Seeing Clearly

by Casey McMillin

  I felt the grip he had on the back of my neck lighten, which reminded me he'd been threatening to take me out back or something.

  "Whoa, whoa, are you threating me Mr. Perrin?"

  "Are you misbehaving, Gretchen?"

  "Just so we're clear though, Joel," I said, looking him in the eye. "You know I'm going to call you what I want, and you can't do anything about it, right?"

  He just stared at me, unaffected. "Gretchen, if you were mine, you'd be paying for that mouth of yours, I guarantee you that."

  The thought of being his made a rush of anticipation hit me like a tidal wave. I played it off, though. "It's a good thing I'm not yours," I said, with a syrupy sweet smile. Joel just turned away from me murmuring curses under his breath.

  After that little exchange, Joel and I had an unspoken truce. In fact, we barely spoke to each other at all. Conversation at the table was lively, and Joel and I both interacted with the people around us, forgetting about and/or ignoring the exchange we'd had at the beginning of dinner.

  During the dessert, Joel asked me if I'd be willing to ride with him by the house he just bought. He said the movers weren’t scheduled until next week, but he'd gotten the keys today, and was anxious to go take a look at the place. He promised to give me a ride back to the restaurant once we finished seeing the house, so I rode with him.

  He was driving a classic car, which didn't surprise me at all. It was in pristine condition with a low-rumbling engine that made me excited to take a ride. Of course, the show-quality car was our main topic of conversation during the first part of the trip to his new place. He told me it was a '69 Chevy Camaro Super Sport. Knowing he could do anything he put his mind to, I asked him if he'd been the one to restore the car. He said he liked the idea of working on a car, but didn't have enough time, so he bought this one in its current condition. I knew it wasn't his only vehicle because the one he was driving when I bummed a ride home from Vegas was an SUV.

  "How many cars do you have?" I asked. I could tell we were nearing his house, because we were on a dead end street and he was driving slowly. The neighborhood was gorgeous.

  "Three. You rode in the Audi on our way home from Vegas, and I have a truck too."

  "Some collection," I said, "hope you have a three car garage."

  Joel laughed.

  "The guy who built the place was a car collector. I have room to park at least ten cars."

  "What kind of house did you buy, Joel?" I knew he was rich, but how much room did a single guy need? As the question came from my mouth, we pulled up to a huge iron gate. The sides of the fence were covered in a gorgeous flowering vine. Joel typed a code into the keypad and the gate slowly began to swing open. "You have to pass security to go up your driveway? What are you a movie star?"

  Lately I'd been enjoying a small measure of fame as the new star of Paradise Island, but I never even considered the possibility of needing a gated house. In fact, I was still living in the small apartment I lived in before I ever got the job.

  "God knows I don't need all this stuff, but, yeah, I did buy it from a movie star."

  "Are you serious? Who?"

  "Bruce Willis."

  "Get. Out!" I said, pushing at his shoulder.

  "You're not supposed to be impressed by that, remember? You're a big star now too."

  "I am not. Not like Bruce Willis." I wasn't even close to Bruce Willis status. I got a good job doing something I loved, but it was just a day job compared to huge movie stars like him.

  Actually, being sort of famous came with its own perks. I didn't have issues with the paparazzi chasing me all over the place. In fact, Joel and his wonder goggles were probably more likely to be hounded by the camera toters than I was.

  Joel's house looked huge. He said it was because there wasn't a single piece of furniture in it, but I laughed and told him it'd still be the same size once the furniture got there. Our footsteps echoed on the tile floor as we walked through the main living room and into the kitchen. Even without furnishings, the place was amazing. It was a perfect mixture of Spanish and modern. It was a state of the art, commercial grade kitchen just like something you'd see in a restaurant, only cozier.

  We toured through the whole place, seeing one empty room after another. He told me a designer was taking care of all of the rooms except for the living room and his bedroom. He said he'd be doing those two rooms by himself with a little help from Rachel, who doesn't know the first thing about interior design.

  "I just don't want to feel like my house came straight out of a magazine. I wanted it to reflect me a little bit, you know? I may end up hating it and hiring a professional to do it in the long run, but I wanted to give it a shot."

  "No, I totally know what you're saying. I have a rich aunt who has one of those living rooms where the furniture is expensive and pristine. My mom said 'don't do this' or 'don’t do that' about Aunt Kathy's furniture so many times, it made me hate going over there. I remember thinking… I hope I never have fancy furniture you can't touch."

  "Exactly," Joel said. "I didn't have any rich aunts, but I can tell you right now my feet are going on the couch in my own house."

  Joel and I discussed furniture and the placement thereof for a good thirty minutes before we made our way onto the back patio. The pool and everything that surrounded it was like something from the set of Paradise Island. I felt like I'd been whisked away to some tropical paradise. Bruce Willis must not have needed his patio furniture, because unlike the interior of the house, this outdoor area was furnished beautifully.

  "Do you get to keep the furniture?" I asked. I figured the answer was yes since Joel had the key to the place.

  "Yeah, that was part of the deal. The furniture in the guesthouse was written into the contract too." He pointed to the far side of the pool. There was another house that I hadn't even noticed. It matched the main house architecturally, so I guess I just figured it was all connected. This guesthouse looked to be as big as the house I grew up in, and my parents raised five kids in that one.

  "So there's furniture in there?" I asked.

  "I hope there is… I paid for it." Joel was craning his neck to get a peek through one of the windows. "You wanna go check it out?" he asked.

  "Of course I want to check it out. I have to see what kind of furniture Bruce Willis picked out," I said. I headed in the direction of the guesthouse with no hesitation at all.

  ****

  Two hours later, Joel and I were still sitting in Bruce Willis' guesthouse, relaxing in the lap of luxury. The two of us weren't strangers to spending time together, and so far, the evening had been really comfortable. I was glad to have the chance to learn more about his work with science and he asked lots of questions about acting.

  I could tell he wasn't thrilled when I brought up Paradise Island, but that didn't apply to acting in general. He was quite curious about it as an art form, he just didn't want to hear anything about me doing love scenes, and I could tell he thought that was all I did on Paradise Island. There's actually quite a bit more action and drama then there are love scenes, but I wasn't going to try to explain myself to him. Maybe I was just injured by not being good enough for him, and I didn't think he even deserved an explanation from me.

  But, geez, it was hard not to speak up and say something. You'd think I was a porn star by the way he talked. Whatever. We'd managed to mostly avoid the topic tonight, and had actually shared an enjoyable couple of hours with each other. Bruce Willis left us a few bottles of wine in the wine rack. We couldn't find a corkscrew or wine glasses, but Joel had one on a Swiss Army knife in the glove compartment of his car, and we decided we could just drink straight out of the bottle. We'd finished off one and were starting on our second when, out of nowhere, he said, "You know I want you, right?"

  "Yeah, I can see that." I said with a sarcastic expression like he was just catching on to something totally obvious. I gave him a regretful smile. "Aw, don't feel bad, I really want to jump your bones too. It's too
bad we'd never work."

  "Remind me why we won't work," he said. His green eyes searched mine with the utmost sincerity.

  "You can't ask me questions like that after a bottle of wine… I'm liable to say a bunch of things I don't mean and make all sorts of mistakes."

  "I'm feeling like we could stand to make a few mistakes," he said.

  This would be so much easier if he wasn't so freaking gorgeous. His thick black hair was wavy enough to have little flips here and there. I wanted so badly to reach up and run my hands through it. He wasn't trying to be seductive with me. He just observed me with a sweet, sincere expression, which included this half-smile that I was really starting to love. I was so turned on, I couldn't think straight.

  He must have sensed my attraction. He closed the three feet of space that was between us and cupped my face in his hands. "I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered. His thumbs rubbed my jawline, coaxing me to relax. All I could do was shake my head yes. I tried to say "yes" or "okay" but all that came out was a little whimper.

  Maybe I hadn't been fully relaxed when he kissed me at the party. Maybe I was just in the mood to enjoy a good kiss tonight. Either way, Joel's mouth on mine was about the best thing I could imagine at that moment. He was so deliberate with his lips alone, that by the time his tongue touched my mouth, I felt somehow weak and urgent at the same time. He coaxed my mouth open with his tongue… short, gentle licks that let me know he wanted in. I breathed in the smell of sandalwood, and whatever reservations I still had went right out the window. I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue thrust into me.

  I'd never in my life been so swept away by the taste of another human being. I couldn't get enough of him. He kissed me for a long time before he broke the kiss, pulled back, and regarded my face.

  "Can I have you?" he asked. The blunt question surprised me, but I didn't even take a second to think about it.

  "Yes," I said.

  "I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you say yes, there's no turning back. So take a second to think about it. (He paused.) Can I ha—"

  "Yes." He stood to his feet and bent down to scoop me into his arms. "Aaahh!" I yelped, feeling a little off balance at being hoisted up so quickly.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "The bedroom." For some reason, our relocation brought me back to reality for a second. I wondered if this was a good idea. He looked down at me, and one glance at that face made me remember what an excellent idea this was.

  "I think I have protection in my wallet, but I'm not positive."

  "I think I have something in the bottom of my purse, but it's old and probably has several holes in it."

  He smiled and shrugged. "I don’t think I want to use a nasty, old, bottom of your purse condom with holes."

  I laughed. "I don't blame you. You can look and see if you have anything in your wallet, but if not, we can just be careful. And, in case you were wondering, I'm clean. We had to take blood tests with the physical for the show."

  He flinched slightly when I referred to "the show", but just asked, "How do you know I'm clean?"

  "I don't. But I figure it's a safe guess for someone who appreciates science like you do." He looked at me like he was surprised he actually understood my logic. Still standing, he set me on the huge bed. It was covered in a white goose-down comforter and piled high with pillows.

  "Well I am clean too," he said. "Not that you should trust me, but I am." He fished in his wallet to see if he had protection, but came up empty handed. He tossed his wallet onto the bedroom floor. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed that to the floor too.

  Thank God for guys who know the value of a good workout routine. I thought. I knew he'd be hard-bodied because I could feel his muscles underneath his clothes during the times we'd made contact. I didn't know he'd look this good. I was smiling at my good fortune. He smiled back at me, melting my insides.

  "What are you smiling at?" He was on the bed now, crawling toward me like some sort of big jungle cat. All he had on was a pair of dark jeans that hugged his hips. He looked dangerous. At this moment, I was willing to let this creature eat me alive. I lay back on the bed with my arms stretched over my head. A willing sacrifice.

  He lifted my shirt up over my head before slowly removing my jeans. Before I knew it, not a stitch of clothing was separating him and me.

  "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said.

  "I was just about to tell you the same thing." I was writhing with anticipation as he hovered over me. He pressed his hips into mine, letting me feel what he possessed between his legs. I could feel the hard length of him bearing down on me. I couldn't wait any longer. I reached down to take hold of him so I could guide him inside me. He moaned at my touch, which made me burn and ache. I found myself feeling slightly apprehensive but mostly thrilled when I realized how big he was. I carefully placed the swollen head of his cock at my entrance, letting him know I wanted him inside. His hips ground down, forcing a good portion of his length into me in one movement. I cried out.

  "Ooohhhhhh."

  He got really still. "You okay?"

  "Yes I'm okay," I said, though my voice sounded a little weak. "I like the feel of you inside me. I want all of it now."

  Joel let out what could only be called a growl before he thrust into me all the way and then began a wonderfully slow rhythm. That rhythm gradually increased, filling me over and over again until I felt like I was free falling. For a few seconds there, the pleasure was overwhelming. He was motionless inside me as I writhed with the rise and fall, then the aftershocks of my orgasm.

  Once I came back to my senses, he began to pump into me again, not stopping until he finished what he started out to do. The next few hours were some of the best of my life. We didn't stop after just one time. We went on pleasuring each other until both of us were completely spent… the type of spent where you knew you'd be sore in the morning. I'd never experienced anything like Joel Perrin, and I was a little afraid of what I was getting myself into. It was two in the morning when I looked at the clock on the nightstand.

  Chapter 6

  Joel

  It was six in the morning when I looked at the clock on the nightstand. I'd fallen asleep with Gretchen in my arms, and now I was in an empty bed. I felt around for her just to make sure, but she was gone. I turned the lamp on and immediately noticed the handwritten note she'd left.

  It read, "Joel, I think we can both agree we had a wonderful evening. Let's leave it at that. Not sure I could continue this sort of thing without complicating it with feelings. I have to work in the morning, and I need a few hours sleep to function, so I called a cab to take me to my car. Please don't take this the wrong way (though it may be a relief) but please don't try to call me. It's just better that way. Take care, Gretchen."

  I crumbled the note and threw it across the room as I fell back onto the bed. Who the hell knows what girls want? For God's sake, I didn't even know what I wanted. Half of me wanted to chalk it up as a fun night and nothing more, and the other half wanted to chase the girl down and never let her out of my sight again. She was definitely under my skin, but stomaching the hazards of her occupation was not an option for me. I was way too jealous for that. Gretchen was probably right when she said I should just leave her alone.

  I was feeling entirely too confused to go back to sleep, so I decided to hit the gym. Being that it was Saturday, I knew I'd be able to take it easy and make up for the lost sleep if I needed to. I wondered why Gretchen said she had to be at work in her note. I didn't think they filmed on the weekend. I told myself it didn't matter and I needed to get the bloody redhead off my mind. The whole situation was just so much more complicated than it should have been because I'd never experienced a physical connection with anyone like I did with Gretchen last night.

  I had to get to the gym. I needed to do about a thousand pushups before I'd feel better. Prior to reading her note, I was physically spent… but her note left me feeling wound
up and pissed off. I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

  I drove away from my new house thinking I'd probably never set foot into that guesthouse again. Doing that would only remind me of last night.

  ****

  The next week was Thanksgiving and when I officially moved into the new house. I squeezed four days work into two, and was done with my workweek by Tuesday afternoon. The movers and delivery guys were in and out of the new place all day Wednesday, and before I knew it, I was waking up on Thanksgiving morning in my new house. As a general rule, I ignored holidays. I didn't have an ideal childhood, and usually the thought of other families getting together and enjoying each other's company only made me frustrated.

  But something felt wrong with waking up alone in this big house on a holiday. I resolved to call Celia on the off chance she didn't have Thanksgiving plans. My relationship with Celia was simple. We went out with each other when it worked out for both of us, and neither of us got our feelings hurt if we didn't speak to each other for a week at a time.

  Celia and I had slept together a few times, but our relationship always remained uncomplicated afterward. I always use protection with her. In fact, Gretchen was the first and only girl I hadn't used it with.

  Gretchen. It seemed like I was reminded of her every time I turned around.

  The guys who'd installed my television and sound system had Paradise Island (Gretchen's show) playing on the TV. I knew from Rachel that this was Gretchen's character's first week back on the show. Of course, since all the drama centered around her return this week, she was constantly on camera. Every time I glanced at the big screen television, her face was on it. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was so beautiful.

  If this appearance on the show would have been typical, I thought I could handle being in a relationship with her. Since Gretchen's character was just reappearing she wasn't thrown into a romantic situation yet. But I knew what kind of show this was. I knew it wouldn't be long before one of those guys had his tongue in her mouth. I could feel the blood coursing through my veins at the very thought of it. I shook my head free of those thoughts, and decided to call Celia to see what her Thanksgiving plans were.