Saving You Saving Me (You & Me Trilogy)

by Kailin Gow

  “Ah, Michael, this is Mr. McGregor. Collins McGregor.”

  “Of the Collins Companies,” Michael said. He reached out to shake Collins McGregor’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet the man who had been so generous in donations.” He looked Collins McGregor up and down, in the way guys do when sizing up their competition. “I hope you enjoyed today’s service.”

  “I did,” Collins McGregor said. “Especially the piano playing part.” He looked over at me.

  “Sam is quite talented,” Michael said, looking at me in admiration. He placed his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close.

  “So I’ve found,” Collins McGregor said, his eyes looked at me possessively. His hands had bunched up into fists by his side, although he looked perfectly calm.

  “Michael,” I said, feeling Collins’ eyes burning at me. “I have to go. Mr. McGregor and I were just about to head out.”

  Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly then, and I’d never seen him look angry. “Sam,” he said looking from Collins McGregor to me. “You’re a grown woman now, just be careful. I worry about you.”

  “Michael,” I said, rolling my eyes. “When have you started to worry about me?”

  “I do,” he said simply.

  “Oh Michael, there you are!” a very pretty redhead in a white eyelet sundress walked up. Emily Johnson, a senior at UC Irvine and the head of her sorority there, glanced over at me. “Hi, Sam,” she said coolly, before turning her attention to Michael. She stopped and turned around like a ballerina to look at Collins McGregor, and did a double take. “I know you,” she said. “You’re in the Newport News and all the society papers. You’re Collins McGregor of The Collins Companies.” She extended a hand. “I’m Emily Johnson.” Her eyes perused Collins McGregor’s body before reaching his face, and it was clear she had lost interest in Michael or whatever she was going to discuss with him.

  Collins McGregor took her hand and shook it. Then he turned to me, grabbed my hand and said, “I believe we were just leaving.” He nodded at Michael before pulling me out of the hallway, out of the church, and into his silver sports car.

  He opened his car door and said, “Get in.”

  I slid into the passenger side, dropping my purse on the ground.

  He pulled the car out of the lot and expertly maneuvered it to head down the hill the church was on and onto the main street. He was silent for a while, his face expressionless.

  “Um, nice car,” I said. “You handle it well.”

  He smiled, the tension around the corners of his mouth gone. “Yeah, I like it. It’s my baby. An Aston Martin.”

  “Like James Bond?” I asked, arching my eyebrows and cocking my head slightly.

  He looked over at me then and there it was again, that look. Dark, hungry.

  I licked my lips.

  “Sam,” he said softly. “Do you realize how sexy you look when you do that?”

  “I didn’t realize I was doing something sexy,” I said looking at him with wide-eyed innocence.

  Collins McGregor looked down and said, “Perhaps you don’t. I forgot, you’re so innocent. So young.” He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it off his face.

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. His profile was as beautiful as a sculpted statue. His hair windswept, and that tortured look. Oh my goodness. I wanted to wipe that look of anguish off his face, to touch him, to kiss him.

  “This is a mistake,” he said, his eyes like steel as he resigned himself to a decision. “What am I doing? We should head back.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What is a mistake?” I reached out my hand to touch his on the steering wheel. My heart was beating so fast. “Tell me, Collins. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re so cryptic, and I don’t know what you want. All I know is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.” I used a finger to trace his hand on the steering wheel, and heard him take a sharp intake.

  “Please don’t do that,” he said.

  I pulled my hand away from his, and looked out the window. He sighed, but kept driving.

  I felt like crying all of a sudden. I hadn’t felt so much for a man before, hadn’t wanted a man this much before to touch me, to kiss me. Collins McGregor with his Hot Bod and All Sexiness had swept me off my feet from day one and I couldn’t help this longing, of wanting. “If you didn’t feel the same, why did you come find me at church?”

  He kept his eyes on the road, but he glanced down briefly before saying, very softly, barely a whisper. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, too.” He turned his icy blue eyes to me then, pinning me to my seat. He took a breath and asked, “Do you have any feelings for him?”

  “Who?” I asked, too happy about him saying he was attracted to me, too.

  “Michael,” he said simply. “He definitely has feelings for you.”

  “I don’t know why,” I said. “I never once encouraged him…”

  “You don’t have to,” Collins McGregor said. “Look at you. You’re beautiful in a stunningly natural way. Your full shiny hair, your big green eyes, flawless skin, and perfect body…and you’re sweet, smart as a whip, and sassy. You don’t even know how special you are, do you?”

  My heart jumped. He thought I was beautiful like that? I wanted to protest, thinking of all the flaws I had physically and psychologically. Don’t forget mentally, too, Lola and Serious Susan added.

  “So, answer me,” Collins McGregor said. “I need to know if you have feelings for him or anyone else.”

  I swallowed. Such possessiveness. “I don’t,” I said. “I’ve never felt anything like this before, but all I know is that I want to get to know you better, I want to be with you.”

  Collins McGregor’s eyes opened wide and shut closed before opening again. “You don’t know what you’re saying, so I’m going to show you, to put some sense into you so you know what you’re getting into.”

  Uh oh. That didn’t sound good.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “Are we still going to Seattle’s Coffee?”

  “No,” Collins McGregor said. “I’m taking you to my house.”

  Chapter 8

  I knew I should have said something, to protest about going to his house. It’s what girls were expected to do. But having been thinking about him every day for two weeks, and burning with the desire to know him better, I went with him. But only after I called Mom and left a message on her phone. We weaved through Sunday traffic to head up the highway headed to Newport Coast where there were some of the most expensive homes in California. Finally, he drove up a winding road to a remote cliff, and a house, built like a modern castle. We drove through the black gates in front and turned the corner to the garage area.

  He had a ten-car garage, bigger than my entire house. I gulped. His house reminded me of those homes you’d have to get in a helicopter up high to see all of it, courtyard, tennis court, mini golf course, basketball court, swimming pool, and all.

  Collins parked his car in the garage, came to my side, and helped me out. “The previous owner seemed to like collecting cars,” he said gesturing at the large garage filled with four cars - large black Cadillac Escalade, a red Ferrari, the silver Aston Martin, and an old beat up looking rusted red Toyota pickup, the words “ota” rubbed out so it just had the word “Toy” on it. “I only want a few,” he grinned. “Cars are a weakness for me. Not exactly a vice, which I must admit to having quite a few.”

  “Really?” I asked, intrigued. Collins McGregor had vices. Who knew? Lola raised her hand, while Serious Susan said, ‘That’s why you’re drawn to him, dear.’

  Collins McGregor followed my gaze to the red pickup and said, “There’s a long story to that which I’ll tell you someday.”

  I thrilled at hearing him say “someday” as though it was a promise to be with me. Lola was grinning a sly wicked smile. I couldn’t help smiling that sly wicked smile at Collins McGregor, dipping my face down and looking up at him with a look that asked him to come to me, to
tell me.

  Collins McGregor stopped in his tracks and all my breath flew out my mouth, leaving my lips parted and my index finger in my mouth.

  “If you don’t stop playing with your mouth, I might have to join in,” he growled low. Against his resolve, he rushed over, grabbed me around my waist and pushed me up against the fender of the truck, before he lowered his lips to mine, kissing first my top lip and then my bottom before using his tongue to open my mouth wider. He pulled my face closer as his tongue explored my mouth, making me lose all thoughts of consciousness. I moaned up against him, and he deepened the kiss while I pressed up closer, wanting more, needing more. My hands roamed his strong muscular back, from his broad shoulders to the narrow waist and hips. His tongue tasted so good, like honey as I touched it with mine, sucking hard on it until he was groaning and pushing his hips into me. He wrapped both his hands around my waist and lifted me until my legs were straddling his waist. With his mouth never leaving mine, he lifted me again, carrying me up unto the truck bed and depositing me on top of a soft mattress covered in flannel.

  His mouth continued kissing me, but now his lips was kissing me on my jawline, neck, and throat, small fluttery kisses that made me want more. He kissed his way to the top of my chest before leaning back and unbuttoning his shirt, while keeping his blazing eyes on mine. “You’re beautiful,” he said before his tongue shot out to lick the skin around my neckline. “Flawless, like a porcelain doll,” he said. “Just like I’d want my girl to be.”

  I shivered at his words. He felt me trembled and as soon as it all began, he pulled back, leaving me wanting more, but too afraid to.

  He was breathing hard as he ran his hand through his hair. “I got ahead of myself,” he said, “Come with me. As you know, Miss Sullivan, I’m in the public eye, whether I want to be or not. I’m also in a position where I have to be careful. My lawyers tell me I have to do this to protect my assets, myself, and my shareholders should any scandal come up. Believe me, this is the least romantic thing I’ve ever done, but having been burned by a former girl I dated once, I have to do this with everyone.”

  “Everyone?” I asked. “What do you do with everyone?”

  “I have them sign a pledge. It’s a sign of good faith. It’s how I can fully let go of my guard.”

  “I didn’t know you had any,” I said innocently.

  Collins McGregor looked down before he lifted his frosted blue eyes to me. “I have quite a few. You develop that when you’re on the streets, sleeping on the streets, and protecting yourself while you live off the streets. So as much as I would have liked to continue kissing you, I need you to agree on certain things in order for any relationship with me to work.”

  My head shot back. Lola and Serious Susan had their hands to their hips.

  He lifted me up from the truck bed and led me into his house where there were travertine floors, limestone walls, everything tastefully decorated in an Italian Renaissance style. It was modern, classic, yet elegant at the same time. “You have good taste,” I murmured.

  “When it comes to women, hopefully,” he said looking at me, his eyes still intense and burning. “I enjoy the classics, but all this you see here was done by Candice Berry, an interior decorator who’s used to decorating the Ritz and other hotels.”

  “I love it,” I said looking at all the golds, creams, and yellows that decorated the rooms.

  “I haven’t shown you the entire house yet so you may reserve judgment until later,” Collins McGregor said.

  “All of what I see, I like,” I said smiling at him, happy to be with him, having finally kissed him in what could be described as an incredible first kiss. My eyes darted to his sensual lips, and all I wanted to do was thoroughly kiss him.

  Collins McGregor saw that hungry look I had on my face, and he tugged at me so that I was in his arms again. “So you want more,” he growled, “happy to oblige.” His lips were on mine so fast and so passionately that I was lost in his kisses, wanting more, needing more. He lifted me up again by the waist and carried me to a long low sofa covered in soft butter leather. He laid me down gently and proceeded to kiss my temple, my hair, and my lips again.

  I was melting against him, I wanted to go beyond kissing. I unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, tossed it, and got rewarded with the glimpse of his bare tanned chest and rock hard abdomen. “Hmm, I somehow pictured you with less packs,” I said, “but this is a pleasant surprise.” I ran my fingers slowly down his chest, relishing the touch of his bare skin. “You must be working out a lot to get this,” I said leaning into his chest to plant a kiss on his stomach.

  He inhaled sharply as I kissed him again and again. I could spend the whole day kissing him and feeling his well-sculpted chest and arms all the while getting closer and closer to the next step, except Serious Susan took over reminding me why I shouldn’t let passion rule my senses. It was me who pulled away this time, harshly. Memories of me at thirteen, kissing a boy who was fourteen, French kissing, and touching. Everywhere. Then the shame. That look of hurt and disappointment on my father’s face. The anger, too. Then the argument between my parents with loud shouts and screams. My mother in tears and my father furious. I shuddered, remembering how disgusted, how shameful I felt. Dad had taken me to the restroom to wash my mouth with soap. Since then on, I hadn’t looked at any boys or tried to have any romantic feelings for them in case it became a Billy Incident. That was the day Serious Susan showed up, making sure to rein me from going too far or even to first base with any boy.

  That was the day Lola, my passionate devil may care side, was banished to the back of my mind, never to appear…until Mr. Hot Bod with Smoky Eyes came walking into my life. “I can’t,” I said. “Not now.”

  Collins McGregor held my face in his hands as he said, “Hey, that’s ok.” He ran his hand in his hair and stood up. “Maybe that’s for the best. You’re so innocent. That’s what drew me to you, but you act mature for your age too.”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?” I asked.

  Collins McGregor took a deep breath before answering. “I don’t want to, Sam. I don’t want to stop seeing you. I keep thinking about you, though, but you’re so pure, so innocent, I’m going to ruin you. I’m too dark and dangerous for you. You need someone like Michael.”

  “But I…” I felt so stupid thinking someone like Collins McGregor would like me, would even look at me when he had starlets and models hanging on his arms.

  “Oh Sam,” he said, sitting down next to me and folding me into his arms as tears began rolling down my cheeks. Serious Susan was horrified. I’d become emotional now. “Don’t cry,” Collins said, kissing away my tears and rocking me back and forth in his arms. “This is very hard for me, too, because I think we have something here, and I really want to have a relationship with you.”

  “I do, too,” I murmured. “I’m not so innocent, I’m not a child, Collins.” There I said his name without his surname. I was relating to him on his level, as an adult. “Please,” I said softly. “I want to continue seeing you. We’ve just started, and I want to get to know you, find out what makes you tick, what you love, what you don’t love…”

  Collins chuckled. “Inquisitive, aren’t you?”

  “No, just passionate. I really do want to get to know you better. I like you a lot,” I said.

  “Then I’ll show you what I expect from us being together, Sam. Take a look and if you agree to it, then we can continue this liaison.”

  I’d never been in a romantic relationship nor dealt with liaisons. I just nodded. “Ok, I’ll take a look and decide.” At this point, I was inclined to say “Yes,” even if he purported to be an alien with two heads.

  That was not the case, I thought, as he led me to his bedroom, which was covered in grey suede fabric on the walls, black carpeting, and steel chrome everywhere. On one side of the room, there were framed gold record awards. From his room, I could see out to the cliff and the Pacific Ocean beyond it. His room wa
s on the highest floor of the house, and it had the most breathtaking view.

  He opened the balcony glass door and pulled me out to stand facing the ocean, a soft sea breeze flowing through carrying the fresh smell of saltiness and linens. “Would you like to sit here or come in while I show you what I want out of this relationship?”

  Oh my goodness. I didn’t know people had conditions set up before entering a relationship. This sounded like some kind of pre-nup, but before dating. This sounded crazy.

  Collins came back with a cup of latte for me and one for him. “I was lucky,” he said, “I caught Mrs. Anderson before she left to shop for groceries, and she made us some latte.” He smiled his charming boyish smile that made him look closer to 20 than 24. I couldn’t help grinning back, as I took a sip of the latte.

  “It’s good,” I said. “Mrs. Anderson’s a keeper!”

  “She is,” Collins said. “But I can’t date her. She’s married, but I can date you,” he said smiling that sunny smile of his that had my heart melting.

  “So, let’s get this over with. What is it that you wanted me to agree to before we start dating?”

  Collins pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me. His smile was gone and in its place was a look of anxiety and nervousness.

  I signed the first document after reading it through.

  He seemed to relax after I signed the confidentiality agreement. I knew enough that it was necessary, especially for someone who was the richest and most eligible bachelor in the country, and if I wanted him to trust me, I’d gladly sign it.

  The next document had me staring at the five conditions in utter bafflement. If I wanted to be Collins’ girlfriend, it was expected that I:

  1. Must keep my hair long and if I wanted to cut it short, I must get Collins’ permission.

  2. Must take care of myself so I look my best, and must get approval from Collins on the type of clothes I would wear when going out with him.