The Temp 9

Brad leaned against the back wall of the elevator and closed his eyes. Even a 60 second nap was better than none at all. Last night's game had gone into extra innings, and the guys had lingered even longer afterwards, so Brad didn't collapse onto his bed until after 2:00 am. At least Erin will be there to ward off the evil spirits. Erin was Brad's assistant and had been with him for four years. She was so amazingly efficient that she made everything seem calm even if the roof was caving in.

The elevator door opened and Brad trudged down the corridor to his office. When he opened the outer door, he saw Steve's office light off and a strange set of keys lying on Erin's desk. Then it hit him. Shit! This was perfect storm week. Both Erin and Steve asked for the week off at the same time. They usually staggered their time off but of them had amazing opportunities for trips with friends, so Brad would have felt like an ogre denying them.

Great. Brad wasn't hung over, but he was really tired. If there were no issue that needed immediate attention, he had planned on saying hello, grabbing some coffee, closing his door, and sleeping on his desk for an hour. No such luck.

He turned left to walk into his office but was stopped by the sight of a young woman bent over his desk. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Her long light brown hair covered her face. The unexpected voice startled her. "Oh! I was just ... Are you Brad?" she asked as she stood up.

For an uncomfortable few seconds, Brad just stood there frozen. The woman's smile stared to fade a little. She wasn't sure what to do. Since he was just staring, she decided to move toward him and extend her hand. "Hi, I'm Marley. The temp agency sent me over to help out for the week."

Her forward movement snapped Brad out of his stupor. "Hi ... I'm sorry. You caught me off guard. Yes, I'm Brad the deaf-mute." He extended his hand and smiled to hide his embarrassment. Marley's big smile returned as she finally got some reaction from him.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Keller. You have one of the plum accounts at the agency ... The people there told me you are very easy to work with."

"That's nice to hear, and call me Brad I guess if you can't speak, you can't yell," he said still embarrassed.

Marley chuckled to make him feel better. "Did you know someone was coming?"

"No. Erin took care of it, I'm sure. She takes very good care of me."

"Hopefully, I'll be able to do the same. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, Marley."

"Okay. I put a message on your desk ... from a Jack Stacy."

Brad moved past her to look at the pink message slip. As he passed, he noticed she smelled like flowers. He stared blankly at the slip, which read: Call Jack Stacey ... 414-276-9012. Marley waited for a moment to see if there was going to be anything else. After several seconds of watching him stare at the note, she said, "I'll be right out here if you need anything."

He looked up. "Okay," he said with a stupid grin.

When she had turned away, Marley raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Then she walked around and sat behind Erin's desk. Brad slumped back in his chair. Holy shit! His office was still filled with her fragrance. He closed his eyes and look in a deep breath. Where the fuck did she come from? Brad opened his eyes and peeked around the edge of the door to see if Marley was looking. She was looking down at a notebook or address book from her purse at the moment. He stared at her for so long she sensed eyes upon her and looked up. Brad, caught staring, immediately sat back in his chair and tried to pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Marley snickered quietly to herself.

The rest of the morning was pretty quiet. Brad returned a couple of calls and stared numbly at his computer screen. It was July 4th week, and the place was dead. That was another reason Brad relented with both vacation requests. Erin's roommate from college called to tell her that another friend had to drop out of a cruise they were going on. If Erin could go, the trip would be free. Steve, Brad's assistant editor, had a gone back home for his sister's wedding.

At 12:30, he walked to Marley's desk. "I was just wondering if I could buy you lunch to make up for being a complete loser earlier when we first met?"

She smiled a wide smile with perfect, white teeth behind moist pink lips. "Sure! What about the phones? Does it matter that no one will be here?"

"It's July 4th week. No one's gonna call. Let's go. Feel like Chinese?"

Brad's favorite lunch spot was Chan's Palace. They had great food, and it was never loud. After ordering, Brad began the small talk. "So, what led you to temp work?"

"I am a hopeful photographer," she explained. "But, finding enough clients to actually earn a steady income takes time, so I fill in with this work, waitressing ... the usual."

Making eye contact was not a problem. Brad couldn't tear himself away from those pale, almond-shaped blue eyes with her delicate eyebrows arched seductively over them. His challenge was trying not to get lost in them.

"Photographer? Really? We hire photographers a lot. I'd love to see your portfolio."

Marley's eyes grew wide. "I love to show it to you! Actually, I have to confess that was the reason I lobbied to get this assignment. I wasn't sure what you did, but I knew it had something to do with publications."

Look at that smile! "Yes. Johnson and Granger is an architecture and engineering firm. My title is Director of Marketing, but mostly I put together publications, Power Point presentations, and background material for the people on the sales side to use."

Marley listened keenly. "What kind of work do you hire out?" she asked before taking a bite of Kung Pao chicken.

"Shots of buildings, angles of interiors and exteriors, mood lighting ... just about anything that will enhance the attraction of our projects to future clients."

"I actually had to put together something like that for school. I'll bring that in," she said enthusiastically.

Brad watched her tuck her hair behind her ear. Everything she did fascinated him. He studied the way she manipulated her chop sticks with her long, slender fingers. He observed the graceful way she put the napkin to her mouth when she laughed while chewing. He scrutinized the crinkle that formed between her stunning eyes whenever he complimented her on something, like she was unsure why he would say such an obviously incorrect thing. She was so happy and so unassuming that he often sat through lunch with his face resting in his hand with his elbow on the table, just watching her beautiful animated face.

At one point, he blurted out, "You know, you could be in front of the camera too." Marley looked down and shrugged. How could anyone who looked like her be so uncertain about her beauty? The more Brad listened and watched, the more smitten he became.

The afternoon was also quiet. Toward the end, he sat in the chair used for waiting guests so he could talk to her more. She was just hanging up her cell phone when he walked out of his office.

"Rats," she said to herself.

"Problems?" he asked.

"No big deal. I was supposed to play tennis tonight with my roommate Angie, but something came up," Marley said.

Brad perked up. "You play tennis?"

"Since I was 10. I even played in college. No one's going to confuse me with Steffi Graf, but I can hold my own. Why? Do you play?"

"Yeah! I wasn't on my college team, but I've played competitive tennis for years."

"Oh," she said.

He watched her face and then asked, "Since your partner bailed on you, would you like a substitute?" He tried his best to sound nonchalant, but he wasn't sure how well he was doing.

Marley's face brightened. "Sure! I figured you had plans with family or something."

"Nope. Not married. You?" She looked at him quizzically. Then, he realized his error and said, "I guess if you were married your roommate would be Andy, not Angie, right?"

She smiled. "Right."

"Okay, then. I seem to have steadily worked my way all day from my toes up to my ankle. I'm now quite stuffed!" Marley laughed. She had a great laugh. It was throaty and deep ... and infectious. A ray of afternoon sun hit her porcelain skin, and she looked like her face was glowing.

"Don't worry. I've certainly dined on my own feet many times."

"When and where should I meet you?"

"We can use the court time I had reserved at CourtSouth on Nolen Avenue at 6:00, if that works for you. I may go for a swim before, so I'll leave a guest pass for you at the front desk."

"Sounds perfect. Just take it easy on me," Brad said.

Marley looked him up and down. "You look like you can hold your own." The compliment made Brad tingle.

"Then, it's a date."

At the tennis center, Brad walked down the stairs to the far court. Marley was already hitting some serves to warm up. Damn! The first thing Brad noticed was the very short white tennis skirt and the impossibly long, lean, tan legs coming out of it. He had always been a leg man, and he surmised that Marley would have great legs, but they were a 100 times better than he imagined. They weren't feminine thin. They were athletic thin with long defined muscles and sleek rounded calves. He couldn't remember ever seeing legs so incredible.

"You made it!" she said when she realized he was approaching.

"Your directions were perfect."

"Great! You want to stretch and warm up?"

"Sure." Brad walked over the far side, set down his bag, and pulled out his racquet. Marley watched as he stretched. He had a very cute butt and nice legs, she thought, with just enough hair to make them masculine but not enough to look like a caveman. She also liked his broad chest and muscular arms. When he reached up and stretched to the side, Marley zeroed in on his package. It looked nice and full to her. She could even see the outline of a long, thick ridge running up one side. She grinned, hoping she was the cause. Marley'd had enough compliments in her life to know she was cute, but she had always been shy about her looks. However, she did know her legs were her best feature.

They hit balls back and forth for about ten minutes before starting the match. Marley won the spin of the racquet and served first. Brad got ready, and her first serve blew past him, nailing the far outside corner. He moved back slightly when they changed sides. Marley pounded the next serve off the outer serve line. Brad watched it but couldn't do anything about it. "I think I'm in way over my head," called to her. She chuckled.

Brad did manage to barely hold onto one of his service games, but the 6-1 set was never close. In the second set, Marley eased up on her serve and played more of a volley game. Brad did slightly better and suffered only a 6-2 drubbing. Of course, he got to stare at those delicious legs all match long, so he had a hard time believing he was the loser in the match.

"What was that crap about Steffi Graf? With that serve and those legs providing court coverage, I don't think Ms. Graf has anything on you, my dear," Brad said as they got some water and packed up their things.

"Thanks," she said smiling. "Hungry? Winner buys," she said.

"How could I refuse?"

"I'll meet you out front in 30 minutes."

When Marley emerged from the locker room, Brad almost chocked on his gulp of water. She had a dark blue jacket with the sleeves pushed up, dark blue and white stripped knit shirt and tiny little denim shorts. Her long hair was in a pony-tail, sticking out of the back of a baseball cap, which was also one of his weaknesses. She smiled when she saw the dumbstruck look on his face.

They decided to go to Danny's and dropped Marley's car off at her apartment. The restaurant was crowded, but the hostess said they could sit at a booth that had handicapped seats on one side. Brad feigned disappointment but was actually jumping for joy because that meant that Marley would be sitting next to him.

"If you're buying dinner, I'm buying the drinks. Do you prefer red or white?"

"Red, definitely."

He ordered a bottle of cabernet, and they each ordered filets.

"That was an impressive match Ms. Crane. They must have had a hell of a team at Baylor when you were there for you to not to be the top player."

"Since you're a tennis fan, I guess you've heard of Kristen Merriweather?"

"Sure."

"She was the #1 player on my team. We went to the national finals my senior year."

Brad's mouth was open. Kristen Merriweather was the #5 player in the world right now and was an assassin on hard court. "Damn! So, what were you playing ... 50% ... 30% out there today?"

She hit him on the arm and said, "C'mon you're better than that."

"Not even close to your league. Were you ..."

"... #2? Yeah," Marley said shyly.

"Why didn't you turn pro?"

"Me? I'd never be able to compete on that level."

"How'd you do against Kristen in college?"

"Pretty good. We used to have some major battles in practice. In fact, our coach told us that the competition would be a cakewalk after facing each other every day."

Brad leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and looked at her with a furrowed brow. "So, I mention that with a perfect smile, breathtaking eyes, a killer body and simply the best legs I have ever seen on a human that you could be a model, and you shrug me off. Then ... I ask why you didn't turn pro at tennis after finding out that you used to go toe-to-toe with the fifth best player in the world, and you say you aren't good enough. Ms. Crane, is there any subject upon which I can compliment you and not get an argument?"

Marley shrugged and said, "My photography. I think I'm pretty good."

"Then, I absolutely can't wait to see it tomorrow," he said with a warm smile.

They ate and laughed through dinner. Brad told her about his dysfunctional family with his lecherous uncle, robot nerd of a brother, loving space cadet of a mother and clueless father. She entertained him with imitations of her sisters arguing about everything from who stole whose clothes to bathroom allotment time.

Brad ordered a second bottle of wine. "I've been dying to ask you something all night, Marley. If I'm out of line, just tell me. How on earth is a smart, funny, beautiful, talented woman like you still available? I know men aren't always the brightest stars in the galaxy, but you're like ... wow!" She was glad he couldn't see her blush in the dim light of the restaurant.

"I've dated a bunch of guys. I don't know ... I just haven't met the right one."

"How would a devilishly handsome tennis player with a newfound appreciation for his mediocrity do?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"He'd have to have a cute dimple on his right side when he smiled."

Brad looked momentarily pensive and then made a checkmark in the air with his finger. "What else?"

Marley chuckled. "He'd have to have an excellent butt."

Brad looked worried and glanced over his back. Marley laughed out loud at that, grabbed his finger and made her own checkmark. "Whew! Anything else?" he said moving closer to her and looking right into her eyes.

Her smile faded, and she said, "He'd have to be a great kisser."

Brad tilted his head and met her lips with his. He kissed her softly several times before shifting his body toward her. When she opened her mouth for the next round, he used his tongue to dance with hers. Marley moaned softly when their tongues met. The way Marley was responding and the heat that was rising from her body made this one of the most erotic experience Brad could remember in a long time.

They were so lost in their kisses that the waitress had to clear her throat for a second time to get their attention. They looked up at her with such dazed looks that she had to stifle a laugh. "I really hate to interrupt you two. You looked like you were going for the record."

Brad looked at his watch and realized, "We've been sitting here kissing for an hour and fifteen minutes." Marley burst out laughing. "What's the record?" he asked the waitress.

"An hours and 45 minutes. I have no doubt you could have taken home the trophy, but we're closing, so I need to give you the check." Brad quickly handed her his Visa.

"I thought I was supposed to get part of that," Marley said.

"What? Oh! Right. I guess something must have distracted me." They were about to pick up where they left off, but the waitress reappeared. Brad left her a generous tip and told her to keep the wine since they never had a chance to take a single sip.

He stood up, and the waitress started laughing. Marley looked down and did the same. Brad realized the object of their mirth was now sticking way out in front of his groin and asked, "Marley, would you like me to carry your jacket?" That made her laugh so hard she fell against his shoulder. The waitress had to sit down. Brad calmly draped the jacket over one arm and held it in front of his pants. He then offered Marley the other arm, and they marched out of the restaurant with his dignity most definitely not intact.

In the parking lot, he looked at her and said, "You have a mean streak, Ms. Crane." That made her laugh harder still.

When she was finally able to speak, she said, "I guess I'll just have to make it up to you ... if you could ever possibly think of a way."

Brad smiled. "My place or yours?"

"Yours. Angie will be at mine."

Brad raced to his townhouse, parked and came to her side to escort her inside. As soon as the front door closed, Marley pinned Brad against the wall and started kissing him feverishly. They began shedding clothes as they slowly made their way up the stairs. The only time their lips only parted was when they ripped off their shirts. By the time they got to the landing, they were yanking off their pants.

Marley grabbed Brad's thick, masculine cock. Oh, my God, this is gonna feel so good!

Brad wrapped his hand around her B-cup breast and rubbed her stiff nipple. Fuck! Isn't there anything about this woman that isn't perfect? He picked her up and carried her to his bed, still managing to keep the kissing string going even as he laid her on a pile of pillows. As he moved between her long thighs, she guided his cock toward her dripping pussy.

"Just fuck me, Brad. We can get to the preliminaries later," she panted. "Besides I'm so fucking wet you'd need a snorkel."

"Christ! Every single thing you say and do is just making me hotter! I'm so damn overloaded right now, I may cum in five seconds. But, don't worry. I recover fast."

"I'm not worried ... I just wanna fuck."

Brad took the hint and plunged deep and hard into her. Her long legs immediately encased his body, and she pushed her hips into him. They quickly found a common rhythm. Brad finally broke his string of kisses and gritted his teeth trying to hold back. The way she was moving and squeezing him with her vaginal walls was driving him crazy. He couldn't talk; he only moaned and grunted.

Marley, on the other hand, was a talker. "I love your dick. Your dick is perfect for me! It's so long and hard and thick. I can feel you everywhere. Fuck me, baby! Fuck me with your perfect dick!"

The combination was too much for Brad. He swelled inside Marley and released his load. As he gave over control of his body to his primal self, Marley began pushing against him. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Yes!" she screamed in response to the force of his hammering. "Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhhh!!"

Both of them lay almost motionless for a few minutes, allowing their torrid breathing and their pounding hearts to slowly subsided.

"I take it all back," Brad said.

"Take what back?" Marley said in a breathy voice.

"The recovering quickly part. I may never be able to come again."

"That's okay. I may have to douche with a fire extinguisher first myself." That comment caught Brad completely off guard, and he started laughing hard for several minutes, lying on top of her. Marley even got caught up in it and began laughing with him. He eventually rolled off of her and pulled her onto his chest.