Taking a minute's breather, she saw him standing there, his collar unbuttoned and shirt tail untucked, his green tie off kilter. His brown eyes glowed deep and dark and intense. It was always in moments like these, watching him in action, that she fell the most in love with him. She loved his intensity, his sincerity, his focus and his passion.
He was a handsome man under ordinary circumstances. The brown jacket and burgundy red shirt and forest green tie he wore only helped to accent his soft sloppy brown hair, big brown eyes, masculine facial features, broad shoulders and chest, rugged stature. But at times like these, when he was in action, he was downright irresistable.
She looked up at him, her own hair falling out of the pony tail she kept it in, her own blue eyes full of passion. Stepping closer, she ran her hands slowly up his chest and around his neck. Her eyes met his, beckoning him not to say a word. He raised his eyesbrows, but then understood. Coming closer to him, she pressed her body against his own. "Otto", she whispered, and then took him into the kiss that she had been longing to give him since this whole rigamarole started.