by Liv Bennett
She races behind me and opens the door for me. “Are you going to call me?”
I hate the hesitation in her voice, but I can’t help the instant turn-off in my head. “Sure!” The lie rolls out of my lips easily as I move to her face and leave a quick kiss on her cheek. “Take care.”
“Good night.” She waves after me.
CH 8 - The Reminder
~
I ask Daney to drive me to Julie’s home, hoping to find her there so she can explain to me what the hell went wrong with the woman she picked for me. Julie frowns when she opens the door and finds out it’s no other than me, her boss, bothering her late in the night.
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour. Can I come in?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes at me with a questioning look and adjusts the belt of her green robe as she lets me in. I come close to letting my eyes run down below her hips to see if she’s wearing any pants beneath her robe but hurry inside to shake away such inappropriate thoughts. I don’t have a single idea of what’s wrong with me. The more women I fuck, the more I want, it seems. It’s not completely wrong, after all it’s a biological response, but I shouldn’t allow any sexual thoughts about Julie to contaminate my mind and ruin a perfectly good friendship.
Oblivious to my momentary distraction, Julie curls up on an armchair and pulls the hem of her robe over her legs, covering everything ‘til her ankles. Good girl!
I get myself comfortable on the large couch and fill her in on the details of my date including the part where Felicia eagerly swallowed my cock.
“So what if she blew you. She must have been thinking that’s the standard treatment you get from women, and she didn’t want to fall behind in the race,” Julie defends Felicia.
“What race? All I could think of afterward was trying to calculate how many other men she must have sucked off.”
“You, of all men, have to wonder that!” She rolls her eyes, rightly so, but that’s what it is and I can’t change my tastes.
“It’s really disappointing. She was so sweet at first. I was impressed by her kindness and generosity to the people in need.”
“Well, she’s generous for sure, for helping out with your load on your first date,” Julie points out with a giggle.
Ignoring her comment, I continue my pouting. “The whole conversation about me getting married was about finding the right girl, and I’ll risk sounding like an asshole, but a girl who has had a lot of men in her life makes me suspicious of her loyalty to me. I don’t want to be cheated on a few years down the road. Does that make sense?”
She shakes her head. “The same logic applies to you. You’ve had, what, thousands of women in your life. So, that makes you prone to cheat, too, doesn’t it?”
“No. Not necessarily. When I make a decision, I follow through with it. If I decide to commit to a girl, I won’t stray. But I must be absolutely sure of her loyalty for that to happen. Any single doubt, even temporary, will ruin it for me.”
She takes in a long breath of air, giving her head another disapproving shake. “I don’t get it.”
“That’s okay. I must say I was impressed by her until the last minutes. I even thought she could easily win my heart and turn me into a happy puppy, but she blew it.”
“What comes now?” she asks. “Do you still want to continue dating? I have 19 other candidates I thought you might like.”
“Sure. The worst case scenario, I’ll get my nuts rocked off by nineteen other women.”
“You know you’re talking to a girl, right?” She winces and gets to her feet, her arms tightly crossed across her chest.
“Yeah. Kind of. I’m very sorry. I’ll cut the bullshit.” I look around the living room, not wanting to leave soon. If I go back to my home, I’ll probably find an excuse to drink. “Do you want to watch a movie together? We can order pizza, too.”
Her face beams instantly, and she smiles. “I’d love that. I bought He’s just not that into you last month and never got around to watching it.”
I almost start rolling my eyes in boredom, but I restrain myself and nod sheepishly.
“Just kidding,” she says and laughs. “I have Ender’s Game, Thor, and Pacific Rim. Which one do you want?”
“Wow, really? All sound good. You pick.”
“Let’s start with Thor. We can change to something else if it gets boring.” She stands and, on her way to the DVD player, trips on a chair leg and falls on her butt. Her elbows hit the floor and she groans in pain.
“Shouldn’t you have figured out this whole walking thing by now?” I joke as I run to help her up, but stop cold in my tracks, when I notice her silky white thighs exposed under her robe. Her skin looks soft and smooth, and my fingers twitch to run along the perfect smoothness.
Her crimson cheeks catch my attention, and I realize my indiscreet gazing. She quickly covers herself, pushes up to her feet, and casually walks to the DVD player to start the movie. All the while I gaze at her, paralyzed and speechless. Perhaps to escape the intense air in the room, she goes to the kitchen to order pizza and coke.
As my mind fights to erase the image of her bare legs, I find myself settling back into the couch. When the movie starts, she settles next to me on the couch, pulling a blanket over her.
“How come you never go out on dates?” I ask.
She frowns, looking insulted by my question. “I do go out on dates.”
“I mean with someone other than yourself,” I joke with a laugh, while she picks up a cushion and throws it at me. I catch it and tuck in beneath my arm, still curious about her answer. “When was the last time you let a man take you out?”
She fixes her eyes on the ceiling, thinking. “Um, I had lunch with Tony, from accounting last month, but nothing came of it. We have very different expectations out of life.”
“Is that it?”
“And I think he wanted me to put in a good word for him.” She smiles, but I can hear the hurt hidden in her words.
“Oh, it must hard to be a woman in a high position.”
“I’m just a secretary. It hardly counts as a high position.”
“You’re not just a secretary. You’re more than that. You’re my right arm. No, you’re both my arms. I wouldn’t be where I am today without your help. I’m well aware of the difficulties you’ve had and I appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for me.”
“Jeez, Zane. Did Felicia run some kind of exorcism on you and chase away the demon inside you without you realizing it?”
“Ha ha.” I reach out and ruffle her hair, which is loose around her shoulders. “Remind me to fire Tony the first thing Monday. I have no patience with suck-ups who try to use women to climb up the hierarchy.”
“You don’t have to fire him on my account. He’s good at what he does.”
I’ll probably not fire him right away, but I’ll have my eye on him and end his contract on his first failure. Disrespecting someone important to me is a no-go in my book, but I don’t need to explain myself to Julie. She should know me by now, plus I don’t want to ruin the movie for her.
Our pizza arrives, and we eat it from the box, without bothering to get plates. I drink coke right out of the bottle, too, and offer it to Julie. She takes it from my hands and gulps it down, then quickly realizes her mistake. “Eww, does that mean I kissed Felicia by drinking from the same bottle as you?”
I laugh and grab the bottle out of her hands.
“Did you kiss her on the lips after the deed?” she asks, her eyes narrowed.
I blink, trying to understand her question, then the bulb lights up. She’s asking if the bottle has any residuals from my release. If I had kissed Felicia after she blew me, I’d have a taste of my sperm in my mouth and have passed it on to Julie with the bottle of coke.
The idea of smearing Julie’s lips with my seed is a turn-on that I have no way to act upon, so I quickly shake my head. “No, I didn’t.”
She looks away without saying a word, but never again
touches the bottle throughout the movie. I assume she finds promiscuous men not charming. Somehow, the thought settles into my stomach like a heavy rock. I put down the pizza slice and pretend to watch the movie while all I’m doing is stealing sideways glances at the concentrated expression on her face.
If I want a solid, stable person as a partner, I should become one before anything else. Maybe it’s karma that presents me with women who take sex-related matters lightly. After all, isn’t what you give, what you get?
At the end of the movie, I start to get up but notice Julie is asleep, her mouth slightly open and saliva dripping from the corner of her lips. I smile in amusement.
Her head is uncomfortably positioned against the back of the couch, and she’ll probably wake up with a neck ache from that position. I consider leaving her that way, but the idea of her being in pain isn’t something I can lightly overlook. So, I call her name to wake her. Rather than waking up, she lets out a loud snore. Her face looks hilarious from that angle, so I keep watching her for a minute, then decide to carry her to her bedroom.
She continues sleeping despite the movement when I slip my arms beneath her body and lift her up. She’s feather light, but the way she sprawls across the tiny space in my arms with her legs completely exposed makes for an awkward moment as I carry her into her bedroom. Carefully, I lay her on her bed and tuck her under the comforter.
Her hair falls over her face as her head hits the pillow. Tenderly, I push away the thick strands, unable to take my eyes away from the breathtaking beauty of her relaxed features. This isn’t lust or physical attraction. This is like watching her inner being, her true self, flash across her face without worry or anger creasing her smooth skin. Her beauty is both calming and purifying.
Suddenly, the feeling of guilt for secretly admiring her tightens my chest. I’m no different than the men who took advantage of her and forced her into dirty sexual acts. She wasn’t consenting then, and she’s not consenting to my inappropriate admiration now. If awake, there’s no way in hell she’d let me in her bedroom to start with.
Quickly, I move away from her bed, not wanting to trespass in her personal space any more than I already have, and start to walk out of her bedroom. Just then, a picture on her nightstand grabs my attention and stops me in my tracks. It’s a picture of her with my mother in the garden of our home at the time.
I hold the picture, lifting it up close to my face to see the details. In the background, I’m sitting at a table with Ace and Chloe, playing cards and eating cake. I remember the day. How could I have forgotten it? It was Mom’s last birthday, three months before she took her life and left us defenseless in Michael’s maniacal hands.
Melancholy and sadness flood my chest. I miss her…her loving hugs, tender voice, even her constant worry over us, her children. But, in this picture, she’s staring at the camera with a carefree grin. I can hear my heart cracking in two with pain. She could have lived. She’d finally have had a chance to be truly happy after Michael’s death. Why didn’t she push through the harsh days and stay with us?
I wish I’d noticed the change in her behavior in those last days before she took the plunge and ended her life. I wish I could have stopped her. A sob pushes up my throat, and I hurriedly set the photo back on the nightstand and rush out of Julie’s bedroom.
As I approach the front door of her apartment, I realize I have a problem. The door locks only from the inside, and if I head out and only pull the door behind me, it’ll just close, without locking. This is L.A., and in L.A., no residence is safe, if not securely locked. I can look for and find the key to the door, but I’ll be locking Julie in her own house. She’s screwed if she doesn’t have a second key.
Letting out a loud sigh, I push the door closed, turn the lock down, and throw myself on the couch in the living room. I’ll have to spend the night on the couch, whether Julie likes my presence in her place or not.
CH 9 - The Breakfast
~
Since I’ll be playing Julie’s bodyguard for the night, I might as well enjoy my stay at her place. For me to enjoy myself, I’ll need liquor, or else I won’t be able to blink an eye tonight with the thoughts of my mother weighing me down.
I search for anything with alcohol in it and only find a half-finished bottle of red wine in the fridge. I gulp the whole damn thing down standing by the fridge and throw the empty bottle in the recycle bin. Everything is clean and neatly organized in Julie’s kitchen, including her recycle bin. And I know for a fact she’s not the kind of woman to spend her hard-earned money on housemaids. So, she must be spending a huge amount of time cleaning up her home.
While I wait for the alcohol to take its toll on my body and numb me, I go through her DVD collection. She’s got several rom-coms, which is to be expected, and also a variety of horror movies, like Lost Highway, The Shining, Rosemary’s Baby, and It. Who would have guessed she’d have a dark side to her?
Picking up the Lost Highway DVD, I place it in the player and lie down on the couch. Fortunately, the effect of alcohol blended with the intensity of the movie distracts me enough to push the memories of my mother to the back of my mind, and soon my eyelids feel heavy and I fall asleep.
~
I’m vaguely aware of someone lingering around, but my head throbs with pain, and if my memory doesn’t fail me, it’s the aftermath of drinking half a bottle of wine way too quickly.
I can’t open my eyes just yet, but my ears quickly tune to the faint sounds around me. Slaps of bare feet across the hardwood floor, opening and closing of doors, water running, and low hums of a woman. That woman must be Julie and she must be contemplating my unwelcome sleepover on her couch.
I roll my head to the source of the noise and force my eyes open, only to see Julie biting an apple and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her body.
She’s not contemplating my sleepover. She’s not aware of it at all, which is why she doesn’t look bothered when she pushes the edges of the towel between her thighs to dry her intimate parts. Not much of her long, lean legs is left to the imagination as she thoroughly dries herself, while taking big bites of her apple. And at one point, she even bends down to dry her toes and I catch a quick glimpse of her butt cheeks, my eyes ready to jump out of their sockets. Holly heavens!
The sight is disturbing, but also extremely arousing. I should stop eye-fucking her and give her the privacy she thinks she has. As difficult as it feels, I force my eyes to close and pretend to be sleeping. A few minutes pass before I hear a shriek accompanied by a low “Oh, my God!” and something drops on the floor, possibly the apple she’s been holding.
My heart races beneath my chest. She knows. She must have figured out I’ve been peeping. This is worse than a million-dollar lawsuit for sexual harassment, it’s simply disrespectful to the woman who has stood by me no matter what.
I should have asked Daney to wait by her door rather than trying to play her bodyguard and majorly failing at it. The only thing she wants protected is her dignity, and I’m stomping all over it with my dirty feet.
I hear her leaving the living room for a few minutes, possibly to put on clothes, and then feel her coming back and hovering over me. This is my cue to open my eyes. I do my absolute best to assure her I’ve been sleeping the whole time. My eyelids open slowly; I glance around with an obvious look of disorientation. I even make sure to jerk when I move my eyes up to her face.
“Julie, what are you doing here?” I ask with a loud yawn and sit up, rubbing my eyes.
“As far as I’m concerned, this is my condo, and the real question to be asked here is what are you doing here?”
“You fell asleep on the couch. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t budge. Then I carried you to your bed. I couldn’t leave because your door wouldn’t lock, so I stayed.” I can’t help it, my eyes do a quick sweep of her body. She has a pink t-shirt and black yoga tights, which is a turn-off after catching her with just a towel on.
“Oh.” Her eyes da
rt around, her expression uncomfortable. “There’s a bed in the guest bedroom.”
“I didn’t know. That’s okay, though. The couch wasn’t so bad.” The tightening of the muscles around my neck speaks to the contrary, though. I stand and head toward the door. “Since you’re awake now and you can lock your door, there’s no need for me to stay any longer.”
“No. You can’t go out like this, looking like hell. Frat House will lose ratings if a photographer catches you in that shape, doing the walk of shame.” She motions with her chin toward my wrinkled suit. “Hell, HMG shares will take a massive hit if any living soul with a phone notices you.”
Her words inflict panic inside me. A stinky, drunk prick who can’t get enough of partying isn’t the impression I want to give to the world. “So, what now?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll call Daney and ask him to bring clean clothes for you. You’ll need a razor, too.” She runs and quickly grabs her phone off the kitchen island. I chuckle a bit when I listen to her quick, but precise orders to Daney about exactly which suit and shirt he should bring over. As she sets her phone back down on the kitchen island, she grins at me. “All set. Go ahead and have a shower, while I fix you a breakfast. You have two back-to-back dates today, then we’re heading to Scarlet’s birthday party.”
“Oh, that. I should pick out a gift for her.”
“Don’t worry. I got one for you when I was shopping for mine.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know.” Her gaze falls on the floor, her cheeks blushing a light shade of pink.
I grin and head to the bathroom.
“You can use the fresh towels on the shelves. I’ll lay your suit in the guestroom for you,” she yells after me.
I take my time in the shower mainly to give Daney time to pick up my clothes so I won’t walk around half-naked, wrapped up in a towel. I don’t think Julie would accept my indecency as happily as I took hers. That ass of hers! Damn it. Not exactly the visualization I need of her.