Saving You, Saving Me (8 page)

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.”

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 was 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.

3.
     
Must keep personal matters personal and not blab about it to the media.

4.
     
Must agree to traveling with Collins and to attending entertainment functions.

5.
     
Must be accessible to Collins by phone or person every night.

“I’m utterly baffled,” I said throwing my hands up in the air, “how this isn’t as earthshaking as I expected.” I smiled at Collins, relieved it was not something utterly weird or kinky.

“Those are just my preferences, and it’s an understanding I want you to have of my expectations. It’s to avoid any conflicts later.” Collins reached out for my hand. “Everything in life is a calculated risk…even relationships. In my stage and place, I can’t even leave relationships to chance. I’m sorry, but my lawyers insist on the NDA.” He ran his hand through his hair and said softly, “the pledge can be a written consent or an oral consent. I just need to hear it from you to know we’re on the same page in this relationship. I mean, I hate to make this very formal, but I’m putting it out there as in any honest communication between lovers that this is what I expect.”

            You never know with celebrities and cell-phone tracing show-up-at-your-church mega moguls, Serious Susan pointed out, arms crossed, tapping her school marm oxford high heels on the ground. “Seems as though being in the spotlight, you would have to have an agreement for anyone constantly seen with you,” I said. “I don’t know, Collins,” I went on, “seems pretty normal to me, except the long hair part, first point.”

            Collins smiled a secret smile. “That’s just so I can have something to touch and hold onto.  I like girls to have long hair. It’s a preference of mine. I find yours long and thick, very alluring.”

            “You’re lucky I love my hair long, too,” I said smirking.

            Collins smiled a small smile, but still looked apprehensive and anxious. “Yes, I’m a very lucky man,” his eyes twinkled with adoration, and he reached out his hand to touch mine. “I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend, at least one who would have shown you the world. You’re too beautiful to be available.”