CHAPTER 15
We land on St. Bart’s on a terrifyingly short runway with the bright turquoise ocean gleaming at the end. Gail opens the door and the salty smell of the sea surrounds us as we walk down onto the hot pavement. It’s perfect here. Warm, ocean breeze, gorgeous girl on my arm… I couldn’t be happier if I tried.
Chad’s caretaker, Philippe, gets out of his Mini-Moke, a Jeep-like car I’ve heard about but never actually seen in person. Chad was supposed to tell this guy not to act weird around me or say anything about who I am, so he better not fuck this up.
Philippe introduces himself to Sydney then to me, shaking my hand just a little too long for me to be a normal person. The dude is super-cheerful, with short tufts of gray hair, and is way, way too tan. He grabs our stuff out of the plane and I help Sydney into the back seat of the open top Moke. I can’t ride around in this thing without my disguise, so I get my Sox hat out of my bag and pull it down low.
When I climb in next to Syd she bursts out laughing at the sight of my hat. Nice, she thinks I’m an idiot with hideous fashion sense, which I find quite charming. I grin at her. “What? I know you said I don’t need luck, but it can’t hurt.”
Philippe starts the Moke and takes us to Chad’s villa. He describes a bunch of stuff about the island, but I could care less. I’m too busy watching Sydney take in the surroundings, her long auburn hair whipping around her face as we wind through the tropical greenery. When Philippe points out some wild peacocks, I think Sydney’s going to fall out of her seat she’s so excited. I laugh to myself at her reaction. She’s so happy and carefree, as if the island has lifted a huge burden from her weighted down shoulders. Her outright joy is contagious.
I’m so fucking gone.
When we pull into the gravel driveway of Chad’s house, the nervousness from this morning comes back full force. What if this Philippe guy left movie shit all over the house? If Sydney sees it, she’ll freak out and he seems like a little bit of an idiot.
I hear a banging sound and see Philippe struggling, he’s already opening the front door and bringing our bags into the house. It’s like this guy is on speed or something he’s so damn quick. I need to get him alone and make sure he took care of everything.
Sydney and I step into the huge open kitchen behind Philippe, who’s nowhere in sight. While she’s looking at everything I lean in and give her a quick kiss. “Wait here a minute, I’m going to chat with Philippe.” She nods and I hurry after the caretaker and find him in the master bedroom, placing our bags on the bed.
“Hey, Philippe, can we talk for a minute?” I corner the really tan, really happy guy in the bedroom.
“Of course, Mr. Forrester, what can I do for you?” He stands there looking way too fucking delighted to listen to me bitch at him.
“I need to make sure all of Chad’s movie stuff is out of sight. He said he explained to you the importance of getting rid of it all.”
Philippe nods and starts to leave the bedroom. Fuck dude! I can’t talk about this shit in front of Sydney. “Yes, I got all of it. No worries.”
Like I’m not going to worry that the fate of my relationship with the woman I love is in this weirdo’s hands. “You’re sure you got all of it?” I ask, trailing after him down the hall.
“Yes, yes. All of it.” Philippe responds as he continues to walk back toward the kitchen.
“And you put it all in the office, correct?”
“Yes.” He stops to give me a funny look, clearly starting to think I’m either OCD or crazy as he hurries back to Sydney. I watch him pull a key out of his pocket and place it on the countertop. Then he quickly shows us a map of the area. “Here are some additional phone numbers you may need.” Philippe points to a list on the refrigerator. “The fridge and pantry are stocked, let me know if you need anything, day or night. My number is on the list.” He shakes Syd’s hand then mine and leaves.
“Well, Philippe is…” Sydney says.
I want to say ‘a twitchy fuck’ but I stick to saying, “Interesting?” instead.
“That’s one way of putting it, I suppose,” she responds. We both crack up at Philippe’s expense.
I hold out my hand and ask her if she wants to see the house. She takes it without hesitation, and threads her fingers through mine. I have to admit, Chad has great taste. The house is massive, with comfortable furniture. My favorite part is the huge deck. I start imagining all the things I can do with Sydney on one of the plush double lounge chairs.
Gently tugging on her hand, I lead Sydney across the hardwood deck. “This is even better than I imagined,” I tell her as I yank her down with me onto one of those tempting chairs, making her squeak in surprise.
“You’ve never been here?” She asks, looking somewhat confused. Did I tell her I’ve been here before? I don’t think I did, but she’s acting like I have.
“No, I haven’t. Why?”
“I’m not sure, I just assumed. You said the owner was a friend, I don’t know why I thought that.” Oh, she made her own assumptions because she never asked me any details about this house or the trip. Just like she never asks me any other questions. Or answers them.
“The owner is a friend, as well as a business partner in some of my investments. But I work a lot, and haven’t had the opportunity to just take off and come here. I don’t get to take a lot of vacations.” I don’t need to tell her that she’s the first girl I’ve wanted to spend this much time with since I was a teenager. It would probably freak her the fuck out.
“Yet you’re here with me, I assumed you brought all the girls you date here.” She gives me a fake smile to hide her embarrassment.
Now this line of questioning makes sense. She wants to know if this is something I do a lot, seduce beautiful women and bring them here for a weekend of sex. “No, no other girls, Sydney. Just you. You make me want to take time off from work.” I push her down on the poolside chair and roll her hot little body underneath mine. My tortured cock responds immediately.
“Miss Allen, I do believe we’re wearing too many clothes for this tropical heat. What do you say we fix that?”
I can’t wait any longer to have her. Sitting next to her for four hours on that plane nearly killed me. My fingers are literally itching to touch her skin. I lean my head down and bite along her slender neck, her scent, amplified by the hot sun is driving me mad with lust.
She moans and throws her head back so I can have better access to her throat. Her voice is raspy and needy, “Mr. Forrester, I couldn’t agree more.”
That’s all I need to hear from her to ignite the throbbing that I’ve been trying to ignore since I walked through her front door and she gave me her fuck-me eyes. I pull off my coat and throw it on a nearby chair and quickly shuck my shoes and socks.
Sydney is lying on the lounge chair, watching me with her wide blue eyes like I’m the predator and she’s waiting for me to pounce. She probably didn’t think I’d want to do this right here, right now, outside in the open. I can see the hesitation written on her face. She’s so easy to read sometimes, not good at schooling her features like I do so well. I also see desire, it’s rolling off of her in waves. Her gorgeous lips are parted slightly, her nipples are hard and straining against her shirt, and she keeps shifting uncomfortably on the chair as I undress.
Fuck, she is so fucking sexy.
Done waiting, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it off. She doesn’t stop me or offer to help. Then I yank off my own shirt and toss it carelessly to the ground. Still standing next to her chair, I extend a hand to Sydney and she takes, letting me pull her to her feet. When I step close enough for our bodies to touch, she gazes up at me and the look she gives me makes me want to drop to my knees and worship every inch of her perfect body.
Instead, I unfasten her jeans and lower them to the ground, then do the same with mine. I groan at the sight of her, my dick actually hurts from it. It takes everything in me to not just throw her down and fuck her senseless on that inviting lounge chair. She’s better than that though, because I wouldn’t last long and she’s looking up at me with trusting eyes. A trust I know she doesn’t give away easily, a trust that makes me want to take care of her, protect her, satisfy her completely.
“Want to go for a swim?” I ask, staring down at her, my voice husky from desire.
“Yes.”
That one little word gives me the go ahead to touch her, something I’ve been dying to do. The fire building inside of me urges me to step out of my tight boxer briefs to release my aching cock from its prison. I watch Sydney’s gaze skim down my body and land right on it. Her eyes get dark and she licks her lips hungrily. I don’t think she even knows that she’s doing it.
Christ, I need to see her. I reach out and slowly pull down the little scrap of lace that she calls underwear and unhook her bra. God, she’s fucking perfect. I want to bury myself in her and never come out.
I hold out my hand and she takes it, letting me lead her into the warm water. Once we’re in the cool water, I push her against the edge of the pool, trapping her between my arms. She meets my gaze, but she’s nervous, like something heavy is weighing down on her.
I know she won’t tell me what it is, so I do the only thing my fuzzy, sex-addled brain can think of; I press the length of me against her soft body and kiss her like it’s the last kiss I’ll ever have. Our tongues tangle and I suck on hers gently. When she moans, it drives me crazy with desire. My dick is as hard as a fucking rock. I can’t take her in the pool, without a condom, so I have to stop.
I’m barely strong enough to push away from her and swim to the other side of the pool.
“What’s wrong?” She has a hurt look on her gorgeous face. Water is dripping from her hair, running in rivulets to her pink lips, swollen from our kisses.
Shit, she thinks she did something wrong.
“Nothing’s wrong Sydney, I just want you so badly and I can’t have you in the pool.” My voice is strained. I rub my hand down my face in frustration.
She swims over and wraps her arms and long legs around me, every part of her making contact with every part of me.
“Then let’s get out,” she says. Mesmerized, I watch her tongue dart out and hold my breath as she leans in and licks from my neck up to my ear.
Shuddering, I grip her ass and walk up the stairs and over to a huge double lounge chair, collapsing on it with her beneath me. “You’re amazing,” I tell her as I reach down for my discarded pants and pull out a condom.
Driven by a singular goal, I rip the package open and roll the damn thing on as quickly as I can. Sydney, dripping water from the pool, moaning and writhing naked under me isn’t helping my concentration so I fumble before getting it on right.
Once I’m ready, I reach down and run my hand over her slit. “God Sydney, you’re so wet.”
“I want you Drew,” she whispers in her sexy fucking voice. Sydney hooks a leg over my hip and pushes down, encouraging me to hurry up. Christ, she’s killing me. My resolve shatters and I can’t wait any longer. Shifting my weight, I press into her slowly, wanting to feel every inch as it sinks into her hot tight depths.
“Jesus,” I groan as I start to move on top of her. The slick water on our skin, the warm sun beating down on us, her scent magnified in the heat… I’ve never felt so alive during sex.
Fascinated, I watch as she bites her bottom lip and her eyes roll up in her head while each slow thrust pulls a husky moan from her throat. She can close her eyes this time, but next time I want her to watch as I fuck her. I lean in and taste her swollen mouth. I can’t get enough of her, I don’t think I ever will.
“Drew,” she cries out as I thrust harder and nearly burst at the sound of my name on her lips. She starts to spasm around my cock and I know she’s there. With Sydney pulling me with her, a jolt of white hot pleasure streaks down my spine and I join her in falling over the edge.
It takes us a minute to catch our breath, then I roll to the side, afraid that I’m crushing her. She’s so tiny, I’m sure my weight isn’t easy for her to bear.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“Famished,” she responds with a brilliant smile, not seeming to give a damn about having been trapped underneath me.
After our very satisfying workout, we decide to make a grilled chicken salad for lunch. Sydney has already admitted that she can’t cook, so I show her how to make the salad while I manage the grill. I can barely focus on the food as she struts around the kitchen in a barely there yellow bikini, miles of her creamy flesh exposed for my visual pleasure. I just had her twenty minutes ago and my dick is hard again already.
Shit! Stop thinking about sex, Forrester.
I’m taking the chicken off of the grill when I hear her speak to me from inside. “So your friend, where does he live? Is he in New York? I’d love to meet him and find out who decorated this place.”
Cautiously balancing the plate of chicken, I walk through the open living area and bring the it into the kitchen.
“Chad lives in L.A,” I answer as approach her.
When I lean against the large island next to her scattered bowls of salad ingredients, I realize that she hasn’t listened to a word I’ve said. My focus flicks up to her face and I instantly recognize that look in her eyes. She’s checking me out, her gaze roving up and down my body. In a hurry to make something to eat, I threw on just a loose pair of shorts and Sydney’s greedy eyes are currently all over my chest and abs.
“What? Who’s Chad?” She snaps out of her daydream with a confused look on her face.
It’s too tempting to pass up. I smirk at Sydney and put the plate of chicken on the countertop, having decided to mess with her. I lean in close, so close that I can smell her flushed skin and the scent of sex from our tryst.
“Were you just eye-fucking me, Miss Allen?”
I lean back and watch amused, as she turns a million different shades of red before quickly turning her focus back to the lettuce that she’s tearing apart and tossing onto plates. “Ummmm, I’m not sure what you mean,” she sputters.
She was definitely eye-fucking me.
Certain that my presence has affected her, I slowly reach my arm in front of her and grab a piece of fruit out of a bowl on the other side of Sydney, making sure that my naked upper body brushes against her exposed skin. I toss it in my mouth I speak quietly, whispering into her ear and smiling when I see a small shiver escape.
“Okay, we can play it that way, Sydney,” I drawl. Laughing, I start chopping the chicken, satisfied that I’ve wound her up as much as I always am when she’s near. “Chad, the guy who owns this house, you asked me where he lives and I said Los Angeles.”
“Oh. Where in L.A.?” she asks, her voice a little shaky from my teasing.
A quick splash of vinaigrette and I’ve finished up the salads. Sydney grabs them and spins on her heel, fleeing to the outdoor table to avoid her embarrassment. She’s so fucking cute.
Chuckling, I follow her out with our drinks and put them down as I sit. “Brentwood,” I mumble between bites, answering her previous question.
It’s fascinating to watch her process the information. I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she eats For someone so secretive, she’s very easy to read. Usually, the problem is that even though I might know the emotions she’s feeling, the reason behind them is always a mystery to me.
“Is he involved in the project you have in California?”
“Yes, he’s a principle investor as am I.” God I hate bending the truth to her. “He’ll be on site with me most days. That’s probably why he let us use his villa. He plans on bugging the shit out of me for six weeks and is just trying to butter me up.” This is actually true.
If she only knew what I told Chad about her. I sounded like a complete pussy asking if I could use his house to impress a girl.
Sydney laughs, “Not a bad plan if you ask me.”
“I agree. He’s a pretty smart guy.”
Once we finish eating she picks up our dishes and brings them into the kitchen. We both need a breather, so I grab a couple of beers out of the fridge. “Let’s just relax outside by the pool.”
Sydney smiles and accepts one of the bottles from me. “Sounds great.”
This place is perfect, serene and open, but very private. We walk back outside and watch the sun set over the Caribbean while relaxing on a lounge chair together. Syd tucks herself between my legs and leans back against my chest while we just enjoy each other’s company.
I’m so comfortable with her physically, I just wish she would feel more comfortable with me mentally. She’s so closed off, afraid of being hurt. I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out why she hates celebrity shit so much and all I can come up with is that she used to date someone who dumped her when he made it big.
He’s a fucking douche if that’s what happened, and it better not be that jackhole Reynolds!
My fists are aching to pound his worthless ass into the ground.
After she finishes her beer, Sydney gets up and sits by the edge of the pool, tucking her legs underneath her. Maybe if I tell her about myself, the non-acting stuff, she’ll open up some for me. I’ll take whatever she’ll throw my way, any scrap of information about her would be like a drop of water to a thirsty man.
“So, when I was a kid in Boston, my sister was the biggest pain in my ass. She’s four years younger than me so I started noticing girls when Allie was still a kid. There was this one girl in my class that I liked and Allie knew it. But she was pissed at me over some stupid thing I’d done, so she told the girl that I couldn’t wear deodorant because I was allergic to it. God, it was awful for me at school after that.”
The memories of the crap Allie and I used to do to each other makes me laugh, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it.
“Stop, stop, there’s no way your sister told a girl you liked that you were allergic to deodorant!” Sydney is laughing so hard that she’s clutching her stomach.
“She did, believe me. She lied and told everyone that I couldn’t wear any because it gave me armpit rashes. It was revenge for the time me and my friends hid a walkie-talkie under her bed and made monster noises. She cried every night for a week. We were really mean to her that time.”
“We used to tear it up all over that city. Me and my two best friends, Mike and Matt, would get on our bikes and ride over to Kenmore and catch the Sox at Fenway. Sometimes we’d ditch school to get autographs from our favorite players and see batting practice.”
I’m sure I’m rambling like a starry eyed kid. I tend to lose myself when I talk about the Sox and what they meant to me as a kid. It was all we ever talked about back then, we were all going to play for them one day, together. In Boston, the sun rises and sets over Fenway Park.
“That sounds like so much fun. I didn’t do anything like that growing up. Do you still talk to your friends from home?” She stretches out her long, toned legs and dips them in the pool.
It takes me a minute, but I tear my gaze from Sydney and stare out at the sea, the waves glistening in the light of the moon. I hate talking about what happened to Matt, losing him is probably what started my tendency to be overprotective of my family, but I don’t want to be closed off or she may never talk to me about herself.
“I still talk to Mike. Matt died of cancer when we were in high school. They were brothers.” I try to make it sound like it’s no big deal so she won’t feel bad about asking.
The chair suddenly seems cold and impersonal, so I get up from and move next to her by the pool, wanting to be able to see her face as we talk, needing the intimacy.
“I’m sorry,” she says kindly, placing her soft hand over mine in a comforting way.
“It was a long time ago.” I shrug, tilting back my bottle to drink more beer. Then, Sydney shocks the hell out of me by telling me a story about her childhood.
“In the third grade, Denny Hirschler tried to kiss me by the swings at recess.” Shocked, I look over at her, fascinated to be given a clue to her past. She’s staring dreamily out at the ocean, her eyes not really focusing on anything in particular. “When he puckered up, I reached down and threw a handful of dirt in his face, then ran away.” Her face lights up in a smile, then the corners of her mouth tug down at the memory.
Hmmm, even back then she was reluctant to reveal her feelings. I file that away for future reference.
“It’s your fault for being so kissable.” I lean in and kiss her gently.
Somehow, I know she grew up alone, I don’t even have to ask, but I do anyway just to keep the conversation going. “You don’t have any siblings, do you Sydney.” I avoid looking at her, hoping that she’ll be more willing to talk about herself if I’m not staring expectantly.
“No, I’m an only child.”
God, she sounds so heartbreakingly sad. I turn back to her, upset by her tone of voice. It must freak her out, because she gets up and sits back in the chair, trying to put her walls back up between us.
Fuck that, I’m not letting her get away from me when she’s being so open and agreeable. “You know you don’t have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable?” I stand up and climb behind her on the chair, pulling her back against my chest.
“I know. I’ll let you know if I’m freaking out. I’m sorry I’m so difficult. I…I don’t date much. Part of the whole not wanting to talk about myself hang up I have.”
For about the millionth time I want to find out who fucked up this gorgeous, perfect girl and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. It takes all of my energy to keep my anger from showing. I don’t want to scare Sydney with what my family calls my ‘freakish over-protectiveness’ before she’s ready.
Instead of getting mad, I wrap my arms around her small frame and comfort her. “You’re not difficult, Sydney. Everyone is affected by life’s events differently. When and if you want to tell me what happened to you, I’ll be here. In the meantime, I’m happy just to spend time with you.”
And I am happy just to be with her. Would I love to know everything about her right now? Yes, but if she makes me wait forever I will.
“My parents are divorced. They haven’t spoken in twelve years, and I haven’t seen my dad since then either.”
Holy shit! She just volunteered information about herself! Without me pestering or pulling it out of her. A divorce story isn’t really what I was expecting to hear. Maybe her parents fought over her and dragged her into all of their bullshit. The thought stresses me out. I have to hold in all of the questions I have running through my head to keep her from shutting down.
“That must have been hard; how old were you then?” I decide to go with an easy question first.
“Twelve. Yes, it was very hard. It made me very untrusting, as I’m sure you can tell.”
There she goes again, pointing out how fucked up she thinks she is.
“I think you’re perfect,” I say as I brush my lips across her shoulder.
Sydney turns to look at me, her pupils dilating when our eyes connect. “I don’t think I feel like talking anymore.” She slides her hand down my abs and over my growing dick. I don’t know if she’s trying to distract me or not, but right now I don’t care.
This girl is going to kill me.
“Me either.” Desire shoved every other thought out of my head the second her hand brushed across the front of my pants.
Determined, I scoop her up in my arms and stalk into the bedroom. I’m going to find out whether or not she likes one of the kinds of control that I enjoy. I lay her down on the giant bed and climb over her writhing body, not letting any part of our skin touch, drawing out the torture.
“Drew,” she moans, and the raw sound of her voice turns my cock into steel.
Sydney tries as hard as she can to join her hips with mine, desperately wanting the friction it would provide. Smiling, I lean down and tease her with my mouth, licking and tasting every bit of her lips.
“Please, I need you.” she groans into my mouth. Begging is so fucking sexy on her.
My teasing is working. If I get her worked up enough, she’ll let me have my way with her. Frantic, Sydney clamps her long, athletic legs around my waist and attempts to pull me down to her. Fuck that if she thinks she’s taking control of this situation. Instead of giving her what she wants, I run my lips up and down her neck, driving her wild with longing. I chuckle against her skin when she moans in frustration at my barely-there touches.
“Patience, Sydney. I want to savor you. I can’t get enough of your skin, your smell, the feel of your body. Let’s discover everything about each other.” Plus, there’s no way I’m giving in so easy when I’ve got her like this.
I hook a finger in one triangle of yellow fabric and yank it aside, revealing a perfect pink nipple. Shit, my dick is fucking killing me right now it’s so hard. I lick and bite and tease her until she’s panting and arching into me. Then I pull down the other side.
Fuck, she’s so fucking gorgeous. It’s taking everything I have to not just rip off her scrap of a bathing suit and sink into her right now.
I untie her top and throw it somewhere, I don’t really care where it ends up at this point. “So beautiful,” I whisper as I taste her swollen lips again. I can’t take it, I have to see her completely naked.
I drop to the side of the bed, kneeling on the floor so I can remove the bottom of her bikini. Thank God it has ties on either side or I’d probably ruin it by tearing it off. I fling it aside and expose everything to my insatiable eyes.
Christ, her wet, pink pussy is calling out to me. “I need to taste you,” I tell her as I shove her legs apart and slide my tongue over her addictive slit. “Jesus, Sydney.” It’s fucking addictive, and I know without a doubt as I taste her that she’s the only woman I’ll ever want.
I attack her clit and swirl my tongue around it until she’s breathing hard and moaning non-stop, scrabbling to grab on to anything to ground herself, the sheets, my shoulders, my hair. When I know she’s close I thrust two fingers into her tight passage and pump them in and out, finding that sensitive rough spot inside. The reaction I get from her is instant and volatile.
“Oh God, Drew!” She loses control as she screams and bucks up and down on the bed.
I can’t tear my eyes from her, watching her come apart. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She gazes down and our eyes lock, sending her over the edge.
“Don’t stop, I’m going to come!”
I continue torturing her as her pussy convulses around my fingers and I lick her sweetness until she practically passes out on the bed.
Now she’s ready to see how I like to fuck. Hard and fast and demanding. I stand up at the foot of the bed and grab her calves, yanking her toward me so her ass is on the edge of the mattress.
“I’m not done exploring you yet, Miss Allen,” I tell her as I roll on a condom. I see her eyes pop open at the gruff tone of my voice. Then her gaze drops down my body and finds my hard cock, she licks her lips and her thick lashes flutter wildly.
Fuck, she likes it when I’m bossy. This girl has no idea how bossy I can be when I’m given free rein. I take her ankles and put them up on my shoulders as I stand between her legs next to the bed.
My cock positioned at her opening, I stare down at her flushed and sweaty face. “Are you ready for me baby? I want to fuck you…hard.”
I hear her gasp when I say that and my dick jumps. My control is just about shredded, she’s getting it whether or not she answers me.
“Yes, take me Drew.”
Jesus, those words sound so fucking hot coming out of her sweet mouth. I savor them for a moment, closing my eyes and running them through my head again. When I open my eyes I’m done. She’s watching me with a carnal look on her face, practically begging me to fuck her.
You got it baby. I roughly grab on to her hips and thrust into her, harshly and without any warning.
“Ahhhh.” A groan escapes her lips as I feel her slick warmth wrap around my cock. I almost come just from one fucking second inside her. Hard as a rock and threatening to lose it, I struggle with my control before I can focus on Sydney again. When I do, her eyes have rolled back into her head in ecstasy.
Oh sweetheart, we can’t have that. “Look at me, Sydney. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.” No way am I not going to see her eyes as I take what’s mine.
Her lips part slightly and I hear a sharp intake of breath. She likes it when I take charge. She’ll probably never admit it though, she’s too stubborn.
Our eyes remain locked as I begin to move. The brutal, rhythmic actions of my hips bringing us closer to the peak that we both need. And I do need it from Sydney, as much as I need to breathe. It’s not an option for me anymore, not a desire. Having her is a full-out fucking requirement for me to live.
She claws at the sheets, holding them tight to keep from sliding back every time I pound into her. Without looking away, I turn my head to where her leg is up on my shoulder and drag my teeth down her ankle and calf. The primal noises coming from her bring me right to the brink, a spasm of pleasure tears from my balls.
I reach down and thumb her clit once, then twice and she shatters around my cock, convulsing and screaming my name as she comes. Fuck if it doesn’t send me right over the edge with her. “Jesus Sydney,” I grunt and shove deep into her as her body grips my dick and pulls every fucking drop from me.
With my legs too shaky to stand, I pull out and collapse to my knees next to the bed, laying my chest down on her flat stomach, my head resting between her breasts. Sydney pushes my sweaty hair back from my forehead and runs her nails down my back.
“Mmmmmm, that feels good.” I lift my head to look at her. She’s stunning, flushed and content. A light sheen of sweat is on her chest. “You’re amazing,” I tell her honestly. And she is, this scarred, flighty, damaged girl trusts me enough to leave her protective bubble and take a chance.
“Thanks for letting me in enough to come here, Sydney,” I tell her honestly, watching her blue eyes widen.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now,” she murmurs.
Me either. Who would have thought? Andrew Forrester, the ultimate bachelor. The guy who never brings dates to any events, who won’t settle down, who hasn’t had a girlfriend in almost ten years. Totally pussy-whipped by a girl I just met.
And I couldn’t be happier about it.