When the car came to a halt in front of an immaculate cement rendered house, I was shaken back to reality. Joel was already out of the car and was opening my door when I realized I still had my seatbelt on.
“Wow,” I exclaimed, climbing from the car. “You live here?” I asked. Joel didn’t answer, he just began kissing the back of my neck and massaging my shoulders. “Have a look at this place,” I said in shock. It was the most beautiful home I had ever seen. The front yard, even the view from the driveway, was inspiring. I could hear running water somewhere close by, and a million tiny lights illuminated the front garden, showing off an immaculately landscaped yard.
“I’ve seen it,” Joel murmured into my ear. “Let’s go inside.” He basically dragged me through the front door as I tried to take in as much as I could, but my feet barely touched the ground as he led me through an oversized oak door.
Inside was even more amazing. The high ceilings featured built in lights which had been switched on and then dimmed. Everything was pristine and perfect—white leather lounge, the biggest flat screen television I had ever seen hanging on the wall, the glass coffee table with no sign of magazines or even a coffee ring. It was one of those living rooms you saw in the home decorating magazines. Everything was simple, stylish, modern, and all in its place. Beyond the lounge room I could see into the kitchen, where the granite bench tops were completely clean, not even a toaster or a kettle plugged in. Everything was put away, and no trace of dust or even living.
“Are you sure you live here?” I asked, trying to look around the rooms. I was secretly dying for the grand tour, I wanted to see more. I could only imagine what the bathroom would be like.
In the midst of that thought Joel kicked off his shoes and ripped his shirt up over his head. I completely forgot about the house. If I thought his house was in perfect condition, his body was something else. Everything that I guessed was under the suit when I first met him was there, and an even bigger surprise packet.
Running my fingers softly over his flawless washboard abs, I was completely and utterly gone. Joel dropped to his knees and undid the zipper on my boots. It was the most erotic and sensual thing I’d ever experienced. I knew I was melting and by the time he stood up again, and I stepped out of my boots, I was desperate for him.
“Bedroom?” I panted desperately in his ear, the only chance I had of coming up for breath.
As he tugged down the zipper on the back of my dress, I could feel my heart pounding and my pulse racing. I could feel the wet warmth of his breath on my exposed skin and my entire body was covered in tiny goose bumps. My dress dropped to the floor, and for the first time I felt self-conscious. Before that moment I hadn’t thought about it, but standing in the middle of his picture-perfect home, wearing only my black bra and panties, I felt exposed and vulnerable—ashamed, even.
But Joel didn’t give me a chance to think. Lifting me off my feet, my legs wrapped around his waist as he palmed my arse and carried me through his home. Pushing open the bedroom door, I was surprised to see that even that was kept immaculate. The cynical part of me wondered if it was kept so perfect because tonight he was expecting to bring someone home, or if this was the way he actually lived.
Setting me down on my feet, Joel popped the button on his jeans and let them fall to the floor, my jaw dropping with them as I got my first glimpse of exactly how impressive Joel Matthews was.
CHAPTER FOUR
GILLIAN
The night before had been a whirlwind. I woke in a sun-filled bedroom, tangled in the most luxurious sheets my body had ever felt. They smelt of jasmine and something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I was transported to heaven. Lying there, breathing in the beautiful smells, I heard the shower turn off and remembered where I was. This wasn’t some hotel room. And room service wasn’t coming. I was in my real estate agent’s house. In my real estate agent’s bed. And someone, I hoped it was him, was about to finish in the shower.
I knew Joel was older than me, and I was just hoping that this immaculate house he’d brought me back to last night didn’t actually belong to someone else, someone with the same surname as him. “Please, don’t live with your parents,” I begged quietly.
Scouring the room desperately for my clothes, but not moving from the bed, I spotted them on the other side of the room. They were neatly folded on a leather chair in the corner, my boots on the floor, sitting side by side. Suddenly a lack of self-confidence and embarrassment consumed me and I found myself darting across the room and pulling my clothes on as quickly as I could.
As I was pulling on my last boot, Joel strutted back into the bedroom, looking like he had just stepped off the pages of a fashion catalogue. His hair was styled, his face cleanly shaven, and he was dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit and tie. His crisp, clean white shirt was starched within an inch of its life.
“Morning,” he smiled, bending down to kiss my cheek as if it was the most natural thing to do. It was quick, easy, almost like it was an old habit.
“Hi,” I murmured, trying to be as casual as possible.
Without looking inept or even humiliated on any level, Joel checked that his tie was straight in the mirror hanging above the bed. I stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, not entirely sure what to do or say next. This was completely foreign to me. I’d never been the one-night kind of girl. I’d never had to dress in last nights clothes and do the walk of shame. Everything about this was odd.
“Would you like some juice? There’s freshly squeezed orange in the fridge,” Joel offered, smiling yet again.
I wanted to curl up and die. Actually, what I really wanted was to rip the suit from his body and fall back between the beautiful sheets and surface a week later. Last night had been lustful, needy, and desperate, and I was curious if round two would be just as enthusiastic.
“Sounds great,” I accepted. I hated orange juice; it gave me an itchy rash all over my body, tiny little pimples that itched and irritated for days. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“Not at all. There are fresh towels on the shelf and a spare toothbrush in the second drawer.”
I watched him walk out of the room. There was a confident swagger about him, and the way his hips swivelled side to side made my thighs clench remembering how he used them barely hours ago. Feeling my temperature sky rocketing, I chastised myself. I needed to behave and get out of there as quickly as possible, before I did or said something that would only lead to regret.
The ensuite bathroom was more than I could have imagined. It had sparkling clean, white tiles, a large square mirror, and thick, luxurious chocolate towels. Nothing out of place. Not even a stray hair on the floor. Splashing some cold water over my inflamed face I focused on getting my breathing back under control, but nothing could control my curiosity.
I started in the second drawer, finding the spare pink toothbrush, still in its wrapper. Secretly I wondered how long it had been there, and how often it got replaced. The top drawer contained the usual—deodorant, razors, shaving cream, hair gel, and three different aftershaves. I took my time sniffing each of them. With each one, my heart pounded a little harder. They were all intoxicating. The third drawer had a spare tube of toothpaste, another bottle of shampoo, and some moisturizer. “No wonder you look so good,” I said to myself. It made sense, really. A man who looked as immaculate as Joel did needed something to make him look like that. I was just relieved to know he didn’t roll out of bed each day looking like a model. The fourth drawer was a mystery. Every guy that I’d ever known had only needed one drawer. Joel was more into appearances than most and I guess part of looking good came from his job, but what could he possibly be stashing in the fourth drawer?
A knock at the door made me almost collapse. I felt like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Did you find everything you need?” he called out.
Stuffing the toothbrush in my mouth, “Yes, thanks,” I said, garbled. I stood there for a few mome
nts, my heart racing, waiting until I heard his footsteps walk away from the door.
Turning back to the fourth drawer, I pulled it open quickly, knowing my snooping time was quickly running out. Inside was only one box— condoms. Joel had his birth control stashed in the bathroom. No big deal. Everyone had them somewhere.
Quickly rinsing the toothbrush, I laid it on the sink next to his. I wandered out into the kitchen only to find Joel gulping down a juice and swallowing a handful of pills.
“Big night?” I laughed, breaking the silence.
Shaking his head, he replied, “Nah, just some vitamins.”
“What time did you get up? I didn’t hear you.”
“I was up at five. I went for a run, got my work out in then jumped in the shower. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You went for a run?”
“Yeah, but it was only seven kilometres this morning. I was still pretty wiped out. For some reason I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He winked and my stomach lurched.
I didn’t know what to say. He was obviously a fitness freak and I, well, if I even thought about running, I started sweating. “Can I borrow your keys for a minute?” I asked, desperate to get away from his piercing stare. He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I’m not going to steal it.” I choked out a laugh. “I just need to grab my handbag. I left it there last night.”
He tossed me the keys and it took all my concentration to catch them. The last thing I wanted to do was look like a klutz. Slipping off the bar stool I headed out the door. Out on the drive I was almost blinded by the sun.
I grabbed my bag and headed back inside. As I reached out to hand him back his keys our fingers brushed slightly and I felt the now all too familiar tingling sensation run rampant through my entire body. There was something about this guy that made me want him so badly I could taste him. He was just so damn sexy.
“Look, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I do have to get to work…” He trailed off.
“No, oh god, no. Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just order an Uber and get out of your hair,” I offered.
“It’s fine, Gillian.” When he added my name, I felt slightly better. At least he knew my name. That wasn’t something that cheap skanks did, give out their real name. “I’ll drop you off. Just tell me where you want to go.” He chuckled, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge.
I asked him to take me back to my car, which was all I could manage. All I wanted to say was “take me back to bed,” but thankfully I restrained myself. Slinging my bag over my shoulder and followed him out the door. In the morning sunlight the front yard was even more beautiful than it had been the night before. Trees had shed their leaves and the whole yard had been turned a mosaic of autumn colour, fiery reds, glistening golds, and burnt browns. The leaves cracked and broke apart under my feet.
Joel joined me only moments later, sliding silently behind the wheel, and reversed hastily down the drive. “I have to ask, is that your place?” I asked nervously, still unsure that I really wanted to hear his answer.
“Why is that?” he avoided.
“Just curious.”
“Who else’s would it be?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Your parents’? A client’s? Your boss’s?”
“What makes you think it’s not mine?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“Okay, it’s immaculate. I mean, the gardens are near perfect, the house doesn’t have a speck of dust anywhere. It looks like something straight from a magazine. Besides, you’re a young, single guy. No guys I know have a house like that.” I knew I was babbling, “You are single, aren’t you?” I asked, taking another look at his left hand for any sign of a ring.
Laughing, Joel’s face lit up. I could tell he wasn’t laughing at me but rather enjoying my awkwardness. “Okay, in order. No, the house isn’t my parents’. Nor is it a client’s or my boss’s; I’m not that tacky. I have a gardener who comes once a week to keep my yard looking like that. And the cleaner comes twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays. Her name is Marie. Yes, it looks like something out of a magazine, because it’s been in a couple. I spend barely any time there, so it never really gets the chance to become the typical guy’s house. Satisfied?” he asked with a smirk.
“You missed one thing.”
“What was that?”
“Don’t worry.”
“You can’t just do that. Say I missed something, but not tell me what it was?” Joel teased. He knew exactly which part of the question I was referring to; his eyes were alive and mocking. His avoidance was infuriating.
“Don’t play dumb,” I scolded.
“I have no idea what you mean.” He chuckled, turning into the car park we had left merely hours earlier. Across the road I saw cafés filled with Saturday morning patrons enjoying their eggs and lattes. In that moment I despised the happy, smug couples, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes while she pretended to pick at her fruit cup and he stuffed down bacon, sausages, and hash browns. It was all so fake, or at least I hoped it was.
The sound of Joel’s deep voice broke my trance and brought me out of my envious gaze. “Which car is it?”
“Just drop me here. I’ll walk. It’s on the next level.” I smiled, not wanting Joel to see my car. In comparison to his, it was embarrassing and I had already had more than my fair share of humiliation this morning.
“You’re sure? I don’t mind.”
“Yup!” He bought the car to a stop, and I opened the door. “Thanks for, you know. Dropping me back.” My stomach was full of butterflies the size of albatrosses.
“No trouble. I’ll call you later on about the house.” He smiled. “See you.” He turned into an empty car park and turned around. As he drove back past me, I had my eyes firmly fixated on the ground in front of me.
“Hey Gillian,” he called out. My eyes shot up towards his voice deceivingly quickly, “So, yeah, I’m single.” He grinned that silly, cheeky grin that got me into trouble in the first place. My face flushed, but he never saw it. He was already gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
GILLIAN
Five days after my walk of shame, I was still furious with Joel. He hadn’t called. Not once. No email, no texts, not even a comment on Facebook when, in a fit of uncontrolled frustrations, I decided to update my status to ‘Are all real estate agents’ assholes?’ I don’t know if I was angry because he hadn’t called me, or because he’d promised to let me know what was going on with the sale of my parents’ properties and he hadn’t.
When the phone rang I jumped, suddenly filled with hope, and raced through the apartment like a woman possessed. Swearing and cursing at myself, I struggled to even locate my phone. Spotting it half buried in the clean washing pile, I jumped the sofa and grabbed it. “Hello?” I puffed and panted, as the hope instantly faded, replaced with dread.
“Hey Gillian, it’s me, Rhiannon!” she exclaimed cheerily. I was annoyed that my hopes had soared so high and it was only Rhiannon, but it wasn’t her fault.
“Oh, hi,” I mumbled, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“Tomorrow night we’re heading out on the town and you, missy, are joining us. And I don’t want to hear one excuse!”
Wracking my brain, trying to find an acceptable excuse, I coughed. I knew I didn’t have one, and there was no way Rhiannon would let me out of this. “Cool,” I faked. “Who with? What time? And where are we heading?”
“Just the girls this time. You, me, Cora and Heidi. Meeting at my place about seven for pre-drinks and to finish getting ready, then we’ll head into the city.”
“No troubles. Well, I’ll drive and that way we can get there and home.”
“No chance. Alex is going to come over when I call him, pick us all up and drop us in the city. Then when we’re nicely plastered and relaxed, I just have to call and he’ll come and pick us up and take us home.” As much as it annoyed me, I had to admit, Rhiannon had everything planned.
“Sounds good. What do I bring?”
“Just your fabulous self and a bottle of bubbles!” She giggled, making it sound like she had already had a couple of drinks.
“Easy! I’ll see you tomorrow about seven.”
As the phone disconnected, I felt like a complete phony. I had just pretended to be excited and enthusiastic about a night out with the girls, when in reality all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, hide under the covers, and pretend that the past week hadn’t happened.
I had barely left the house since my night of stupidity with Joel. Even the possibility of running out of food didn’t deter my self-imposed isolation. I emailed out job applications and ordered clothes online—anything to avoid seeing people.
Then as I sat there, dreading a night out with my friends, I realized the ugly truth—I’d become a hermit, something I considered completely pathetic. Especially since the reason I’d become the shell of a person I once was because of a one night, alcohol-filled mistake with a gorgeous playboy.
With the decision firmly made, I jumped up and almost skipped into the shower. Minutes later, feeling refreshed and revitalized, I was out the door and walking towards the shopping centre. After three hours of intense retail therapy, which had my credit card melting and my fingers numb from the weight of the bags of shopping, I was on my way home feeling like a different person.
When I got home, I managed to refrain from checking my email and social media accounts. I didn’t want to know. I’d wait and see how long it took him to contact me, and whether, when he eventually did, it would be completely work related. Instead, I focused on getting ready for my night of fun with the girls, making sure I took the time to promise myself that I wouldn’t do something stupid again this week.
After an early night I woke up feeling refreshed and getting ready was just the distraction I needed. I started with a long luxurious bubble bath, ensuring I massaged lavender moisturizer into my freshly shaved legs, painted my nails a shade of pink so light you could barely see it at all and straightened my hair. When I checked the clock, I was surprised to see I had only an hour left before I had to head to Rhiannon’s’ place. I took care doing my makeup before slipping my new outfit and heels on.
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