by Starr, Faith
“Okay. Back to work. Here we go, take two. Ready?”
“Can’t wait.”
“I’ll have none of this negativity, Ms. Enthusiasm.”
She smiled wide. “I’m ready to swallow water and choke on it.”
“You’re not going to swallow water and choke. We’re only going under for a few seconds. I’ve got you.” I held her arms in front of mine.
“Then stop stalling.”
She was a character.
“One… Two… Three…”
We repeated the underneath maneuver several times.
“You’re a natural, babe. I think you’ve got the doggie paddle down to a science and you’re no longer afraid to go under the water. You’ll be swimming to the deep end before you know it.”
Lizzie surveyed the area. “Thank God nobody’s watching us.”
“It wouldn’t matter if somebody was. You shouldn’t worry about what other people think. That’s been one of the hardest lessons the guys and I have had to learn throughout our process of gaining fame. People will say cruel things. You can’t let it get to you. You have to rise above and develop a thick skin.”
“Easier said than done. I don’t think I’d ever be cut out for anything like that. I’m too sensitive.”
“It’s something we’ve learned to get a handle on. At first, we would take every negative comment or review to heart, especially me, since I write most of our songs. We made it a point to turn our backs on the naysayers. I think it also helps that we no longer read the bad. It’s pointless unless it’s constructive or conducive to the work we’re doing. We try to focus on the positive instead.”
“What a brilliant life lesson.”
“You’ll discover that I am full of wisdom.”
“I can see that.” She stepped closer and draped her arms around my neck. We engaged in a mini make-out session in the shallow end of the pool. It ended with me tickling her and her cracking up. She had a heartfelt and contagious laugh, which made me laugh along with her.
A clicking sound had me pulling away from her. My head jerked to the left. A guy dressed in khakis and a polo was snapping pictures of us.
“Come on, man. Show some respect. I’m on vacation.” I stuck my hand out in an effort to persuade the douchebag to take a hike.
“Anything done in public is fair game, Ryan. You know the drill.” The asshole smirked and took off, camera in tow.
“What was that about?” Lizzie watched the guy disappear into the lobby.
“Welcome to my world.”
Her eyes widened. “That was a reporter?”
“Most probably.”
“Oh no.” She covered her mouth. “He took pictures of us in the pool?”
“I’m not sure how many, or if he got anything worthy of publishing or posting.”
“Ryan, I don’t want to be posted in pictures online with phony stories made up about me.”
“I don’t want you too, either. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down. Dammit!” I slapped the water, creating a decent amount of splash next to us.
“It’s not your fault.” She said this while keeping ample space between us. “Does this happen often?”
“Not usually. Since I keep to myself, they consider me boring.”
“Until now.”
“Yeah. The fuckers have no respect for people in the public eye.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“I’m not sure. But the guys and I have a social media team behind us, so I’ll make sure to get anything posted disputed and spun in a positive light.”
“I don’t know how you live with that. It’s so invasive.”
“Tell me about it.” I went to pull her into my arms, but she froze up. “Don’t let it ruin our weekend.”
“The new policy is hands-off in public.”
As much as it sucked, she was right.
“Done.” I wouldn’t put her in an uncomfortable situation if I could help it. “Do you want to get a drink?”
“Sure.”
Tension filled her brow as we exited the pool. She scanned our surroundings, probably in search of more slime-bag reporters.
We sat on our lounge chairs. A server approached us a few minutes later.
“Do you want to order a drink, Lizzie?”
“A Diet Coke, please.”
“Nothing stronger after that episode in the pool?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“More than good.” I winked at her. “We’ll have a Diet Coke and a rum and Coke, please.”
The server scribbled down our order and left.
“When you said hands off in public, does that mean I can’t hold your hand?”
She softened in her chair and offered me her hand. Being our chairs were touching, it was nothing to rest our joined hands on her stomach. I caressed the soft skin of her knuckles.
“I was so relaxed. Now I feel uneasy. Like I have to keep looking over my shoulder to see if someone is watching us or trying to take a picture.”
“Let it go. We’re two people chilling at the pool. Nothing thrilling to post about. There are far too many other stories out there, ones with more action than this.”
“It’s not going to be so easy for me to let it go. You’re used to that type of attention. I’m not.”
“I understand. And again, it was my bad. Every now and then I forget they could be anywhere, waiting for the right moment to snap a picture.”
“I’d be walking on eggshells every time I stepped out of my house in fear people would be lurking around the corner trying to take a picture of me.”
“It’s part of my life now. I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever get used to, but everything in life has its pros and cons.”
“True.”
The server brought our drinks. I held mine in front of her. “Want a taste?”
“No, thanks. I’ll stick with my soda.”
We sat lazily for another hour, then ordered food. More people came to the pool area. It became too congested for my liking.
“Want to scope out the beach after lunch for a change of scenery?”
“A definite yes. The view from the balcony was spectacular.”
A few lounge chairs with standing umbrellas providing us shade was the perfect change of scenery. The beach was exquisite.
“Will you trust me to take you in the ocean?”
“Of course I will.”
Her faith in me did me proud.
We trotted down the warm sand and cooled our feet in the rolling waves coming ashore. I led her into the ocean. Her hand stiffened in mine the deeper we trudged. I managed to get her to shoulder level. Sure, she had her legs wrapped around my waist, and her arms draped around my neck, holding on for dear life, but hey, I considered it great effort on her part and great skill on mine.
“What happened to the no touching in public rule?” I laughed.
“Shit. You’re right. I already forgot about it. Maybe it’s because I can’t swim and am counting on you to keep me afloat.”
I laughed harder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Here, how about this?” I shifted our bodies so her back faced the shore. I kissed her, temporarily blowing off the rule she had forgotten about until I reminded her. I figured we were far enough away from the shore for anyone to recognize me or get a close-up if they did.
My dick rocked up and down against her.
“Ryan…” She spoke breathlessly.
“Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes… No….”
Guilt flooded me. What the hell was I thinking with my stupid rationale about nobody being able to recognize me? It was my dick thinking on my behalf.
“We can’t do this here. I shouldn’t have started something I can’t finish. Your orgasms are for my eyes only. I’m not taking another chance that someone might see or be watching us.”
“You’re right. Why don’t we go upstairs and finish instead?”
“
Great minds think alike. But we’ll have to wait a minute or two.” I jammed my erection into her. “Can’t get out of the ocean in this condition.”
“Gotcha.” She smiled.
After things settled in my swim trunks, we went ashore and collected what little we had brought downstairs with us. We went inside the hotel and upstairs to our suite.
“Exactly which part did you want to finish?” I played coy.
Her cheeks flushed.
“Oh no. You’re not getting off that easy, especially since it was you who suggested we come up here.”
“How about the thing we were doing in the ocean? You know…”
“Sorry, babe. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Ryan!” She reprimanded. “Why do you try to make me spell everything out for you?”
“Because I think it’s adorable how shy you get.”
“Bully.”
“You’re calling me a bully? That’s it. You’re getting it now.” I bulldozed her to the bed. We both fell on it, laughing hard. “Do you consider this bullying?” I untied her bikini top and tossed it aside.
“Quite the contrary.” She stared into my eyes. Her curls piled on the mattress underneath her. Her beauty took me by surprise, causing me to pause long enough to take her in—a mind-blowing visual. Her breasts were by no means big but lush enough for me to get a juicy handful of. They fit her frame perfectly. Her hips were succulent to the point I could sink my fingers into them without touching bone.
She wiggled her perfectly manicured fingers, inpatient with want, need. “Why did you stop?”
“I’m creating a mental picture of this magnificent body of yours to put in my memory banks.” I tapped the side of my head.
“I already have yours fully ingrained in mine.” She tapped hers.
I leaned forward and feasted on her erect nipple. Her hands smoothed into my hair. Her hips shifted upward, and she curled her leg over me. That was my cue to give her body what it wanted. Still sucking on her nipple, I removed the thin bikini bottom with a simple pull of the strings on both sides of her hips.
Again, I took her in, this time, her nudity. “Stunning.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts and tried to cross her legs.
“Uh-uh.” I took hold of her wrists and raised them over her head. She bit her bottom lip. “Don’t shield yourself from me. I’m going to let go of your hands so I can take off my shorts. Don’t move them. I want them above your head.”
Her response was to nod.
Standing at the edge of the bed, my shorts got untied. I let them fall to my ankles and slipped them off. Lizzie’s eyes trailed down my chest, to my abs, to my hard cock.
“You want to some of this?”
“Very much so.” Her eyes opened wider. Her lips parted slightly.
She reached for me.
“No, ma’am. I said hands up. Above your head.”
Widening the gap between her thighs had my dick twitching and my heart beating faster. I aligned myself and sank inside her.
I again restrained her wrists with my hand and placed them where I wanted them—above her head.
“I want to fuck you hard right now. Does that work for you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s what I thought.”
So much for fucking her hard. Her pussy tensed upon entry. Change of plans. I would start slow, then build up the momentum.
“Relax. You’re so tight.”
“Is that bad?”
“Are you kidding? It’s every guy’s wet dream. It’s like being with a virgin all over again.”
Once I got past the initial tightness, her body sucked me in.
She wiggled her hands, the ones still gripped in one of mine. I wanted her fully exposed to me. That didn’t mean her legs couldn’t get involved, though. She enveloped my hips against hers, meeting me thrust for God-loving thrust.
Her back arched only to sink back into the mattress so her hips could buck upward. The pace increased as did the intensity until we both erupted together in one volcanic orgasm.
“Ahh!” she cried out.
“Mmph,” I grunted
I rolled off her and rested my hand on my rapidly beating heart. Holy shit. That had been quick but vigorous as hell.
“You’ve exhausted me, Mr. Josephs.” She panted.
“I’m glad. Vacations are all about getting exhausted from having fun.”
“And I am. I’m more than having fun. This is a perfect staycation.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She rolled onto her side. I did the same so we could see each other. I stroked her cheek. “Shall we take a bath?”
“Yes. I’m covered in sand, among other things.”
“As am I. Have to say, I’m quite fond of those other things.”
“I learned a valuable lesson today.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“What goes up must come down. I didn’t think ahead on that one before putting a bikini on.”
Holy shit. That was hysterical. I had never thought about it from a girl’s perspective before.
“I’ve marked what’s mine.”
“I guess in a sense you did.”
“I’ll have to continue to do so, so other men know to stay away from you.”
“Possessive, are we?”
I pulled her into my arms. “Never realized how much until now.”
Her eyes twinkled when she smiled.
“Come, a bath awaits us,” I said.
Glass doors led us into the oversized bathroom. A large tub sat in a marble frame. The same marble lined the shower walls. The décor was top notch.
I got the water flowing and added some bubbles to the mix. Lizzie brought her phone into the bathroom and played music. When the tub was filled halfway, the two of us climbed into it. She sat between my parted thighs and rested her head against my chest.
“Oh, I love this song. Do you know it?” She peered at me over her shoulder.
“Sure do. “Forever Young” by Alphaville. It’s a great tune.”
“Whenever I hear it, I think of the residents at the center.”
“Why is that?” I rolled my hand over her stomach and breasts, covering the peaks with bubbles.
“Because in their minds they’re reverting back to their younger days. It’s sad. The part where it says, ‘Die young or live forever.’ If I knew my future would end up like theirs, I think I’d rather die young.”
So much for light conversation.
“It’s a hard reality to face and accept.”
“And the line about leaving your mark. I want to leave a real one, Ryan. You know? Serve a purpose.”
“You are. You’re helping a group of people who can’t help themselves.”
“I wish I could do more.”
“I feel the same with my music. I want it to touch people and positively affect them.”
“I’ve listened to a lot of your songs over the past week. Some of them are deep. Am I to assume you write from your heart?”
My hand stilled on her stomach. Thank God she hadn’t heard “Drowning” yet.
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t make you feel vulnerable to put everything out there for the world to hear?”
“Feelings are feelings. We all have them. You’d be surprised by how many fans reach out and tell me how my lyrics have helped them work through difficult times in their lives.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Seems like you’ve found your purpose. Huh?”
“In a sense.”
“The song, “Lost.” What is it about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I suffered a major loss at a young age. It’s affected me ever since, making me feel somewhat lost. Powerless, if you will.”
“I get it. My mother died when I was little.”
Lizzie was opening up. I was interested to hear what she had to say.
“How did she die?”
“OD’d
on drugs.”
She spoke without much feeling, which I found odd.
“That’s terrible.”
“It was. I thought she was sleeping. I kept trying to wake her. Usually, when she passed out on the couch, she would shift or tell me to leave her alone. That morning she did neither.”
My heart sped up. I could totally relate to the feeling of being helpless in a situation I had no control over.
“Did you call for help?”
“My father came stumbling into the house. He had, or I should say, has a fondness for alcohol. He called 911. The paramedics pronounced her dead on the spot.”
Christ.
I didn’t get why she wasn’t crying or showing any emotion. I considered this to be one hell of an exchange of words.
“I’m sorry.” I cradled her in my arms.
“It was tough. My father’s drinking picked up more after she died.”
“Is that why you don’t drink? I’ve noticed every time I offer you alcohol, you decline.”
She stilled in my arms and took a deep breath.
“Lizzie?”
“The reason I don’t drink is because I’m a recovering alcoholic. It’s not something I’m proud of or speak openly about. When you grow up in the type of household I did, it’s easy to fall into that type of behavior to help deal with life.”
What the fuck?
Her news may’ve surprised me but it didn’t change my opinion of her.
“How long have you been in recovery?”
“Three years.”
She had perseverance. I gave her that. “That’s great.”
“I’ve worked hard to keep it that way. I rarely see my dad anymore, by choice. He used to take his anger out on me. He expected me to become the woman of the household, other than the sex part. Thank God for that. It was my job to cook and clean as a preteen. My grandma lived close by. She was a widow, so she would spend her afternoons at our house. She started noticing my bruises. I could only make up so many lies and excuses for how I got them. My grandma was smart as a whip. Nothing got past her. She figured it out and took me in.”
“He used to hit you?” My chest tightened. That piece of info sickened me. I bit back making a comment about it, though, not wanting to shut her down.
“That’s an understatement. My grandmother confronted my father and told him if he didn’t let me live with her, she would notify the authorities. All he cared about was losing government support to care for me. The two of them made a deal. My grandmother agreed to let him keep the checks, but I wouldn’t remain in the house. She and I packed my stuff and moved it to her apartment. Poor thing had to support me with the little money she had because my greedy father kept the funds meant for me for himself, contributing nothing to my upbringing after I moved out.”