PS... You’re Mine (2 page)

“
W
hat’s this
?” Tammy picks up the letter that has been sitting on my kitchen counter for three days now. I’m a little ashamed of how much wear the thing has gotten. Three days and I’ve read it probably thirty times.

“Drop it.” I point my cookie-dough-covered finger at her, which seems to have no effect, because she keeps reading the letter, a smile on her face. It makes me wonder if I looked just as goofy every time I’d read the thing.

“Wow. Six-five. That’s freaking huge. That’s more than a foot taller than you.” She eyes me up and down like she’s taking in my height for the first time.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying he sounds like one of those guys who could pick you up and fuck you against a wall.”

“Your husband is barely six foot; how do you know anything about wall-fucking?” I tease, because Tammy herself is almost six feet tall.

“He doesn’t fuck me against walls, but he fucks me everywhere else.” She wiggles her eyebrows, letting me know that not having wall-fucking in her life isn’t that big of a deal. “I’m just saying, you could do some wall-fucking and tell me if it really works like in all those books we read.”

I giggle at her. Tammy is my best friend, and we’re about as opposite as two people can get. She’s tall where I’m short, she’s got blonde hair where mine is bright red, and I seem to have all the curves, even though she eats my cooking just as much as I do because she lives next door and is always stealing food right out of my fridge, even when I’m not even here.

But what really makes us different is our personalities. She loud and bold and doesn’t have one shy bone in her body. There’s no filter from her mouth to her brain, and I adore her for it. She talks about sex as much as I talk about baking. Maybe that’s another reason I’m still hanging on to my V-card. With all her sex talk, I often feel like I know all about it. Every single detail.

“Give it up already. Don’t make me beg. I only do that in the bedroom.”

“Pretty sure I’ve seen you beg for food.”

“Don’t change the subject. Who’s this giant writing you dirty letters?”

“That was not dirty,” I retort, but hide my smile by looking down and rolling the cookie dough into perfectly spherical balls. I’ve been so giddy over the letter. It’s as if it really was a love letter or something.

“He was describing his bod for you. Sounds like it’s dirty to me! Even more so when the letter is for you. Now, give it up.”

I bite my lip, trying not to rock a stupid giant smile like I do every time I think about the letter.

“It’s silly. I did one of the pen pal letters with the class, and that was the letter I got back. But now I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, which, like I said, is silly. It’s just a note, no big deal.” When I look over at her, her face is all soft. “What?” I ask, wanting her to stop looking at me like that. For some reason I’d rather have a dick joke right now than that look.

“You’re all dreamy over some guy. I like it on you. Your face is so warm, it’s glowing. It’s sexy.”

I snort at the word. No one has ever thought of me as sexy.

“I’m warm because I’m baking.” I place the cookie balls on the baking sheet and slide them into the oven. I make my way over to the sink and wash the rest of the dough off my hands.

“What’s with the blank PS?”

I shrug, having wondered myself. Then her gaze darts over to the Polaroid camera sitting on the counter, and her eyes widen.

“You were going to take a picture!”

“Was not,” I lie.

“You freaking liar. How many have you taken already and trashed?”

I scrunch my face at her and glare, but she just bursts out laughing. Because she’s right. There are about twenty pictures in the trash can at this very moment.

“Let me do it. Come on. I’ll make sure you look hot.”

“I changed my mind. Besides, it’s not about looking hot. We’re just pen pals.”

“The man wants a pic. He’s serving our country. I feel it’s your duty to let me take a picture of you to send him. Just think about the poor man over there, pining away for a picture of you.” She says it like she really feels sorry for the guy, but hell if it doesn’t work.

“Fine,” I yield. I like the idea of giving him what he asked for. It’s just a picture. Not like I’ll ever meet him or have to see the look on his face when he sees it for the first time.

Tammy claps happily and picks up the camera.

“Show me those pearly whites.”

I tilt my head and give her a smile. The camera clicks, and the picture pops out. She waves it in the air, wanting it to develop faster.

“Perfect,” she says, and hands it to me. “The warm glow you’re rocking really shows. Now he has something to spank it to.”

“Shut your mouth!” I shout, not believing he would masturbate to a picture of me.

“Oh, yeah.” She nods her head like she knows for a fact he will be
spanking
it
to a picture of me. While I don’t believe it would ever happen, I secretly love the idea that he’d get off to a picture of me. That I’d fuel his late-night fantasies like he’s been doing to me for the last few days.

Tammy gets up from her seat and grabs a plate of cookies I made earlier. “Got to get home. Steve will be home in a little bit. Might try out the wall thing.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Send the pic. Live a little. It’s fun.”

With that, she’s out the door.

I sit down and pull out a piece of paper, and I write while I wait for the last batch of cookies to bake.

M
ark
,

I’d love for you to call me Katie. I hear ‘Miss Lovely’ all day at school, and it’s a nice change. I love teaching, but high-school students can wear on you from time to time. Even with that, though, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. I like thinking that I might have an impact on someone’s life and help shape them into who they grow up to be.

You are a hundred percent right. The weather is crazy hot during the summer, but I make my own homemade ice cream, which could cool anyone down. If you’re ever around this way during the summer, I’ll have to make some for you.

As for me, I’m as single as can be and don’t have any kids. I’m not even sure I’ve ever even been on a proper date. I’m horribly shy with men, and even writing this letter is a little hard for me.

You asked about traveling. I haven’t done much myself. I keep telling myself I’ll go somewhere big during the next summer break and spend a month or so away. For some reason I just never do it. Maybe because I don’t want to do it alone. One of the downsides to being single, I guess. It’s hard to pull your girlfriends away for a month-long trip when they’re married. I don’t blame them, though. I’m sure if I had a husband, I wouldn’t want to leave him for a month, either.

I baked you some cookies. Like you, I’m a chocolate, chocolate chip kind of person. These ones are loaded with lots of chocolate. My policy is you can never have too much chocolate in your cookies. I’ve also slipped in a few other treats I’ve been testing out. You’ll have to let me know what you think.

As for animals, I am indeed a cat lady. Well, maybe not a ‘cat lady,’ per se. Is there a number you have to have to be a cat lady? I’ve only got one, but I’ve been tempted to get another. Although now you have me thinking about a puppy. I’m just not sure I could handle one. I hear you have to be firm with them, and I’m not sure that’s a personality trait I can have with a cute little puppy. With my students, yes, but I think puppy-dog eyes would do me in, and you’d soon find me making homemade puppy treats!

I promise, none of the treats I’ve sent are puppy treats!

I know you can’t tell me where you are or what you’re doing, but I’m curious what you do in your free time. I seem to find myself wondering about that. Maybe it’s because you described yourself to me and I’m trying to fully picture you.

As for what I look like, you can thank my friend Tammy for the picture I’ve included. She took the pic and insisted I send it. Like I said, I’m shy, and I need a little encouragement from time to time. She might have also stolen a few of your cookies.

Enjoy your treats, and I can’t wait to hear from you again.

Katie xoxoxo

PS…you forgot your PS last time.

O
pening the box
, I realize for the first time in a long time that I’m excited about something. It’s not that I’m unhappy with my life or myself, it’s just that my life is somewhat predictable and planned out. It just so happens that Katie’s letter is the first thing that has shaken me up in quite some time.

I’ve read and reread her first letter over and over. It’s worn from all the times I’ve held it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean a lot to me.

Inside the box is a small envelope with my name written on it. It’s in her perfect handwriting, and I pick up the rectangle of paper, running my fingers over my name. Something about seeing it written by her makes me feel something I can’t describe. It’s like a closeness to her, which I didn’t expect from a perfect stranger.

Under the letter is a sealed box, and I pull it out and open it. The smell of chocolate invades my senses and makes my mouth water. I turn around and look over my shoulder to make sure no one else is anywhere near so that I’ve got all these babies to myself. I should probably share, but I find myself wanting everything to do with Katie to stay close to me.

I grab a cookie and pop it into my mouth while I grab the box and letter and walk over to my desk. The delicious treat melts in my mouth, and I moan loudly at the sweet taste. Sitting down at the desk, I realize my cock is hard as a rock. From eating a fucking cookie.

Goddamn, she better be single, because I’ve never seen the woman and I want to marry her. She got my cock hard with a box of cookies. I can’t begin to imagine the possibilities.

Carefully, I open her letter, pull out the paper, and read it. I can feel my face nearly break in two at her opening words, already feeling close to her.

I try not to rush, taking my time and savoring every word. When I get to the line when she says she’s single, I literally pump my fist in the air.

“Fuck yeah!” I shout into the empty room.

She says there’s a picture included, and I search the envelope for it.

“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.

D
ear 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.

M
ark

A
nd I didn’t forget
the PS. Just not sure you’re ready to read it yet.

P
S
…