed to be playing. Chuckling, he replied “Yes, yes, no, hope not, hope not, and no.
You haven’t been in the military very long, have you?” His eyes sparkled with mischievousness. He was enjoying the game. “No,” she answered, somewhat contritely. She tried another line of questioning.

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