At noon, Michael returned to his office. He sprawled in his comfortable leather chair behind a chunky mahogany desk, surrounded on three sides by bookshelves crammed with volumes from all time periods and genres of literature, from Antigone to Zorba the Greek; from Beowulf to The Parrot in the Oven.
Rolling his mouse to activate the computer, he began making up a record-keeping chart and entering students' names in it. A playful knock at his open door interrupted the tedious task. Looking up, he saw Sheridan's golden curls and pinup girl figure outlined from behind by the late summer sunshine pouring through the windows across the hall. She looked like an angel in a knee-length gray pencil skirt and short-sleeved blouse in a delicate shade of blue. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. I have never wanted anything so badly in my life… Oh wait, that's last week's thought. Today, she's mine and I can greet her with a kiss if I want to. How intoxicating.
“Come in. Shut the door, please,” Michael urged. She complied, and he stood, crossing the room in a few long-legged strides to receive the warm hug she offered. He kissed her cheek, enjoying her soft skin beneath his lips, and noticed the sound of paper crackling behind his head.
Releasing her, he saw it was a take-out bag. He smiled, aware of the stretch of muscles pulling at his lips. I’m a little rusty at this smiling thing.
“I bought us some food,” she said unnecessarily, and he could see she felt shy with him today, not sure of what to expect.
He wanted her to be more comfortable, so he kissed her again, on the lips this time. A brief brush since they were at work, but soon he planned to increase the intensity. The thought of what he planned to do, of how her mouth might taste, sent heat boiling through him. I bet she'll like that. I can't wait to find out what it's all about. Meanwhile, the chaste peck had revived her glorious smile, and they walked down the hall to the teachers' lounge, fingers laced together like teenagers.