Monday, July 27, 2015

California Girl Chronicles: Brea's Big Break -- Chapter 4

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I rose bright and early, grabbed some coffee from the pot and headed out the door with the goal of getting Kale alone before anyone came to the office. He worked out very early in his private gym at the office, so I planned to catch him then. I soon found myself walking straight down the hall to the gym connected to his office. I swung open the door and there was my insanely attractive man without a shirt on, working on the weights that build the upper back muscles. He was sweaty and glistened in the light. His eyes grew large when I walked in. The attraction was electric. I walked around the rowing machine straight toward him and stopped dead. No greetings were uttered, just silence. For a moment, we stared at each other. He released the weights, grabbed the white towel from around his neck and wiped his moist forehead and face.

“Brea?” He looked at me and waited.

“How are you?” I asked.

He stood there with a strangely intense look on his face. I stepped toward him, and he stepped back. Electricity pulsated between us. I moved forward again, and he moved back again. We then stood in a sort of Western stand off, each of us ready to draw our emotional weapons.

“Good,” he finally answered, his deep blue-green eyes fixed on mine.

In a rare bold mood, I turned and shut the door I had walked through to give us privacy. I turned back around to find Kale’s eyes fixed on my body. Again, silence fell between us. The desire was a fierce urge on both sides as the stares continued.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked in a way that almost dared me to make a move.

“I want to know if you miss me.”

Eyes fixed on mine, he flatly replied, “Every day.” He just stared at me with his intense, focused eyes.

I shifted in shock at the admission and asked, “You do?”

I moved toward him very slowly, waiting to see signs to stop. I soon found myself within inches of his body. He was aroused – and he wasn’t doing anything to rebuff my advances. I slowly but steadily rose up on my tiptoes to reach his tulip-shaped mouth. Our lips brushed at first ever so gently and then Kale grabbed me by the waist in one swift action and pulled me upward so we were pressed together. We kissed so passionately. I had never kissed anyone so deeply and for so long. We kept kissing, and then Kale nudged me away with the same quickness.

“What do you want?” He turned away and grabbed his shirt.

I touched my now empty lips completely perplexed. What did that mean? Was he ready to forgive me or not? “I — I don’t understand.”

“What?” he asked in a vacant way.

“The — the script notes,” I stumbled. “Why so many? Are you going to fire me?”

Kale, who now wore a white racer-back tank top, softened his expression. He looked at me with those magnificent eyes. “No, the financiers wanted changes,” he said quietly as he kept his gaze fixed on mine. “It’s normal, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

He had used his “sweetheart” endearment with me. I felt a surge of hope. I worked up my courage and walked back toward him. We kept our eyes on each other. He allowed me very close again. I reached up and stroked his rough cheek and then whispered in his ear, “Forgive me.”

Kale grabbed me by each wrist and gently, but firmly pulled me forward. He made sure we were inches away from each other. I could feel his warm breath, eclipsed in desire – the same desire I felt just moments ago. We continued to stare at each other, and then Kale gently pushed me away so we were no longer touching. He looked down. I wasn’t sure if he felt sad, mad or just beaten somehow. I felt an uncontrollable urge to cry, and the tears crept up and spilled over my lids onto my cheeks – this just set Kale off.

“Now you’re going to cry?” he asked in a firm, even voice. He looked away, grabbed a water bottle and took a swig.

I wiped away the tears. “No,” I replied.

Kale took another swig and said, “But you are.” He turned so I could not see his face. “Please don’t cry,” he softly pleaded.

I wiped away my tears and sighed. I decided to steel myself up and get a hold of my reeling emotions. I turned and opened the door. Just as it swung open I saw Monica about to walk in. Our eyes met. She looked startled by the look on my face.

“I’ll have the changes to you by noon,” I said and rushed away.

I could see her walk in the door to Kale and shut it behind her. I imagined her dropping the files she held and rushing into his arms. I had a terrible vision of them fucking right there on the weight seat. I quickly vanquished that terrible thought, but still the expression on her face was revealing. She was surprised and worried at the same time. It was at that moment that I suspected they had become lovers. Kale couldn’t forgive me.

I returned to my office and plunged into the rewrites, determined to drown my pain in my work. Later, I headed out for lunch. I raced right out into the main building, jumped on the elevator, and smacked into a dark-haired, chisel-cheeked guy who was just getting off of the elevator. He was about 6 feet 1 inch and very well-built with broad, muscular shoulders. We hit each other straight on, and I fell backward right into the wall. He immediately grabbed me to help.

“Oh — sorry, darling,” he said sweetly and politely. 

I stood up and smiled brightly at him. “It’s okay.”

His eyebrow arched a little, and he fixed his gaze right on me. “Damn, girl, you’re fine,” he said in such an earnest way. “You here for the auditions, too?”

“No, I don’t act,” I replied.

“Maybe you should,” he grinned. “My name’s Johnny.”

“Brea,” I replied, and I shook his outstretched hand and an electrical charge went straight between us. “What’s the audition?” I asked.

“For some movie, California Girl something,” he said.

“Oh, that’s my movie. I wrote it. What part?”

“Drew something or other,” he replied.

I found myself chuckling. He was a good fit. “You’d make a great Drew,” I replied. “Good luck.”

Johnny stared at me for a moment, nodded and went on his way. Man, this project was loaded with nothing but temptation. I pressed the elevator button and left.

Later that night, my old friend Lance invited me to drinks at the Roosevelt Hotel. I hadn’t seen Lance in weeks, and our relationship had mellowed to the occasional text message. I wondered if he had started seeing someone new, but realized it wasn’t my concern. I had no designs on him, and I wanted his attachment to me to fade. It seemed like it had, which is why I had agreed to drinks. When I arrived at the bar, I spotted him out on the terrace on one of the wicker loveseats with solid pewter-colored cushions. He waved at me and motioned to come out.

As I approached, I noticed he was mildly sweaty in a sexy kind of way and looked bright and happy to see me, but a little tired. He stood up and his green eyes sparkled as he leaned over in all of his tall glory and hugged me long and close. Since I was unattached, I didn’t care. I let him press against me, and he became aroused. All greetings aside, we sat quietly down very close to each other. He told me he had been promoted to managing supervisor at the electrical plant. He started talking about hydraulics until I’m sure my eyes glazed over in boredom. The waitress brought out a bottle of Merlot for us to share, and he obliged and poured me a glass. We then did the requisite cheers and both sat back.

“How’s the script coming?” he suddenly asked.

“Hard,” I replied. “Lots of rewrites. Maybe I’m not cut out for this,” I admitted.

“Giving up so soon?” he asked with a look of concern.

“No, just tired. Speaking of … you look a little tired too,” I said.

Lance contemplated the glass for a moment. “I got diagnosed with lymphoma,” he said quietly.

“What?” I yelped with concern.

“Yep, not the bad kind, but I don’t think there is a ‘good’ kind,” he said. “Man, I don’t know what’s worse: the fucking disease or the doctor’s appointments.”

It occurred to me that he wasn’t seeing someone else – he was preoccupied with doctor’s appointments. I sat back in shock and asked, “You okay?”

He said he was okay, but that the treatment was rough. They were doing a course of radiation for now, which had just started. I listened and all of a sudden I burst into tears. I’m not sure if it was the combination of Kale’s rejection and the bad news or if I just needed to cry. I felt terrible crying in front of my sick friend. Lance frowned at me and suddenly pulled me very close. We hugged for the longest time. I sat back, and he leaned over and deeply kissed me. I didn’t know how to feel about this. I allowed the kissing to continue, and then we both sat back and each took some sips of wine. I felt a strange sort of peacefulness.

“If I were to go tomorrow, I think I would be all right,” said Lance, breaking the silence. “I’ve done what I wanted. Isn’t that the most important thing? I mean, I’m not finished by any means, but you know, it’s cool.”

I was startled by this admission. I reflected briefly on my own short life. I didn’t think I could be that practical. I had not yet done what I wanted. I wasn’t even sure if I felt happy or not. I know in that moment with Lance, I felt glad to be there with him. I felt blessed to give him a brief moment of escape from his illness.

Then I leaned in very close to him and whispered, “Take me to your house.”

Lance grinned and nodded at me. He tossed money on the table, and we headed for his new car, a white Toyota Camry. We didn’t talk on the ride back. I held his hand in support and occasionally broke the grip and ran my fingertips up his arm. Before we even got out of the car, he was completely turned on. We walked arm-in-arm upstairs to his apartment where he used his key to open the door. He then gently swung me around and pushed me inward as he kissed me. As we breached the entrance, he kicked the door closed with the heel of his blue-and-black Sketcher and allowed his hands to move down my back and then forward to run across my breasts. I sucked in air totally caught off guard by his caress. It had been a while since I had been with anyone. I melted a bit and relaxed. I was letting off more than just sexual tension. The stress of the day was slowly rising off my shoulders, relieved by the alcohol that moved through my system.

Lance stood straight up and our eyes met. He took my blue blouse and swiftly and effectively unbuttoned it down the front. He then undid my bra and allowed it to drop to the floor. He reached for the ends of his own shirt, pulled it up and over his head and threw it to the floor. He then undid his pants and dropped them to reveal he had gone commando. His cock stood erect. I dropped to my knees and began to suck on him. My mouth moved forward and backward, and he moaned. He gently touched the top of my head.

“Yeah,” he cried in a very un-Lance-like manner.

I was surprised by my typically nonverbal lover and decided to please him to the end. I figured a sick guy gets to have his way. After all, what if he got sicker and couldn’t partake in sexual activities for a while? I thought I would make this one to remember so I sucked harder, determined for this to be his best blow job ever. He moaned as I ran my tongue up and down his shaft, and then plunged my mouth fully back over him. He was rock hard, and I was certain he might cum when he grabbed me and pulled me up.

He yanked me into his arms and carried me quickly to bed where he gently laid me back. My legs hung forward off of the bed, and he used his own leg to ease them apart so he could penetrate me. He slowly lowered his weight onto my body, and, as he entered, he let go of a deep moan that sounded more like relief. He leaned into me, kissed and sucked on my breast hard and fast. I was gripped in tension and lust. He began to fuck me with more vigor, then leaned forward and kissed me passionately on the lips. He was rhythmically fucking me with passionate intensity, and I reached around and grabbed his firm ass. My arousal went way up. He had a great, firm ass. I pushed him into me and began to rub on him. The tension built, and it felt so great. He moaned a little, and I knew he was about to cum, which turned me on even more. I gasped, and he moaned. We came together, and he grunted as I screamed. Then we both fell away from each other, breathing heavily.

I sat up on my elbows and brightly smiled at him. “If I were the last girl you fucked, would it be worth it?”

Lance let out a great laugh and replied, “Absolutely!”

He grabbed me and pulled me into a kiss. He then looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Thank you.”

I nodded and said, “You’re welcome … stud!” and reached around and slapped his ass. We both laughed at that joke.

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