Saturday, October 27, 2012

A Little Heat From Down South

As the elevator doors closed behind my friend, I had a jolt of apprehension. Some one-on-one time with a handsome exotic man sounded great in theory. In reality, though, it actually was kinda scary. I assumed the plant company did background checks, but who knows what the hell he did in Australia before coming here? I mean, guys don’t get arms like that from needlepoint. He could be anyone. Or anything.
So why did I feel a tingling in my panties?
I crossed my legs and watched him mosey through the other offices. My breath was patchy, but I couldn’t tell if it was lust, fear, or a delicious cocktail of the two. 
I dropped my gaze to the file I was supposed to have finished last week. A short knock on my open door announced his arrival.
“G’day, Ms. Clair.”
I paid extra attention to his smooth, drawling voice, and finally understood why Eva, and pretty much everyone, thought he was slow. It was like his vowels were made of taffy.
I spotted my cellphone, sitting all the way over on the filing cabinet. Not wanting to appear rude, I glanced up and smiled as I met his eyes.
From across the office he was gorgeous, but up close he was even better. He looked like a short-haired surfer who’d stolen someone else’s clothes off the line. Probably while fleeing a jealous husband. I pinched my thumb as I pictured it.
“Hello, Barry. You’re here late.”
“Oh, yeah, been flat out like a lizard drinkin’. I’m just here to check your bush.”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded at the corner of my desk, where my poor, neglected plant clung gamely to its existence. The thought of this big hunk of man working here in the tiny space of my office suddenly made breathing difficult. He looked like he knew how to fill a space.

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