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Eye of the Beholder Ch. 01

By: Kundalinguini



It was perfect, one of those late spring nights that make walking a joy: the rich scent of gardenia blossoms on the air, their fragrance magnified by the lingering moisture from the afternoon's shower. It was too good a night for walking on the street with its mercury-vapor artificiality. I used the alley instead. It was my favorite path to the campus, a lilac-lined, dirt alley barely wide enough for a car. It had been more suitable as an alley before the lilacs crowded out into it. Now, it was a gem of quiet, an insiders' secret, the lilac-muted traffic sounds the only reminder of the city all around.

Now I came to the reason for its neglect, a downed cottonwood, too much trouble to remove for an alley that had been little-used for years. It forced the path out onto the street, but I had discovered that I could vault one limb and scoot between a fence and a garage and I would come out into a cluster of small houses nestled among the lilacs. The driveway out to the street could have been a continuation of the alley, winding out to emerge in one of those small streets that can hide from even the locals for years.

Ducking out between fence and garage, making the turn onto the drive, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. The drapes of the apartment on my left were open, and the movement I'd seen turned out to be a beautiful brunette slipping a blouse off over her head. I drew a quick breath and stopped dead in my tracks, watching spellbound as she let her skirt drop to the floor, then reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Out sprang a pair of perfectly formed breasts, taut and high. She looked across the room, at a mirror I supposed, then cupped her breasts in her hands. Appraising them? Admiring them? Heaven forbid, even criticizing them? I couldn't tell from her expression, but she lingered at it, turning one way and the other before grabbing a towel from a chair and walking toward the back of the apartment.

I was suddenly very aware of myself, standing out in the middle of the courtyard, shamelessy ogling a total stranger. I was turning to walk on when the light came on in the bathroom. I could just see through the open door as she pulled off her panties, her delectable ass stretching smooth as she bent over to run the bath.

I looked around me, decided I'd better not just stand here in the courtyard. By now, I had a raging erection, and a sense of excitement I would never have expected. I quietly slipped in behind the bushes, finding a place where I could still see, but hopefully couldn't be seen. I watched breathlessly as she bathed, a slow, languid bath. Did it seem that she was lingering long in all the right places, having, perhaps, a bit too much fun in the bath? Again I couldn't tell, but now I only saw one hand; the other had disappeared between her legs, or so it seemed in my aroused state. Somehow my cock had crept out of my pants into my hand, and I stroked it as languidly as she seemed to be doing.

If only the bathroom weren't so far away from this window. I slowly made my way around to the back of the house, looking for the bathroom window. There it was, all right. I crept up and stood up on tiptoes to see in, but she wasn't there. I could hear the sound of the water draining out of the tub. A momentary pang of disappointment overcame me, but just then, the light came on in the room beside me. It faced the back fence, totally protected from the view of any of the neighboring apartments by several large lilac bushes. I crept over to peer through the window.

The blinds were raised six or seven inches, so I had a clear view of the whole room. I hoped she couldn't see me, but then, I was too aroused to worry about it. She dried her hair with the towel, a sheer pleasure to watch, back arched, breasts pointed and as she turned I could see her pussy: beautiful, pouting lips, light auburn ringlets curling at the top, but shaved around the lips. Maybe that's why she had seemed to be lingering there in the bath. I licked my lips, almost held my breath as I watched.

She tossed her towel over a chair, then, picking up a book and a jar of what looked like cold cream, turned and walked straight toward me. My heart jumped and I rocked back farther into the shadows before I realized she probably couldn't see me anyway. She crossed nearly to the window, then turned and sprawled out on a couch that I hadn't noticed, right up against the wall under the window. I couldn't believe my luck. From here, I could look down onto every inch of her glorious, naked body.

She unscrewed the top from the jar, setting it down on an end table at the head of the couch, then lay back to read. Meanwhile, my cock had crept back into my hand, my motions a bit faster, but I wanted to hold back from cumming; this was just too good. She turned the page, but my eyes were focused on that gorgeous pussy, its pouting lips just crying to be kissed, licked, sucked.

In my fascination, I hadn't noticed her free hand tenderly tweaking her nipple, but now that I looked, both nipples had jumped to attention, hard and pointed. Her hand had drifted up to the cream, and now two fingers smoothed a dollop of it onto her freshly-shaved pussy, rubbing it in slowly.

My first thought was "Oh, that's all it is...therapeutic," but damned if she didn't look like she was enjoying her therapy. She took another small dab of cream on her middle finger, running it gently up the lips, then down to her clit in slow, easy strokes.

I was nearly panting, trying not to be heard, thinking "She'll have me drooling in a minute!" She dipped her finger deep between her cunt-lips, then two, bringing them out glistening wet, rubbing her juices up onto her clit, standing out hard and firm as the lips opened to beckon entry. Faster now, both her and me, more frenzied. I couldn't remember ever wanting so badly to explode, and yet not wanting it, waiting to see her finish. Her finger flicked faster over her clit. There was a dull thump as the book dropped to the floor, freeing her other hand to slide down and help. She twisted slightly to the side, raising one knee to allow herself access, and in the process, pointing right toward me, dipping one finger, two fingers into her pussy, still flicking, panting now, and starting to buck a little. Arching toward me, she pulled her dripping fingers from her pussy, sliding one down to tease her asshole, moistening, another dip, just the tip into her ass, then slowly engulfing it as she arched and bucked. She was gasping now, and I was preparing to shoot my load clear across the driveway, barely moving I was so close.

One hand was a blur on her clit, and the other now had the thumb up her ass and three fingers in her pussy. As she began to thrash with her orgasm, a wisp of smell drifted up from the small crack at the bottom of the window, her sex, warm and musky amidst the gardenia and lilac. I swear my explosion must have rocked the world.

    To Be Continued...

Eye of the Beholder Ch. 01



Renee Thomas drove into the parking lot of the E-Z Sleep Motel. Even through the heavy rain that pummeled against her windshield, she could tell the place was a complete dump. But the dump had a bed and hopefully a sanitary bathroom. And if worst came to worst, it was shelter from the violent storm brewing outside.

She turned the ignition off and leaned back against the seat. She had no idea where she was going, nor did she care. She'd go as far as her full tank of gas and two hundred dollars would allow and then she'd think of something. Exhaustion was setting in after nearly two days of broken, sporadic sleep. She could barely think straight and after evading a near-accident on the highway, Renee knew it was time to call it quits for the day.

Renee lowered the vanity mirror to adjust the sunglasses covering her face. Her dark, tightly curled tendrils pulled messily into a ponytail and casual outfit consisting of a white tee shirt and tattered jogging pants didn't bother her much, but she couldn't leave the car without making sure her sunglasses were on just right.

Grabbing a small bag of belongings from the backseat, Renee exited the car and power walked through the rain until she entered the office.

A middle-aged Asian man stood behind the counter and gave her the once-over. His greeting was more like an annoyed acknowledgment of her presence.

"Rates are fifty-five dollars a night plus a three dollar key-card fee," he droned without saying hello. "Each room has a king-sized bed, color television and mini-fridge."

Renee silently nodded, sifted through her purse for the money and slid it under the glass. A few moments later, the man shoved a key-card and remote back to her.

"Thanks," Renee muttered and walked out. He didn't respond.

The rain hadn't let up but luckily her room was two doors down from the office. With a quick swipe of the key card, Renee walked into the room and instantly gagged at the offensive odor permeating the air and her senses. A heavy smoker had obviously rented the room before her. She yanked the dusty curtains back and opened the window, sighing contentedly at the sweet, cool breeze of relief.

Just as she expected, the room was a filthy mess. The bedspread and sheets were stained and bunched in a messy pile in the middle of the bed. The television had a film of dust over the screen and had to have been at least twenty years old -- maybe more. She opened the bathroom door and groaned. The paint was peeling, the sink was covered in unidentifiable hairs, the toilet was clogged and the shower had a layer of rust on the faucet.

Her shoulders slumped. So much for taking a shower.

Renee retrieved a pack of baby wipes and deodorant from her bag. As sad as it was, it would have to do.

She stood in front of the dirt-streaked bathroom mirror and removed her sunglasses. Her bruised right eye remained a discolored purple-blue but the swelling had gone down. It contrasted starkly against her golden brown skin. She had been wearing sunglasses day and night, not wanting to draw any attention to the injury.

She gently scrubbed her face clean and winced when her fingertips brushed against the inflamed flesh, releasing a quiet hiss of pain. She exhaled and frowned at the unattractive reflection the mirror presented. The black eye added to the menagerie of long, deep cuts across her forehead and mouth that had since healed but left scars that, without the help of a dermatologist, would likely adorn her face forever. She'd done her best to cover them with c0ncealer, foundation and powder but the raised scar tissue remained visible. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach when she realized for the hundredth time that the Renee she knew was gone, a shell of her former self, switched with this marked, scarred and broken replacement.

The bathroom light flickered and died, brought her out of her miserable outlook. She walked back into the room and undressed, folded her clothes and slipped them into her bag. She cleaned her sensitive areas as best she could with the wipes and threw them in the trash. She changed into an oversized tee shirt that went past her knees and sat on the very edge of the bed. Her eyes threatened to shut at any moment.

She was tired... so tired...

*

"Renee."

She could hear his voice. So soothing, so angelic. After being away for an entire year, Terrell was finally home. Now they could plan their dream wedding side by side instead of video chats or sending e-mails and even if they didn't, she was just happy to have the love of her life back.

She was standing in their eloquent bedroom with lavender walls and white furniture that popped against the background. Most men would hate such a feminine bedroom, but not Terrell. He loved it because she loved it. And she loved him for that.

Renee looked at the wall mirror and beamed. Her smooth, taut skin was bare and glowing. Her black tresses were shoulder length and sleek. Even with her self-conscious demeanor, she looked and more importantly, felt beautiful.

"I'm up here!" she called to her fiancé.

A framed picture caught her eye and she smiled. It was from the day Terrell left. She stood clinging to him, her golden complexion complementing his dark brown skin. He was smart, thoughtful and had a great sense of humor. She was lucky to have him.

She could hear him thudding up the steps and stood near the door in anticipation. Would he pick her up and spin her around like he always did, or would he flash a mischievous grin and carry her to the bed for a long anticipated session of lovemaking?

As he walked into view, Renee's smile faded quickly.

There was something wrong. Seriously wrong.

Terrell's normally radiant dark brown skin had turned an ashen gray. Dark circles hung underneath his brown eyes. His pupils were dilated and his gray tee shirt had blood splattered on the front.

Renee panicked. "Terrell, what's wrong?! Are you hurt?"

He lifted his arm and pointed to her chest.

Renee, confused and frightened, looked down at the yellow dress she was wearing. It, too, was covered in blood. Suddenly, she could taste it in her mouth and when she reached for her round cheek, she could feel it running hot down her face. She looked at him again, horrified.

He'd done this. He'd hurt her.

She was frozen in place as he lunged forward and took hold of her throat with one of his large palms and forced her on the bed, making it impossible for her to breathe. She wriggled and fought, scratched and clawed to flee his hold. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she lost consciousness.

"I'm sorry, Renee..."

*

Renee woke with a start, hyperventilating. She grasped at her neck and let out a sigh of relief at the touch of her bare skin. Another bad dream in a series of disturbing nightmares about him, each one more unsettling than the last.

When her breathing normalized, Renee's blurry vision cleared. The rays of sunlight that peaked through the yellowing blinds let her know it was morning and time to leave. She changed into a strapless blue dress and swapped her gym shoes with sandals, put on makeup, brushed her hair back and put on her sunglasses. She looped the bag over her shoulder and left the room, heading to the office.

The same man from the night before was still standing behind the counter, drinking a cup of coffee. The hunger pangs lolling around in her stomach got worse from the strong aroma of his drink. She hadn't eaten in almost a day and would have killed for a big plate of eggs, sausage and toast with a cup of coffee, extra cream and sugar.

"Good morning." She returned the items and offered a weak smile. "Are there any diners or restaurants nearby?"

The man nodded and handed her a piece of paper. It was a menu for a diner called Lana's located a half mile away from the E-Z Sleep.

The warm sunshine felt good when she stepped outside. There was little evidence of the storm from the previous night, aside from the fresh morning dew smell that Renee loved.

She took off for the open road again and found Lana's fifteen minutes later. It was a tried and true Mom and Pop diner with a full parking lot and hungry patrons satisfying their appetites inside. Not far from the diner was a sign that read Welcome to Quentin, Texas. It hadn't dawned on Renee how far from Michigan she'd gone until she saw the sign but now that she was here, she could either stay or go forward. There was no going back.

Right away, the heavenly smell of syrupy pancakes danced around her nose and made her mouth water. She had to have them.

A young girl with curly blonde hair walked up to her, wearing a waitress's uniform. She smiled pleasantly at Renee.

"Hello Ma'am," the girl bubbled. "First time at Lana's?"

"As a matter of fact it is," Renee nodded and returned the smile. "Any suggestions for a first timer?"

She handed Renee a menu and found a booth for her near the front of the entrance, prattling off different menu choices. Renee chose the pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon breakfast.

"It'll be coming up soon," the girl promised. "My name's Eden, by the way. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime."

"Coffee would be good."

Eden walked off to place her order. Renee sat in the booth, staring idly into space. She still hadn't processed the drastic change that occurred -- and was still occurring -- in her life. In some ways, she didn't want to think about it. Who in their right mind would be excited about starting all over again? Granted, she was only 26, but she'd left a respectable career and what little friends she did have behind. She could have felt bad about the materialistic things she'd given up: her condo, most of her furniture -- but all of those things and more could be purchased again. They weren't worth going back for and risking her safety. Not with him still sulking around the house. Starting over wasn't something she looked forward to, but it was necessary. She needed to know what independence felt like, what being alone felt like. Being able to walk around her house without walking on eggshells or being in fear.

Eden returned with her coffee and brought her to the present.

"Food's coming right up, Ma'am."

Renee took a sip of the rich beverage, relaxed as much as she could and gave her mind a vacation from the restless feelings that would not go away anytime soon.

The overhead bell rang and someone entered. Eden's shrill voice drew most of the patrons' attention.

"Get outta here with that helmet on!" she screeched. "You're embarrassin' me."

The man in question was wearing a leather jacket and worn blue jeans. His muffled laugh irritated Eden, who bristled and stamped her feet with impatience.

'"What a terrible way to greet your poor old uncle, Edie. I'm tellin' your mama next time I see her," he warned. Black hair peaked out from the black motorcycle helmet, past his shoulders.

"You live to humiliate me," she sighed, shaking her head. "There aren't any seats available so you're just gonna have to stand until I bring you your breakfast."

Renee turned to the window. Quentin seemed to be a small town with a diverse population of young and old, black, white and other. There was something about it that made her feel at peace. Maybe she'd stay; maybe she was just smitten with Lana's and her hunger was getting the best of her. It was too early to tell.

"This seat taken?"

Eden's uncle stood on the other side of the booth, the tinted helmet concealing his face.

Renee peered at him curiously and then shrugged. "Nope. Go ahead."

He slid into the booth and said nothing. Renee gave him the side eye and after a moment of awkward silence, she felt compelled to ask him something.

"You always go around wearing that on your head?"

"Sometimes." His deep voice was muffled by the helmet. "I think it makes me look cool."

Renee couldn't repress a grin. "You look like Darth Vader," she remarked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Well, I think Darth Vader was pretty damn cool," he nodded.

"Hey!" Eden speed-walked to the booth carrying two plates and a cup of coffee on a serving tray without missing a beat. Impressive. "I told you to take that off! And please don't bother the customers," she pleaded. "This is her first time here and I don't want you ruining her experience."

"Oh I'm fine," Renee clarified. "No bother at all."

"Anything else you'd like to say, Eden?" he chuckled.

The waitress hemmed and hawed and said as she walked off in a huff: "Still need to take off that stupid helmet."

"Now that, I will do," he compromised. "Can't eat through this thing."

Renee dove into her food. She didn't taste it so much as she shoveled it down. It was one of those days.

"Big appetite this morning, huh?" he noticed.

"Yeah, I've been..." Renee stopped mid-sentence when she looked up.

The man had taken his helmet off and he was stunning. His eyes were blue or green. Blue-green? They were captivating. His features achieved the impossible by being the perfect mix of soft and masculine. His smile was out of this world and his olive skin glowed. He wasn't her type but anyone with two functioning eyes could see that he was irrefutably attractive. It really shouldn't -- and didn't -- matter to Renee what the man looked like; but she was human and it is human nature to ooh-and-ah over the genetically gifted.

"Been...?" he asked, taking a bite of his omelet and tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear.

Once the shock wore off, she continued. "Nothing, just on the road," she said, looking down at her food.

"Stayin' in Quentin for a while?"

"A few nights."

"Comin' to visit or just ridin' through?"

She felt uncomfortable answering so many questions and changed the subject. "That reminds me, I actually need to get going. I have to find someplace to stay."

"There's a bed and breakfast not far from here," he said. "Quaint little place. Better than most motels."

"I'm sure I'll find something," she nodded. "Thanks for letting me know." With most of her food gone, Renee stood up and accidentally knocked over her coffee cup.

"Shit." She leaned forward to pick it up and to her horror, her sunglasses slipped off and clattered to the floor. For a moment, she felt as if the world stopped. Most of the patrons were paying no mind to her; maybe he didn't notice either. She fumbled to put the sunglasses back on and hastily picked up the cup, grabbed her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder. She left the money for her meal on the table and walked away.

Renee almost sprinted out of the diner and into her car. She didn't want it again. NOT again. The pity-filled looks, the speech that it wasn't her fault, the list of resources for women 'like her'. She'd done the right thing; she got away. Left a bad situation and didn't need anyone trying to help her. For once, she needed to be independent, even if it meant being lonely or having it rough for a while.

She found the Turquoise Bed and Breakfast located discreetly behind two large weeping willows. She'd catch up on sleep and plan her next move. After what happened, Quentin definitely wasn't the place to settle down.

*

Barrett brushed at the moisture on his lightly creased brow with his forearm. His entire body was covered in sweat, he was starving and the barn was only half complete. Damn cows. They were always doing something destructive or roaming too far off the property.

"Barrett!"

He faced the house and grinned, putting a hand over his forehead to shield the setting sun from blocking the divine view in front of him. Sarah, his girlfriend, was calling him in for dinner -- or in her case, takeout.

"Aw, c'mon!" he yelled, walked to her. "Just five more minutes to play outside and I'll be in to wash up, I promise!"

"Come in here you silly man," she laughed. "I bought Chinese food."

Barrett placed a quick kiss on Sarah's temple as he walked in past her, standing in the kitchen. "Food is the last thing on my mind, baby. I got to get outta these clothes and hit the shower."

"Oh, no you don't. We're out of drinks, so I need you to stop by the store and pick some up."

"After I take a shower," he reminded.

"We're out of soap, too."

"Fuck," he huffed, reaching for his jacket. "Guess if anyone asks why I smell so bad, I can tell 'em we ran outta soap."

He walked out without his helmet and didn't feel like going back inside to get it. A bad boy, he wasn't, but a quick drive on the Harley without a helmet wouldn't kill him.

He took off and reveled in the welcoming breeze of nightfall. He pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store and stood up when a small plastic card flew out of his pocket and onto the pavement, refreshing his memory. It was a library card that the woman, apparently named Renee, had dropped when she ran out of Lana's. He'd thought about giving it to Eden in case she came back but part of him knew she wouldn't. They never did.

He examined the card again. Detroit Public Library. She'd sure come a long way from Detroit, but women like her didn't have a destination. The bruised eye and skittish behavior was all he needed to tell that she was one of those women. His mother had been one of those women, too.

Barrett stood frozen in the parking lot, fighting against his better judgment. You have too much on your plate already. Don't go buttin' your nose in where it doesn't belong.

Before he knew it, he was back on the motorcycle, headed for the Turquoise. In all of his 30 years, when had he thought with his head in situations like these, or ever?

As usual, the lobby was completely quiet. Thelma, an elderly Native American woman and the owner, stood behind the counter and smiled when she saw Barrett.

"Hello Barrett. What brings you here? Finally come to learn more about the other half your heritage?"

Oh, hell. He ran a hand through his thick, dark mane and smiled, embarrassed. He wasn't exactly in touch with his Native ancestry and Thelma never let him forget it.

"Not this time," he said. "I'm lookin' for someone who may or may not be here, a woman."

Thelma eyed him suspiciously. "Does Sarah know you're looking for a woman?"

For God's sake. "Yes, Thelma," he sighed. "Her name's Renee."

"Mmm," Thelma nodded. "She checked in late this morning. She's in Room 4."

All Barrett wanted to do was leave the card. But his heart had again outsmarted his mind and before he knew it, he was knocking on the door to Room 4.

*

Renee leaned against the bed's wooden backboard. The room was absolutely gorgeous and antiquated. Everything that was wrong about the E-Z sleep, the Turquoise had gotten right.

With her hair wrapped in a white towel and her body covered with a robe, Renee reached for the cellphone she'd cut off three days prior. She didn't want any distractions or to let anyone talk her out of leaving.

The phone chimed and powered on. A messaged flashed across the screen:

(25) Unread Text Messages

(5) Pending Voicemail

She didn't need to go through. Most, if not all, were from Terrell. Out of curiosity, she read the first few text messages:

[Who are you with, Nee?]

[You trifling bitch. Are you out with some dude?]

[Baby, I'm sorry. I was just upset. Call me back.]

She couldn't stomach anymore and turned the phone off, placing it on the nightstand. Tears formed and she let them flow for the millionth time. It was all she could do, now that she'd actually gotten away -- cry, feel pain, and mourn.

Why? He'd gone to London on business for an entire year and before he left, he was the perfect mate. Sweet, kind, loving. When he arrived in England, they sent e-mails and video chatted whenever possible. Around the six-month mark, he barely contacted her anymore. The last four months, she never got as much as a phone call.




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 01



The first week home, he was distant and would barely look at her. She confronted him about it. His way of telling her he didn't want to talk about it left her wounded, inside and out. Anytime she suggested therapy or couple's counseling, it would get him even more riled up. She couldn't understand what had transpired that had turned her husband-to-be into a complete monster.

She heard a knock at the door and quickly wiped away her tears, grabbed her sunglasses from the night stand and took a deep breath. The receptionist came back to chat her ear off some more. She'd kindly tried to let her know she was tired but the woman acted like she didn't want to listen. She opened the door.

The man from Lana's.

He handed her one of several library cards she owned.

"You dropped it when you left."

She stared at him and cautiously took the card.

"Thanks," she whispered and attempted to close the door. He slipped his arm between the space and blocked her.

"Funny. Didn't peg you for a brawler," he said, hands resting in his leather coat.

Renee turned her back and closed her eyes tight, wanting to crawl up under the bed and never come out again. He had seen.

She deflated. "I'm fine. Thanks for bringing my card back. Goodnight."

"Look, it isn't my business, I know. I'm not going to agitate you and ask you how, why, and when. I just wanted to say... if you needed someone to show you around Quentin, tell you where to find things, let me know. I live up the road on a farm, you can't miss it."

She turned around to look at him with her arms folded, silent.

"Well," he said, clearly uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his head. "I'm headin' out. Have a good night." He walked off.

"Do you know who's hiring?" Renee blurted out. Seconds later he was back in front of the door.

"Um," he sighed, stared at the ceiling. "Not much. Quentin's pretty bad when it comes to jobs. A lot of folks around here are self-employed. It's a small town. Might want to try Houston, they're doing pretty well."

Renee had searched the distance between Quentin and Houston. There was no way she'd make it with what little money she had left. She nodded and shrugged her shoulders.

"Thanks, anyway."

"Well... I mean, I am looking for someone to help me out," he added. "Like I said, most of us are self-employed here in Quentin. I own a farm and a small construction business, havin' a hard time jugglin' both. What do you do?"

"Nothing that could help you," she shook her head. "Management."

He chuckled. "Darlin', I did say I was havin' trouble with both things. Seems to me someone with management experience would be perfect."

Renee smiled back at him. "I don't know anything about farms. I'm from Detroit."

"I noticed," he nodded. "It'll be fun to see a woman from the city get acquainted with rural livin'. Besides, you wouldn't be out there on the farm, unless you wanted to, of course. Just make sure we'd have everything we needed. A lot of buyin' things and keepin' inventory, you know? Same with the construction; it's slow right now 'cause we're new, but when you run out of things to do for the farm, you can be..." he snapped his fingers. "You can be our human resource manager, make sure no one gets outta hand. You'd only be managin' five guys, though," he chuckled. "So what do you say?"

"Is there some kind of... interview I need to -- "

"Nah," he waved his hand. "It's yours if you want it. I don't have a pen and paper on me, but if you drive ten minutes south of here, my farm is right on the corner. I'll be there in the morning; we'll talk about it then." He reached out to shake her hand. She offered him her palm and he shook it hard, made her crack a smile.

"That's a Texas handshake," he grinned. "And our contract."

"What's your name?"

"Barrett Tsosie."

"I'm --"

"Renee Thomas," he finished. "The card, remember?"

"Oh. Right."

"See you tomorrow, Renee."

Renee closed the door behind him, a little confused but very grateful. She didn't know what to think about it, so she wouldn't. She'd show up tomorrow and if things went well, she'd have a temporary job and make enough money to get to Houston. If it didn't... she'd think of something.

It was barely nine o'clock but she felt the same exhaustion from the night before creeping up on her. She crawled into bed, turned off the nightstand lamp and prayed that she'd forego another nightmare and enjoy a night of sound sleep.

*

What the HELL had he just done?

That was all Barrett could think as he drove back to the farm in pitch-black night, his mind reeling from the proposition he'd made to Renee. True enough, he needed extra help -- and as much as he loved Sarah, Lord knows she wasn't good at helping him with anything -- but he didn't have the money to pay anyone else. His small crew of men and the materials he spent for his business AND items for the farm burned a hole in his pocket every month. He hadn't even discussed money with her and didn't know what she was expecting.

He pulled into the back of the house and parked his motorcycle. Shit. He couldn't go back on his word, nor did he want to. Not after seeing her that second time.

He hadn't seen the scars on her face at Lana's. She must have had them covered up. And even though she'd clearly bathed, wearing a robe and a towel on her head, she wore those sunglasses to hide her eye. Wouldn't be surprised if she slept in the damn things. It was too reminiscent to his mother's trials and tribulations. He went out of his way to help people, especially women. It was just in his nature. God help him, even if it wasn't his place to try, he was going to help Renee in any way he could.

He entered the kitchen and saw Sarah sitting at the table, frowning.

"I'm sorry, baby. Hope the food's not too cold. Got your drinks," he said, putting them on the table.

The petite strawberry blonde reached for a soda. "Got caught up chatting with Pete again?"

"Uh... not exactly," he shook his head. "I'll tell you about it when I get out of the shower. Or," he said, pulling her to her feet, "Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

"Ooh," she cooed, putting her arms around his waist. "I'd like that."

He carried her up the stairs and left his troubled thoughts behind. They, and Renee, would be waiting for him in the morning.



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 02



Sex can be a hunger, a point subtly made by my sub-conscious as I licked my lips watching Sharon stroke herself. I had learned her name from the mailbox at the end of the drive. For weeks now, I had spent part of every evening nestled in the lilac bushes outside the window watching this exquisite beauty make love to herself. What began as a chance occurance had become almost an obsession. It was as if I was involved in a torrid and consuming affair, but not like any I would have imagined.

Just now, she was standing nude in front of the mirror, massaging her breasts seductively. I had discovered this to be a nightly part of her ritual: she'd turn side to side, cooly appraising herself in the mirror, cupping her tits in her hands, sometimes tweaking them to make the nipples stand up, then rubbing down across her belly to her hips, like she was smoothing some invisible dress.

I didn't understand her. She was so incredibly beautiful, but she never seemed to go out. Weekdays, weekends, it made no difference. In the past two weeks, there was only one night she hadn't been here, last night, but that missing night had piqued my appetite immensely. I found myself thinking "Come on, get to it", when only nights ago I would have been happy to consider this the main course.

Finally, she picked up her towel and headed back to the bathroom. I walked quickly around to the back of the house, that sheltered spot that had come to feel like a second home. About the third night I had found a fairly large, round slice from a tree trunk sitting on the tiny porch outside of the kitchen door. It looked like it might have been used as an impromptu footstool. If I moved it over by the bathroom window, I could stand on it so that the light shining out of the bathroom window didn't illuminate me, but I could look directly down into the bathtub. I was happy that the weather had warmed, since it meant that she bathed with the frosted glass window slid open, but it also meant that I had to be even quieter. I moved the trunk while the running bath water covered up the noise.

Sharon slipped into the water, dipping down so nothing but her head was above the surface, her hair draped over the back of the tub out of the way. Slowly, she pushed herself back up until her breasts had just broken the water line.

There's something seductive about wet skin. Maybe it's a tactile memory, the sensous feeling as hand glides effortlessly over body, slipping over curves, sliding into nooks. As the water ran in trickles down her breasts to her nipples, I imagined myself a drop of that water, caressing with my whole body as her contours pulled me along.

Her hands were now caressing her own contours, washing herself, but without the semi-conscious perfunctoriness of "just a bath". I had begun to wonder if she ever touched herself without caressing. Her hands washed their way down to the auburn curls then over the shaved lips of her pussy. Apparently they didn't meet with her approval. She reached over to a small table, squirted a small splash of blue gel onto her hand, and began to massage it to a lather on her pussy, sensually, as ever. I couldn't help wondering who she was shaving for, an absent boyfriend? I had decided it was just as likely to be for herself.

This was wonderful. In order to lather and shave, she had placed a leg over the side of the tub, rocking her pelvis up out of the water and right toward my vantage point. I had never seen her do this before, and my excitement was building. There was that picturebook pussy, peeping hide and seek from under the lather. It was like a miniature striptease, each stroke of the razor revealing a little more of the treasure beneath.

She was excruciatingly slow about it, pausing after each stroke to run a finger judicially over the area she had just shaved, lingering with the motion, occasionally taking a side trip over her clitoris. By the time she had finished, her eyes had taken on a slight glaze, her mouth barely open, the tempo of her breathing beginning to rise.

She reached out with her foot and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature with her toes, then flipped a valve on the faucet. A swirl of water beneath the surface told me there was a shower attachment down there somewhere, and she fished for it as she rubbed her hand one more time over her cunt-lips and clit. Pulling the shower head out of the water, she directed the stream between her legs, first just washing off the remaining soap, then laying her head back, obviously enjoying the feeling of the spray playing over her clit. Her breathing seemed to have taken on that tell-tale catch of arousal, a slight shudder on the inhale.

She used two fingers to spread back the lips of her pussy, laying herself open to the spray, moving it slowly up and down, turning it, directing it to just the spot, arching now to meet it. Her breathing was quick, shallow, her face flushed with excitement. I had been masturbating as I watched, but I had to stop to prevent myself from cumming.

I loved to watch her enjoying herself, teasing then pleasing, her intensity ebbing and flowing. She was doing the same thing I was, bringing herself right to the edge, then pulling back. The thought came to me that many people making love to each other were not as much in sync as we were on opposite sides of this window.

Just as I thought she couldn't hold off her orgasm much longer, and I was sure I couldn't, she reached out a toe to shut off the spray, then sat up, turned off the water and pulled the plug. She stepped out of the tub, casting a quick glance in the mirror as she did. Looking into the mirror, it seemed that our eyes met briefly, and a fleeting, almost-smile kissed her lips. I froze, but she simply picked up her towel and walked from the bathroom.

The bedroom light clicked on as I quietly moved the wood block back to the porch, then turned to take up my post at the bedroom window. Suddenly, the blinds flew up, shocking me to the core, stopping me in my tracks while my mind jumped, trying to decide whether I needed to do something, but she just opened the window, then lowered the blinds to about a foot from the bottom sill.

I melted into the lilacs as she crossed and picked up the cream, and something else; her book I thought, but as she crossed to the couch under the window, I saw the book still laying open on the table. I had wondered what it was, but the back cover was always toward me when she was reading it. Tonight, it apparently didn't matter.

She lowered herself onto the couch, but this time she rolled onto her stomach, keeping her knees under her so her ass and that gloriously perfect pussy stuck up into the air, reaching just over the top of the couch back, not more than a foot from the window screen. A finger full of cream drifted up to begin teasing her cunt, slipping and dipping with an easy rhythm.

I was delirious. This was too good to be true. As she softly stroked her clitoris, her face down on the couch where she couldn't possibly see me, I leaned forward as far as I dared, watching that finger I wished was mine sliding deep into her cunt, then pulling out to tease its way over her clit, then back into her depths. The smell of her drifted to me through the screen, intoxicating and maddening, so close, and yet a world away. I inhaled deeply, slowly, taking in as much of her as I could, my eyes focused all the while on the intricate dance of her fingers.

She was rocking with passion now, her rhythm steady. Without missing a beat, her free hand produced its secret, the thing she had chosen over the book: a vibrator, sleek and silver. She dipped it slowly into her pussy, and I heard her soft sigh, realizing that she would be able to hear me as easily. It added a tension that heightened the intensity.

Finally, she turned on the vibrator, its gentle hum changing as she stroked it in and out of her enveloping folds. HMMMMMMMmmmmm...down her slit, slowly parting the lips...hmmmmmmmmm...deep inside, searching, probing, holding... hmmmMMMMMMMM...up and out, moving to circle slowly around her clit, up one side and down the other...HMMMMMmmmmm...inside again with a soft, wet sound.

She repeated this several times, each trip around the clit a little slower, a bit less regular. She was gasping now, her other hand taking over on her clit as the vibrator dipped once more into her cunt, emerged dripping, then began a long, slow entry up her ass. She had to arch her back to reach, bringing her pussy even closer to me, fingers flying, while all the while, the vibrator disappeared inch by inch into her. The aroma of her hit me again and I almost swooned, my ejaculation crashing over me in waves, doubling me over just as the cries of her orgasm reached my ears. She bucked and arched erratically, her pussy almost brushing the screen, inches from my face. I had a nearly irresistable urge to reach out and lick it through the screen, had it been possible, but the thought of messing this up was inconceivable.

As the throes and throbs of my orgasm subsided, so did hers, her body sinking slowly to the couch, her breathing returning to regular with a long, soft sigh. The smell of her pervaded my senses, mingling with the lilacs. To this day, I can't smell lilacs without smelling her as well.

To Be Continued...



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 02



Barrett leaned against the kitchen counter, took a swig of his morning coffee and tapped his large boot against the linoleum floor.

Most of his night was spent staring at the ceiling while Sarah lay on his chest, snoring contently. Between the near-two hours of rough, unbridled sex -- there was no such thing as 'making love' when it came to Sarah -- he managed to tell her about hiring a new employee. Aside from a sleepy nod and a yawn, she didn't have much to say.

With all he carried on his shoulders: maintaining the farm, playing father to his niece Eden, sorting out the construction business; he didn't need to add anyone else's burdens to his steadily growing pile. Yet he didn't regret helping her. Wherever Renee had come from, whatever she went through, it was clear that she was still hurting but ready to move on. For that reason alone he would help her, regardless of the extra costs.

His Ma was like that when she decided enough was enough. The last cuts and bruises had barely healed when she left Arizona with her two children and moved to Texas. Everything from the elusive behavior to the sunglasses, Renee reminded Barrett so much of her. A rough road of uncertainty and hard living was a precursor to their arrival in Quentin. If it wasn't for people like Thelma, who gave them a place to stay until they landed on their feet, she would have never been able to buy the farm and settle down. He wanted to do for Renee what so many had done for his Ma.

He gripped the handle of his coffee mug and sneered. Thoughts of his mother meant deep-seeded, angry memories of his father followed soon after, playing in the recesses of his mind like a grainy silent movie. He and Brandi cowered in a corner, covering their ears. Ma would plead, beg him to stop. It only egged him on for more. Sometimes his fists were enough. Sometimes he used his belt.

An underlying sense of guilt plagued Barrett most of his life. He was only a kid but he could have done something. At least tell a teacher or a neighbor. The fear of retaliation from his father finding out paralyzed him. Brandi and he anticipated the day when their father's violent rage would spill over and make them targets but for whatever reason, it never happened.

Even on her death bed three years prior, Ma absolved him of feeling guilt or responsibility for what happened all those years ago. He could still see the glimmer of pride in her emerald eyes as she held his hand with a weak grip, hear her strained voice urging him to be thankful for all they'd received.

Life without her was hard, but he'd managed as best as he could. He'd always make sure Eden and Brandi were taken care of -- that was priority. The farm and business meant his hands were full most of the time but things were manageable. And though he'd been unlucky in love before, he'd found Sarah last year.

As for his father? He was still alive. Somewhere. After he'd inflicted as much damage as he could and forced them to leave, last Barrett knew he had married again and started another family.

Aside from the Tsosie name, the dark hair and natural tan, Barrett had no connection to his father. He had inherited most of his beautiful mother's traits, like her striking eyes and most of her European features. Brandi was older and had embraced their Navajo heritage but Barrett had little interesting in learning anything more about his father.

He turned around and glanced out of the kitchen window. The cows were roaming awfully close to the wooden cattle fence that needed repairing.

"God damn it." He put his drink down and went outside to corral the adventurous heifers. He'd have to fix that fence soon or they'd bust right through the thing and end up trotting down the road again.

He walked back in and cat-called when Sarah descended down the large staircase, wearing little more than a pair of skintight blue jean shorts and a shirt that barely covered her taut midriff. A classic case of a girl who flaunted her athletic body and beauty every chance she got.

"Well, good mornin'," he said with a grin.

"Morning, handsome."

His relationship with Sarah consisted of roughly eighty percent sex and twenty percent... other stuff. Not the most solid of foundations to build something long-lasting but what did that mean? He was thirty and had decided the concept of 'love' meant finding a good-looking woman who wasn't a complete airhead. Not only did Sarah possess those qualities, she was also a decent woman with a pretty kind heart. She had her faults like everyone else but their year together had been solid thus far.

She stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his broad neck, brushed her pale lips against his cheek.

"Want to play a little before work?"

"Hmm." He kneaded the pale flesh of her backside and kissed the back of her butterfly-tattooed neck. "Temptin'. I can't today."

"Not even five minutes?" She nipped at his earlobe and giggled.

He glanced at the wall clock and considered it. Five minutes with Sarah meant thirty at the least.

"Not this time, baby. Want some coffee?"

"No thanks," she yawned, stretched her arms over her head. "I'm headed to Town & County Foods to help Pete with inventory."

Barrett raised a brow in surprise. "That's the fourth time this week."

"Well, I need something to keep me busy since Eden took my waitressing job, remember?"

"I remember you quittin'," he clarified. "That's when I said you could work with me."

"Barrett, I might live in Quentin but I'm not a farm girl at heart. Dealing with animals, cleaning cages... ugh!" She stuck her tongue out and frowned like a three year old who'd been told to eat broccoli. "Hard labor is so not my thing."

"How exactly is carryin' and unloadin' heavy crates full of supplies not hard labor?" he inquired, head tilted to the side in confusion.

One of Sarah's faults, bless her, was not making a lick of sense most of the time. He chalked it up to the six year age gap between them. He was probably just as clueless when he was twenty-four.

"Uh..." she faltered. "It's just different, okay? I don't have to worry about any animals or getting sweaty. Besides, we wouldn't have any alone time for ourselves if I worked with you."

Well, that made sense. Having Sarah around was nice; granted, some days he just wanted to come in and watch TV or catch up on paperwork with no interruption. And Sarah being around all day long meant half the time he'd either be rolling around in the sheets with her or listening to her ramble on about some trivial worry she had.

"Alright, I get the point. Break my heart, why don'tcha."

"Mmhm." She beamed, pecked him on the mouth. "We both come in after a long day of work. Missed each other all day long."

When she pressed her palm against his jean-covered member, he exhaled. Damn, it was hard to say no. He reached for her hand and gently brushed it away.

"If you mess around with me this mornin', you won't have the energy for a long day of work." He raised his arm and glanced down at his wrist watch. "I'd be leavin' myself, but I'm waitin' for Renee."

"Who?" Sarah shot from the adjacent bathroom and back into the kitchen. Her hazel eyes bore holes through him.

Jealously was a fault possessed by most of the women he'd been with. Even Barrett, as level-headed as he considered himself to be, fell victim to the rare twinge of jealousy whenever some guy ogled her but Sarah took it to the extreme. It was kind of cute in the beginning but lately, it was like being accosted by a spoiled, crazed chihuahua. The mere mention of another woman's name sent her into a paranoid frenzy.

"The woman I hired, Sarah. I told you yesterday night."

"Okay, yesterday night I could barely remember my own name, Barrett."

He grinned.

"Don't take that as an opportunity to gloat," she snapped. "I'm positive you didn't mention that you hired a woman."

"Well," he raised his hands, shrugged. "I hired a woman. You happy?"

"No. Who is this woman? I'm like the social butterfly of Quentin and I've never heard of her before."

"She's new in town, just got here yesterday." He eyed his wristwatch. "Aren't you supposed to be leavin' soon?"

Sarah frowned. "I could wait a few minutes."

"You think Pete would appreciate that?"

For a second, Sarah smiled and stared off into the distance. Barrett gave her the once over. Just another one of her deer-in-headlights moments, he figured.

"Fine, fine. Let me know if this Renee girl comes before I leave. I just want to say hello."

"We'll see," he sighed, rubbed his hands together. "I'm goin' out to fix the fence. Let me know when you leave so I can lock up."

"Sure." The pair kissed one last time before they parted and went their separate ways.

Barrett returned to the farm and kneeled in front of the splintered wood. He retrieved his tools and went to work on the fence. Not a good ten minutes in and his cellphone rang.

"Hello."

"Hey, Barrett. We got a bit of a problem here, man."

Fuck, what was it now? When he hired Wesley, he had faith in his young friend to be able to handle any and everything. But not a day went by that Wesley didn't phone him about a botched job or a client who'd been misquoted for a project.  

"What's up?"

"Well, you know the Harlan's and all, right?" he drawled. Wesley was a Texan by way of deep-south Kentucky. Even Barrett had a hard time understanding the red-headed bastard. "Well, they're sayin' we gave 'em the wrong price and they're pretty hot, man."

"Jesus." Barrett pinched the brow of his nose and grunted. "Alright, I'll be there soon."

"Uh... you might wanna go on back to the office and just try callin'. They told us not to come back 'til we 'straighten our shit out.' That's their words, not mine," he clarified.

"That works," he blew a sigh of relief. "I'm waitin' for the new hire --"

"Aw, don't tell me I gotta 'nother idiot to look after," Wesley complained. "It's hard enough makin' the Three Stooges follow directions."

"It's a woman, Wesley. She --"

"A woman?" He could hear Wesley leering on the other end. When he wasn't screwing up, the twenty-five year old spent his free time chasing skirts. "Is she cute?"

"For God's sakes, she's there to work, Wesley, not to sate your sexual appetite."

"What my sexual appetite?"

He should have been reading books in his spare time.

"She's not there to look pretty for you."

"Oh. Well, let me know when she comes. The guys and I are headed out to breakfast. Well, actually, I think they're gonna leave me behind 'cause they heard me call 'em 'The Three Stooges' and they're kinda sore 'bout it but --"

"I gotta go, Wesley."

*

The small town of Quentin may have lacked in population but there was no shortage of breathtaking scenery and well-landscaped homes. Even the Turquoise had a quaint garden filled with colorful flowers like azaleas, morning glories and orchids.

Renee passed the beauties on her way to Barrett's farm and fell in love. She was a sucker for all things floral and vibrant, which Quentin seemed to have an abundance of. It was also fairly slow on the road; she had only passed one other car that was traveling fifteen miles per hour at the highest. Houston might have been her overall destination but something told her she'd enjoy her stay in Quentin.

Well-rested and a little more conscientious of her appearance than the last few days, she wondered what was in store for her with this new job. It hadn't escaped her that she'd accepted and been given a position by a man she'd never met before but for some reason she trusted Barrett. Even before he saw the painful reminder of the hell she escaped he was so warm, inviting and had a subtle sense of humor that she could appreciate. And when he saw her eye he made it clear that he wasn't going to judge. Not everyone understood that she didn't want to relive and discuss what she had walked away from. She just wanted to start over.

She'd thought about Barrett longer than she wanted to admit last night. His youthful, handsome appearance was that of a young, virile man but she could tell he'd had the proverbial marks and scars from living that a more mature person possessed. The mention of a family farm made her imagine Barrett having a gaggle of young children whom pranced around rambunctiously while his wife, a Suzy Q. Homemaker just as gorgeous as he was, baked incessantly and took care of her family without breaking a sweat.

While marriage had been in her future -- she was skeptical about it now and rightly so -- the notion of children had never really crossed her thoughts. An only child whose parents had passed at an early age, Renee never had younger siblings, nieces or nephews to take care of. She liked children well enough but with how out of sorts her life was now, they were the last thing on her mind.

Her car descended down a slight dip in the road and a bold Victorian-style farmhouse appeared in the horizon. The massive abode looked to have at least three stories and was an architectural gem. The actual farm area, what little there was of it, was partitioned off with a wooden barrier. Cows and horses seemed to be the only animals inhabiting the space.

She spotted Barrett crouched in front of the splintered wood, sawing away at it with vigor. He looked determined and focused. He was clearly a man who enjoyed working with his hands and used it to escape the world around him.

The driveway spanned from the front of the house and stopped just shy of the farm's gate. The loud noise of her tires crushing against the gravel road drew Barrett's attention. Renee rolled her window down and smiled as he approached.

"Mornin', Renee," he grinned. His row of pearly whites were perfect. Compared to the rest of him, she'd expect nothing less.

His light eyes swept over her and all of a sudden, she felt conscious about her appearance. Her curls were tamed in a large french braid with a few loose strands on either side of her face. The white capris she wore were a size too small and created an unflattering muffin top that she tried unsuccessfully to hide by wearing an oversized dark blouse. Like yesterday, her sunglasses were settled against the brow of her nose and light makeup covered the many imperfections on her face.

"Good Morning." The urge to bury her head under the sand and not come out until he went away came back.

"I'd invite you in but I'm gettin' ready to head out. Thought we'd drive over to the office and get you started. Did you wanna follow me or ride together?"

Renee looked down at her near-empty gas tank. "How far is it?"

"Ten minutes, give or take."

She climbed out of her car and followed him to an old pick-up truck. He opened the passenger's side door and waited for her to get in.

Renee buckled her seatbelt and he turned on the ignition, which rattled and clanked like a rusted contraption turned on for the first time in years. They puttered down the road, mostly in silence. He asked her how she slept, if she was used to the oppressive Texas weather. Her responses were brief but friendly. The perfect balance of being social without being too intrusive.

He parked in front of a small storefront with no visible sign out front. Instead, a printed sheet with the words 'Tsosie Construction' was taped to the inside of the front window. He wasn't kidding when he mentioned he'd just started this new venture.

"I'm gonna kill Wesley for doin' that," Barrett sighed. "Better to not have anything up at all than puttin' that tacky thing on the window. Shall we?"

"Sure," Renee said.

The inside of the office looked much better than its exterior. The lobby, which she assumed would be her work area, led to the outer area of two adjacent offices. One turned out to be the "lounge"; in its current state, it was little more than an empty room with a mini-fridge, empty cans and food wrappers scattered on the counter. The other room vaguely resembled an office; there was a desk and chair, filing cabinet, desktop computer and a telephone line. The cream-colored walls were bare and nothing else filled the spacious area. The lone restroom made Renee cringe. It was sanitary and all, but the thought of sharing a lavatory with five men took her back to her college dorm days. Not something she was looking to relive.

Barrett explained every nuance of her position; what she would be doing on a daily basis, who to call in case of what scenario and so on.

"That's everything," he said with a shrug. "Any questions?"

"More like a statement. You didn't mention how much I'd be paid?"

"Oh, right. How much were you thinkin'?"

"Just enough to get to Houston without worrying about running out of gas or not having enough to pay for a motel room for a while."

Barrett looked relieved. What was that all about?

"Gotcha. Wesley and the guys should be wrappin' up a project right now," he explained. "I'm gonna head over to the Public Services buildin' and grab some permits . If you need anything while I'm out..." he ran into the office and scribbled a phone number down, handed it to Renee. "Call my cell."

"Sure," she nodded. "See you later."

The first day of Renee's new job wasn't much of a job at all. For eight hours, she spent her time milling around the office, organizing and reorganizing paperwork and reading eBooks on the computer. She'd left the office only once to buy lunch from the deli next door. Barrett returned to drop off the building permits but hadn't been back since, and none of the other guys had shown up.

Who was she kidding? Most of the time was spent not only thinking but actually worrying about Terrell and the past year.

Nothing could justify the violence and disrespect she endured at the hands of her... ex? It was foreign to her, referring to someone she'd been with since her junior year of college as that. Love, in its purest form, was something that could turn the coldest heart warm. In Terrell's case, hate had somehow festered in his otherwise warm heart and turned him into a reclusive, angry monster.

The disintegration of their relationship did not happen overnight. It was a slow, tedious breakdown that Renee could not understand and, like a fool, waited much too long to realize that it was all but unsalvageable. Theories of what had changed him from the time he left for London to the time he came back rattled around in her head like dice, hoping to find the right reason and help him through it.

First came the reclusiveness. He'd sit in the bedroom or the living room, staring at the television like a brain-dead zombie. Every blue moon, he'd come out of his funk and it would be like old times. They'd laugh and joke together. But the second Renee would ask about London, he'd shut down like a turtle retreating into its shell. They made love every so often, but the passion was nonexistent.

Then came the physical altercations. First a gentle push, then a hard shove. For a while, it was an open-palmed strike. Everything went downhill from there and culminated in the scars she had to cover every day just to look normal. Like most, he'd switch between unbridled anger and temporary bouts of sympathy and compassion, only to repeat the cycle.

He was controlling and questioned her every move. He'd come see her at work during her lunch break, waiting for her to come out. Accused her of flirting with co-workers or cheating on him with other men for no reason. It all became too much for her. There were no blood relatives for her to run to. She considered going to one of the few friends that Terrell still allowed her to talk to, but he knew where they lived and didn't want to put them in danger.

She hated herself for ever loving someone who had been so destructive and inflicted long-term damage to her self-esteem. She could barely look in the mirror anymore and rarely appreciated what was looking back at her. He'd taken away her confidence but totally ruined her trust when it came to relationships. It would take an amazing man to make Renee open her heart to love again.




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 02



Renee noticed Barrett standing in the doorway. "Hey. I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry for comin' back so late. I lost track of time. How was it?"

"Quiet. I've never had the pleasure of working in an office by myself."

"Oh, that'll change. Just wait until Wesley and the others come in," he grinned. "Ready to go?" Barrett locked up the office and they started the drive back to his farm.

"So," Barrett asked, gripped the steering wheel. "Tell me about yourself."

Renee gave him the side eye. "Isn't that what an interview is for?"

"Nah. That's for me to figure out if you know what you're doing. I can tell you're capable," he said. "I meant like what you like to do in your spare time."

Renee paused. "Read. I was originally an English major before I switched to management. Also painting but I haven't done it in a few years and I'm far from the next Picasso. The canvas looks like a colorful mess when I'm done but it's a good way to release creativity. I'm better at painting walls and furniture, interior design I guess you could say."

"How does a woman with so much creativity go into a strict field like management?" Barrett asked.

No one had ever asked her that before. "I don't know," she admitted. "I may have a flair for the whimsical but I like to keep things tidy."

He nodded. "Now that you've spent a day here, what do you think?"

"It's quaint. Quiet. I like it."

"The locals would be proud to hear that," he grinned. "Well, just know whenever you head off to Houston you always have an open invitation to come back. I'm a pretty simple guy who doesn't get much spare time. I catch up on sleep when I can. What's your family like?"

Renee shook her head. "I don't have any. My parents died a long time ago and I was an only child." She hated bringing it up since most people would apologize or fall silent. Barrett chose the latter.

"Yours?"

"Well you met my pride and joy at Lana's yesterday," he chuckled. "My fifteen year old niece Eden. She's somethin' like the little sister I never had and the daughter I haven't had yet. Then there's my sister and her mother, Brandi. My Ma..." Barrett sighed. "She passed on about three years ago but lived a pretty long life."

She raised a brow. So he didn't have any children.

"Other than close friends to the family and my girlfriend Sarah, that's about it."

And he wasn't married. Interesting. Guess she was wrong after all.

Questions, answers and laughter were exchanged between the two until Barrett stopped in the farm's driveway.

"I don't know if it means much, Renee -- I know you're leavin' for Houston after a while but I think you'll fit in great with the guys and help us out while you're here."

"I look forward to it," she said with a smile. "Good night, Barrett."

*

"2."

"Nope."

"45?"

"Uh-uh."

"145?"

"Not even close, Wesley." Renee laughed as she filled out another stack of paperwork.

One month and a half later, the business had undergone dramatic changes thanks to her, Barrett and to a lesser degree, Wesley. Word spread throughout Quentin about Tsosie Construction fast, which kept Renee busy and the guys steadily working. It also meant she'd made roughly half of what she needed to get to Houston, but the camaraderie and silly shenanigans that went on in and out of the office made her feel comfortable. It was like being the only girl in a family of five brothers, something that Renee had never experienced but loved every moment of it.

The other three men didn't stick around the office much but not a day went by that Barrett or Wesley -- especially Wesley -- didn't talk to her at length about one subject or another. Barrett's conversations were a little more sophisticated. Wesley's...

"Damn. 145 is my lucky number," Wesley puzzled. "Could have sworn that was it."

Renee put down her pen and grinned at him. "Remind me again what exactly you get if you guess the number I'm thinking."

He stood up and scratched the back of his head, gave a lop-sided grin. He'd picked up so many of Barrett's mannerisms; one could have easily mistaken them for twins, were it not for all the contrasting physical attributes. They might have acted similar but on the outside the men were apples and oranges. Barrett was maturely handsome; a bit rough around the edges but confident with his dark features and light tan skin.

Wesley, on the other hand, was a pale, freckled-face red-head with the lightest green eyes Renee had ever seen. His wavy hair was cut short and, unlike Barrett's smooth face, had light peach fuzz on his chin and beard. It was probably all he could grow.

Looks aside, he was fun. Kind of slow on the upkeep but that added to his goofy charm. His interaction with Renee teetered between playful gestures and light flirting, both of which tickled her pink. Wesley was the type to flirt with everyone, she could tell, even if she hadn't seen him in the act yet. It was a nice distraction from work most of the time so she had no complaints.

"I was thinkin' I'd get to take you to Barrett's birthday party tonight. If you wanna."

"I have a better idea," Renee said, leaned across her desk. "How about you just ask me? Not to be rude but you kind of suck at the number guessing game."

"Ouch," he laughed. "Alright. Renee, d'you wanna --"

"Sure, Wesley. But I thought it was just a barbeque, nothing special."

"Oh, it is. I'd just like the chance to show up with you on my arm and all." It was so painfully cheesy that it was cute. How could she say no?

Barrett walked into the office. "What'd I miss?"

"Wesley asked me if I'd like to go with him to your birthday party," she said.

"Aw. Sorry Wes." Barrett gave him a punch on the arm. "Maybe next time, champ."

"She said yes." Wesley returned Barrett's punch.

Barrett looked at her and Wesley. She expected him to laugh or say something sarcastic as usual. All he did was raise a brow and shrug. "Alright, you two. Party starts at 6 o'clock," he said before walking out.

Wesley looked just as confused as she felt. "Who pissed in his cheerios? It's his birthday, for God's sakes, you think he'd be happy."

"I think you should make yourself scarce, Wesley. Aren't you supposed to be working on a project today?"

"The crew isn't here yet. I have nothin' to do but bug you 'till then."

"Wes! Come here for a minute!" Barrett's voice boomed from the break room.

"...Or not. Be back in a minute."

Renee smiled and followed Wesley with her eyes as he walked out. It was hard for her to admit it but she had the tiniest crush on him. She couldn't help it -- he had a great sense of humor that was a little sophomoric at times, but that was part of the appeal. It would never turn into anything serious; she wasn't looking for that. But what was the harm in hanging out outside of work every now and then?

Wesley stood in the lobby of the Turquoise as Renee descended down the stairs. She felt slightly uncomfortable as he and Thelma, who were also going to the party, watched her every step.

"Don't you look beautiful?" Thelma admired her.

She was on the fence about her when she first came in town but it was hard not to love Thelma. She had even confided in her, to a point, about what brought her in Quentin in the first place. It gave her a slight heart attack when Barrett mentioned in passing that she was the town gossip, but so far she'd kept her lips sealed.

"Thanks, Thelma but it's just a dress."

Even with her attempts to downplay it, Renee knew her form-fitting, baby blue dress came out of complete left field from the bland, casual clothing she was known to wear. The longer she'd stayed in Quentin, the more detached she felt from her 'old' life but somehow, she'd found the old Renee in the process. The Renee who liked to wear nice dresses and heels, who took pride in her appearance. With a pair of blue wedge heels and her curly hair brushed into a wavy ponytail, her face was on full display for the first time in a long time. It had been weeks since her eye stopped swelling but she replaced it by covering most of her face with her unruly curls. She'd never step out without makeup; nothing would change that, but it looked nicer than usual tonight.

Apparently Wesley thought so too. His mouth was agape the entire time and didn't close until she was standing in front of him.

"Wow. Renee. You're..."

"Beautiful," Thelma finished. "I already said that, dear."

"Gorgeous," he breathed.

Renee's already blushed-covered cheeks grew hot. It had been a long time since she heard that. Not since...

No. Tonight was going to be a good night. She wouldn't think about him at all.

"Aw, Wesley. Thanks. Ready to go?"

"I'll be there later on. Pass that on to Barrett!" Thelma asked.

"Sure," Renee nodded. "Hey, mind going into Town & County real quick, Wesley? I forgot to buy Barrett a card. If they carry them."

"If not, you can just put your name on my card," he smiled. He pulled across the street and waited while Renee went inside. She preferred the big-box store fifteen minutes away but didn't have the time.

The store verged on being deserted. When she found the greeting card she wanted, she noticed that there was no clerk on duty. Maybe they were in the back?

"Hello?" Renee called out. "Anyone?"

She heard panting coming from the back of the store and followed the sound until she was face-to-face with a man and woman going at it like a couple of wild rabbits.

"Ahem."

They broke apart, startled and embarrassed. The man cleared his throat. "Can I help you?"

"Just trying to buy this," Renee lifted the card.

"Come on," he grumbled.

She looked over to the leggy blonde who looked absolutely petrified. Not one for tattoos (the end result just wouldn't justify the pain), she admired the girl's pink and yellow butterfly design on the back of her neck. Cute.

Scribbling a short message and her name on the inside, she shoved the card into an envelope and wrote Barrett's name on the front.

Dozens of people congregated in the back area of the farm house. Renee recognized most of the partygoers by face but could only identify Eden and Barrett's crew by name. Most of the men were huddled around the barbeque pit, while the women were crowded aroundn chairs chatting amongst themselves. It was reminiscent of all the backyard birthday barbeque parties she'd gone to and thrown back home.

Wesley opened the car door for her. "After you."

Renee tucked her arm underneath his. "Thought we were going together."

Wesley led her into the designated area. They were together all right -- for thirty seconds. When he spotted the containers of ice-cold beer and tender meat sizzling on the grill, he broke away from her like a child in a toy store.

"I'll be right back. Bring you a beer!"

"I don't drink... beer. Never mind."

Renee felt very much the outsider as she looked between these two groups of people she didn't know. It made more sense to sit with the women but she loathed the idle chit chat and nosy questions about her arrival to Quentin that were sure to come up. Ugh.

She scanned the crowd for Barrett. He was in the huge circle of men crowding the pit. She didn't feel like wading through them to give him his card, so she'd wait until he emerged. In the meantime, she would stand against the fence in the middle of both groups, a neutral party. No unwanted interaction with anyone and no interrogations.

"Renee!" Eden waved frantically and rushed over.

Okay, one interrogation. But Eden, like Thelma, was just too adorable not to love. She'd taken a shine to Renee in the past month and likened her as a big sister of sorts.

"Hey Eden. How's the party?"

"Good!" She gasped and looked Renee over. "You look amazing! I love the dress. If only Mama would let me wear something like that."

"Oh, trust me. You'll have plenty of opportunities to dress like this when you're older." Eden's pink and white sundress was too adorable for words. Most teenage girls were a trip but Eden's innocence was clearly still intact. "Besides, what you have on is just fine. Cute."

"Well, cute doesn't get Adrian's attention," she grumbled. "He hasn't looked at me not one time since I've been here."

Aw.

"Who's Adrian?"

Eden pointed to a tall, lanky teenage boy no older than seventeen. He kind of looked like Wesley, without the freckles and red hair. "He's so cute, Renee," she sighed.

Was there anything more precious than puppy love?

Renee put her shoulder over the forlorn girl. "Oh, don't worry. It's still early. He'll see you eventually and --"

Loud dance music blared and drowned her out. Both crowds gathered together and merged as they started to dance together. Eden yelled something about finding Adrian and ran off. For five minutes Renee people-watched and bobbed her head to the beat. As open-minded as she was, she was relieved that they weren't playing country music.

Wesley boogied his way from the crowd and grabbed Renee by the hand. "Dance with me?"

Renee wasn't much of a dancer as much as she just swayed from side to side. But something told her Wesley wouldn't be much better.

The partially inebriated red-head tossed off his cowboy hat and made a complete spectacle of himself. His moves were ill-timed and the constipated facial expression throughout the whole ordeal made Renee laugh so hard she cried and wheezed. It was so bad it drew the attention of the other partygoers.

"What the hell was that?!" Renee screamed, laughed above the noise.

"Those were my moves!" he said proudly when he finished. "You liked 'em, didn't ya?"

Oh lord. She hadn't had that much fun in years.

When the food was ready, the music was turned down and swarms of bodies rushed for the picnic table. Even if Renee hadn't eaten before she came, she would have passed at being caught in a group of hungry people.

The cool breeze and night sky were too good to pass up. A short walk would do her good. They wouldn't miss her.

Her life had transformed so drastically and on impulse that Renee marveled over it often. Okay, she didn't have her own place yet but that would come in time. She'd made new friends, good friends, who liked her for herself. Even though her thing with Wesley wouldn't go anywhere, it was a nice addition to everything else she'd gained. What more could she ask for?

Renee heard footsteps thumping behind her and saw a male figure emerge from the darkness. The street was not very-well lit and it made her nervous.

"I can't believe you're gonna leave my party without sayin' 'happy birthday," he called out from the shadows.

Barrett.

Instantly, she relaxed and stopped, turned around to wait for him.

"You know me better than that," she smiled. "I just wanted to go for a short walk."

"I'm comin' with you," he announced. "Haven't had a minute to myself since I got outta bed."

"You do realize that you're still not alone, right?"

He grinned. "You're good company, I don't mind. Enjoyin' the party?"

"Actually, I've never been a partier," she said. "Or a dancer. I usually just sit down somewhere until or if someone asks me to dance. Then I leave."

"So you made an exception for me. Don't I feel special. Renee, uh..." he chuckled. "Sorta out of place but I want you to know me and the guys really appreciate you. Don't really know how or why you dropped into our laps but we're thankful for it."

It's true. Not that she would tell Wesley and the others at all but if Barrett wanted to know, she'd tell him. It was only fair.

"It's a long story," she sighed.

"Try me."

"I don't think you have the time tonight, birthday boy. Besides, I think you'd better get back."

"Nah, they can miss me for a while more." He walked with his hands in his pockets and nudged his large boot at the dirt road. "So what's going on with you and Wes?"

Renee's eyes went wide. "Me and Wesley? Uh... nothing really," she shrugged. "He makes me laugh. He's fun. Can't dance very well but neither can I. Why?"

"Just askin'. And I don't believe that," he grinned.

"What?"

"That you can't dance. Show me."

Renee looked at him like he was crazy. "Here? Now?"

"Sure." A slow-tempo song played in the distance. He held his hand out. "Shall we?"

She put her palm in his and looked into his blue-green eyes. What was happening?

He rested his hand on her lower back and pulled her close. They both swayed back and forth, never broke eye contact. Renee blushed when she listened closely to the song.

"Come on, get higher

Loosen my lips

Faith and desire

At the swing of your hips just

Pull me down hard and

Drown me in love..."

"I knew you were lyin'," he chuckled.

"Only if you call this dancing."

"Whatever it is, you look damn beautiful doin' it."

Renee's heart felt like it jumped out of her chest. What did he say?

"Huh?" she repeated out loud.

"You look beautiful tonight, Renee." He pulled her closer. She could feel his hard muscles pressing against her soft body. His shiny black hair tickled her skin as he leaned down and took her face in his hand, his nose just inches away from hers. He was one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever laid eyes on. Those soft lips...

"Uncle Barrett!" Eden yelled. "Time for cake!"

Both of them took a step back from each other. Barrett turned a shade of red she had never seen and cleared his throat. "Guess we should head back."

Renee walked in silence and looked at the ground the entire time, mind racing wildly. She... no. He had a girlfriend. She'd never seen Sarah before but he talked about her enough. It was clear he cared for her. So what had just transpired, then?

Back at the farm, they parted ways. Barrett went towards the crowd while Renee sat in one of the empty lawn chairs and closed her eyes, put her hand on her forehead. Her mind was reeling and hadn't stopped yet.

"Renee?"

She looked up. "What, Wesley?"

"Where you been?" he slurred. He was completely wasted.

"I went for a walk. You should sit down." She grabbed Wesley's hand and forced him into the seat next to her.

"Aren't you gonna get some cake?" he muttered.

"Maybe later. Are you okay?"

Renee was so attentive with Wesley that she didn't notice Barrett approaching with a woman.

"Renee, I want you to meet Sarah, my girlfriend." Barrett said.

When the two women made eye contact, their mouths dropped.

It was the same girl with the same pink and yellow butterfly tat on her neck from Town and County. The same girl who'd had her tongue shoved down the clerk's throat.

"Nice to meet you, Renee!" Sarah smiled forcibly. "I have never met you a day in my life, isn't that something?"

There was no faking it with Renee. The most she could do was utter a hello.

Had she been sucked into a soap opera somehow? This was way too much for her to handle.

"Barrett, I should get Wesley... home. Here's your birthday card." She fumbled through her purse and handed the card to him. "Goodnight." She tried to pull Wesley to his feet but the heavy man didn't budge.

"Just leave him," Barrett said. "He's as good as useless until the mornin'."

"Well... goodnight." Renee sped-walked back to the Turquoise, undressed and collapsed in bed. When they danced, Barrett's eyes said it all. He liked her. As much as Renee hated to admit, she had always liked him from the moment she saw him in Lana's. But he was in a committed relationship, or so he thought. And then there was the issue with Sarah.

Oh, god. Should she tell Barrett?

Tonight's incident aside, he was her friend. She'd want someone to do the same for her in the same situation. At the same time, she'd gotten herself into infidelity quandaries with friends before that never ended well.




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 02



Her head was swimming, it was getting late and she had to get up early. For now, her decision was to remain decision less. Impartiality meant coming out unscathed when the dust was kicked up. But how long could she keep it a secret?

*

I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2! I'd really like to hear your feedback.



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 03



I had started to settle into a routine (Virgos do that), so it came as a bit of a shock when things were suddenly different. I slipped between the fence and garage at about the same time as usual, but tonight, Sharon wasn't settling into her evening routine. Instead, she was a bustle of activity. From out here, I couldn't really tell what she was doing, but she was doing it with great focus. Maybe she was finally going to have someone over, finally solve for me the mystery of her apparent unattachment. Whatever it was, I didn't need to stand here in the courtyard watching, so I made my way around to the back of the house.

But, wait. This was wrong too. The section of tree stump I'd been using as a footstool wasn't on the porch, it was by the bathroom window. My mind went into a whirl. Surely I had put it back, hadn't I? True, I was not in a particularly collected frame of mind when I left, but I wouldn't have forgotten that, would I?

What did it mean? Maybe she had another `admirer', one who was not as careful as I was to avoid tipping her off. Unlikely. She was going to bed when I left last night, so what could have prompted moving the stump. I just couldn't make it fit. After pondering it for a while longer, I decided that I must have forgotten in my post-orgasmic state, resolving to be more careful. Still, it nagged at me.

The bedroom blinds were wide open, the light shining out under the lilacs, so I couldn't sit there. I could come back later, but I didn't want to miss anything. Finally I just went back to the back of the yard and sat with my back against the fence. It was nearly 10, and I couldn't imagine anyone dropping by much later than that, so I figured I wouldn't have long to wait.

At about 10:15, the bathroom light went on. I had apparently missed the evening massage. Oh well, c'est la vie. I climbed quietly up on the stump. She wasn't there. I heard the window open in the bedroom, saw the shaft of light diminish as the blinds came down, noticed the remaining beam: about a foot high opening at the bottom of the window I guessed. I was thinking of going over to sit under the lilacs when she walked back into the bathroom.

She was nude, of course, carrying a box, which she set by the tub, and a black satin negligee on a hanger, which she hung on the door. So she WAS entertaining. I wasn't quite sure how this made me feel, but ultimately decided that, with the blinds still up a foot, I would probably get to watch. Somehow I was certain that she would want the lights on while she made love. She left the room, and came back in with a champagne bucket and two glasses. She must be planning to be `surprised' in the bath. She filled both, taking a sip out of one, then set them by the tub and slipped into the bath.

At least some things didn't change. She settled back in the tub, smoothing the water down her breasts, long, lingering strokes, then down her stomach and across her mound, stopping there to appraise her shave, or maybe just for fun. As she drew a finger slowly up over her clitoris, her legs spread to allow better access, one knee resting against each side of the tub. She toyed with herself, teasing but not settling into a rhythm. Her touches were slow, tantalizing, broken by sips of champagne. "Doesn't want to wear herself out for her lover" I thought, probably showing my ignorance of feminine eroticism.

She must have spent 20 minutes in the tub, arousing herself, and me, but both of us to a lower pitch than usual. Finally she pulled the plug and stepped out. It appeared that her "surprised in the tub" scenario didn't work out. She didn't seem perturbed, just picked up the other glass of champagne and drained it. I, on the other hand, was steamed. What fool would be late for this date? Unbelievable. But my disbelief couldn't last long. I was too enchanted by the sight of her sitting on the edge of the tub dressing for her lover.

It was exquisite, like a striptease in reverse, but the clothes going on just made her more seductive. First came crotchless panties, the wisps of black lace around the opening emphasizing the smooth skin of her pussy, her lips parted with desire so her clit showed clearly. Then came a black garter belt, and a bare wisp of a bra, black as well; for effect, not because she needed it. A teddy was next, satin, slit to the navel and loosely laced, falling away at the breasts to show the lace of the bra.


She must have saved her favorite item of clothing for last, black silk stockings, with a barely discernable pattern. She rolled them on at a glacial pace, smoothing and caressing, holding her leg out for admiration when she reached the knee and again when she reached the top. Fastening the outside clips, she ran her finger gently around inside the top of the stocking to her inner thigh, then back to the front, to back to front. The finger couldn't resist a lazy wander over her clit as she went to fasten the last clip. She stroked her hands up and down the leg, obviously just enjoying the feeling, the lips of her pussy opening and closing as she bent her leg.

The other leg got the same treatment, but this time at the top she lingered longer on her pussy, dipped her finger inside, lifted it to her lips to taste, then reached out and picked up a champagne glass. Raising her leg onto the side of the tub, she brought the glass to her pussy, turning it and placing the rim between the lips, then rotated it to put a smooth ring of her sweet juices around the top of the glass. Then she placed it and the other glass on the tray with the bucket, filled both glasses, and rose to go into the other room.

I stepped down and crossed to the bedroom window just in time to see her set down the champagne on a small table in the middle of the room, then leave again, to put on high heels as it turned out. I moved over under the lilacs and stopped, cold. This was ALL wrong. There was a small stool there, a low table. There was no screen on the window, and a chair in the center of her room next to the table. And there was a note on the window.

I looked around (nothing), crossed and read the note:





Eye of the Beholder Ch. 03



The sun emitted such stifling humidity that Renee could barely breathe. The temperature rose steadily over the past week and culminated in near hundred degree weather. Monday through Friday Renee dodged the scorching heat by staying under the office's central air all day; by the time her shift was over, the sun had almost set and the temperature cooled to a comfortable warm. It was Saturday morning and Thelma asked her to help weed, tend and plant new flowers in the terrace garden.

She couldn't turn her down, of course -- she'd been so understanding of Renee's situation that she waived the room fee indefinitely until she landed on her feet in Houston. But as she kneeled down in the grass, mahogany skin unprotected from the sun's unforgiving rays and lacking a large sunhat like the one Thelma wore, all she wanted to do was crawl back inside and collapse on her bed with the A/C on full blast. Yet she didn't complain or make a fuss. Thelma, a widow with no children, had grown close to Renee and vice versa. Even if it wasn't the activity of choice for such a hot day, Renee would gladly tough it out for her.

Besides, the discomfort she felt now paled heavily in comparison to the tension-filled week as a whole.

Cloaking her emotions was an old hat that Renee had once proudly worn. But since she'd moved on to Quentin, it was something she desperately wanted to leave behind. The invaluable feeling of being herself, the real Renee -- friendly, somewhat outspoken, bubbly with a pinch of sass -- had all but disappeared after what she'd learned exactly one week ago.

The secret gnawed at her stomach like a rabid badger and had forced her back in her protective shell. It was straight to work and back home; any invitations to hang out with the guys were turned down, not even with Wesley. In-office conversations were brief, concise. They transitioned from lighthearted joking to strictly business. The only person who gave her a hard time about it was Wesley but an ambiguous excuse like "I'm not feeling well" or "I have a lot of work to do" eased his worries.

Any interaction she had with Barrett began with bated breath and paranoia. Questions were met with one-word responses and she could barely look him in the eyes. Looking back, the ability to hide her true feelings had disintegrated so terribly that he had to know something wasn't right. To her surprise, he said nothing, never asked her what was wrong. It was almost like he avoided her. If that was the case and she wasn't imagining things, she knew the reason why.

Every night for a week she had replayed the moment they shared at his birthday party an infinite number of times, and each time she found herself smiling coyly at the thought: Barrett, large palms nestled tight on her round hips, grinning at her with the faint glimmer of...desire? But as the days went by, she'd questioned that thought. Maybe the glimmer was of admiration and delight that she had transitioned from being guarded and reserved to open and free, both inside and out. It didn't have to have romantic undertones and judging by how Barrett beamed when he introduced her to Sarah, they probably weren't.

Sarah.

Her stomach did backflips and somersaults at the mention of her name and person. Her mind was clouded with puzzled thoughts about Sarah's motives. Renee felt odd admitting it, even in her thoughts but it was the truth. Barrett was one of the most amazing men she'd ever met. Nothing, nothing could justify being unfaithful to him. He definitely deserved better. She just hoped he found out sooner rather than later. One thing was for sure, though -- she wasn't going to tell him. Renee knew all too well how it felt to have your world turned upside down and she wasn't going to be the one to make Barrett feel that pain.

"... That's why I use this fertilizer. A bit expensive for this old lady's pockets but darn if it doesn't work every time." Thelma had been talking the whole time but Renee only caught the tip end. Of course it didn't get by her. "What's wrong, dear?"

Renee faked a smile and shook her head. "Nothing. Just a bit distracted." She dug at the soil and made a large enough hole to transplant the morning glories. Thelma's eyes were steady on her and she swallowed nervously.

Great.

She was doing that 'thing' again where she stared as if she had x-ray vision to look past all the fake smiles and bullshit and find out the truth. She had cracked her the first time around with the same tactic and Renee ended up telling her all about Terrell and her past life. But there was more at stake this time around; she couldn't tell Thelma the truth.

Renee quickly glanced at Thelma through the corner of her eye and saw her smiling warmly.

"We've been at it for a while, hun. Let's go in and have some iced tea, hmm?" Thelma stood to her feet and walked towards the bed and breakfast.

Renee trailed behind her apprehensively but exhaled when she walked into lobby and plopped down in a massive wicker chair. The cold air was a welcome relief in contrast to the brutal heat outside. Thelma disappeared to the kitchen, returned with a huge pitcher of iced tea and two glasses and filled them both to the brim.

"Now," she sighed. "What's on your mind?"

Renee tapped her exposed and slightly sunburned thighs nervously. "Nothing."

"Mmhm." Thelma took a long drink from her glass and exhaled contentedly. "It's Barrett, isn't it?"

How the hell did she do that?

Renee fidgeted with her hands and sighed in exasperation. "It's a lot of things, Thelma. I don't want to talk about it, though."

"Ha! Come now, hun. You've been in Quentin long enough to know I don't accept answers like that."

"Kind of," Renee admitted.

"Hmm." Thelma paused, as if trying to analyze her answer. "You like him. And why not, dear? He is a handsome young man. Reminds me so much of my Herbert."

"What? No! I mean..." Renee stuttered. "I mean, I do. Just not in that way, Thelma."

"Uh-huh." Thelma was not convinced.

"I mean it, honestly. I just... I know something that I think would upset him."

"Oooh. You mean Sarah fooling around with Pete across the way," she said nonchalantly.

Renee's heart sank. "You... you know?"

Thelma nodded and cradled her cheek. "I saw it the other day," she explained, stared into the distance. "Pete and I have a business agreement. I buy items almost exclusively from him every month at a discount and in exchange I direct most of the people who stay here to him. It was a solid venture until he hired that little girl," she said scornfully. "I went in earlier this week to re-order items as usual and wouldn't you know she told me I had to pay full price? Hmph. I set her straight and told her I'd be back when Pete was in, he'd know what I was talking about. It was most unfortunate, the time that I chose to go back. I found them in the back of the store, both naked as the day they were born and in-mid..." Her beige skin flushed in embarrassment. "You get where I'm going, don't you?"

A massive weight was removed from Renee. Someone else knew. It wasn't just her.

And yet, that sense of betraying Barrett by not telling him increased two-fold. Two parties knew; two parties could vouch they had seen the same thing. Why hide it from him?

"So why didn't you tell Barrett?" Renee voiced her thoughts.

"The same reason you haven't told him and more. I've known Barrett since he was eight years old. Lana and I were best friends up until the day she died. That boy has gone through things you wouldn't believe in his short life. You may think I'm even more obligated to tell him because of those things but..." she exhaled. "Whatever remains hidden will eventually be revealed by the one who seeks truth. In other words, Barrett will find out on his own if enough suspicion is aroused. Judging by how utterly careless Sarah is, I'd say it's due to happen any day now."

Thelma reached over and rubbed Renee's shoulder to comfort her.

"My dear, you have already gone though your own trials and tribulations. Surround yourself with peace; don't inherit anyone else's problems to make them your own." Thelma stood up and stretched. "Oh, these old bones need to rest for a while. I'm going to take a nap. Don't be too down on yourself, okay?"

Easier said than done but it was driving her crazy. If only for one day, she'd try.

"Sure, Thelma."

Six hours and a short nap later, Renee woke to the sound of light tapping at her door. She stumbled out of bed, yawned and opened the door, assuming it was Thelma. But when her blurred view focused she turned into a statue.

"Barrett," she whispered groggily.

His grin was pleasant but there was a certain something that threw her off. He seemed... sad.

"Hey. Didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to see how you were," he shrugged.

"Great," she lied. "I'm doing great. How about you?"

He raked his hand through his thick hair and heaved a sigh. "I've had better days, darlin'. Should be restin', seein' as it's my day off and all. Unfortunately I'm stuck with chaperone duties. Takin' Eden and Adrian to the movies."

"That's cute," Renee smiled. She ran into Eden once or twice in the past week and both times, all she did was gush about Adrian, who turned out to be Wesley's little brother. "I hope you guys have a good time."

"Yeah." he rubbed the back of his head. "Thing is, it was supposed to be a double date but Sarah can't make it. She's workin' late."

That nauseous feeling came back. "Oh really? That's too bad."

"I was wonderin' if you'd wanna come instead," he asked hesitantly. "Christ, now I feel like a teenager askin' out a girl for the first time."

Renee stood in the door frame silently for a few seconds. Again she found herself between a rock and a hard place. She knew there was no chance of telling him about Sarah flat-out but did she really want to spend the entire night with him and the secret bouncing around in her mind and heart?

She remembered Thelma's advice earlier that afternoon.

"Give me fifteen to change?" she asked.

"Sure. Movie doesn't start for another forty-five minutes."

"Thanks." Renee closed the door and quickly slipped on a pair of form-fitting blue-jean capris, a yellow tank top and wedge heels. She brushed her wavy hair back in a ponytail and spent most of the time putting on more makeup. No matter how much she became comfortable around others, her makeup regimen wouldn't change. It was the only thing keeping her from looking completely hideous. She opened the door and found Barrett sitting in one of the wicker chairs she'd sat in earlier with Thelma, looking bored out of his mind.

"...Do you know what that saying means?" Thelma asked.

"Can't say I do, Thelma."

"I'm going to give you my book on Navajo proverbs," Thelma declared. "Wait right here."

Barrett followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight and bolted out of the chair.

"Quick, let's get out of here before she comes back," he said, grabbed Renee's hand tight and led her outside.

Renee laughed. "That was rude, Barrett."

"She's been doing that to me since I was a kid. Jesus, you think she'd get the point one of these times. No such luck. Alright, Eden and Adrian's in the back... HEY!" Barrett rushed to the flatbed of his truck and looked like he was going to pop a gasket when he saw the two hormone-crazed teens kissing and grabbed them both by their clothing, pulled them up at the waist. "What the FUCK do you two think you're doing?"

"Uh..." Adrian gave a goofy chuckle. "Gettin' to know each other better?"

"Not with me. Both of you, out. Renee, you mind drivin' us? Eden can sit up front with you and uh," Barrett patted Adrian on the back with such force that the scrawny teen almost fell over. "Me and Adrian here can sit in the back. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Renee repeated.

The drive to the small theater was over faster than anticipated. Eden talked about Adrian and Adrian spent the entire ride being the recipient of poorly veiled threats made by Barrett. She found an empty parking space and they all exited the car and joined the crowd of moviegoers.

"So what are we watchin'?" Adrian asked.

"A Kiss For You," Eden bubbled. "It's the only romantic movie they're playin'!"

Adrian and Barrett released simultaneous annoyed grunts and Eden and Renee laughed.

"Let's get this over with," Barrett grumbled.

The group purchased their tickets and concessions before heading to the theater room. Adrian and Eden sat directly in front of Barrett and Renee so he could "keep an eye on them." The crowd hushed when the lights dimmed and the movie began.

Renee had seen better but it was good date-movie fare. The plot revolved around long-lost love, two people who had passed up the chance to be together for their careers. The scenes were romantic-tension filled which culminated in a steamy love scene. It was the only part of movie that Renee found herself entranced with. It had been over a year since Renee made love. She didn't think she was ready for it just yet but it was impossible for the thought not to cross her mind every now and then. She missed the intimacy and adoration that came from two people wanting to express that love in the most beautiful way.

Eden and Adrian were giggling amongst themselves. When she looked over to Barrett, she was surprised to find him staring back.

She quickly turned away and shut her eyes, felt a shiver go down her spine. She hoped it was just by chance and not intentional that their eyes met. 

The movie ended soon after and the entire theater piled out and headed to the parking lot. Renee dropped Adrian off at his house and took Barrett and Eden back to the Turquoise to pick up his truck.

"Thanks for takin' us Renee!" Eden said and threw her arms around her.

"No problem, hun," Renee said and returned the hug. "See you later." She looked over to Barrett and smiled. "I had fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me. See you Monday."

"Hold on a sec," Barrett said. "Eden, I'll be in the car in minute."

"Okay Uncle Barrett."

He looked down at his watch. "It's only eight-thirty. You hungry? Noticed you didn't get anything at the movies."

Come to think of it, Renee had mistaken of the nausea she was feeling as guilt when some of it was hunger. "I am, actually."

"I'm gonna take Eden home and I'll be back in twenty. Want to come over and help me with dinner? I'm not much of a cook."

"Sure." She blurted out and immediately regretted doing so.

"Be back soon."

Twenty minutes came and went and Barrett pulled up on his Harley right on time. Renee arched a brow.

"I know you don't expect me to get on that thing!" she yelled over the revving engine.

"Live a little!" he yelled back. He lowered the kickstand, stood up and walked towards Renee with the helmet, gingerly putting it over her head. "What's that you called me when you saw me in Lana's?"

Renee paused. "Darth Vader?"

"Nice to meet you, Darth," he laughed, tapped on the helmet.

Renee rolled her eyes. "Funny."

Barrett straddled the motorcycle and lifted the kickstand. "Alright, just get on behind me and put your hands around me. Hold on tight."

Renee felt her heart leap as she followed his directions but hesitated to put her arms around his waist.

"Jesus," he chucked, looked back at her. His black hair blew in the night air and his grin was electric. He reached behind him and took her arms in his hands and forced them around his midsection. "There. Good?"

Renee's body pressed so tight against his back turned those occasional shivers into a light tingling sensation. His body was rock hard underneath his clothes. As he took off, she gripped him tighter and he looked back at her with a reassuring smile. She had never been on a motorcycle before and call her crazy, she actually liked it.

They pulled into the long driveway of his farm and parked. He led her inside the house for the first time and Renee couldn't believe how stunning it was. The house had rustic, antique decor with a few modern pieces sprinkled in between. The kitchen was huge, with an island counter and a kitchen table that sat at least twelve, fourteen people. There were two bathrooms on the main floor alone and the living room was unreal. It was by far the most beautiful house she had ever set foot in.

When he was done giving her the tour, he took her back to the kitchen and retrieved some ingredients from the fridge.

"You never did tell me what you're making," Renee realized.

"Chicken Amaretto," he said.

"Isn't that kind of complicated for someone who's not good at cooking?"

"Alright so I'm not that bad," he confessed. "I just thought you'd like a homemade meal. Gotta be better than whatever you've been buyin' or eatin' at Thelma's. Trust me, I've had the woman's cookin'. It's... yeah."

"Need any help?"

"Actually, I got it covered. You can sit tight and watch me if you'd like."

Renee scanned over his body with his back turned to her and felt another tingle. "Alright."

She watched him move fluidly through the kitchen and smiled. Who knew that he could be so multifaceted with his hands?

When the food was simmering he pulled up a chair across the table from her. "I noticed you were sorta distant this week."

Renee's smile disappeared. Uh oh.

"I was just not feeling well." She hoped feeding him the same lines she fed Wesley would work.

"I've seen you in worse spirits and still be talkative," he countered. He studied her and licked his lips absent-mindedly. More tingling. She wished it would go away.

"I've just had a lot on my mind," she tried again.

He nodded. "Well that's fair. But you know if you need someone to talk to other than Thelma, I'm here. Not the best when it comes to givin' advice but I'm a good listener," he offered.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I was thinkin'... you weren't really sayin' much because of last week. When we danced and all."

Renee looked at him in shock. "What about it?"

"Come on, Renee. I was outta line."

"No you weren't. You were... it was fun. I had fun."

"Sure you aren't upset?" he asked.

"Positive," she smiled.

"I meant when I said you looked beautiful. Seein' you happy and dressed up like that, It needed to be said. Not that Wes didn't say it a million times," he laughed.

Renee blushed. "Thanks, Barrett."

He reached over and held her hand, squeezed it tight. "No problem." He stood up and walked back to the stove. Renee heard the door rattling behind her and before she could react, Sarah walked in and looked every bit surprised to see Renee as Renee was to see her.

"Barrett. What's this?" she said, irritation laced in her voice.

"Hey," Barrett said, walked over to greet her with a kiss. "You've met Renee. I invited her over for dinner tonight. Thought you were gonna be late."

"I was. I told you I get off at nine-thirty." She looked at Renee with contempt when Barrett turned his back but forced a smile whenever he looked in her direction. "I didn't know we were having a dinner party. Why not invite the whole gang; Wes, Brandi, Eden?"

"Wes is at home restin' up. He had a little accident on the job site yesterday. Brandi's still on shift and Eden's at home," Barrett explained. "And they've been over plenty of times. It's Renee's first visit."

Renee felt suffocated as she looked between the two. It was too much for her. She had to leave.

"Actually Barrett, I should get back to Thelma. She wanted me to um, sort some things out for her."

"You haven't even eaten yet, Renee," Barrett said.

"I'm fine. I can grab something on the way home." She stood up and walked past Sarah, who whispered:

"Smart girl."

Renee bolted out of the door and was on her way back home on foot when she felt Barrett grab her by the wrist.

"Hold on a minute," he said, agitated. "Why are you leavin'?"




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 03



"I just need to get back home."

"Shit. Renee, wait. At least let me take you home. In the truck this time."

Renee silently got into the pick-up truck while he drove her back to the Turquoise.

"'Night," he said. She barely responded.

Thelma was right -- the best way for him to find out would be on his own. She didn't want to concern herself with the situation. There were only two problems: she didn't want to see him get hurt and she cared for him so deeply it scared her.

*

Barrett rested against the headboard of his bed. God damn it. 

All he could think about was Renee.

Ever since his birthday party she had invaded his thoughts so selfishly that very little came close. He wanted to know more about her but this past week he couldn't bring himself to talk to her much. Not after what happened between them. As much as he wanted to admit it was nothing, there was no way in hell he could. Before the party, Renee had always been guarded to the gills with little glimpses of her true self shining through every blue moon. But that night it radiated and was intoxicating, inside and out. She had found some peace and comfort in Quentin, with him and his friends and family. That alone was enough to make him feel great and he wished it had just stopped there, but....

"Hmm." Barrett exhaled and visualized Renee as she was that night. That gorgeous smile just about turned him into a diabetic and man... that dress. He had seen various girlfriends come and go, model all kinds of revealing garments for him. None would ever stand out in his mind like that hip-hugging, curve-clinging dress she was wearing. Of course these thoughts were followed by extreme guilt and internal chastising.

He glanced towards the closed bathroom door when he thought of Sarah. He had never thought about another woman so strongly while being involved with someone else, and it was like a stab to the gut each time. Sarah had been good to him. Yeah, she was superficial and slightly lost most of the time but hell, she was only 24. She'd grow out of it.

And Renee...

Even if he was single, he wouldn't think sideways about asking her out. She deserved a fresh start with a complete gentleman, someone just as full of promise and life like she was. Someone who could treat her like she needed to be treated. Not him.

The bathroom door swung open.

"Damn," Barrett grinned, looked her over.

Sarah slinked out in platform stilettos and some kind of red lingerie that only covered her midriff. Her small breasts and light pink nipples were out for his viewing pleasure. She did a full turn and revealed that her small, firm ass was also exposed. Since when did Sarah, the amateur nudist, start wearing lingerie?

"You like?" she said playfully. "I bought it yesterday as a surprise for you."

"It's... somethin'," he chuckled.

"Mmm," she giggled and slid up the foot of the bed towards him. "So are you."

She pulled the covers back from his torso and legs, ran her hands over his boxers and pulled them down just so his member sprang to life. Every night since Sarah started working at Town and County she'd been riled up so much that they barely got enough sleep to function the next day.

Her small, porcelain hand gripped him at the base and he exhaled at her touch. She glided over him, from base to head and back again. Fuck if she didn't know how to tease.

"Barrett... if someone asked me to say ten things I love about you, do you know how easy it would be?"

Her lips parted and Barrett groaned when her tongue pressed against his hard flesh.

"One... two.... three...." She rattled off every inch her tongue travelled up his cock. "Nine... ten." Without warning, Sarah opened her mouth wide and took most of him inside of her throat, her head bobbing violently against him.

He grunted, pulled her hair back to the base of her head in his fist. He watched her every move and was about to close his eyes when he noticed something on the side of her neck. A dark purple bruise that wasn't there this morning. His eyes sharpened skeptically as he looked at her and when he could contain his curiosity no longer, he yanked her head back and away from him.

"What the hell is that?" he growled.

"What?" Sarah said absently, rubbed at the corners of her mouth. "What's what?"

"On. Your. Neck," he emphasized. "What is on your neck?"

Sarah stood up and walked to the wall mirror, confused. "That?" she laughed. "Oh baby, that's just um... I was stocking somethin' kinda high, right? And I didn't put it on the shelf right so it fell back down and hit me in the neck. Crazy, huh?"

Barrett pulled his boxers up over his now flaccid cock and stood to his feet, towered over her in suspicion. "Why would it hit you in the neck and not the face?" he reasoned.

"I don't know!" she said, breathing heavily. "It-it just did. Why are you angry?"

Barrett stared at her and said nothing. He turned around, laid down in bed and turned the lights off.

Night after night of late shifts. Increased sex drive. Lingerie and stilettos. Barrett never had what he called intuition but if it was what he was feeling now, he couldn't ignore it. Too many changes in such a short period of time.

Tomorrow evening, he'd make a trip over to Town and County. If it was nothing, it was nothing.

If his instincts proved right.... God help everybody involved.

~

All Sunday morning and afternoon was delegated to maintaining the farm. The cows and horses were fed and taken care of and Wesley stopped by to help rebuild one of the horse's stalls. He was skipping Sunday dinner with Brandi and Eden and felt guilty about it but as he walked on foot to Town and County, he knew it had to be done. For a moment, he thought about taking his pick-up truck or his Harley. But seeing as how they were both louder than the engine of a 747, it wasn't exactly the best way to be inconspicuous.

He cut across the parking lot and entered the store. Pete was almost always on till or stocking something in view but he didn't see him, nor was Sarah anywhere to be found. He walked quietly through the store and scanned each aisle. Nothing.

Maybe it was nothing.

He was on his way out when he heard muffled voices coming from a room marked "Employees Only." He wasn't one to eavesdrop but this time he'd make an exception. He pressed his ear against the door and listened carefully. First a man -- clearly Pete, groaned.

"That's it. God, you're a pro. Go deeper, take it all."

Tick.

Barrett continued listening but didn't hear anything else for a while. Finally, he heard the soft moan of a woman and panting.

"I know what I'm doing." Definitely Sarah.

Tick.

He flung the door open and the visual sent felt adrenaline coursing through him at an alarming rate. Sarah on her knees. Pete with his pants around his ankles. Both of them staring at Barrett like two idiots. The last thing he clearly remembered was lunging across the room and the sting of his knuckles connecting with the soft cartilage of Pete's nose.

Boom.

*

The sound of a disturbing scream woke Renee up from her nap. When she realized it was coming from outside, she threw on clothes and panicked, ran for the lobby door. Her first thought was that Thelma had hurt herself in some way but she was standing out front, pointing to Town and County.

"Across the way!" she shouted.

Renee ran over and rushed through the front door.

"Oh my god!" A woman cried. "STOP! BARRETT!"

Renee flew through the aisles and yelled. Barrett held Pete's collar in one hand and punched him repeatedly in the other. Pete dripped blood and writhed around, tried to break free from Barrett's grasp. Sarah looked at Renee helplessly and gripped at her blonde hair as if she wanted to pull it from her scalp. "Please stop!"

"Barrett!" Renee grabbed him by the arm.

He looked over his shoulder at her. One of his eyes was swollen shut. He stared at her silently and turned back to Pete, his fist still clenched, arm reared back, ready to swing again.

"NO!" Renee yelled, tried to pull him away. "That's enough! Let him go!"

Again he looked at Renee. This time, he opened one fist and then the other. Pete went sailing to the floor and groaned in agony. He was panting heavily and appeared to be almost in a trance. He scanned the room until he found Sarah and went rushing towards her. Sarah backed against the wall and flinched like she anticipated being hit. Instead, he stopped right in front of her, out of breath and sweating hard.

"I shoulda known," he puffed. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were too fuckin' good to be true. You're a spoiled fuckin' brat that wants everything handed to you. You couldn't work a regular nine to five so you quit. Hmm," he laughed bitterly. "I guess fuckin' for pay was a really sweet deal, huh?"

"Barrett..." she whispered, her hazel eyes watered with tears. "Not like this." She reached out to touch him but he backed away.

"No," he sighed, chest heaving. "Just like this, Sarah." He looked down at Pete and back to her, shook his head. "Two of a fuckin' kind. Better hope Charlene doesn't find out. I hear she's got a mean right hand." Barrett backed away and walked out of the employee room, nodding his head towards the exit. "Come on, Renee."

Renee looked around one last time and followed him outside. The second he stepped foot out outside, he slumped against the door and groaned in pain.

"No, no, no, no," Renee said, desperately trying to hold him up. His weight was too much for her to support and she had to let him sit down on the pavement.

Thelma ran over and raved her cell phone around frantically. "Oh my lord... let me call an ambulance."

"No, not for Barrett. If anything, Pete's much worse," Renee clarified. "Go see if he's alright. I'll try to get Barrett home."

*

"Barrett. Barrett man, you alright?"

Pain coursed through his head and abdomen when he finally came to.

The soft fluorescent lights and chorus of voices surrounding him made him stir. He forced his eyes open but could only see out of his left. Wesley, Renee and Thelma stood over him, watched him fretfully.

"Barrett!" Wesley bent down and practically yelled in his ear. "Can ya hear me?"

"I'm hurt. Not deaf," he rasped, sat up at the waist. He winced and reached down to touch his stomach. That stupid fuck managed to give him a hard punch to the gut before he could get his hands on him.

"Don't touch it," Thelma advised. "I called Brandi and she'll be over tomorrow morning to take a look."

"Aw," Barrett frowned, leaned back and closed his eyes. "What'd you do that for?"

"It was either that or the hospital," Wesley chimed in. "And I know how much you hate hospitals."

True. Barrett hadn't gone to the hospital in years and if he had his way, the next time would be his last, hopefully years from now when he was old and gray.

Renee sat at the foot of the couch with her hand resting on his blanket-covered leg. She looked worried and it made him feel like an ass. The last thing he wanted was for her to be concerned over the likes of him.

"Hey," he groaned, gave her his best attempt at a grin.

"Hey," she whispered back.

"You'd better thank Renee," Wes urged. "If it wasn't for her you'd probably be in jail. Or at least in the parkin' lot still."

Barrett reached forward to grab her hand. "Ugh!"

"Don't move," she cooed. "I'll come to you."

She extended her arm to him and he took her hand, laced their fingers together and rested both in his lap.

He smiled and squeezed tight. "Well I appreciate you all lookin' out for me but I'll be fine."

Thelma leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Wes gave Barrett a quick hug.

"Get better, man. And sorry about Sarah."

The name alone inflamed anger in him once more. He didn't respond. The two left through the kitchen door. He looked over at Renee and loosened grip on her hand.

"I uh..." he trailed off. "You... all I can say is thanks," he shrugged. "But you should go on back and get some sleep. With the shape I'm in now I'm gonna need you to take over for a few days 'till I get better."

Renee nodded. "Sure. If you... need anything, just give me a call."

Right before she walked past him, Barrett softly took her hand in his palm, held it for a few moments and then kissed it. She closed her eyes, sighed and smiled before she left.

He spent most of the night trying not to sleep -- he didn't know if he had a concussion or not and didn't want to chance it. Like so many nights past, Renee was the only thing on his mind. That and the fact that he'd gone from involved to single in a little less than 24 hours.

What a difference a day made. 

~

The rumor mill in Quentin was rife with gossip after the altercation between Barrett, Sarah and Pete. A small town with enough residents meant fights became the stuff of legends by the time it was passed around. Depending on who you asked, Barrett sent Pete sailing through the window display or tied him to the roof of his pickup truck and went flying down the road at roughly 90 miles per hour. As much as he liked the creative spins he was relieved when the murmurings dissipated for good.

Forward to two weeks later and things were back to normal. Well, almost. Pete pressed charges and Barrett sat in the county jail for two hours before getting out on bond. He knew after the beating (which the fucker deserved) that consequences weren't far behind but he didn't regret a thing. In fact, if he could do it over again, he would. He'd have his day in court soon but luckily, the judge had become well acquainted with him in his teenage years and always ruled with a velvet glove on his old, ironed fist. He'd probably do no more than pay a fine.

To his surprise Sarah and her deceit rarely crossed his mind. Sure, some nights it had left him puzzled and a little hurt but he hadn't been licking his wounds. He jumped head first back into his work and for some reason he could not figure out, the gossip had done wonders for his construction business. Go figure.

He was in the lobby of Thelma's bed and breakfast, inspecting a sizeable crack in the wall. It was hard for him to concentrate knowing that Renee was so close in proximity. He craved her company when she wasn't around and couldn't get her to stay over for longer than a few hours. He couldn't blame her -- she probably thought of him as some testosterone-driven caveman who resorted to using his fists and not his words but he couldn't help it. It's how he'd been all his life and at the age he was now it would be nigh impossible to change it.

He ran his fingertips over the jagged foundation and furrowed his brow. "It's shiftin'," he explained. "When's the last time you had anyone work on the foundation?"

"Well let's see. We opened in 1986. Herbert had the stained glass windows put in around '95. Ah. Never," she concluded.

"I think it's time." He placed an arm around her shoulder to console her. She stressed over the phone that whatever was wrong it couldn't cause the b&b to close but that just wasn't possible. "It won't take long, my guys work fast. Maybe a week, two at the most."

"Two weeks? No," she bristled, disagreed. "A few days at the most."

"It's gonna take more than two weeks, Thelma," he sighed.

"I can't!" she shouted. "This is all I have, Barrett. If I can't run my bed and breakfast, I have nothing."

The door to Room 4 creaked open and Renee peered out from around the frame. "Everything okay?"

Barrett grinned and became oblivious to the topic at hand until Thelma continued.

"The foundation needs to be fixed and I'll have to close up for -- oh, no." The stout elderly woman clutched at her chest and shook her head sadly. "Dear, I'm so sorry. Where will you stay?" Thelma looked at Barrett sternly. "See? We can't close. She'll have nowhere to stay!"

Renee, bewildered and trying to process the information, rested a hand on Thelma's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Thelma. I'll be fine."

"You could stay with me," he offered.

Both women turned to him and simultaneously said:

"What?"

"You've been in my house Renee. I mean you haven't been upstairs but for Christ's sake, it's a six bedroom house. More than enough space for you."

"And just where will I stay?" Thelma pushed him, put a hand on her hip.

"Don't you have a sister one town over?"

Thelma deflated. "Drat. You have a point. And it's been so long since I've seen Ada. I'd better start packing." She grumbled under her breath and left the lobby.

Renee shifted in the middle of the floor and looked at him with a nervousness that rubbed off on him. He could see in her eyes she didn't think it was a good idea; he didn't know HER reasons why, but his were simple -- he was afraid of doing anything stupid. He'd accepted that he felt something for Renee but he wasn't about to sort out what, exactly. He loved her spirit, company and from the moment they met, had done just about anything to help and protect her. Offering her a place to stay outweighed the apprehension.

"That's sweet but I really could just, um... go to the E-Z sleep for a few nights."

Barrett cocked a brow. He'd had the misfortune of staying in that dump once or twice.

"Renee. I'd rather you drive 45 minutes to a decent hotel than sleep in that sinkhole of a place. I'm not forcin' you, just offerin'."

Silence.

"Are you sure I wouldn't bother you?"

"Have you ever?"

Her sheepish smile tugged at his heart and he grinned at her. "Go pack. I'll be waitin' outside." He went for the main entrance and realized something.

There it was again. The same little flutter he remembered feeling from his very first girlfriend but it'd been years since that happened. Fifteen, to be exact.

He got into the driver's seat and chuckled, tossed his head back at the memory of Jessica. Man, did he fall hard. It was the first and last time he was a textbook "romantic" -- flowers, cute little cards slipped into her locker in between classes expressing his fondness for her, promise rings. When they graduated and they broke up, it damn near tore him in two but he didn't realize it was a blessing in disguise. He'd grown into his looks. All he had to do was smile and girls were on him like a moth to a flame.

From his second relationship all the way to Sarah, romance never played a part. He was good in bed and "gifted," as they put it. Without the little twinge pulling at his heart, he'd chosen all of his girlfriends by their physical beauty. Only did he shoot for a woman with a brain when he'd gotten older.

When Renee came out with her bags in hand, it hit him. He swallowed hard and denied it, drowned it out. Passed it off on the messy breakup with Sarah and Renee trying to be there for him, professionally and otherwise. She was and would always be just a good friend. ONLY a good friend, he stressed in his head.

She slid into the passenger's seat and put her belongings in the back. "Ready?"

He stared into her brown eyes and swallowed before shifting the car into drive. "Only when you are."

*

Renee laid on the Victorian-style bed and stared at the ceiling.

Barrett had shown her around again, emphasized all of the important rooms -- all three bathrooms, rooms that were safe to go in, rooms that were empty and some that were best left alone. She had gone from feeling like herself to Belle from Beauty and the Beast. A bubbling in her stomach hadn't settled since she stepped foot in the house and she was desperate for it to go away. She had come to terms with her attraction to Barrett long ago but let's face it -- there was no way in hell she'd stay at the E-Z sleep again. The only reason she tossed out the suggestion? She knew he'd insist.

The implication that she would be a bother, however, was genuine. Her room was fully furnished with an armoire, dresser, lamps and a flat-screen wall TV; better than her room at the Turquoise. With her books, journal and the writing she'd been doing with new laptop, she'd have plenty of things to kill the time with after work. Renee reached for one of her books and heard a soft tapping at the door.




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 03



"Come in."

Barrett poked his head in slowly. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "It's beautiful. Thanks."

"I'm glad you like it. Mind if I bug you for a bit?"

"Nope." She moved some of her clutter from the bed. "What's up?"

"You know you're always welcome to come hang out with me. I know we work together and it might be overkill to see me so much but I don't mind. Just don't want you to stay cooped up in this room the whole time."

"I don't want to be in your hair," she insisted.

"Nah." he chuckled. He lied flat on his back, his head touching her folded lap and took her hand in his, her palm brushing against his mane. "I kinda like it."

Renee rolled her eyes and smirked, stroked it lightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

For a while they sat there together on the bed and listened to the crickets chirping, not talking to each other. Renee found herself slowly running her fingers between his silky, jet-black locks while he closed his eyes. For once, she didn't think about it or obsess. It just felt... good. No, better than good. It felt right.

"Remember the night of my party?" Barrett mumbled, relaxed.

"Yeah?" Renee felt her heart race a little.

"You were gonna tell me what brought you to Quentin. I'd love to hear it now if you want to say."

Renee took a moment to gather her thoughts and exhaled. She twirled her fingers around his hair and started.

"I was living with and engaged to someone I dated since my sophomore year of college. Terrell." Her lips trembled for a few moments at the sound of his name but she forced herself to go on. "We had this, this beautiful condo in Downtown Detroit. I decorated it myself," she said with a bittersweet smile. "Right around the time we started planning our wedding, he enrolled in graduate school and went to London to study abroad for a year. I missed him every day he was gone." Her voice wavered and her eyes stung with tears.

Barrett noticed and sat up, moved next to her.

"You don't have to finish."

"No," she nodded, dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her hands. "It's fine. I um.... I was ecstatic when he came back. I don't think I had ever been so happy to see him like I was that day. And then things just when downhill from there. For an entire year, he... he..."

This time she had to let go. The second she started sobbing Barrett pulled her to his chest and held her tight. Her tears stained his dark blue shirt but Renee couldn't stop. She tried to explain further but he hushed her.

"Shhh," he soothed, rubbed her shoulder. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against the side of her temple. "It's alright. You're alright." He cradled the back of her head with his hand. When she calmed down, her cheeks wet with tears, she grabbed tissues from the side table and wiped them away. She looked down and saw light brown color that stained the paper.

She'd taken all her makeup off. Right in front of him.

"Oh God." She covered her face with both hands. "Can you leave for a second? I need to freshen up."

"No you don't," he insisted. "It's just me."

"Yes, I do. Just... just leave. Please."

"Renee."

Barrett pried at her hands and made quick work of peeling them away from her face. A quiet breath escaped him and she could feel his thumb tracing over the prominent scarring on her cheeks.

"Fuck."

She jerked away from him. "Are you satisfied?" she said angrily. "You get to see how hideous I am without the makeup. Please leave," she repeated.

"Hideous?" Barrett's blue-green eyes studied her. "Are you nuts?"

"Please," she pleaded, looking at the floor.

Without another word, he closed the gap between them, moved close to her and put an arm around her waist. He brushed the curly tendrils from her face and rested his hand beneath her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. His thumb caressed the scars once more and he said with passion:

"If you think a couple scars make you hideous you're sadly mistaken. Renee, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and you don't even fuckin' try. Do you know the lengths I have seen women go to look beautiful? Hours in the bathroom. Ridiculous amounts of money spent on expensive clothes. And here you are," he chuckled and shook his head, "in a pair of joggin' pants and a t-shirt and still beautiful as hell."

Renee's chest rose and fell at his words, her breath escaping in jagged spurts. The more he spoke, the closer he leaned into her.

"Even scars can't take away from such lovely brown skin," he swallowed, his breath hot on her skin. "And listen to me when I tell you that you just being you makes you the most gorgeous woman on Earth to me. How you look is just icin' on one hell of a cake," he rasped, the tip of his nose rubbing against hers, lips inches apart.

"Barrett," she breathed. "I..."

For a brief moment, his lips rubbed against hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation but opened them when she felt his mouth press against the side of her forehead.

"I need to get some sleep. If you uh... if you want me for anything just remember I'm in the room next to you on the left. Night."

She stood in the middle of the room, mouth agape. Her entire body was on fire for him. She longed to feel them embrace like she had been fantasizing over for weeks now, just too scared to admit it to herself. Raw with emotion and lust and he'd left her by herself. She crawled into bed and spent many hours awake trying to make sense of things.

The next afternoon, Renee stared down at him from the hallway window. He was outside chucking bales of hay with an urgency she'd never seen before.

He avoided her all day long except to ask her if she was hungry. He wouldn't look her in the eyes and acted as if he didn't want to be in the same room with her. It wasn't like she didn't know why but it left her unsettled. If she was going to stay with him for two weeks they needed to at least comfortable in each other's presence. She slid a jacket over her arms and walked downstairs and outside. If he wasn't going to break the ice, she would.

Barrett saw her coming but kept tossing the hay bales.

"Hey," she said.

"Need somethin'?"

Renee's stomach twisted in knots. "Need some help?"

"You help me Monday through Friday from 8 to 6 Renee. Thanks but I can handle it. I'll be inside in a little while if you need somethin'."

He said nothing else as she stood across from him, sweat dripping from his temples, his thick bicep and forearm muscles bulging, a focused and slightly angry look on his face. She wasn't used to him being so...curt. Direct. It was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She had made him uncomfortable.

She turned away from him and walked back to the house, blinking back tears.

"Renee... fuck."

She didn't stop. Walking to the upstairs window ledge, she looked out of the glass once more. He had gone back to moving the hay bales.

Flustered and not paying attention to her actions, Renee opened the door to the wrong bedroom. Barrett's. She thought about turning around and leaving -- it would have been the smart thing to do -- but instead she walked forward and picked up one of his shirts. His scent lingered on the fabric and she put it against her cheek, closing her eyes. No words could accurately describe just how much she truly wanted him. Her softest place tingled from the combination of her thoughts and his shirt but soon progressed into throbbing.

She left the room with his shirt in hand, locked the door behind her and undressed, only to put the unbutton shirt on. Her bare skin rubbed against the cloth that been against him and it drove her insane. Months had gone by since she allowed herself physical release but the streak was so close to being broken. She collapsed on the bed, the valley of her heavy breasts exposed. Her hand trailed further down, over the softness of her stomach and settling just below her unshaved mound. Another thing she'd denied herself since she had been abstinent.

Her fingers plied over her slit and the tips of her fingers were damp with her wetness. She probed further and gasped. Never had she been this aroused, not even with Terrell. One slender finger found its way to her entrance and she mewed with pleasure as it made its way inside.

"Barrett," she called out in a whisper.

Her mind raced with thoughts of him and she picked up speed. Her moans elevated with the security of knowing the door was locked and he was outside. Another finger now, both pressed knuckle deep as she re-discovered her body. Her eyes shut tight and she gripped the sheets in her free hand, the cloth shirt rubbing over her chocolate, eraser-thick nipples. Her whimper drowned out the environment's sounds around her, including the squeaking hinges of the door opening.

"Renee, I was..."

Renee jolted upright and looked at him in bewilderment. Her naked breasts went up and down with each breath and she pulled her glistening fingers from her sex. The single most embarrassing moment of her life had happened right before her very eyes. Barrett stood with his mouth open, eyes draping over her body. And then the strangest thing happened. His eyes glazed over and he looked to be in the same trance-like state he slipped into when he fought Pete. But this was different. Not anger but...hunger.

"Bar..."

He walked over to her silently and laid next to her on the bed. He brushed her curly brown hair away from her neck and she could have melted when he kissed it with such tenderness that it made her cry out in pleasure. He puckered up her neck, up the side of her jaw and stopped at her ear. He flicked his tongue against her earlobe and tugged it with his teeth.

"Keep goin'."

Renee gasped and closed her eyes. Her hand shot back to her mound like it was magnetized and she picked up where she left off, slamming both fingers in down to the knuckle.

She screamed his name and he groaned in response, turned her head with a soft roughness and kissed her deeply. Her walls contracted around her fingers and she reached out for his palm with her free hand, which he found instantly. He squeezed it affectionately and continued, his voice sending infinite shivers through her as she reached her peak.

"You can't imagine how many nights I spent thinkin' about this, about you," he rasped, his tongue trailing across her neck. "It's why I got so angry yesterday. You have no idea not just how beautiful you are but how goddamn hard you make me. How much I care about you."

Her eyes, still heavy with lust and satisfaction, opened and gazed into his. "I... I didn't know."

"You know now. I don't know if that's such a good thing," he confessed. "I'm not the best when it comes to relationships Renee. I'm not sure you're ready for one. Hell, I'm not sure I'm ready for one. A two-week span from one to another is a record, even for me."

With her hormones stabilized now she had to admit he had a point, at least about being ready for a relationship. God knows if she was it would be him, she didn't have to question that. But there were still some loose ends to tie up: with herself and with Terrell. She didn't want to move on until both were dealt with and she had no idea how long it would take for either of those to happen.

Her look of confusion made him laugh.

"Don't think about it right now," he urged. "Just enjoy and... know that I'm willin' to wait as long as you need. When you're ready I'll be downstairs cookin' dinner. Never been so fuckin' hungry in my life." He reached between her legs and grabbed her hand by the wrist, stared incredulously at her soaked fingers.

"Can I?"

Before she could answer his tongue lashed out against them and he devoured her fingers in his mouth with an animalistic need that turned her on all over again. One last kiss on her forehead was the last act of affection before he left the room. The euphoria swept her away and led to the best sleep she had in ages.

*

Barrett cringed when the faucet handle squeaked obnoxiously loud. He whipped his head to the bathroom door, listening for movement. It was six a.m. and Renee was still sleeping peacefully across the hall. He didn't want to wake her before she was ready to get up. 

A stream of steamy hot water immersed from the shower head and pit-pattered against the tub's porcelain floor. He yanked his t-shirt over his head, slid down his boxers and tossed both in the nearby clothes hamper. He stepped one foot at a time into the shower and groaned in approval at the hot water pulsing against his skin. 

Last night. 

He had to remind himself that it wasn't a figment of his imagination. The night before, it took all the strength he could muster to not give Renee what she thought she wanted. That desperate look of need in her eyes just about drove him off the deep end, but he knew it wasn't what she needed. What Renee needed was compassion and understanding, not a night of wild, ambiguous sex

He leaned his head back and rubbed the bar of soap in his hand across his olive skin. While his mind remained steadfast in his thoughts, his body betrayed him. And why wouldn't it? It was almost impossible not to think about it. He felt a stirring down below and leaned forward, letting the water flow freely against his hair. His hand barely enclosed around his thick member and he sighed, letting the visual manifest in his mind for the hundredth time. 

The thought of her exposed, radiant brown skin alone made his hand travel slowly from head to base. Her thick thighs spread open, legs parted and stretched at both ends of the bed. Her hand buried deep inside of her, mound covered in an unruly mass of curls. Soft cups peaking from underneath her shirt. His shirt. 

The sound of hand against flesh echoed in the bathroom when he sped up still surprised at his bold decision to lie down next to her. Truth be told, no other choice had occurred to him. He wanted to be there with her, nibble and peck her from behind and spur her own to a much-deserved climax. As much as he wanted to turn her soft whimpers into full-fledged screams, it wasn't about him. He was more than willing to deny himself pleasure for her. 

He tensed up and panted hard, water dripping from the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't last much longer. 

What pushed him over the edge wasn't the thought of her screaming his name or writhing around next to him. 

It was the taste of her. 

From the first lap of his tongue, her taste, her scent was insatiable. Getting head was all well and fine but Barrett enjoyed yanking a pair of soft, rounded hips to the edge of the bed and feasting until he was satisfied. It was something he'd done sparingly with significant others; Sarah never wanted him to and most of the girls he was with were too occupied with his cock to want oral pleasure. If there was anyone he wanted on the receiving end of his tongue for hours, it was Renee. 

He gasped, leaned against the shower wall and froze as he came, his seed spurting from his head and over his clenched fist. 

He finished up, wrapped a towel around his waist and cautiously opened the bathroom door. He saw Renee's sheets and blanket bunched in the middle of the bed but no Renee. Damn. He tried so hard not to wake her up. He turned the corner but stopped when he heard a soft voice call behind him. 

"Barrett." 

He faced the other way. Renee was still wearing his shirt, only this time it was buttoned. Her hair was disheveled and she had on no makeup but she looked comfortable, content. 

"Mornin'. How'd you sleep?" A small pool of water gathered at his feet. He was still soaking wet from the shower. 

"Best I've had in a while." 

They stared at each other with the same glimmer of desire as yesterday. Barrett felt his cock stiffen all over again, awkwardly holding the towel around his waist with a hand at his lower back. He tried his best to divert attention from it by excusing himself. 

"Well I gotta... get dressed. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Renee stepped forward and looked up at him, nibbled at her lower lip. She rested her head against his wet chest and slipped an arm around his waist, hugging him. 

"Thank you." 

Barrett nervously reciprocated, rested his arm around her shoulder and stroked her hair. "Aw, I don't need you to..." 

"I mean it." Renee stepped back to look him in the eyes. "For everything. For giving me a place to stay, for hiring me. For... caring about me," she said bashfully. 

Barrett swallowed and smiled. "I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat," he declared. 

"I know." She closed the gap between them and stretched her arm up, put her hand on the back of his neck. "I know you would." 

"Renee," he cautioned. 

"Kiss me." 

In a matter of seconds, Barrett lowered his mouth on her and pinned her to the wall. He nudged his leg against her thighs and she opened them willingly. His erection pressed against her cotton panties through his towel as his tongue parted her lips, exploring her. He parted from her only to kiss the hollow of her neck and ripped open his shirt, causing the buttons to scatter all over the floor. 

Renee cried out when his soft lips covered her nipples, suckling and nibbling on them momentarily before continuing on his journey, down her stomach and stopping just shy of her pussy. He locked eyes with her for a moment and lifted one of her legs, put it over his shoulder. He kissed the side of her calf, up her thigh and against her panties. He'd slipped his hands in the waistband of her underwear, about to pull them down when he realized he wasn't keeping his word. 

Renee's fingers were tangled in his hair. "What's wrong?" 

"This. Honey, I... I want you but I think you should think about things. You were uncertain yesterday for a reason. You got some things to sort out and I don't wanna distract you." 

"But... I..." she stuttered. 

"Tell you what." He kissed her on the hand. "Let's not rush into things, alright? I can't believe I'm doin' this," he laughed. "Will you go out on a date with me tonight? No funny business, just... me gettin' to know you. " 

"Of course," she said with a smile. 

They embraced in a hug before parting ways and Barrett's mind ran rampant with thoughts. Once his libido was under control, he got dressed and pondered where they would go. He didn't want to take her to some dive bar or a pretentious restaurant an hour away. He wanted her all to himself but what could he do? 

An idea slowly crept into his thoughts and while part of him thought it was the lamest idea in the world, the old, romantic side of him that had been resurrected thought Renee would enjoy it. It would take a lot of work and keeping her away from the house most of the day but with help, it was possible. He took his cell phone from the dresser, hit speed dial and waited for the other party to pick up. 

"Hello?"

"Hey darlin'. I need your help with somethin' really important."

*

Renee stumbled clumsily, her hands outstretched in front of her. 

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked for the third time. Surprises excited her and made her anxious, especially when no one would tell her a thing. Her sundress rustled in the night breeze and she felt free and comfortable with braided hair and an au natural face. Barrett insisted that she didn't wear makeup and she agreed. Both of his hands were covering her eyes and he guided her with each step to this mystery location. 

"You are an impatient little thing," he said in her ear. "We're almost there." 

A few more moments of blind walking ended when Barrett grabbed her by the waist and stopped her. 

"Alright. Open your eyes now." 

Renee's mouth opened in surprise as she scanned the surrounding area. A small wooded area with a long, winding path was lit with tea candles and led to a brightly lit clearing. A picnic basket, a bottle of wine and two glasses sat on top of a blue blanket and fireflies illuminated the area even more. It was so beautiful that it didn't even look real. 




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 03



She turned around and looked at Barrett, completely caught off-guard. "Wow," she whispered. 

"Like it?" 

"Of course, I love it," she nodded. "You didn't have to do all this." 

He took her by the hand and led her to the picnic area. "I didn't," he chuckled. "Most of it was Eden." He retrieved a corkscrew from the basket and opened the bottle of red wine, poured it into both of their glasses. 

Renee took in her surroundings and felt her heart swell. She couldn't believe he'd gone through so much trouble just for one little date. 

"This little area was my safe haven as a kid," he explained, rested an arm on his bent knee. "Whenever I was pissed or confused -- pretty much all the time," he smiled, "I'd come here and try to make some sense of things."

"What were you like?" Renee sipped from the wine glass. 

Barrett tucked his hair behind his ear and shrugged. "An arrogant little fucker. Got in trouble a lot. Smart and stupid at the same time, as my Ma would say," he grinned. "Spent half of my time angry at the world for no reason and the other half thinkin' I was in love with my girlfriend at the time. I got away with a lot," he sighed. "Kinda took advantage of Ma workin' all the time. Brandi just had Eden. There was a lot goin' on." Barrett got lost in memory lane, stared without blinking as he spoke. 

"Was your father around?" 

Renee could tell she hit a sore spot when Barrett's face contorted in anger. 

"Sorry... I didn't—" 

"When I was younger, yeah," he cut her off. "From birth 'till around eight." He took a swig of wine and tilted the glass in his hand, watched the liquid swirl around. "He was only a father and husband by name. Motherfucker ruined our lives." He looked at Renee and sighed. "He was abusive and... Ma was on the receivin' end. She got tired after a while, left Arizona for Texas empty-handed with two brats and built her life from the ground up in Quentin. Thank God for Thelma and the rest." 

It was starting to make sense to Renee. Why he was so willing to help her even though he'd never met her a day in his life before. "Sounds familiar," she said. 

Barrett frowned and reached forward to hold her palm, rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. "Sorry 'bout that. Not really appropriate date conversation, huh?" 

Renee scooted closer to him and caressed his hair. They listened to the acoustics around them; chirping crickets, the faint sounds of the animals on the farm and the soft crackling of the candles burning. 

"My parents died when I was ten," she said. "Car accident. Stayed with a family friend until I graduated from high school. Went to college and... met Terrell. I'm an only child and my parents weren't close to their sisters and brothers so after they passed I never really felt like I had a family." She looked at Barrett and smiled. "You're blessed to have so many people around you that love you -- Eden, Wesley, Thelma, your sister. I wish I could say I knew what it's like." 

Barrett nuzzled against Renee's cheek. "You will," he said with certainty, his lips grazing against her skin. Their lips met and Barrett hovered over her as she went backwards into the grass, hands trailing down his back. He dotted kisses on her cheek and neck, down her shoulder and arm to her hand. He pulled her up and against his chest. "You're makin' it hard for me to be a gentleman," he smiled. 

"I never said you had to be," Renee declared. 

"Don't tempt me," he said, nipped at her ear. "One step at a time." 

Renee decided her next words carefully. It was complete and utter torture this morning when he found his way between her legs and walked away but he was right. Her body may have been primed and ready for making love but she wasn't. But there was more to intimacy than just intercourse. 

"We don't have to go straight for the home run." Renee slid her hand against his exposed arm. "I can't say I know all the steps but I'd like you to show me." 

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, love." 

Butterflies flared in her at his term of endearment. "I do. "Take your time. One step at a time, right?" 

Barrett licked his lips and cocked a brow. "Only if it'll make you happy. Well," he sighed. "Of course, there's first base." 

"Which is?" Renee teased. 

Barrett pecked at her lips lightly; once, twice, three times. Each kiss harder and deeper than the previous one. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulled on it gently then let it go. Their tongues met and struggled for control in a passionate French kiss. 

"That," he puffed when he pulled away. "That's first base." 

"Show me second." 

"Renee," he hesitated. 

"Please." 

He positioned himself on top of her and trailed his tongue along her collarbone. He nibbled on her soft skin, wiggled his thumbs underneath her dress straps and pulled them down, revealed her full breasts. His fingers pinched, caressed and tweaked her sensitive nipples. Each pluck heightened her arousal. He grabbed hold of both cups and massaged them under his hands, squeezed them lovingly and peppered kisses around her dark areolae. 

"I think we should stop...."

"Just one more. One more, I promise." 

He bunched the end of her sundress in his hand and pulled it above her waist. He picked up where he left off earlier; his thumbs slid under the band of her panties and pulled them down to her ankles, leaving them there. He spread her legs and cursed under his breath when he saw her wetness. He locked eyes with her and she moaned as his fingertips travelled across her slit, rubbing against her labia and coating her swollen clit with her juices. 

"Oh god," she gasped.

"I'm only doin' this because you want me to, Renee." His digit slowly worked his way into her. "At this point I'd do just about anything to make you happy. Even if it's drivin' me up a fuckin' wall." He grunted and palmed his erection pressed against his jeans with his free hand. He sped up and gauged her reaction, took her whimpers as a sign of approval. "Take as long as you need. I'm not goin' anywhere. I won't stop until you tell me to." 

"Barrett," she whined. "I need you." 

"I'm here." 

Their fingers laced together and she yelled when he pressed another finger in her. 

"Harder," she demanded. 

The sound of his fingers sliding into her pussy almost drowned out her moans. He was thrusting with such force that her breasts jiggled. She scratched lightly at his arm and arched her back, warned him of her impending orgasm. When she came her hips bucked against his hand wildly and he kept going, only stopping when she settled down. He held her close and she was so comfortable that she ended up falling asleep. 

~

When she came to, she was in her bed. Her sundress and panties were on the floor. She pulled the blanket back and saw that she was wearing one of Barrett's shirts and another pair of panties. He'd carried her all the way to the house and dressed her. 

She ambled out of bed and headed for the hallway. She walked next door, knocked briefly and then opened. 

Barrett looked up at her. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses and had a photo album on his lap. 

"Sorry for falling asleep," she apologized. "I just..." 

He reached out his hand to her. "Come here." 

She took his hand and he pulled her close. He tapped at one of the pictures in the album. 

"That was my Ma." The blonde haired, blue eyed woman in the photo grinned from ear to ear. "About a year before she passed." 

"She was beautiful," Renee said. "Eden looks just like her." 

"Yeah," he smiled. "She does. I miss her everyday Renee," he sighed. "All I have left are these and memories." He turned the page and snorted at a photo of himself and his mother. He was holding up some sort of trophy. "Won the fifth grade spellin' bee. She was so proud of me, I'd felt like I'd done somethin' incredible. At least, she thought it was." 

With each photo Barrett showed her, she felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach. 

She didn't own a single photo of her parents, grandparents or the rest of her family. All of her academic awards, trophies and knick-knacks were back in Detroit. 

"I have to go back," she said aloud. 

Barrett looked at her. "What?" 

"To Detroit. I have to go and get my things. My pictures, everything. I left it with him. I hope it's okay if I miss work for a couple days." She slid towards the edge of the bed but he grabbed her wrist. 

"Take all the time you need. But you're not going by yourself." 

"I'll be fine," she assured. "You can't leave too." 

"I'm not letting you go alone," he persisted. "I'll call in some favors and have things taken care of. When do you want to go?" 

"Tomorrow." 

"Then get some rest. I'll book a flight for tomorrow evenin'." He kissed her on the temple and let her go.

For the first time in her life Renee felt protected, cared for and loved.



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 04



I had been so captivated since Sharon walked into the room, that I hadn't really looked at the room itself. It was as I sat outside, sipping from the glass of erotic champagne, watching Sharon slink out of the satin negligee, then slide the chair toward me, that I noticed the missing couch. The chair ended up where the couch had been, right under the window, but facing almost directly toward it. It was cheated off to the left side where Sharon was pulling a mirror away from the wall, angling it toward the chair.

The mirror was for her benefit, all I saw in it was a patch of wall. It was placed so she could watch herself. This neither surprised nor bothered me, so when I saw her glance at me to see my reaction, I just winked. She returned a smile, then turned to pick up something out of my sight to the right. It was a sort of large vase, wide-mouthed, with several peacock feathers in it. She set it by the chair, then moved the table with the champagne bucket and the box she had brought into the bathroom with her to the other side of the chair.

I must have looked a question to her, perhaps even opened my mouth to say something (though I can't imagine what), because she once again raised a finger to her lips, then lowered her eyes, crossed the room, and turned on some music; I'd heard her play it before, but didn't recognize it, or even the artist for sure--perhaps Johnny Hodges, sultry saxophone, sparse strings--it was the perfect soundtrack to her. She closed her eyes for a second, swaying gently to the opening strains, then half-danced her way back across the room. Finally, she poured us both more champagne and settled into the chair.

What a picture! It's a zoom-in from a distance: a small house, a window at the back surrounded by lilac bushes, concealing one recently-confirmed voyeur, naked from the waist down (I had taken the opportunity to get more comfortable), sitting on a low stool with a makeshift end table, sipping champagne through an open window with a stunning brunette, certain exhibitionist, probable narcissist, cascades of hair falling about breasts marginally contained by the barest pretense of a bra, one leg on the cushion of the chair, knee up, heel pulled in under her, the other leg splayed out languidly against the other arm of the chair, stretching her crotchless panties open to reveal shaved lips, parted and wet. In front of her is an ornate, wood-framed mirror, to her left, a vase full of peacock feathers.

I was suddenly caught, completely unexpectedly, by the humor of the situation, and laughed out loud: a big, happy laugh soaked with total disbelief at the luck of it all. My laughter interrupted her reverie for just a moment, then brought a warm, satisfied smile to her lips as she closed her eyes and lowered a hand to her lap. I did the same, without closing my eyes, of course.

With the chair where it was, I was about three feet from that luscious pussy, and Sharon knew it. She teased me with it, stroking it and arching up towards me, then pulling the lips back, licking a finger and rubbing it gently over her clit, up and down, up and down. She dipped it into her, bringing it out glistening, and rubbed some more, a little faster now, then slower as her coming orgasm approached a bit too quickly. Reaching out, she pulled a peacock feather from the vase and slowly drew the full length of it up her slit, over her clit, again and again. Each time was a little slower, her whole body a shudder waiting to happen. Finally, she took the feather by the tip and held it out though the window to me, lifting a foot to rest on the window sill as I took it.

I held it to my nose, savoring the exquisite smell of her sex. I ran it over my tongue, then reached out with it and stroked it up her clitoris. She had kept her eyes closed, not wanting to spoil the moment, so when the feather hit her clit she started, then shook with what I took to be a small orgasm. I stroked it ever so slowly, up and down, while she writhed in the chair under its caress. I saw her eyes open slightly, her head turn just enough to watch in the mirror as the feather slid between her lips, a smile slowly growing on her lips.

This was torture. It was maddening, frustrating beyond belief. It was also the most incredibly erotic thing I had ever experienced. It was like I had been having orgasm after orgasm for weeks, and we were still on foreplay. It was uncharted territory. I had no idea where it would go, or how, or how I would react to it. I could only flow with it.

I had been on the edge of an orgasm for a while, slowly stroking myself to the same rhythm I was using on her. She hadn't been bothering to hold off, moaning and shuddering almost continuously. She had managed to slip a hand around behind her, and had been massaging her anus, first rubbing the dripping juices from her pussy down into it, then exploring it gently with a finger as I stroked her with the feather. She reached up into the box with her free hand and pulled something out. It was wrapped in her hand, so I couldn't see what it was at first, not until she slowly began inserting the beads up her ass. They were about a half inch around, and she slowly pushed them up into her with a finger, moaning as each entered. Captivated, I had stopped stroking, both her and me. When she had inserted the last one, she held the remaining string out to me, about two feet of it, looking at me as if to see if I knew what to do with it.

I grinned and took the string, taking the opportunity to stroke a finger along her hand while I was at it. She drew her hand back quickly, then laid her head back again, her fingers returning to her clit. She had taken the feather when she gave me the string, recognizing that I would want a hand free, and now she was brushing it lightly over her nipples as she worked on her clit. She was so aroused that it seemed like she was having continuous orgasms, but her fingers were flying faster and faster. As she began a low, gutteral groan, I sensed the timing was right, and slowly, ever so slowly, began to pull out the beads.

Her orgasm was stupendous. She was convulsed by it, thrashing and screaming, shaking her head back and forth. As the last bead came out, she shook three or four times, then lay there panting. It was so completely erotic that I never even thought about cumming myself.

Just then, I felt a feather stroking up my inner thigh, over my balls and up the length of my shaft. I hadn't even noticed her picking it up, but it tipped me--no, heaved me--over the edge, one of those thunderous orgasms that come along only occasionally, the kind you remember for life. I opened my eyes to see her leaning back in the chair, looking totally spent, feather in hand with a huge, self-satisfied smile on her face.





Eye of the Beholder Ch. 04



As she gazed out of the suite's balcony door and peered into the starless night sky, Renee felt like a tortured prisoner within her own mind. An amalgamation of feelings, events and thoughts swirled around like a destructive tornado in her head, destroying any semblance of peace or calmness within her. 

It was almost midnight when she slipped out of bed, never having slept a single moment after trying for hours. The heaviness in her chest was far too oppressive to even consider resting. She inhaled, closed her heavy eyelids, released a fragile breath and tried to reason with herself. Something had to give. 

She couldn't keep this up if she was going to face her past tomorrow. Barrett hadn't come all this way with her just for her to have a panic attack and flake.

Among the contents of her luggage were several self-help books that she had gone over a million times. Before Barrett, it was the only thing that kept her level headed and able to rebound from moments like these. 

Quietly she maneuvered her way around the room, pitch-black save for the faint beam of moonlight that ran across the carpet, and found her bag. 

Her fingertips clasped the latches but before she opened it, she glanced over her shoulder. Barrett was still sleeping peacefully with his loud, opened-mouth snore that she found endearing.

She sorted through the half-dozen books and other items before retrieving a thick, hard-cover book with the words 1 Day at a Time on the front in bold black letters. 

She left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The living room area had a small sofa and loveseat, television and desk/chair. She turned the end table light on, curled up on the edge of the sofa and cracked the book open to a pre-marked chapter. It was Renee's go-to for so long that the once-smooth pages were now crumpled and folded; thank God she was still able to read it. 

Word for word she read, followed the suggestions and took her time thinking about it until she condensed her emotions down to four: 

Apprehension, fear, confusion and anger. 

The next step was to think about why exactly she felt that way.

Both apprehension and fear had consumed her for more than a year, only dissipating once she became comfortable in Quentin. But the moment she and Barrett landed at Detroit International Airport, the terrible twosome came back with a vengeance. 

The truth was she had no idea what she was stepping back into -- and because of that, she was second-guessing herself about going through with it. The whole reason she left six months ago after a year of trying to salvage a hopeless situation stemmed from her fear of Terrell's unpredictability. Lord knows how bad things had gotten since she left.

Recounting the events that made up the 26 years of her life had left her either confused or furious. It's often said that you're never given more than you can handle but apparently that didn't apply to Renee. 

The loss of her parents at ten had been a crushing blow to the young girl's perception of the world as she knew it. It took her years to pacify herself into believing that she could still carry on without them -- hell, most days, the only reason she got dressed and out of bed was the belief that somehow, someway, her parents could see their baby girl. 

Even if they weren't here in the flesh to guide her through her younger years and beyond, she still wanted to make them proud. She thought she'd done that by finishing high school and being accepted into a prominent college.

She thought she'd done that by learning to let go of past ills. She thought she'd done that when she met Terrell, fell head over heels in love and almost became his wife. All she ever did was try to be a good person, follow a morally straight and narrow path. 

It angered her to know that not only had she lost her parents but she'd fallen victim to a man she thought could do no harm to her. Was it just the way things were supposed to go? That didn't settle well within her heart. She couldn't understand purposely being exposed to an unbearable amount of heartache and pain for seemingly no reason. 

If she had one, she'd at least try to learn to get over it like everything else. Why? Why had she suffered so much; lost her family, only man she ever loved and life as she knew it? What was the purpose?

Though the book helped her sort her thoughts, it did little to make her feel better. Renee pulled her legs to her chest, rested her head against her knees and sobbed quietly, her wet tears streaking down her dry brown skin. 

She rocked back and forth, tried to find some kind of solace and comfort. Nothing worked. The sound of her muffled tears stopped when she heard the bedroom door open quietly and looked up.

Barrett, disheveled and sleepy, yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He smiled at her for a moment but when his eyes focused, it turned into a worried frown. He walked over to the couch, took a seat next to her and stroked her clothed back lovingly to soothe her.

"Shhh," he said. "It's alright. It's gonna be alright." He kissed her damp cheek tenderly and wiped the moisture away.

When she calmed down enough to stop crying, her gaze lifted and she looked at him with remorse. "Did I wake you?" she croaked. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head dismissively and pressed his lips against her forehead. 

"Leaned over and noticed you weren't there. I could feel you tossin' and turnin' but I didn't know you got up. And listen, darlin'. I don't care if it's 3 a.m. and I haven't gotten a second of sleep. If you need me, let me know. Renee." 

She looked away from him but he took hold of her chin and penetrated her with those beautiful blue-green irises. 

"If you need me, I'm here for you. Remember that."

She nodded and sighed, gave a sad smile. "I will."

He glanced at the alarm clock on the desk then looked her over. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"

Renee shook her head.

"You need to get outta these clothes, take a hot bubble bath and drink some tea," he insisted. "You haven't relaxed since last night. I'll go run it for you and see if I can't find some tea around here to make." 

He kissed her forehead and disappeared into the adjacent bathroom.

That sudden rush of heat and comfort passed through her as she watched him leave. Even with the uncertainty she felt from their blossoming bouquet of romance, she believed him when he said that no matter what, he would be there for her. And while she didn't know to what extent Barrett cared for her, the fact that he did at all meant more than he would ever know.

Barrett leaned against the doorframe and smiled, pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Ready for you."

Renee looked him over from head to toe. His black tresses were tousled from a serious case of bed head. He would have been in the nude were it not for the pair of boxers he wore, but his tanned skin was still exposed for her to enjoy. He ran his tongue across his full, pink lips absent-mindedly and sent her hormones into a pleasure-induced tizzy. She felt like a nutcase. Who goes from crying one second to drooling over a man the next?

He must have noticed her change of mood. His bashful smirk almost made her melt and he walked a few steps in front of her, held out his hand. 

"C'mon."

He helped her stand to her feet and they walked hand in hand to the bathroom. Barrett had prepared a beautiful bubble bath and used the light dimmer to create a tranquil atmosphere. When he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm.

"One more thing?"

He looked into her eyes with concern. "What do you need?"

It was probably ill-timed, and she doubted he would feel the same after he'd walked in on her practically having a breakdown. But lately timing hadn't been one of Renee's strong suits. It was more like going with the flow of her feelings. Right now, she felt very close and attracted to him. She wanted his affection in every way.

"I..." she looked down at her feet and blushed. "I want you to undress me."

Barrett swallowed at her suggestion and the trepidation in his expression was clear. Neither one of them had time to process their feelings on what took place the other night during their date; after she announced she was coming back to Detroit, Barrett was too distracted with arrangements and Renee was too anxious thinking about all the what-ifs that might take place. 

With the exception of a kiss on the cheek here or there, they hadn't been affectionate with each other since.

Barrett's lingering silence was starting to make her regret asking at all. She let go of him and apologized.

He held her shoulder and pressed his finger against the softness of her lips. He studied her, eyes sweeping over her covered body.

Slowly, almost methodically, he began taking off one article of clothing after another. His digits bunched the hem of her plain black t-shirt and carefully lifted it over her head. When he saw that she was braless, he groaned quietly under his breath. For a moment, his hands hovered over her heavy breasts, tempted to touch. He looked into her eye and swallowed, smiled with a hint of embarrassment before continuing.

Renee parted her legs when he knelt in front of her and gently pulled her shorts over her prominent, round hips, down her caramel thighs and toned legs. When they rested at her ankles, she put a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of them.

Where he exhibited self-control before, he could no longer when he reached up and rested his palms on her calves, sliding up to her hamstrings and thighs. His hands palmed and cupped her voluptuous backside, squeezing lightly. He slipped his fingers in the waistband of her white cotton panties and his breath caught in his throat when they were around her ankles. 

Their breathing was sporadic and jagged; that current of sexual electricity had awakened in them all over again.

"Call from: Brandi."

The loud announcement of an incoming call made them regain cognizance. Barrett lifted up and looked at Renee with a pained expression. She knew what it meant. He didn't want to leave and she didn't want him to either, but it had to happen.

He kissed her on the lips with such tenderness that her knees weakened. "Take your time and relax." He took the pile of her clothes from the floor, laid them over his shoulder and closed the door behind him.

Frustration subsided when Renee stepped into the tub. She submerged her aching, sleep-deprived body into the warm water and closed her eyes. She got so comfortable that she had slipped in and out of consciousness a few times. 

The tub was too small and water too shallow for anything bad to happen but she didn't want to wake up in a tub full of cold water with prunes for skin, so she maneuvered her way out and put on a cotton bathrobe. 

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and cringed at the dark circles under her eyes. Just 24 hours ago, she was cheerful, revitalized and at least felt beautiful. Now she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks and felt even worse.

Barrett was slumped over in bed with his hand on his forehead. She couldn't tell if he was upset or tired.

"Everything okay?"

"That was just Brandi callin'."

"What about?"

He started but shook his head. "Nothin' you need to worry yourself with. Feel better?"

"Much better."

She laced her fingers between his and snuggled close to him. He curled his arm around her protectively. Renee thought about giving this long-winded explanation for why he found her a blubbering mess but she was certain he already knew, nor did she want to poke at the little peace and solidarity she felt at the moment. 

Whatever was going to happen tomorrow would happen, and knowing that Barrett would be right beside her eased her fears considerably. Why she hadn't remembered that during their trip, she didn't know. She wasn't used to having a support system; now that she did, she wanted to embrace it.

The soft beating of Barrett's heart, his warm breath caressing over her skin and chest rising and falling rhythmically allowed her to finally catch some sleep. The last thing she remembered was his voice, faint and sleepy, whispering in her ear:

"Goodnight, love."

~

741 Canyon Boulevard.

The gold and silver letters adorned next to the front door of her former home were familiar yet foreign to her. Nothing about the condominium had changed, on the outside at least. There wasn't much space for landscaping but the flowers she planted were still alive and well. The wind chimes she hung under the porch awning were ringing from the slight breeze in the air. Terrell's black SUV was parked in the open garage. It was just as she remembered it almost six months ago when she left.

Parked in the driveway, Renee sat in the passenger's seat of her and Barrett's rental car and shook nervously. From the moment she rose and got out of bed, she was nothing but a bundle of nerves. Of course, he had done everything he could to assure her that he would be with her every step of the way, but the nervous churning in her stomach had only gotten worse when they reached their destination.

Barrett massaged her hand and held a steady stare. "You sure you don't want me to go for you?"

"No," she said quickly, shook her head. "It's... something I have to do."

"You don't have to do it today, Renee. We've got one more day before we're leavin'."

She understood his point but what good was holding it off? It would just be another day of internal turmoil, commiserating about the impending drama that was sure to happen. If she was going to do this, it was going to be now or not at all.

A rumble of thunder and crack of lightening emerged from the smoky gray sky above. Raindrops pounded on the windshield and tapped against the windows. With all the strength she could muster, Renee flung the door open and power-walked to the front door, unprotected from the rain.

"Jesus! Renee, wait!"

She balled up her fist and pounded on the metal screen, heart beating violently in her chest. Barrett caught up to her just as the inner wooden door started to open. When she saw the person standing on the other side, she froze.

"Tia?"

The woman squinted and her eyes opened wide.

"Oh my God. Renee."

She opened the screen door, stepped outside and wrapped her arms around the soaking wet woman on her doorstep, squeezing her tight. "I've been calling you for months now. Are you okay?"

Tia was Terrell's older sister. She had seen her sparingly after Terrell came back from London. Not only had he controlled who Renee communicated with, he had also cut off all ties from his family and prevented them from coming to visit. Out of his three siblings, Renee had always been closest to Tia. She tried calling her a few times in the dead of night when she thought Terrell was sleeping but he always caught her and, well... she suffered the consequences.

Still caught off guard, Renee reciprocated the kind gesture.

"I'm fine."

They separated and Tia's gaze went over her shoulder.

"This is... Barrett."

A somewhat vague introduction considering he had orchestrated this whole trip but their status together would have to wait. "I came back to get some of my things and he's here to help."

Tia extended her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Barrett looked at Renee awkwardly, as if asking for permission. He mumbled a hello and shook Tia's hand firmly.

"It's sort of a mess in here; lots of boxes. I think I know where your stuff is, though. Why don't you guys come in?"

Renee looked around the living room. All of their -- well, his furniture, was gone. Nothing but plain brown boxes and packing supplies furnished the empty space. Was he moving? Never mind. She didn't want to know, nor did she care.

"No, I... I'm fine waiting outside."

"Renee." The ebony skinned beauty arched a brow. "It's raining outside. I'm not going to do you like that. It's going to take me a while to dig through this stuff anyway." She opened the door for Renee and stared at her sternly.

Typical Tia.

Knowing she wasn't going to win this one, Renee stepped through the door and Barrett followed, closing the door behind him.

The deeper she walked into the house, the more she noticed what used to be. Faint outlines remained from pictures that once adorned the lavender-colored walls. All of the electronics had assumingly been packed away. Living here had left her feeling hollow and empty long ago but the house now radiated a sullen hopelessness.

Tia started sorting through the unmarked boxes, but soon found herself distracted.

"Nee, girl... I'm so sorry for what happened," she sighed. "I didn't know until after you left and Terrell started coming around again. I kept calling your cell like crazy for months on end but at first you never answered and then it was disconnected."

Renee nodded. When she realized that the threatening texts and non-stop calls from Terrell wouldn't end, she changed her cell phone provider and got a Texas phone number. "It's okay. I've moved on," she partially lied.

Tia could see through the transparent façade. "If what Terrell told me he did to you is true, no you haven't. You're in a better place..." she made it a point to look at Barrett and smile, "and that's fine but it's going to take a lot longer than a year. Trust me, I know." Sure enough, Tia had told Renee about her abusive ex-husband and how the marriage, from day 1, was nothing but complete torture.

Tia sighed. "It's been a hard few months for the family. Rell came out of nowhere after being M.I.A. for a year and told us that you left him. He wouldn't say why but I got it out of him eventually. I was glad you left, though. He's never been a violent person but all it takes is the right person to get caught up in the wrong things."

Renee bristled. "Caught up how?"

"The life," she said matter-of-factly. "Remember Nate?"

Terrell's older brother who had seldom been around. "Yeah."

"I don't know what Rell told you but Nate wasn't somewhere livin' it up in a penthouse with fancy cars. He was doing a three year bid for drug trafficking. Got out about a year and a half ago just to turn around and start doin' the same shit all over again. Little did we know that he took Rell with him this time."

Renee felt like her foundation was being shaken to its core. "What are you saying?"

"Rell lied to us too about the study abroad program. We thought it was perfect timing that he was gonna be leaving when Nate was coming out. Rell always looked up to Nate for all the wrong reasons. Renee, you've met our family. Mama and Daddy, graduates of Spelman. Me and Gina graduated from Michigan State. Rell, Wayne State. Nate was always the odd one out. He never wanted to do anything productive... or legal," she said. 

"But in him doing those illegal things, he was never broke. Fast, easy money for what looked like nothing. Rell thought that was the way to go. Long story short, he was gone with Nate for a year doing God knows what. From what Nate told us before he went back to jail, they're lucky they both came back in one piece."

Renee swallowed and tried to process the information. It was all starting to make sense. All of a sudden they were both working entry-level jobs, renting a modest apartment and driving used cars when Terrell claimed that he'd gotten a 'graduation gift' from his parents -- enough to buy two brand-new cars and mortgage a condo. Renee never questioned it. Why would she? His parents were well-off and lived in one of the best suburbs in Michigan.

She exhaled, completely stunned. "What exactly did Nate tell you?"

Tia shrugged. "You get caught up in that life, you face the consequences," she said with a headshake. "They got cornered a few times by dudes who were doing the same thing they were and apparently it turned into a them versus us situation. Rell and Nate made it out. The others..." she trailed off.




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 04



Another dot connected. When he gave her those soulless stares, that trance-like gaze like there was nobody home. If the Terrell she had once known was really who he was at his core, he wouldn't have walked away from that without severe psychological trauma.

With each bit of information, Renee found herself getting angrier by the second. 

Why the hell didn't he just tell her? 

He could have filled her in and let her know. She suggested therapy anyway when she thought it was just a bad case of depression; she would have gladly gone with him under these circumstances. What he went through must have been terrible but voluntary. 

He put her through a personal hell that she never asked for and felt that she had no escape from. In other words, there was only so far her sympathy could go for him.

"Anyway, after you left, Rell had beyond a nervous breakdown. We had to put him in a psych ward for a few weeks. I guess in the back of his mind he knew he lost someone he loved and it sent him into a downward spiral. We thought he was doing well so we let him move back into the condo, but he had an episode a few weeks ago. Now Mama and Daddy want him to move back home."

"What?" Renee said, stunned. "Where is he now?"

Tia pointed to the hallway. "He's been in that bed for almost two days now. We tried to get him out but figured it was easier to work around him until the last minute."

Renee started towards the bedroom.

"Don't," Barrett whispered from behind. "Not without me."

Tia heard Barrett's comments and nodded. "I understand, but Rell is heavily sedated at this point. He's on too many medications and antidepressants to count. I... I'm not sure if it would do any good for you, Renee, but if you think it will, by all means go ahead."

Renee locked eyes with Barrett and lead him down the hallway. Her old office was wide open, well-lit and empty. The door to her bedroom was closed. She bit down on her lower lip, squeezed her eyes tight and turned the knob.

Right away, she was hit with a stale, musty odor. Her pupils adapted to the darkness enough to spot the faint outline of a body. The sound of jagged breathing left her unnerved, but she ventured deeper into the room. She cleared her throat to make her presence known but he didn't move an inch. Instead, she heard him say:

"Tia?"

Renee looked back at Barrett with slight worry in her eyes. "N...no," she faltered. "It's not Tia. It's... Renee."

This time he did move, albeit slowly. He first turned over on his back and then struggled to sit up but eventually succeeded. When his full image came into view, it disturbed Renee so much that she put her hand to her mouth.

Terrell was literally half of his old self. The tall, once-muscular man had disintegrated into a thin, sickly frame. He looked a good ten years older than he really was, and when he tried to smile, the wrinkles and lines in his face emerged even more.

"Renee?" he looked genuinely happy to see her. "You came back."

A floodgate of emotions came pouring out. She felt like crying, felt like screaming, felt like confronting him angrily. But none of those things would have been right. His sedation was evident from his partially dilated pupils; Renee considered the notion that he might not have fully realized she was there in the flesh.

"I just came back to get my things," she said nervously.

"Aren't you back to stay?" he pouted and stared at her, then tapped on the edge of the bed enthusiastically. "Come sit with me."

It didn't occur to her how far gone he was until he did that. He was beyond sedated; he was almost childlike.

Even Barrett had a slight look of pity on his face. He looked at Renee and nodded confidently.

She rested on the edge of the bed and came face-to-face with him for the first time in a long time. It was nothing like she had anticipated. The Big, Bad Wolf was no more. He'd been replaced by this frail and fragile version.

"I um..."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Renee."

Her heart broke in two when she heard him say that. A tear slid down her cheek and she shook her head. "Terrell..." She quickly realized there was nothing she could have said at that moment that he would have clearly understood. But she knew it would be the last time they ever saw each other.

He reached out to hold her hand. She reluctantly put her palm in his and it felt like she was touching skin and bones.

"Terrell," she repeated. "Tia's taking good care of you." She tried to wipe away the flowing tears, but they were coming too fast.

Tia was right -- she hadn't moved on from the situation. She hadn't even started until that moment.

"Don't cry," he soothed.

"I'll be fine," she assured. "I want you to take care of yourself and I want you to remember this." With a shaky breath, she sobbed and simply said:

"I forgive you. I know it doesn't make any sense now, but at some point you'll think about it and you'll want to know that I forgive you."

Tia walked past Barrett and knocked lightly. "I found your things, Renee."

She let go of his hand and stood up.

"Goodbye, Terrell."

He yawned and lied back down, turning over on his side. "Bye, Renee. See you later."

With Barrett carrying her belongings, they headed to the front door. Tia hugged Renee one last time; they knew it would be their last goodbye.

Heavy rain was still pummeling the downtown area when they left. Renee climbed in the passenger's seat and Barrett put the boxes in the backseat. They both buckled their seatbelts and he turned on the ignition, but took a firm hold of her hand.

"It took a very brave person to do that. Didn't expect anything less from you, though. You okay?"

For the first time ever, Renee nodded her head and actually meant what she was about to say.

"I'm okay. I'm finally ready to move on. I don't know how long it's going to take and I don't care. I'm just ready to start over... with you."

Barrett unfastened his seatbelt and leaned over, his lips covering Renee's mouth. The bond of their supple lips pressing against one another, tender kisses and caresses of her lips with his tongue was heaven-sent. He nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away when she moaned for more.

He grinned devilishly and put the car in drive. "Ready to go back to Texas?"

"Yes." She smiled and put her hand in his. "I'm ready to go back home.

***

"Mornin'."

Fresh from the shower, Barrett rubbed a towel vigorously against his wet hair and smiled at the gorgeous creature sitting in the middle of his bed. She was sleeping when he slid out, undetected, but they had become so use to each other that when one of them rose, the other didn't stay in bed for too long. He wanted her to sleep in to her heart's content; getting up every morning at 6 a.m. and barely getting eight hours of sleep justified crashing until noon on the weekends. It was barely past 9 and he felt guilty, but at least she looked well-rested.

His curiosity piqued when he saw her turning casually through a photo album, and the contents of the unopened boxes she'd brought back from Detroit had been emptied and were scattered around her in bed. She was swimming in a sea of trophies, ribbons and certificates.

"Morning," she said with a shy, adorable smile, patted a barely inhabitable space on the bed.

"Come here, I want you to see something."

"I will if I can just..." he took one sweep of his big arm, moved the trinkets and created space to sit down. "There."

Her radiant smile never ceased to send that sharp pang in his chest whenever he saw it. If all she did was smile at him for the rest of his life, he'd be the luckiest man on Earth.

"What am I lookin' at, love?"

Barrett grabbed his reading glasses from the end table and slipped the frames on. His eyesight had never been great, but never bad enough to warrant prescription glasses. He'd become a fan of wearing them lately solely to see Renee's reaction. She obviously had a thing for a man in a pair of sexy specs.

Renee tapped her finger against a picture of a just-married couple standing outside some tropical island. The woman, petite and perky, had striking, ebony skin, tight, jet-black coils and a very beautiful, very familiar smile. The man was almost the complete opposite; he towered over her, had a lighter complexion and what looked to be green eyes and was very heavy set. He had his arm around the woman and stared at her with a loving smile, while she gave the camera a grin for the ages.

"Your parents?"

"Their wedding day," she nodded.

"What were their names?"

"Marie and Paul," she smiled. "Marie and Paul Thomas." She turned the page and the plastic crinkled, made her frown. "This is a very, very old photo album. I know it's what's inside of it that matters, but I'm attached to it. Oh!"

Her fingertips drummed against the page frantically.

"This, this is my mom when she was seven months pregnant with me."

Barrett grinned. The apple certainly didn't fall far from the tree. Marie, dressed in a pair of jeans and a crop top, cradled her exposed belly and beamed proudly at the photographer. She showed him one picture after another; her baby pictures, adorable photos of her kid years and so on.

Barrett's feelings for Renee evolved so strongly over the course of all these months. As it was, their relationship had no label; they were much too entwined emotionally, physically and financially to just be boyfriend and girlfriend, and if these damned two weeks hadn't gone like they did and interrupted his plans, he would at least been able to call her his fiancee. Trying to find the right time to propose was not like trying to figure out when to say I love you; after all, it was a fact that they both loved each other.

He was conflicted — she was in better spirits, sure enough, but he had seen little glimpses of old habits during private moments when she thought he wasn't around. He mended the broken chain bonded to her physical desires, but he questioned wanting to take her hand in marriage if she wasn't completely ready for it. Still, he couldn't help entertaining the idea of being able to fill up their own photo album with pictures of each other, friends and family.

"I miss them," Renee stated, sighed deeply.

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"Oh trust me, I know what that's like," he nodded, lips brushed against her forehead. His cell phone rang and he parted from her to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Barrett, you sittin' down?"

Brandi was on the other line, sniffling and crying through her words.

Barrett's heart hammered in his chest. Brandi only ever asked if he was stationary when something bad happened.

Oh, God. Not Eden.

"Is Eden okay?" he asked frantically, pacing the floor.

Renee climbed out of bed and walked to him with a worried expression, holding his hand. He squeezed it tight, waited for Brandi to compose herself.

"Eden's fine," Brandi confirmed.

The weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders, but a tenseness still lingered within him. He went down the mental checklist of people, all of whom Brandi eliminated.

"Then what, Brandi?"

"Daddy," she blubbered. "His wife said he don't have much time left and --"

Barrett felt his blood boil. He had gotten scared, damn close to losing his mind over that bastard?

"That's too bad," Barrett said, deadpan, like he couldn't care less.

"Barrett --"

"Brandi, I love you, but you know how I feel about him, okay? W-when he passes, maybe I'll send flowers or something. BIG maybe there. But I'm not going to his funeral and I sure as hell don't want to see him before he dies."

"He keeps askin' for you to see him --"

"I don't care!"

Barrett's roar frightened Renee enough for her to slacken the grip on his hand. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes full of remorse and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of her palm tenderly, still holding the phone to his ear.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to his love and his sister. "I-I didn't mean to yell at you, Brandi. God, you're the older one. Don't you remember the hell he put us through?"

"Like it was yesterday," Brandi countered. "I've been seein' Daddy for the past year off and on. Every single time I went, he asked for you and it took a good long while 'fore he realized his oldest son doesn't want to see him because he hates his guts!"

"Damn right, I do," Barrett said proudly. "He ruined our lives."

"And we carried on," Brandi reminded him. "Times were tough but look how we rebounded. You wouldn't be on that farm, in that big ass house if Mama hadn't picked herself up like the strong woman she was. You believe me or not, but when Mama passed, she didn't have no ill will towards Daddy. Said she didn't want to leave this world with hate in her heart. Why can't you do the same thing, Barrett? If not for yourself or that sweet woman you got by your side now..."

He looked at Renee and swallowed.

"... Then for Mama."

Barrett exhaled and shook his head. He didn't want to see that man with every fiber of his being, but he believed the tidbit she shared about Ma. Even though she wasn't around, God had blessed him with her presence all those years. And true, a lot of his mindset changed now that he had Renee to think of. Between Ma's wisdom and wanting to give Renee the stable, peaceful life she deserved, he wanted to be a better man. Having hate in his heart for the man who gave him life down to the bitter end wasn't the way to achieve that.

"How long has he got?"

"I-I don't know. A few days at the most."

Silence.

"I'll think about it."

"Barrett --"

He hit the end button and turned to Renee.

"My... father," he said with a strained tilt of his head, "is on his deathbed. Wants to see me."

"But you don't want to see him," Renee stated.

"No, I don't," Barrett said with a shrug, sat on the edge of the bed. "Haven't seen him in years, don't see what the point would be. W-what, to say sorry?" he said, scoffing with disgust, his olive skin flushed red with anger.

He couldn't remember the last time he cried — years and years ago — but he quickly turned away from Renee when his eyes began to well up. He shed too many tears as a youth, wishing things hadn't gone how they did, wishing he had a normal relationship with his father. It made him angry, embarrassed that despite how hard he tried not to care, he did.

"Barrett." Renee slid her hand against his cheek. "Look at me."

Reluctantly he faced Renee, mouth contorted in an angry sneer, silently crying.

"You need to go," she encouraged, dabbing at his tears. "I know you really don't want to — neither did I."

He wiped at his eyes with a balled fist, exhaled and nodded reluctantly, hunched over.

"I'll go with you."

"No," he declined, smiling weakly through the immense pain he felt. "I want you to stay here and relax. Brandi'll be there waitin' for me." He stood up and pulled her to her feet, one hand resting on her hip and the other cradling her round face, thumb caressing her soft skin.

"Well, I'll be waiting for you when you get back."

She ruffled his long, scruffy hair between her fingers and they both chuckled, smiles dissipating and replaced by intense stares of affection and love. He dipped low and took hold of her mouth, kissing her deeply and groaned when she closed her eyes and whimpered into him. He never wanted to let go, and judging from how deeply her fingernails dug into his forearms, she didn't either. They parted, both miserable at the prospect of being separated.

"It shouldn't be long," he promised. "I'll call when I get there, and you call me if you need anything."

"I will."

He threw a few day's worth of clothes into a duffel bag and made his way outside to the pickup truck. Renee followed behind him, arms folded with a solemn smile on her gorgeous face.

"Drive safe."

Barrett nodded silently, started the engine and watched her get further and further away in the rear view mirror until she was no longer in sight.

***

"Checkmate!"

Wesley cackled and slammed down the king piece so hard that the other figures scattered and rolled off the table.

"Have you ever heard of hubris, young man?" Thelma said through annoyed slits.

"Hubris? Yeah, I heard of him . He's that guy that works at the bar down the road, but who cares? I WON! Haaaa," he gloated, stood up and did a couple of hip thrusts and gyrations that made Renee snort the water she was drinking out of her nose.

With Barrett gone, she was starting to feel lonely. Who made better company on a Saturday night than Wesley and Thelma?

"Alright Wes," Renee warned. "You won. Time for another game."

"How 'bout Pictionary?" he suggested eagerly.

"Now we're talking!" Thelma cackled, rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Why, I was one of the best drawers in my art class in high school. Even won the 12th grade art contest! See, our assignment was to..."

"Zzzzzz..." Wesley snored, mouth open and eyes closed.

"Wes! Stop it!" Renee suppressed laughter, knowing that Thelma enjoyed their friendly rivalry.

"Let's get it set up. I'm sure Renee's drawing skills are lovely," she said, batting her eyelashes in Renee's direction, voice dripping with honey. "You, on the other hand — I've seen your sorry excuse for drawing. Hmph! A pre-schooler could do a better job."

"That's it, old lady. You and me, Pictionary, in the living room!" Wesley stood up triumphantly and slid his chair underneath the dining room table.

"Bring it!" Thelma shouted.

A light knock at the back door drew Renee's attention.

"Can I take a break from refereeing to get that?" she joked.

"I guess," Wes smirked, helping Thelma out of her seat only to have her swat at him like a fly.

Renee unlocked and opened the door. A woman with a short, blonde pixie cut, chubby cheeks and glasses stood on the other side.

"Can... I help you?"

"Barrett," the woman said desperately, her voice very familiar. "Is Barrett here?"

Wait a minute.

"Sarah?"

When Renee connected the dots, she couldn't believe it. The formerly svelte, modelesque bombshell at put on at least fifty pounds and chopped off all her golden locks. She was dressed in a wool jacket, blue jeans and flat boots, a far cry from her tank top and daisy dukes ensemble she loved wearing.

"Yeah," she confirmed, embarrassment present in her voice. "It's me."

A plethora of potential reactions, mostly negative, played in Renee's mind. After all, she cheated on one of the most amazing men she had ever known right under his nose with no concern for his feelings. What stopped her from slamming the door in her face?

The pity in Sarah's hazel eyes, for one. That feisty, bitchy aura that followed her before was no longer present. In fact, she seemed to emit friendliness and modesty . Plus, Barrett had done a pretty good job of blasting her the day he found out she was cheating. More than anything, she just wanted to find out the reason behind her visit.

Renee glanced over her shoulder and slipped out of the door undetected; if Wes or Thelma found out, she'd only get yelled at and called every derogatory thing they could imagine.

"He's out of town," Renee explained.

"Oh."

The two women stared at each other under the porch light, shifting uncomfortably as awkward silence hung over them.

"Look, I know it doesn't make any sense to come back," she confessed. "A lot's happened since I left Quentin. I heard through friends that you two were together and... I'm happy for him. I didn't know too much about you — I still don't — but I heard you were a good woman."

Renee stood, stunned, but continued to listen.

"I just wanted to thank Barrett. I made a lot of mistakes at both of our expense, but what happened needed to happen, if that made any sense. I ended up movin' to another town, enrolled in college, found an apartment."




Eye of the Beholder Ch. 04



"That's great, Sarah," Renee said with a cautious smile.

"Yeah," she smiled back. "Anyway, I know he's moved on... listen, whatever you do, don't take him for granted like I did. He really is one in a million."

"Trust me, I know."

Sarah nodded. "Pass it on when gets back?"

"Absolutely."

"Thanks."

"RENEE! You'd better come get this old bat, she's cheatin'!"

"You're just angry 'cause you can't win worth a lick!"

"Wesley and Thelma?"

"I'd better get back to them."

"Well, see ya."

Renee watched her walk away and despite the past, had the utmost respect for Sarah for starting her life over and trying to move on. True enough, her downfall had been at her own discretion, but she made changes to better herself and become independent. Renee could never judge another woman for that.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Who's turn is it?"

***

Barrett's pick-up truck idled outside of the mobile home. His hands, clammy and wet, clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he didn't want to go in. To see these people who were technically his family — a sister and brother, Brandi said, who favored the two of them a lot. It was childish of him to feel this way, but as far as he was concerned, Brandi had been his only sibling. Not to mention this woman who'd he left Ma for. He wondered if she'd received the same violent treatment, or if there was something 'special' about her that made her exempt from feeling his fists or his shoe against her head.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, re-thinking the whole damned thing. Maybe if he backed out slow, tried not to make too much noise...

"Uncle Barrett!"

Eden rushed from behind the house, ran over to his car with an energetic pace.

His heart caved and he grinned, put the truck in park, turned off the ignition and climbed out, feeling the hesitation melt away for a while.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, sweeping his niece up in his arms with a kiss on the forehead. "I missed ya."

"I missed you too. Hey, you should meet Cece and Evan. They're really nice, but it's weird to call them aunt and uncle 'cause they're only, like, two years older than me."

Barrett sighed, put on a brave face. "I'll say hi soon. Where's your mama?"

"In the house with Granddad. Kelly went to the store but she'll be back soon."

"Who's Kelly?"

"His wife," Eden smiled. "She's nice. Well, what are you waitin' for?" Eden snatched his hand and tried to pull, bless her heart, all of Barrett's 220 pound frame to the house. He followed, albeit slowly and dreading this moment, squeezing her hand.

The mobile home was very close to being in disrepair. It didn't look a square foot bigger than 800, and that was being generous. The white, vinyl siding had turned a dirty, ashy gray. He always imagined him living in a big, fancy home with his children and new wife. If this is where they'd been the whole time, they were no better off than he, Brandi and Ma.

The shades were drawn inside the home and a feeling of oppression and despair swept over Barrett. He couldn't tell if it was the old man's impending demise, or just his own apprehension to be there. He could barely make out the ratty furniture and other knick-knacks in the home, barely made out the outline of his sister sitting in a chair next to what he assumed was the bedroom.

"Brandi?"

"Barrett." She stood up and hugged her baby brother. "You came."

"Yeah," he acknowledged and patted her back, still not thrilled by the idea. "I'm gonna be leavin' soon, so... where is he?"

"In the bedroom. Go on in, I think he's conscious right now."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, knocked once on the door and entered.

The bedroom was no better than the living room. The shades were drawn, and with the exception of a small lamp in the corner, it was dark.

Barrett took his time walking in. When he saw the old man, turned on his side with his back facing Barrett, all of those emotions came rushing back. Part of him had wished this moment came years earlier, when he was healthy and able-bodied. He fantasized about doing to him what he'd done to Ma all those years ago, repaying every single hit, punch or kick he doled out.

"B-Barrett."

His voice was weak, but still distinguishable.

"Yeah." Barrett sat in a chair across from the bed. "It's me."

He took his time turning over on the other side, coughed and wheezed throughout the ordeal. Barrett never made a move to help him; instead, he sat with his arms folded, and though he would have enjoyed the first expression his father saw from him in years to be a scowl, he looked more ambivalent than anything.

One of the old man's eyes was milky and glazed over from a cataract, but the other one seemed unaffected.

What could Barrett say? He looked exactly the same way he did all those years ago, just old. Whatever illness he had didn't take away any of his ample girth.

For a while, he laid there, stared at Barrett without uttering so much as "hi". Finally, the old man's cracked lips lifted in a shaky smile, revealing a tooth here or there but mostly pink gums.

"You look so much... like her," he wheezed.

Barrett felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest. He cocked his head to the side, folded his arms and flashed a sarcastic smile.

"Thank God for that, huh?"

"Heh," his father nodded. "I ain't never been much of a looker."

He shrugged.

"I heard you talkin' to Brandi out there, Barrett. I know you didn't wanna be here to see me. Means a lot that you did."

Barrett's smile faded.

"Look... I ain't got long," he confirmed. "I can't make up for what you saw growin' up or take back what I did. I 'spose Lana never told you, but she and I talked a few times 'fore she passed. Said she forgave me. See, you might look like a Hawthorne with a tan," he grinned, bearing his off-white teeth, "but that stubbornness came from a long line of Tsosie men 'fore you."

"I'm nothing like you," Barrett grumbled.

"If that's how you feel, I'm not gonna change your mind," he said with a shallow breath. "But I know better. Learned a long time ago that being stubborn is good for some things, but it can fuck up a hell of a whole lot more than it helps. That includes hatin' me for the rest of your life 'cause of what I did. Not askin' to uh... to be ab-abs.."

"Absolved," Barrett helped him. Were it not for him making a sliver of sense, he would have taken the opportunity to make some kind of wisecrack about his intelligence.

"Yeah, that. I did what I did and ultimately, I'm gonna pay for it. Hell, I think I done already paid for a lot of it."

He went into a coughing fit and again, Barrett waited for it to pass.

"But son, what I'm talkin' 'bout is the ultimate judgement. You still believe in God?"

"Yes," Barrett said.

"If for no other reason than that, I don't want you to spend the rest of your life hatin' me. God don't want you to do it and you know wherever your Ma is, she don't want you to, either."

The strong words began to penetrate the strong fortress protecting Barrett's emotions, which took years to build. The visual of his mother, ethereal and angelic, smiling at her son from beyond and nodding in assurance made it crumble in a matter of seconds. For the second time in two days, after not doing it at all since his mother's passing, he cried, head down and silent except for the occasional sniffle.

"You were a good kid, Barrett. I... I ain't been around you, but I can already see you're a better man than I was."

Barrett wiped his tears with his sleeve, let a deep breath go.

"Take care of Brandi and that little lady, Eden. Sad I didn't get to spend much time with her." He reached his hand out for Barrett, and this time he didn't hesitate. He stood up and took hold of the old man's fragile palm, who squeezed with as much strength as he had left.

"Goodbye, son. I'm sure it don't mean much now, but I love you. Cough!"

Barrett let his hand go when he started coughing, which resulted in a mix of blood and mucus this time. Brandi heard the commotion and ran in.

"I got him, Barrett. Daddy! Daddy... come on, sit up..."

***

Renee jolted upright in bed, panting, sweating profusely.

She knew what it was. Somehow, closure hadn't made the nightmares come to an end. They were less frequent now, thank god, but they still happened — usually when she slept alone. Three nights in a row Barrett had been gone, but he was due to come back within a few hours. She hated to call him in the middle of the night while he was driving, but she was still unsettled from the nightmare and hearing his voice was the perfect trick to calm her nerves.

Her shaky hands raided the bedside drawer until she found her cellphone and hit the speed dial button. He answered on the first ring.

"Hey darlin'."

"Hey, hon. How's the drive?"

"Almost over. Can't sleep?"

"No," she admitted.

"That's okay. You can tell me what you've been up to these past few days."

"Other than missing you and working? Not much. I've had Thelma and Wes over for the past few nights to keep me company."

"Oh man," Barrett chuckled. "That sounds --"

"Just about how you'd expect it to be. Lots of being at each others throats. They get pretty damn competitive with scrabble. And chess. Heck, pretty much everything. Oh, by the way... Sarah stopped by, looking for you."

Barrett went quiet on the other end for a few seconds, then sighed.

"What for?"

"Nothing bad," she said in a surprised tone. "She's... changed a lot. Wouldn't be able to tell it was the same person if you put the old her and the new her next to each other. She just wanted me to tell you thanks for helping her get her priorities straight after... what went down."

"That's good. I uh... I hope things work out for her. Listen, I'll be home in a few minutes. See you then?"

"Of course."

"Great. Bye, love."

"Bye."

It was sad, but as expected, that five minute conversation with Barrett soothed her so much that she snuggled against the pillows and went back to bed, excited to feel his arm curl around her waist and that playful little kiss he loved giving. She knew it was only a temporary fix for her nightmares; she would have to learn to get over them, whether or not Barrett was around.

Consulting a therapist was sounding more and more like a good idea.

***

Home.

If this could be what he came home to for the rest of his life — Renee, passed out in his bed, arms wrapped around her pillow as his replacement — he'd die a happy man.

He kicked off his boots and stripped down to his boxers, gently peeling the pillow away from her and replacing it with his chest. He leaned down and kissed her, grinned to himself when she exhaled softly and smiled in her sleep.

Between Renee's trip back home and his travels to see his father, they were both two very emotionally-drained people. Barrett couldn't remember a time where his mind hadn't been on something important — his company and employees, the folks in Quentin that depended on him. Brandi and Eden.

And Poor Renee. He knew she'd relaxed considerably after what she went through with Terrell, but working for him left her stressed, as well.

The holidays were coming up, and Wes had done a good job with keeping the company in tact during his absence.

Fuck it.

On a whim, he decided they — he and Renee — needed a getaway.

He didn't know where they were going, but he knew it needed to be far away. She could pick the country, climate, and length of the stay, he was open-minded. But they needed some 'us' time, away from family and friends.

It would also give him a chance to do what he'd had his heart set on for months now.

He still had some reservations, but none of them outweighed every beautiful thing he'd be gaining. Renee had her problems just like he had his — though he fought hard to hide them. The meeting with his father was a definite breakthrough, but the long road to forgiveness he faced was no different than Renee's journey. He was just a couple paces behind.

First thing tomorrow morning, he'd tell her about his idea and get the details ironed out. Then, hopefully, they would spend quality time together, and if things went really well, they would come back to Texas as soon-to-be husband and wife.



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 05



It rained all day the next day.  By evening it was torrential, enough to cause minor flooding along the river, so I watched a movie I'd been trying to see for weeks, but I couldn't help feeling empty.

It finally stopped raining at about 5:00 the next afternoon.  It was soggy everywhere, but the sun peeped out just in time to set, and shortly thereafter I slipped down my favorite alley, anticipating sensual delights.

There was a note on the outside of the window, in an envelope, taped over with clear sealing tape to protect it from the rain.  There was no name on the envelope, nothing, in fact, but a lipstick kiss.  I peeled the envelope off by the tape and opened it.  Inside was a piece of notepaper which smelled heavily of Sharon's own sweet musk.  The source of the 'perfume' turned out to be the eye end of a peacock feather folded into the note.  (She just floored me: she was so hopelessly erotic.)   I opened the note:





Eye of the Beholder Ch. 05



As her climax began to subside, I rolled back the speed on the wired vibrator, pulling it out by the wire until it was halfway out, resting against her clit.  This brought on another wave of moans.  Then I slipped both vibrators out (more aftershocks).

As her throes died down, she slowly slid down from the window sill, settling, almost in a puddle, into the chair.  She lay there for a long time with her eyes closed, her breathing calming.  Finally she opened her eyes and looked at me, thoroughly satisfied, but obviously not quite sure if she should feel betrayed.  After a long moment, she smiled, a half-smile but a smile.

"Are you happy?"  I signed in American Deaf Sign Language, figuring that it was a fairly self-explanatory sign.  Her eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright.

"You sign?" she signed.  "I sign," I signed back.

"You talk?" she signed.  "I talk," I said out loud.

"I don't," she signed.



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 06



You have to wonder about Fate sometimes. Just because I happened to take a shortcut one evening, I suddenly found myself voyeur to a stunning, brunette exhibitionist/narcissist, and involved in the most erotic affair of my life. We'd been driving each other to shattering orgasms for weeks, and I'd never even touched her sexually until tonight. I'd been shushed with a finger to the lips every time I tried to speak.

And then, up pops another "Just because". Just because my cousin Jackie was deaf, I knew sign language; and since I knew it, I used a sign when I couldn't think of a pidgin wigwag way to signal "happy".

And now, suddenly, it all seemed to make sense. No wonder she never got phone calls: she didn't talk. No wonder such a beautiful woman became such a narcissist. At that time when "children" come of age, not talking can be a serious drawback. If she was a late bloomer, she might well have been her only lover through those years. I suspected her sex drive wouldn't have been much less then, so finding no others, she fell in love with her first lover and stayed that way.

As for her exhibitionism, Sharon was as new to it as I was to my voyeurism. She had noticed me outside her window one night, and it had turned her on. She started leaving the blinds open a little wider, watching for me, playing to me when I was there; and the more she did it, the more it turned her on. She put the footstool out so I could watch her in the bath, and worried that I'd wonder why it was there, whether it was a trap. Breaking the barrier of the window between us had taken even more courage than I imagined. She told me she was usually fairly shy. She almost didn't do it.

We 'talked' about all of this, sitting in our places on opposite sides of the window. She asked if I wanted to come in, and I said "More than anything. Do you think I should?" But she wasn't sure, and neither was I, so here we sat.

Sharon got a bottle of wine, and we sipped between 'chatter'. She was still wearing the sheer, white lace negligee, looking much more than just seductive. I was sitting outside with my pants off, probably looking more than just silly.

It was obvious to both of us that the relationship had changed, and we talked about the change. Though my well-timed lick had supercharged her last orgasm, unexpected as it was, she still didn't know if we should try actual, in-the-flesh sex. She had never had much luck with it. It didn't turn her on, and she said she'd hate to taint this relationship with a failed attempt. Should we try the same as usual with me inside the house? She thought it might make her too uncomfortable. I was pretty comfortable out here as long as the weather was nice, so it didn't matter that much. I certainly couldn't argue about the results so far.

All in all, we didn't decide much, but it was good to talk. Sharon thought she needed time to sort out her feelings, and as it turned out she had the chance. She was going out of town again for four days. She'd be back on her birthday. I had devised a plan, and now I knew when to implement it. 

We finally said goodnight, with a light kiss through the window. She flicked her tongue across my lips at the end, perhaps to see if she could taste herself on them, but she didn't press it further and ended the kiss before I could respond. I don't know how it affected her, but I found myself thinking, "How could one kiss have gotten to me like that?"





Eye of the Beholder Ch. 06



This was just too hot! No, really, I mean it: it was too hot. The foreplay had been going on for too many weeks. The sight of her, smell of her, taste of her, and ohhh, the feel of her. She felt it, and went at it harder, by way of saying, it's OK, let's do it this way first.

She was thrashing from my ministrations, as well. I was holding on tight to keep from losing her clit. I held off for as long as I could... about five seconds. She felt it coming, grabbed hold of my shaft, stroking long strokes in rhythm with her sucking. As she fell headlong into her orgasm, she lifted her lips, trying to keep her half-open eyes on the monitor, jacking me off as I came in great, electric spurts all over her cheek and neck. Her legs clamped on my head as wave after wave of orgasm washed over her. My head was spinning from my climax. It was like I had never cum before. It redefined ecstasy.

Sharon shook over and over, as I backed off on her clit, just softly teasing her orgasm out for as long as possible. At last she settled onto me, relaxing, the climax subsiding into ripples. We lay like that for a long time, just softly licking and suckling each other.

As we finally turned to take each other in our arms, I reached out and flipped two of the VCR's into rewind.

To Be Continued...



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 07



The VCR clunked as it reached the beginning of the tape, bringing me out of my bliss for just long enough to hit play. We were both laid back in the afterglow, stroking each other gently. The smoky sax on the stereo mingled with the scent of the lilacs outside the window as a soft breeze ruffled the parachute draping the bed. It struck me how nice it was, after sex, not to have to say anything. It was the culmination of weeks of foreplay for both of us. It was wonderful, and we both knew it. 

The large monitor screen came to life as the tape started, and what life it was! It was the shot from the cameras at my end of the bed, the part she couldn't have seen in our 69, her delicious, shaved labia on the receiving end of my tongue. The smaller monitor to the side had the other end in it, her lips gliding up and down my shaft. We stroked as we watched, languid and directionless, but slowly giving in to the heat of it, the gliding of our hands beginning to take on purpose. Sharon's hand had slipped down between her legs, the leg she spread to give herself access coming to rest, then rub against my cock, which had sprung to life itself.

I put the cameras at the foot of the bed on the two lower monitors, one a long shot that took in both of us, but focused on her, and the other a close shot of her fingers caressing her clit, her pelvis rising to meet them. She smiled at me then returned her eyes to the monitor, playing to it, now. She teased her clit with the softest strokes, then slid down to dip a finger inside, stroking it back up over her clit and pulling it away slowly, drawing out a silky strand of her cum like a spiderweb. I was entranced, loving the show she was putting on as the soft skin of her leg caressed my now rock hard erection. I knew she was enjoying it as much as I was.

She had drifted away from just playing, and her fingers were coaxing herself higher, a soft moan excaping her lips as her eyes went back and forth between the monitors. I suddenly realized she was timing her next orgasm to it. The recorded 69 was coming to its climax, and Sharon was, too. She held back, waiting for it, seeing the orgasm start to show in her recorded eyes as she stroked and sucked and finally screamed while great spurts splashed across her face, and the image from my end bobbed around in the monitor, her thighs locked around my head.

Her current climax was a much quieter affair, seen on the screen, as her rhythm on her clit became erratic, stopped, her pelvis rocking away from it, then coming back to slide in another slow glide. But her face...I was glad I had a camera rolling. It was transcendental and unbelievably sexy at the same time, her eyes finally closed, a look that left no doubt at all what was happening, and totally given to it.

As it subsided, she began to settle back, which wasn't what I wanted at all. In her orgasm, she had spread her leg completely over me, so when I rolled toward her, it rolled her over on her side. My cock was inches from those shaved lips it had wanted to part for so long. I leaned forward until the head just slipped between them slightly, sheer joy, then rolled my leg over her until she was lying on her stomach with me straddling her. She looked over her shoulder at me as if to say "Tease!" then put her forehead on the pillow.

I nibbled on the back of her neck, feeling the hairs stand up as I did, kissed around under her ear. She shivered. I kissed under the other one, then laid a slow line of licks and kisses down her spine, carressing her ass as my tongue slipped down the crack. She spread her legs way out, arching up to expose herself completely to me. I tongued around her rosebud, licked then blew on her perineum, then used my thumbs to spread her pussy open and sucked it for a second, kissed it, then started to work my way back up her spine, my cock coming to rest between her cuntlips, begging to thrust in.

She'd had enough. She rocked her hips back, the motion slipping me halfway inside her in one motion. I thrust, deep, but not too deep, then pulled all the way out. I slid in again, a long, slow, deep push. It was delerious, like silk and oil, tight, warm, slick, caressing, engulfing, then pulling out feeling her muscles tighten around me trying to hold me in. She backed to her knees, reached behind her and pulled me back into her, then rolled over, coming to rest with me on my back, and her straddling me facing my feet. She rocked a couple of times, watching in the mirror, then swiveled around to face me. I set the cameras so she could see herself from all four angles in the four 25" monitors, picked the front right camera for the large monitor, set the control board down for her to use, then just leaned back to enjoy it.

She pulled almost completely off of me, just the glans holding me inside, rocking herself forward so I could reach her breasts with my mouth. Considering for a second what would look best to her on the screen, I stretched out my tongue, beginning a long lick at the very bottom of one of those perfect pears, then up to suck on the nipple lightly.

She impaled herself on my cock, snaking side to side as she quickly engulfed me, down low, her nipples grazing mine. I noticed she had changed the camera to the one behind her so she could watch, smiling. Well, so was I. She wet her lips, running her tongue around them gently as she watched, withdrew, impaled: long, slow strokes that showed my shaft wet with her juices, then swallowed it up again. She rocked back, switching the camera to the front right, running her hands up and down her body, throwing back her head to shake her hair back, then sitting tall, her eyes on the monitor, transfixed, rising to show my cock and watching as she slid down on it again.

I reached over my shoulder and switched it to 3. I was proud of 3. It was the front left, and the midshot caught the mirror behind her as well, reflecting her arched back just to the left of those succulent breasts. She was massaging them, tweaking them, eyes on the monitor, hands slipping down, around her hips, over her delectable derriere, eyes shifting to watch the reflected mirror; all the while riding me, rocking forward and back, rising on the forward rock, glancing to watch me be engulfed again.

Suddenly she leaned forward and kissed me, warm and deep, lifting up to look at me, eyes happy. I think she had just realized how completely she liked this. She kissed me again, rubbing her body against mine as she rocked back on me, then forward, then back to sit, watching as her fingers traced the line of her hip, up and over and down into her curls, trailing through them to her labia. My cock was sliding through the lips, wet and hard, her fingers stroking me when I was out, and herself when I was in. I reached over and tightened the shot, losing the mirror, but what a view! She had leaned back, so she could watch the monitor. I was watching the real thing, her fingers flickering over her clit, dipping down to slide long over my cock as it emerged, then grabbing it at the base, helping to push it into her for a few strokes. It was so erotic she quickly pushed herself to the edge, and me as well. For just a second she pulled back, coasting at the brink, but we were both beyond holding back. She pushed herself back on me as I plunged into her, again and again, until we both erupted into a thunderous climax. I opened my eyes to find her looking deep into mine, hers satisfied but smouldering from the intensity of the experience, her hair around her face damp and tousled, a sparkle of sweat across her brow.

To this day, I have a print of that shot on my wall. It may well be the most erotic image I've ever seen. Just her face, but her face down to the depths of her being.

To Be Continued...



Eye of the Beholder Ch. 08



Sharon was a vision, lying sprawled akimbo on the bed, one arm behind her head on the pillow, the other draped across her body with the fingertips combing gently through the curls above her labia. Her hair, looking like she was fresh from a fuck, fanned out over her breasts with the nipples poking through. She was watching me with eyes dreamy and semi-focused as I poured us fresh glasses of champagne, the last in the bottle. I handed one to her, though I hated to take her fingers away from their toying.


The scent of the lilacs was still in the air, but fainter as the evening had cooled. I had noticed earlier with a certain note of regret that they were nearing the end of their run. I'd miss them. I crossed and closed the window a little, then came up at the foot of the bed where one of her legs was extended, straight and oh-so-shapely. Lifting it, I kissed her instep softly, sucked in a toe for a second, gave her a soft, wet nibble in the hollow of her ankle, then slowly climbed onto the bed, lavishing attention on her leg as I did, no easy task with a glass of champagne in my hand.

My slurp on the inside of her knee drew a soft giggle, but when she pulled away from it she spread her thighs a bit more, which was just fine with me. The skin of her inner thigh was so soft, so inviting, so delicately scented with her own perfume. Lightly suckling my way up was another subtle extension of the delirium of this night. I had imagined it so many times that the reality could have been less than the imagination, but instead I became more lightheaded the closer I came to those smoothly shaved, slightly parted lips. I kissed them gently, just barely brushed her inner labia with my tongue, lifting away as she rose to meet me.

I lifted up on an elbow, took the glass and poured a tiny bit into her navel, my finger laid over the edge to direct the stream. The champagne had been out for a while, so it was not very cold, but her skin sprang up into small goosebumps anyway. I leaned in and sucked it out, playing my tongue around inside for just a second, then began a line of soft kisses, sucks and nibbles down the flat of her stomach. There's just something about the way those subtle curves beckon downward, that has always made my head spin.

And then, here I was again, nuzzling my way through that soft auburn forest toward those silky smooth lips, the musky scent of our lovemaking flooding my senses. I gave her a soft kiss and suckle on her clit—she arched slightly to meet it—then lifted up and directed the tiniest stream I could manage right above it, watching it trickle down over her before I bent to lick it up with a long lick. A huge sigh escaped her lips, and I looked up to see if she was watching the monitors, but to my surprise she was lying back with her eyes closed just enjoying it. Good.

I poured another small stream right onto her clit, again lowering my head to lick it away, slipping my tongue as deep between her lips as I could manage as I savored the taste, the bouquet, the feel of her wet and warm around my tongue. Again, imagination paled in comparison with the reality. Licking up in a long stroke, catching her clit from underneath, I drew it in, sucked it in deep, gave a soft swirl around it with my tongue, and another, and a pause and another. Her sharp intake of breath told me all I needed to know, her hips rising to push herself against my mouth. I flickered my tongue back and forth, sliding slowly up and down so the flicks ascended and descended her clit, then sucked it in hard and swirled several times while she writhed gently beneath me.

She was breathing harder now, not quite panting, but getting there quickly. I pressed harder with my tongue, flicking until she rocked up into it with a soft moan, sucking and swirling, nearly swooning from the taste of her and the ecstacy of hearing her moans now that my mouth was where it had longed to be for so long. She was getting closer now, so I lifted away just long enough to drain the champagne and toss the glass onto the chair, then took up where I had left off, my tongue now cool from the champagne. This drew a little gasp from her, but I warmed to the task quickly, swirling, flicking, sucking, occasionally barely nibbling as I ran a finger up and down the opening to her vagina, and down to tease her perineum. 

She was moaning and grinding harder and harder, close to cumming. Dipping two fingers into her—deep moan—and drawing them out wet and slippery, I pressed my tongue down on her clit, rolling it, drawing one finger back to run in circles around her anus, slipping just the tip inside, then running the other in circles around the entrance to her vagina as she moaned and writhed and arched. She was panting hard, her moans rising toward her orgasm. Finally, as it spilled over her and out of her, I slowly slid my fingers deep inside both holes, pressing the one inside her vagina up to caress her G-spot while she screamed and thrashed with the strength of her climax. I could feel her clit pulsing in my mouth, the contractions hard on the finger up her ass.

She collapsed completely, which I didn't mind at all, the sign of a very pleasant task well done. I was rock hard again, but I really didn't need another orgasm. This had been for her, total attention with no distractions from the media controls. Her clit was still throbbing in my mouth, the slightest movement from my tongue bringing a soft moan, along with a gentle attempt to draw away, but I was aware of her sensitivity, and tailed off to let her lie there in the afterglow.

As I slid slowly up to lie next to her, she laid her arm outstretched on the bed so I could cuddle up to her, resting my head on one of those incomparable breasts. Within minutes we were both asleep.





Eye of the Beholder Ch. 09



The following day was a haze... a busy haze, but a haze nonetheless. I had to get the video equipment loaded out and back to the agency, then spent the next eight hours mixing down the video for a tape to give to Sharon... and, of course, for me.

If you've never done a video mix, you might not have any idea of what exquisite torture those eight hours were. Imagine a room with a bank of video decks, both tape and digital, a state of the art mixer mixing to a huge studio monitor, and me trying (desperately) to choose the best mix from four screens of unbelievably erotic video.

Sharon had outdone herself in every way. I had noticed her playing to the camera, but looking at the video it was like she was born to it. She knew where all the cameras were, and made love to them even as she was to me. There were a thousand things I hadn't noticed, because she played them to cameras that weren't on the main screen.

When she trailed a finger delicately up over her clit, she smiled so completely seductively at the camera on her face that it melted me on the spot. She closed her eyes and slid a finger inside, drawing it out wet and away like a strand of spiderweb. I had seen that, but I hadn't seen her lift the finger to her lips in another shot and softly, slowly suck it off with that look a woman gets when she's giving you head and she looks up to watch you enjoying it. And how could you choose between the rear view with her back arched over that incredible ass, rising to show my cock for a moment, then slipping down to engulf it, and the front shot rolling her nipples between her fingers, a look of complete rapture on her face. 

I ended up doing a great deal of split screen, all the while regretting the loss of picture size. I finally had to just do the edit as if it were a live broadcast, because it quickly became apparent that I could have easily done a dozen different mixes, any of which would have made a dead man cum.

I was glad there was almost no one around, and that I could lock the door, as I often did while mixing. I had such a raging erection I would have been embarrassed to get up and open the door. At the start I had been rubbing myself through my pants, but by the end it was all I could do to keep from cumming without even touching myself. I didn't want the orgasm; I wanted to do the entire mix in the unabated fever of the moment.

Finally it was finished. I took a copy I had made of the mastering run to give to Sharon, locked the source tapes away in my vault, and headed out into the night.

It was just after eight o'clock, the sunset still lingering in the sky, a completely gorgeous evening. I tried not to hurry, to enjoy it as I walked, but that didn't go very well. I reminded myself of Chevy Chase 'enjoying' the Grand Canyon in National Lampoon's Vacation, all the while tapping his foot impatient to move along. Still, it was hard not to be seduced by it: the warm evening air, now more gardenias and magnolias than lilacs, a gentle breeze, the crickets droning away... it was idyllic. Tap tap tap.

Turning the corner into the courtyard area in front of Sharon's house, I had a pang of disappointment. It looked dark. But wait... as I came closer, I could see dim light in the back of the house. I wondered for a moment if I should knock, but why? I walked around back.

The only light I could see seemed to be coming from the bedroom window, dimmer than usual. Making my way to the window, I avoided the beam of light coming from it, then chuckled at myself for it.

Wow, this was different. The room was remade. Sharon had obviously been busy. The parachute was still there, though she had figured out the controls enough to draw up the front side, from my window-centric position, and dropped the back three sides all the way to the floor. She had put lights behind the parachute, soft and amber. They lit the entire room in a honey-colored glow. The bed was gone, and the space under the parachute was hung with wide strips of cloth, something gauzy and semi-sheer, like a series of veils.

I peered in, trying to find Sharon. The music was playing, soft and sultry, and the streamed veils were shifting and rippling in the light breeze. I thought I saw her as they parted, but just for a moment. I laughed softly, knowing she could hear me. This was so completely sexy.

She danced in a swirl from behind one veil, and in behind another, a closer one, but I had little time to see anything except that she was naked. Now there were fewer veils between us, though, and I could see her vaguely behind the veil, a tease and a promise all in one. She leaned into it, and there was her entire body like a sculpture shaped in fabric, falling gently away from her breasts, nipples barely visible but jutting against the fabric with arousal. She slid down, no doubt enjoying the feel of it on her nipples, then turned slowly, the fabric curving over her hips, then form-fitting her delicious derriere.

She danced back, swaying seductively to the strains of that smoky sax, now lost to view, now a leg and gone, then spinning with her arm arced so she caught up the scarves and left herself clear to see for a few seconds. She looked over her shoulder at me with a toss of her hair, and a smile that would melt steel, before continuing her spin, the scarves falling back down to hide her from me again.

But wait... there... two arms entwined like serpents snaking out between two side-by-side scarves. They danced, like something from a belly dance, then led the body from behind the veils. There was now only one narrow scarf between her and me, and she had moved forward until she was against it, those perfect, perfect breasts on either side of the fabric falling between her legs and settling to accentuate the mound between her legs. Swaying to the music, she slid down, the fabric making a soft silky sound as it slid over her, her eyes dreamy and half-closed. She rose again and I could see her clit against the cloth, protruding as her nipples had earlier. She continued to sway in place, her hands drifting down over her body, across her tummy, one sliding around her hip to caress her bottom, the other slipping in a slow beeline to rub between her legs.

She stretched the fabric tight, outlining herself for me as if it were painted on, her clit, the folds between her lips, all clear to see. She stroked a finger gently up her pussy, pressing the fabric in between her labia. Her clit was even more clearly molded, and she teased it with a finger, feather-light. Her eyes were closed now, and her hips were rocking gently side to side in time with her finger.

She slid two fingers under the cloth, and I could see them dip in for lubrication, deeply stroking herself inside for a moment, then sliding out, one on either side of her clit. I could see on the cloth where it had been between her lips, damp and dark. She was really wet. Her fingers were moving with more purpose, but I had seen her when she was trying to make herself cum, and she wasn't. She was working herself up, but not over. Never losing the rhythm, of either the music or her fingers, she danced her way toward me, her eyes now locked on mine, the fabric sliding up higher and higher the closer she came.

And then, there she was, the fabric no longer covering her, her fingers dancing over her clit a mere meter from my eyes. It was only when I noticed her eyes between my legs that I realized I had freed myself from my pants and given in to stroking. Fingering herself in time with my slow stroking, she closed the gap between us, her pussy now just through the window from me. She spread herself for me, stroking with her middle finger just inside herself, then leaning back so that she was thrust toward me, she spread her lips wide, inviting my tongue. I leaned and licked her hard, dipping in then sliding my tongue up over her clit, then leaned back watching the smile on her face. She opened her eyes, and looked at me, a kind of soft-focused look that barely made any attempt to hide its arousal.

Holding out her hand to help me in the window, she lifted the other and sucked on her fingers, smiling into my eyes. I noticed she had put a small stool outside to make it easier.

God, she was gorgeous... standing there naked in the amber light, still sucking gently on a finger. She helped me out of my clothes, which sounds ordinary put like that, but was not ordinary in any way. She never touched without caressing, her hand smoothing down over my ass as the pants fell away, freeing them from my feet, sliding her hand softly up the inside of my thigh — shiver —then cupping my balls in her hand before standing and taking me in her arms.

We were dancing, or kissing, or both, and she was leading. I let her, since I wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything to take the initiative away from her. This was her party. We swayed, as close as we could be, through the veils. She was making a point of dancing us around so that they would caress us both, sometimes in passing, sometimes wrapping us both in one, but always moving toward the back of the room. Then I saw why. The bed was gone, but there was a large mat behind the veils, covered in satin.

Here I finally took the initiative, kissing my way down her body till I was kneeling between her thighs, a nuzzle and a soft lick —holy, was she ever wet—and then she was pushing me down till I was lying on my back on the mat. She settled to straddle me, her eyes never leaving mine, taking my cock in her hand and gently guiding it in just between her lips, then slowly, excruciatingly but so delectably slowly, impaling herself on me, here eyes closing part-way as she did. She moaned softly, rose just as slowly, then took me deep inside her again.

It was slow-motion at its best, feeling every millimeter of her vagina slipping around me. She was holding her breath as she took me in, then rocking slowly side to side to take me deeper, before exhaling with a slight shudder before she rose up my length again. Her fingers were on her clit now, their movement a faster counterpoint to the slow fuck, but it was ultimately the rhythm of her fingers that won out. The slow pace was wonderful, but her coming orgasm drew her faster, which drew me faster as well. It was plunge and slide, the slides slower than the plunges, but the pace always faster.

She was moaning on the exhales, catching fast breaths between them, her fingers faster and faster on her clit. She was so tight, so warm and wet, and I could feel my climax coming hard. I wanted to hold off, wished for a second she would slow down, but she was beyond stopping now. She was starting to buck a little, panting with short gasps and moans alternating. I could feel her muscles tensing around me as she closed her eyes tight, pushing herself toward her orgasm, and then it broke like a dam over her, and any thought I had of holding off became pointless, as if I could have anyway. She came so hard it made me gasp as it pulled me headlong into my own, exploding inside her in a seemingly endless eruption. I couldn't believe how overwhelming my orgasm was. But then, I'd only been watching her drive me mad for eight hours today. It was a miracle she didn't set me off with her first touch.

I could feel her throbbing around me as her breathing finally slowed, and she settled down on top of me. We lay like that for a while before I rolled us onto our sides, kissing her softly as I did. Her smile would have melted me if the orgasm hadn't already done such a good job of it. I don't know how long we lay in each other’s arms, just feeling each other breathe before we drifted off to sleep. Perhaps even a couple of minutes.

When I awoke in the morning, she was again gone. The note this time simply said: