CHAPTER 14
“Jane! Is my suitcase in here?” I yell from the walk in closet in my bedroom. “Janey!” Shit, she either can’t hear me or is ignoring me. I leave the bedroom and walk down one flight of stairs to the office. “Jane, did you hear me?” She’s sitting at her desk with her arms folded, shooting daggers at me.
“Yes, I did hear you. Why are you yelling at me? I already told you that I’d have your bags packed for you.” She is clearly miffed at my attitude.
I sigh and yank on my hair in frustration. “I know, I’m sorry.” I slump down on the couch. “I guess I’m just nervous.” I glance up at Jane. Her body is turned toward me and her mouth is hanging open. “What?” I ask.
She smiles at me. “I just never would have thought. I’m gone one weekend and you’ve turned into a complete wreck over a girl.” Jane claps her hands together in satisfaction.
“Why are you so happy that I’m a freaking mess?” I rub my hand down my face, exhausted from my freaking out.
“Because, Drew. It means you’re in love. And that makes me happy for you.” She moves from her desk chair to sit next to me on the couch and pats my knee with her hand. “I’ve known you a long time, and you’ve always been pretty much alone. Trapped by your fame, untrusting of others because of it. I’m glad you’ve found someone worthy of you. You’re a great person, Drew.” Jane reaches around me and gives me a hug. Besides Sydney, she’s the only person who can leave me speechless.
“Now,” she continues, “go finish looking over those scripts that I left on your desk. I’ll take care of the rest. Your schedule for California will be emailed to you sometime while you’re gone so be sure to check your inbox.” She pats my knee one last time and gets up, leaving me alone.
Surprisingly, I’m able to focus for a few hours and read two scripts. One isn’t for me, but I’d be more than willing to help produce it if we found the right lead. The other I find extremely intriguing. I put it in Jane’s box with a post-it note that says ‘this one’ on it in my chicken scratch handwriting.
After finishing with the scripts, I return a few calls, one to my agent Quentin Adair, to finish up a few loose ends regarding the release of A Soldier’s Burden. Then I call Rhys Porter, the head of my public relations team, to discuss the premieres and a few magazine interviews that I’ll have to do for the movie. Thankfully, he can schedule them all while I’m in California shooting Mind of the Enemy, so I won’t have to make a special trip out there for the photo shoots or worry about them once I’m back home.
Apparently the buzz for our little independent movie about an Army Special Forces soldier whose unit is torn apart by a friendly fire incident, is growing exponentially. He expects that after our limited release, it will hit over 1,000 theaters the following month. That’s huge for a film with a budget as small as ours.
Finishing up my calls, I decide to text Sydney. Not seeing her today is just about killing me.
Me <Hey babe. Missing you. Is your day going well?>
I don’t even have to wait a minute for a reply.
Sydney <Better now. Miss u 2. Can’t wait for tomorrow>
Smiling, I make sure she knows not to try to haul her stuff downstairs by herself.
Me <Me too. Be there at 6am. I’ll come up to help with your bags>
Yes, I know I’m bossy but I can’t have her struggling while I’m sitting in the car like a spoiled baby.
Sydney <OK. See you then>
Good, she’s not arguing with me about the suitcases like she did about the ride home from my place the other morning. She’s catching on that I’m going to take care of her. I quickly type out my response.
Me <Yes, yes you will. >
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough for me.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes, just wait here for us,” I say to Bruce as I leave the car and hustle across the dark sidewalk into Sydney’s building. It’s so early that I have to buzz the concierge to get in, but she left my name with the front desk. I thank God again that they are as discreet here as they say they are. No one, not even Sydney, has heard a single word about me from any of the employees.
Nerves plague my stomach as I take the elevator up to the 8th floor and I have to lean back on the wall and close my eyes to calm down. I’m starting to doubt my ability to pull this weekend off without Sydney finding out who I am. There are too many variables that I can’t control. Not being in control of any situation that can harm a loved one is my second worst fear. Losing Sydney has become my worst. This trip has the potential to expose me to both.
“Get your shit together, Forrester,” I mutter to myself as I step up to unit 8A and knock. The door flies open almost immediately, letting me know that I’m not the only one who’s anxious this morning. Sydney stands in the foyer, slightly breathless either from exertion or lust. From the dark look she’s giving me, I’d say lust is a good bet.
That look starts me fantasizing about tearing off her clothes and throwing her down on the hardwood floor of her loft which makes me smile, and unfortunately, instantly hard. “Hello, Sydney,” I say as I stride across the threshold and pull her against me, playing with fire by touching her when we’re both clearly thinking the same thing.
“Hello, Drew,” Sydney groans against my mouth.
She makes me so hot that I can’t help myself, I wrap my hands under her tight ass and pull her into the hard ridge in my jeans. God, she’s making me harder just by saying my name. The now familiar feeling of rampant, overwhelming desire takes over, trying to crowd out all of my other thoughts. I attempt to step back and put some space between us, but Sydney isn’t having it. She stands on her toes so she can take my lip in her mouth and begins sucking on it erotically.
Fuck! I literally won’t be able to stop myself if she keeps doing shit like that.
“Sydney, as much as I want to throw you down and surround myself with you, we have to go.” Frowning, I unhook her arms from behind my neck and run my hands through my hair in frustration. I try to ignore the disappointed look on her face by scooping up her bags. “Is this everything?”
Sydney puts on her coat and glances up at me, the same frustration I’m feeling is mirrored on her beautiful face. “Yes, it’s everything. I’m ready.”
As I turn for the door, I see her expression change in my peripheral vision. She’s nervous. I can see it in her clear blue eyes as easily as if I’m reading the words from a script. I decide not to say anything about it, not wanting to start a discussion that may make her decide to stay behind. Instead, I take her bags over to the elevator and push the call button.
I’m waiting for the doors to open when I look back at Sydney, standing a few feet away from me in the hall. She is quite obviously checking me out, her eyes roaming up and down my body as she bites her lower lip.
Smiling, I can’t resist teasing her. “Like what you see, Miss Allen?”
She surprises me yet again. Instead of blushing like I expect, Sydney walks up to me and sensuously drags her tongue over my dimple. I inhale sharply at the contact and flinch when the sensation hits my already frustrated dick.
Sydney steps back and runs her eyes in an exaggerated motion down to the bulge in my pants. “Why yes, Mr. Forrester, I definitely like what I see,” She purrs as she licks her lips suggestively.
Oh baby, we’re going to have a lot of fun this weekend.
“Me too, Miss Allen. Me too.”
Out front on the sidewalk it’s still dark out and I don’t want to chance being recognized, so I drop Sydney’s bags by the trunk for Bruce to load up and usher her into the back seat. After she gets in, I slide in next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders so I can bring her close. I hadn’t noticed how good she smelled upstairs in her place. Now, in the car, the orange and floral body wash mixed with the scent I now know is unique to Sydney, surrounds me. It drives me crazy to sit next to her and not be able to have her.
Sydney stops my wandering thoughts when she speaks. “So, where to? JFK, Newark, La Guardia? Or is it a surprise?”
Hmmm, she’s actually asking me a question? That’s a first.
“No, not a surprise, Sydney. We’re taking a flight out of Teterboro straight to the Gustave airport on St. Bart’s. A car will take us to my friend’s house about ten minutes away, and what we do next is up to us.” I whisper the last part as I stare at her, eager to see her reaction. She doesn’t disappoint, her lips part and her thighs tense up.
She’s going to kill me if she keeps looking at me like that.
“So we’re taking a private jet then?” Her blush is gone and apprehension takes its place.
Is there anything that doesn’t freak this girl out? Now I’m worried she’ll bolt if I answer wrong and I have no idea what the right answer is. “It’s a private jet, yes. There’s not really another way to get to the island without a bunch of flight changes. It’s the easiest way… is that okay?”
Don’t flip out and leave me.
“It’s fine,” Sydney fires back at me. I have no clue why she’s acting pissed. Is it the jet? Then, just as sudden as her freak out started, she puts her small hand on my knee and her features soften. “Really, it’s wonderful. Thank you for inviting me. I’m really excited.”
Something’s wrong. She’s smiling but it isn’t touching her eyes. In an attempt to make her feel better, I pull her close and press a kiss to her head.
The rest of the ride to the airport is silent. I’m afraid of saying something that will freak out Sydney and she’s probably sitting there afraid of whatever the fuck it is that scares her. We stop in front of Chad’s huge, white and gold, fourteen-passenger Gulfstream. I feel Sydney’s body go rigid in my arms.
Shit, this was a bad idea. Bruce opens Sydney’s door and helps her out of the car. I quickly jump out of my side and hurry around to guide her up the stairs of the plane. She’s smiling at least, so I’m able to relax a little.
The flight attendant takes our coats and thankfully, doesn’t do or say anything to make me uncomfortable. She’s part of Chad’s staff, so I’m sure she’s seen plenty of celebrities before. Plus, I had Jane call and speak to all of Chad’s employees about pretending I’m just a ‘normal’ guy. I didn’t trust Chad to do it himself, it’s too important to me and he kept laughing at my situation. “Please sit anywhere, we’ll be departing in a few minutes,” the attendant named Gail says, then heads for the cockpit.
We step into the cabin and I watch as Sydney takes in the plush interior. I’m used to the way she scrutinizes every space she enters, the designer in her taking everything in. I walk over to the couch on one side of the cabin and motion for Sydney to sit. No way am I letting her sit in a chair across from me for four hours. Unable to keep my hands off of her, I reach over her lap and grab her seatbelt as soon as she sits down. “Safety first, Miss Allen,” I joke as I snap the belt together. Her eyes get heavy and she leans toward me. I’m about to claim her gorgeous mouth when Bruce comes pounding up the stairs with our luggage, ruining the moment.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I told Jane I wasn’t available for any calls this weekend. Everything should be done via email until I get back. Irritated, I yank it out and check it, scowling when I see it’s a text from Damien.
Damien <Have fun pretty boy! Hope your chick doesn’t own your balls by the time you get back!>
Nice. What an asshole. You’d think your friends would support you when you’re trying to land the girl of your dreams. But I’ll admit, I have been acting strange lately and they probably have no idea what to make of it. I type a quick response not wanting to be rude to Sydney but knowing if I don’t answer he’ll just keep texting me.
Me <If you knew more about this girl, you’d want her to have your balls...>
There. I shove the phone back into my pocket and lean back into the seat.
“Is everything alright?” Her bright blue eyes are wide with concern.
God she’s so fucking sweet. “I’m with you, everything is perfect.” I’m unable to stop from smiling like a total idiot. Damien’s right, I’m totally whipped by this girl and I don’t even care.
Gail brings us breakfast once we’re in the air. I told them to keep it light since I wasn’t sure if Sydney was prone to airsickness. She places egg-white omelets with fruit on our trays and then comes out with my surprise. It takes Sydney a moment to notice that Gail is bringing us coffee from her favorite shop, the one where I ran into her, or stalked her, depends on the definition. When her eyes bug out and her mouth drops open in shock, I feel kind of stupid. Maybe it’s too much. It’s fucking embarrassing.
“I had them stop by the café this morning so we could have it with our meal,” I attempt to say casually. I don’t want her to think it’s some huge thing if she’s freaked out by it.
“It’s perfect Drew. You’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. It’s a little over the top, but I can get used to over the top.” I exhale the breath I was holding, glad that she doesn’t think I’m an idiot. Then Sydney smiles at me like I fucking hung the moon and I freeze. She’s so unbelievably beautiful. How is she not already taken?
“Mmmmmm.”
My attention snaps up from my plate to her mouth. The sexy sound that comes out of her gets me instantly hard. Her perfect lips are pressed together and her eyes are closed as she swallows a sip of the coffee. I stare at those full, pink lips and imagine them wrapped around my cock again … Shit! I have to stop it. I can’t take her back to the bedroom and fuck her senseless, can I?
I force my attention back up to her eyes and notice that she’s gone completely still, staring at me as I stare at her. She wants it too, but she’s way too good for a quick fuck in the back of a plane. That doesn’t mean I can’t play.
I reach over to take her cup from her, purposely brushing the side of my hand over one of the tight little nipples that I can see through her shirt, and I’m rewarded with a discreet gasp. Then I move my hand to cup her face and using as much control as I can possibly manage, I lean in and lightly trace her lips with my tongue, holding back from taking the deep, consuming kiss that I desire.
“I do tend to go big or go home, so you definitely need to get used to me acting over the top.” I have to stop touching her to keep from ripping her clothes off right here on this couch. “I cannot wait to get you alone, Sydney. You are driving me insane. I need to be inside you, soon.”
I sit back when Gail comes back into the cabin to clear our plates. Crap, I desperately need to adjust my hard on, but I don’t want to be obvious about it. Instead, I turn sideways and flip open the armrest where Chad has his ridiculously expensive sound system control panel. I’m able to shift my junk while I scroll down and select a tropical playlist. When I turn back, I see a confused look on Sydney’s face as the music comes over the speakers. Shrugging, I tell her, “I just wanted to prepare us properly for our vacation.”
“Trust me, Drew. I’m more than ready to start the weekend, but the music is a nice touch, very smooth. So tell me…” Sydney says as she takes a deep breath and makes a weird face, like she might puke or pass out or both, “what kind of work do you do that allows you to take private jets to exclusive tropical islands?”
Holy shit! She’s actually asking something personal about me? I thought it would take for-fucking-ever to get to this point with Miss Evasive. Unable to stop the smirk from appearing on my face, I decide to go the indirect route. Maybe I’ll get more insight from her reaction instead of from my answer. “I have to admit, Sydney, I didn’t really think you liked personal questions very much.” I watch her face carefully for her response.
I feel like a dick as her adorable face falls, then pales. I hope I didn’t just fuck this all up with my stupidity. “I don’t,” she says, “when they’re directed at me. I’m a very private person… usually. But I’m finding myself in an odd situation.”
She’s actually talking to me, and unbelievably, she’s opening up. I’m not going to waste this opportunity by simply answering her question… yet. Maybe I can get more out of her, like why she won’t fucking tell me a single thing about herself. “What situation is that?” I ask, knowing I may be pushing her too hard, too soon.
Sydney squirms in her seat before answering. “I ummmm, well… I guess I just really want to know a little more about you. That’s rare for me.”
It worked!
A huge smile spreads across my face. I’m finally breaking through her giant fucking wall and getting to her! I can’t help but tease her. “So what you’re saying is, I’m special?”
I’m rewarded with an adorable eye roll and her heart-stopping laugh. “You make it sound so dorky, but yes, I guess you are. So…are you going to answer my question?”
I can’t answer your question, gorgeous. Because then you might leave me, and I can’t let you do that. Especially since I have no clue why you would run if I told you the truth. I try to form my words to be as honest as possible about movie making without scaring her away with my Hollywood shit.
“I freelance, so my work varies with each project I take on. I’m what you could call an … independent investor. I invest in projects, sometimes I direct them, sometimes I have a more hands-on role, and sometimes I just hand over money and wait for a return on my investment. The amount of input I have over each project varies. It’s actually pretty damn complicated sometimes, but fun.”
I watch her face crumple in confusion and disappointment.
Fuck, I’m such a dick.
“Huh. So you’re an investor? Like in companies?”
She wants to know me, probably the only person she’s ever let past that tough exterior, and I fucking lie to her. But I just can’t risk losing her. It’s too soon to tell her anything.
“Sort of,” I explain. How in the hell do I say this? “I’ll hear about a money making investment, usually through a contact or a previous client, then I research it to see if it’s worth the time and money, and go from there. Sometimes it just needs funding to get whatever the client needs off of the ground, sometimes I work on every aspect including marketing. It’s a wide range of possibilities.” I conclude as I give her the most pathetic explanation ever for how a movie gets made.
She looks so lost, and sad. “That’s…. interesting,” is all she can manage to come up with to my whitewashed description of my job.
Now I have to drop a real bomb on her. “It’s okay, Sydney. I know it sounds confusing, but that’s the best way I know to explain it to you right now. The downside of my work is that I travel quite a bit. Some projects are in different states, some in different countries. That’s actually why I wanted to go away with you this weekend. I leave for California at the end of next week, and have to be on site for five or six weeks.” More disappointment appears on her face, which I fucking hate doing to her, but at least it means she doesn’t want me to go and might miss me a little while I’m gone.
“Oh. I guess I never really thought about whether or not you traveled for your job. I mean, I don’t usually worry about things like that. Crap, that’s not what I mean. I’m sorry; I’m really new at this whole dating thing. I mean, we are dating, right?” She smacks her forehead in frustration, embarrassed by her rambling. “Okay, tell me if I just screwed this all up.”
God she’s so fucking cute. She’s afraid to label us as dating because she doesn’t want to freak me out. How would she react if she knew I would marry her right here and now?
I lean in and kiss her gorgeous mouth. “I’d like to think we’re dating, if that’s okay with you?”
And I’m pathetically and hopelessly in love with you.
I watch her reaction to make sure she’s okay. “And you haven’t screwed anything up, Sydney. I should have told you about my trip sooner. I just didn’t want to scare you away. Plus I hope to be able to come back to New York several times during the six weeks, so with any luck you’ll be willing to see me when I’m home.”
Sydney gives me a small smile. “Well, you’re not wearing your hat to bring you luck, but I’m sure you don’t need it.” She looks down at her hands. Her voice drops to a near whisper, “Of course I want to see you Drew. That’s all I seem to think about these days.”
I can’t stand not touching her anymore. I don’t give a shit about Gail, or my raging hard-on. I reach over and unbuckle her seatbelt and pull her onto my lap. Jesus, she feels so good and fits right on top of me. “Me too,” I admit as I take her delicious mouth and spend the rest of the flight tasting it.