Already Famous

by Heather Leigh

  “Certainly Mr. Forrester.” His tone is joking, as if my request couldn’t possibly be serious.

  Fuck, this guy isn’t getting it. Now I’m getting pissed. This weird, hyperactive, too-tan guy will not fuck up my shit with Sydney.

  “I mean it, not a word Philippe,” I snap rudely.

  “They are very discreet, I promise.” He’s being more respectful now that he knows I’m dead serious.

  “Yeah? They bettah be. I’ll have anyone who fucks up fired. I don’t want Sydney to see anything that insinuates that I’m anything othah than a regulah guy.” I rant at him, knowing I’m being a dick but not giving a shit about his feelings.

  “Are you serious? She doesn’t know who you are?”

  “Oh, I’m very serious. She bettah not heah or see a thing? Got it?” I bark at Chad’s caretaker.

  “Yes sir, one hour correct?” Philippe seems to finally understand me on this matter.

  “Yes, an hour.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll be up to get you in 45 minutes.”

  “Okay.” I hang up and toss the phone on the outdoor table, dragging my hands down my face. This had better not be a bad idea, it seems as if disaster could sprout up from where I least expect it.

  Done with that, I head into the master suite and quickly strip. Worries about the boat and crew are suddenly gone, replaced with visions of a naked Sydney rubbing soap all over her delectable body.

  “Everything okay with the boat?” she asks as I step into the shower with her.

  I freeze under the spray, forgetting how loud I can get when I’m pissed. I’m left to wonder how much of the phone call she overheard. She probably wouldn’t tell me even if she heard everything, she’s so fucking secretive.

  If she’s going to pretend she didn’t hear everything then I’m going to act like she didn’t hear everything. I slip my arms around her waist and press my hard, willing, cock against her wet body.

  “Everything’s great babe. Philippe will be here in less than an hour.”

  She looks at me and the corner of her mouth curls up. I see a wicked glint in her eyes. “Well then, let’s hurry, shall we?” she says as she begins to stroke my aching shaft with her soapy hands.

  Jesus. I throw my head back as she skillfully rubs my cock, a slow burn beginning to ignite in my groin. When she reaches down and lightly tugs on my balls I just about lose it right there and then.

  My head snaps up and I grab her wrists, pinning them to the wall behind her. She gasps at my sudden movements and I dive in to taste her parted lips. I can feel her trying to wriggle out of my grasp but I hold on tight, plunging my tongue into her mouth roughly, taking not asking.

  Deftly, I switch my hold so I have both of her wrists trapped in one of my hands leaving one free to run up her wet slit.

  “Fuck, you’re always so ready for me babe,” I groan into her mouth, devouring her in another brutal kiss.

  I reach under and lift her ass with one arm, still holding her wrists with the other. Somehow knowing what I want without needing words, Sydney wraps her legs around my waist so I can plunge deep into her willing heat.

  Finally, I let go of her hands and she immediately snakes them around my neck and threads them into my hair. When she gives my scalp a sharp yank and her nails claw at my shoulder, it stokes the fire into a passionate explosion of intense need.

  “Fuck,” I moan as I grip her ass and pound into her over and over as she shrieks in ecstasy.

  It only takes a few minutes for her to spiral into a searing climax, pulsating around my cock until I come to my senses and quickly pull out, my come jetting between us, coating our bellies before it’s washed away by the shower.

  Breathless, I pant out an apology to Sydney. I was so caught up I nearly forgot that we weren’t using protection.

  “What are you sorry for?” she asks as I lower her legs and she regains her footing on the wet, pebbled floor.

  “I didn’t think it through. There are no condoms in the shower.” I give her a quick kiss before reaching past her to turn off the water.

  “Oh.”

  That’s all she says, ‘oh’. What the fuck does that mean? Doesn’t she know I’d rather cut off my own arm than hurt her? I almost disrespected her right here in the fucking shower!

  Sydney wraps herself up in a towel and heads back inside the house, brushing by me without making eye contact.

  Knowing her dislike for deep conversations, I figure now isn’t the time to tell her about how my girl can expect to be treated. It’d probably make her run like hell in the opposite direction. But bareback fucking with no birth control and without her permission? Never gonna happen no matter how fucking incredible it feels.

  I pull on my shorts and T-shirt while she gets ready in the bathroom and sit on the bed to think about her. She likes being bossed around in bed. I found that out last night. Would she be frightened by my protective nature? My sister Allie says I’m a control-freak or, when she’s pissed at me, an overbearing asshole.

  I can’t help it. If someone threatens one of my family or friends, it’s like a haze of red-hot rage surges through every molecule in my body, shutting down the logical side of my brain. After Matt died, then my girl was pretty much raped at a party when I wasn’t watching, I felt a lot of guilt. I know I couldn’t do anything about Matt, but my girl? That shit was my fault, I should have looked out for her, protected her from it.

  Years later, my mom had to quit her job because of the psychotic women that kept breaking into her school to meet me. When I found out, I destroyed an entire kitchen’s worth of glassware and spent three days straight in the gym pounding the crap out of anyone who would spar with me.

  It pisses me off so badly when I can’t protect my loved ones from shit. Especially shit caused by my job. Fucking fame, if people only knew what misery it can bring.

  “Ready to go?”

  Sydney’s sweet voice pulls me from my dark thoughts and back to the present. I drop my scowl and force my Andrew Forrester smile onto my face, pulling her close. “I just have to get my hat.”

  She giggles, and my fake smile becomes real. I’ve forgotten everything I was thinking about and there’s only her.

  CHAPTER 17

  Philippe stops the Mini-Moke right on the beach that runs along a large bay. Out in the gentle turquoise waves is a large, modern sailboat painted a deep blue with white trim. I was expecting a much smaller, less outrageous boat. It’s eye-catching though, I’ll admit Chad has great taste.

  Chad is someone who really knows how to live, enjoy each moment and make it memorable. I need to take lessons from him. I never take vacations, and I have my brownstone and a few expensive cars but that’s it. What would I do with all of this shit if I had it? I probably wouldn’t have time to use it even if I bought it tomorrow.

  “Here we are,” Philippe says.

  Sydney’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “It’s beautiful. Whose boat is it?”

  “It’s Chad’s,” I tell her. “He has a crew on call, so I had them prep the boat and they’ll sail it for us since I know nothing about sailing and this boat is too big for one person anyway.”

  Sydney seems uncomfortable all of a sudden, using her hands to pat down her dress. Fucking Chad and his fucking ostentatious boat!

  “You have a great friend to let us use all of his expensive toys. I hope I get to thank him in person someday,” she murmurs.

  Oh. She’s uncomfortable because it feels like she’s taking advantage of his generosity. As much as I’d love for Chad to meet her, that can’t happen until she knows about me.

  “Yes, hopefully,” I agree. “Let’s get aboard, ready Sydney?”

  We trudge across the sand to a small inflatable with an outboard motor and a teenager at the helm. First test, don’t screw this up for me, kid.

  The pilot barely glances our way as I help Sydney get seated on the side of the dingy. I toss our stuff in and hop up on the other side. I scan the beach and pull my hat down
low in the hopes that it will help when we meet the crew and face the caretaker. “Philippe, around 4pm?”

  The good-natured man smiles and pretends to tip his hat. “I’ll be here, Mr. Forrester. Miss Allen, enjoy your day.”

  Philippe pushes the inflatable out into the shallow surf and the kid starts the engine. He doesn’t say a word, or make eye contact with either of us. I guess the dressing down I gave Philippe did the trick.

  Nothing is better than when Sydney lets her guard down, so I spend the short trip watching her relaxed appearance. Normally so stressed out and reserved, her excited blue eyes are taking in everything around us and her beautiful mouth is pulled up into a huge grin. She’s fucking stunning, her long auburn ponytail whipping back in the wind, the ocean spray shining on her face. I want to capture this moment and burn it on my brain.

  The dingy pulls up to the sailboat, which looks even bigger from here than it did on shore. Jesus, Chad. Two men in white are waiting to greet us as our pilot tosses them a rope.

  “Welcome to the Magic Hour,” the older man says as he extends a hand to Sydney.

  “Thank you. I’m Drew, this is Sydney.”

  He shakes our hands and introduces himself and the younger man beside him. “I’m Frederick, your Captain, and this is Robert, one of the crew. I’ll give you a quick tour and we’ll head out. Winds are perfect today; the water isn’t too choppy. It’s going to be a great sail.”

  The captain shows us around the sailboat, and I’ll admit it’s impressive. “This is a 200ft Perini Navi sloop. She has five cabins and can sleep twelve. With her sails up she can reach 15.5 knots, which is about 20 miles per hour if you were wondering. She’s two years old and has every modern amenity you could ask for.”

  Frederick walks us through the main cabin and tells us about the integrated satellite and sound system that is controlled by touch screens installed in each room. We go down two separate levels to see the bedrooms and the movie-screening room. Sydney tenses up when we see the built in theater that Chad has onboard and I have to clench my fists so I won’t punch the wall.

  It frustrates me to no end that I can’t ask what the fuck happened to her.

  Frederick finishes the tour up top on the deck where I bring Sydney to sit with me on the giant curved couch.

  “So, sail around the island? Maybe a stop at a nearby reef for some swimming and snorkeling? What do you think, Sydney?”

  The crew starts prepping to leave as we wait for her to approve of the plan.

  She grins and reaches up, turning my cap backwards. “Sounds great,” she says as she leans in to kiss me. “Let’s go.”

  I smile broadly, how can I not when she looks at me like that? “You heard the lady, let’s do it!” I tell the captain, who has been waiting patiently while we decided where to go.

  Once he’s gone I pull her to me and bury my nose in her neck, inhaling her addictive scent. The sound she makes when I touch her sends a jolt of desire straight through me.

  Not now Forrester. I would never debase her by fucking her on this boat with a half-dozen crewmembers around. No way. She’s too good to be treated like a whore, no matter how badly my cock is aching by the time today is over.

  Sydney leans back against my chest as the sails go up and we begin to move. This boat is smooth, as it should be for the price. If I had to guess I’d say that Chad shelled out 100 million on this boat, maybe more. Not that he can’t afford it, shit, not that I couldn’t afford it. But a boat? Not where I’d spend my money but this sure is nice.

  We manage to have a great time despite having to dance around such massive subjects as Sydney’s past, my job, our future and pretty much anything else serious in nature. Even still, she’s playful, sweet, and funny.

  A young woman dressed in the same white polo shirt and shorts as the other crew members approaches us and asks if we’d like anything to eat or drink. Sydney asks for a water as do I. When the girl returns, she questions us on our lunch preferences.

  “Syd? Anything you’d like for lunch?” I ask her.

  The woman won’t look either of us in the eye. Shit, maybe I went a little overboard with the directives when I spoke to Philippe.

  She just shrugs. “I don’t know, something light? So we can swim later.”

  “Okay, something light. Tropical or something,” I tell the girl. She just nods and scurries off. Christ, she probably thinks I’m the world’s biggest asshole. One of those dicks who doesn’t want the lowly staff making eye contact or speaking to them.

  The captain anchors the boat in a small cove near a tiny, rock covered island just off the coast of St. Bart’s. Lunch is ready, so we make our way over to the shaded outdoor dining table and enjoy our meal of grilled snapper with coconut rice and mango salsa.

  “This is delicious,” Sydney says as she takes a bite.

  Fascinated, I watch her face contort sensually at the pleasure she gets from the food. How am I supposed to eat if she’s going to do that?

  “Excuse me,” Sydney says to the girl serving us. “Can I have a coconut rum and pineapple juice?”

  The girl nods and waits for me to say something. Shit, I did go too far with my orders to the crew.

  “I’ll have one too,” I say stupidly, too embarrassed by my earlier instructions that have made this young woman afraid to even look at us to think about what I just ordered to drink.

  She comes back moments later and puts a fruity-ass looking concoction in front of me. It even has a fucking miniature umbrella in it.

  “What is this?” I ask Sydney as I cringe away from the glass.

  She can’t answer me. She’s too busy laughing hysterically, tears streaming down her face. Her joy is a sight to see, but I have no clue what’s so fucking funny.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you are drinking a panty ripper,” she says between uneven breaths.

  A panty ripper? Is that what this thing is called? Great.

  I stare at her, an annoyed look on my face. “It’s just pineapple juice and coconut rum, Syd. Besides, you’re drinking one.” I try to drink from the glass, but the little umbrella and the wedge of pineapple on the glass get in my way and smash against my nose.

  That starts Sydney uncontrollably laughing all over again. I try to glare at her, but her attempts at stifling her laughter make me smile. I’ll never admit it to her, but the fucking panty ripper was really good.

  We finish eating and Syd asks if we can sunbathe for a while before swimming. Her, in a bikini, two feet from my face? Hell yes.

  I pull a huge white bottle from my bag and turn to Sydney. “Can you sunscreen my back?” Chad and the other producers will have a fit if I show up for filming all sunburned. I’m not even supposed to get a tan, so I’m using SPF 8000 or something ridiculous like that.

  There’s a pause before Sydney answers me. “Sure.” I hand her the bottle and quickly realize that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Her soft hands are roaming all over my body, rubbing across every inch of muscle and skin. I’m going to sport a boner in front of the whole crew if she doesn’t finish soon.

  From next to me, I hear Sydney throw down the bottle of lotion and flop onto her chair dramatically and I realize that she’s just as turned on as I am. I grin and lean over her. “Did you enjoy molesting me Miss Allen?”

  “No, not at all,” she says unconvincingly, her face buried in a towel.

  I laugh and pull out my iPad, studying the scenes that I need to know by next weekend.

  We read for a while, and relax in the sun. I spend way too much time staring at Sydney as she rests. Then we snorkel around the boat, watching the schools of fish and the massive green turtles that drift along the bottom of the sea.

  Once we’re back on the boat and in dry clothes, I see Sydney pulling out the sunscreen again.

  “Hey, I think I’ve had enough sun for today. My face and shoulders are getting fried,” I tell her. I see her glance at my face and scrunch up her nose. She knows I’m no
t burned yet. I’m not even tan, but I can’t take a chance with filming starting in four days.

  “Okay, let’s go inside,” she says agreeably, not questioning my contradictory statement.

  We head into the main cabin for the sail back to St. Bart’s. Sydney stretches out on top of me on the massive sectional couch and falls asleep almost instantly. The warmth of her body, the smell of her skin, the rocking of the sailboat… I fall asleep right after she does, thinking about how perfect today was and never having been as content as I am now.

  CHAPTER 18

  I wake up so early it’s still dark outside. We’ve left the retractable walls open so the warm ocean breeze can blow into the master bedroom and I can hear the rustling of the trees outside.

  Once my eyes adjust, I can see Sydney asleep next to me. She let it slip once that she has bad nightmares but I’ve never seen her have one. Maybe she’s too exhausted from all the amazing sex we have. The thought makes me smile even though there’s no one to see it.

  I gently brush her hair away from her face. She’s lying on her stomach, her pale skin glowing in the dark room. The sheets are tangled up in her legs leaving the rest of her body exposed, not a stitch of clothing in sight. I fight the urge to touch her, not wanting to be a douche and wake her up for sex, again.

  I decide to get up, my mind too busy to sleep anymore. It’s our last full day here and I have to leave for California in a few days. Will Sydney still want to see me when I get back? She’s so fucking secretive I have no idea how she feels about us, about me.

  Annoyed with myself, I grab my phone and head outside, sitting in one of the huge lounge chairs on the back deck. An uneasy feeling claws at my gut. I have no idea what to do. I’m so used to women using me for my name and me using them for sex. How the hell do regular people do this shit? How am I supposed to do this shit when neither will allow the other to know anything about them?

  Frustrated beyond belief, I feel like punching something. Control your shit Forrester, I warn myself. Sydney most definitely wouldn’t want to see me again if I woke her up by destroying some of Chad’s crap or busting my hand on his wall.