“I’d do a check on your background,” Brock Debroux joked to Angelina as she poured the champagne.
She turned around and grinned. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were getting fresh with me.”
Brock blushed a bit and accepted the champagne flute Angelina handed to him. He lifted his glass and declared proudly, “Today was a banner day for our organization and the Senate, Angie. It’s time to celebrate, and I can’t think of a finer person to share this moment with.” Brock looked down sheepishly for one second, worried he had said too much.
It was no secret to his colleagues that he had a very large crush on Angelina, the temp they hired for a few months while his assistant was on maternity leave. Since they worked together, however, he knew to keep things strictly professional. It definitely wasn’t a confidence issue; Brock was good-looking, successful and very powerful – his father, Sonny Debroux, was the Chief Executive of the most powerful gun rights group in the country, where Brock also worked – but he knew that it would be inappropriate and downright cliché to make a pass his secretary. Plus, he was pretty sure she had a boyfriend, at least according to the many happy “selfie” pictures of her and a handsome mystery man he spotted during the frequent visits he made to her Facebook, Twitter and Instagram pages several times a day.
Angelina traced the rim of her crystal flute. “I’m proud of you for doing what you love,” she said, her velvety soft voice permeating Brock’s ears. “And I know it’s not my place to say, but I think that your policies are just… wrong.”
She cast her eyes down and furrowed her brow before shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” Brock offered, even though her words did indeed hurt him. “I know we come from different political backgrounds and you’ve… kept to yourself. I appreciate that.”
Angelina suddenly looked up, a wicked grin consuming her cherry lips. “No, Brock. I don’t think you quite understand. In fact, I don’t think you know just exactly how wrong you are.”
“Pardon…” Brock started, but before he could get another word out of his mouth, Angelina shoved him roughly up against the wall, pinning him tightly with her soft, yet firm hands. Staring intensely into his eyes, her face inches away from his, Angelina placed a warm hand on his face, tracing a line from her thumb across his lips. “You’ve been flirting with me for months but haven’t made one move,” Angelina said. “And I’m starting to think that it’s because you know you can’t handle it.”
“Handle what?” Brock whispered, afraid to move under Angelina’s body that was now pressed hard into his. A million thoughts were swimming through his head. What exactly did she mean? Her conflicting opinions on gun control? This conversation? He was at a loss for words, and was doing his best to try to suppress the overwhelming warmth that was creeping down into his loins that were now showing evidence of his arousal.
“Handle me,” Angelina whispered. “I can see that you’re thinking about what I said. That’s cute. I like boys who think. But what I like better is boys who act.” She pulled her silk chemise spaghetti strap top over her head, revealing a rose-colored lace bra. Angelina then pressed her body harder into Brock’s and traced her tongue along the nape of his neck. She whispered into his ear, “So why have you never made a move on me?”
“Angelina, I… I…”
“You what,” Angelina countered. “You didn’t want to jump the gun, so to speak? Excellent. I like a little challenge. If you had thrown yourself at me on day one I might have been put off. But I like you Brock. I’ve gotten to know you, and I think you like me too. That proves my first point of why you are completely and totally wrong on your gun control policies.”
Angelina began to unbutton Brock’s dress shirt, softly kissing every bit of flesh on his chest that she slowly revealed.
“W… what do you mean?”
She looked up and said, “Mandatory waiting periods. They can be really sexy. And give people time to think about what they want…” Her hand was now creeping down to Brock’s aching bulge. “And I know what I want now.” She cradled her hand over his jeans around his stirring manhood and leaned in to kiss him. He squirmed in sheer pleasure and excitement when the flesh of her tongue grazed against his.
Angelina pulled her mouth back and Brock sputtered, “I… I agree. I mean I have desired you for so long and it just got more intense…” He leaned his head into hers to steal another kiss but Angelina stopped him.
“Shhh,” she said, her hand on his mouth. “There’s one more thing I want to bring up. Did you know this was my last day? I don’t work for you anymore. So why didn’t you ask me out to dinner like a real gentleman?”
Brock stood in awe. Was today her last day? How had he not known? He finally spoke up, “But… you have a boyfriend. I mean, that’s what I think.”
Angelina shook her head in disbelief, her hand still rubbing rhythmically along the thick hardness in his jeans. “Well, that brings me to my next point,” she said, positioning her mouth close to Brock’s ear when she whispered. “Background checks.”
Brock was so aroused she could have suggested that he quit his job, buy a guitar and go to Burning Man and he would have said yes at that point. He didn’t want her to stop what she was doing.
“But you… the guy on your Facebook page…” Brock started.
“What are you, 12? That’s my brother. And if you had done any research whatsoever, you’d know that today is my last day, but you didn’t.”
“I didn’t ” Brock exhaled. Angelina was now kissing his chest. She began to undo the button on his khakis when he stopped her and pulled her up to him. The feeling of flesh against flesh was too much to bear, but Brock knew what he had to do.
“Would you like to have dinner with me? Tonight?”
Angelina stepped back, smiling. She grabbed her top from the floor and much to Brock’s dismay, put it back on.
“Well I thought you’d never ask.” Angelina picked up her purse, turned and walked out the door.
Brock slid down the wall and sat on the floor. With everything that happened today, he felt ashamed. Ashamed that deep down Angelina was right; he hadn’t really done any research into her background. He hadn’t taken the time to learn that today was her last day. And yes, the waiting period made things that much sexier. He could also see her point about the gun control laws that the Senate had valiantly voted against that same day. And although he likely wouldn’t change his views completely, she did make him think a little bit about the current legislation. Not a lot, just a bit. And that was still more than could be said about his colleagues.
All he had to figure out now was what restaurants bleeding heart liberal flower-power hippie love chicks like to go to.