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Page 10
I laugh at that comparison, even though it makes perfect sense. “I get that. Sometimes you’re Sydney Heller and sometimes you’re Sadie London.”
“Exactly.” She tilts her head and traces my neck to my collarbone, then farther down until her fingers settle between my breasts. “It’s natural with you, like I know what you want, and you know what I want.”
Our conversation is interrupted by a loud crash of thunder and then the rain starts pouring down. I like how it changes the scent in the air, and the sound it makes as it splashes against the ivy on the railings. The rain is blowing into the sheltered balcony, but I don’t mind—the sensation invigorating as it hits my face. Neither does Syd, as she closes her eyes and raises her gaze skyward. Droplets trickle down her cheeks, her nose and her chin, caressing her beautiful features. I simply can’t stop looking at her and when the droplets settle above her upper lip, I lean in and lick them away. My action stirs her back into the present, and she kisses me with such conviction that everything around me fades. The noise of the thunder and the rain on my skin… even the cold is gone as the robe slips off my shoulder and I turn to deepen the kiss.
23
A layer of condensation settles on the windows after a good thirty minutes of making out in the car. Syd’s lips feel heavenly on mine as I straddle her in the driver’s seat, rolling my hips on her lap while our tongues engage in a passionate dance. The darkness and privacy of the airport parking lot is tempting, but we have to be careful not to take it too far as we’ll never get out of here.
Reluctantly, I pull away because my flight leaves in an hour and this is cutting it really fine. “I have to go.”
“I know.” My breath quickens again as Syd’s hands disappear under my dress and make their way up my thighs. Although I know we don’t have time for this, I can’t resist her touch. Time is so precious now, and any moment I can steal with her is one that I’ll take. A hand snakes up around my waist, then settles firmly on my back while her other moves down to my pussy, rubbing me hard. I throw my head back and let out a whimper, then moan softly as she pulls the fabric of my drenched panties to the side and slips two fingers inside me. She locks her eyes with mine and shoots me a flirty smile as she curls them. “But this will only take two minutes.”
I nod and look at her through hazy eyes, then kiss her again as I start riding her fingers. I know for a fact it won’t take longer than two minutes, because it’s not the first time she’s done this to me.
“I want to feel you tighten around my fingers one more time, see the pleasure coursing through you. It’s so incredibly beautiful to watch,” Syd mumbles against my mouth. “And I want you to feel where I’ve been when you’re on that flight, so you’ll think of me.”
There’s no doubt I’ll think of her. Syd has a way with words that drive me wild. My pace quickens, and I’m moving faster, chasing release. “Yes…” I look at her, wanting her to see what she does to me, how good she makes me feel. She touches the spot that always sends me over the edge, and it doesn’t fail to amaze me how well she knows my body. But I know hers too, by now. Every inch of skin, each beauty mark, all her erogenous zones. I know a blush creeps onto her neck when I slide my hands under her top, and I know exactly how she’ll respond if I breathe into her ear; goose bumps, a shiver, her breath hitching… I intuitively know where she wants to be touched and what she likes, the same way she responds to my needs. It’s fluid, like we’re tuned in to the same wavelength, effortlessly communicating our desires without speaking. As the waves of my orgasm crash through me, I kiss her like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I take everything in; the way her lips feel, her tongue, her whimpers, her breath, her smell and the way she holds me as I shake in her arms, afraid to forget the important things a video call can’t capture. Letting out a deep sigh, I sit back and shiver when she pulls out of me. “Walk with me?”
When we’re inside the terminal she lets go of my hand and pulls me in, running a hand through my hair. I wrap my arms around her neck and breathe in her scent one more time. The past two days have changed my life forever, and whatever happens between us, I’ll always cherish this. If it was up to me, we’d continue to see each other but being so far away, I’m not sure how it will turn out, even though she says she’ll visit. Some people go by ‘out of sight, out of mind’, and I used to be like that myself. With Syd though, I know I won’t forget her, and if I have to, it will be very hard to get over her. I feel so much more for her than I’ve felt for previous lovers. Passion, lust, respect, admiration, adoration… I’m still clutching onto her and miss her already.
“I had no idea this was going to be so hard,” I say, surprising myself with my honesty. “Thank you, it’s been amazing.” I fight back the tears because I know it’s ridiculous to cry after the short amount of time that we’ve actually spent in each other’s presence, but I fail and a tear trickles down my cheek when I let go.
“It has been amazing. I’m going to miss you so much.” Syd cups my cheek, brushes the tear away with her thumb and kisses me softly. If I’m not mistaken, she seems a little emotional herself, and there’s a tremor to her voice when she continues. “I’ll see you very soon, okay? I’ll let you know once I’ve booked my flight.”
I nod and tear myself away from her. “I’ll see you online, then?”
She gives me a sweet smile and backs off, letting me go. “Yeah, I’ll see you online.” I turn and watch as she walks away—boyishly handsome and swaying her hips—wondering if I’ll ever see her again.
24
By the time I’ve boarded I’m a bundle of nerves, and I appreciate the privacy of the walls around my little business class cabin. Knowing she’s driving back home, and that as soon as we take off I’ll be on my way to a different time zone again, is a thought I’d rather not entertain. Being away from her makes me uncomfortable, and I desperately try to hang onto the feeling of our last hug. How she held me, kissed me, looked at me… This was only supposed to be a casual meet up; for me to satisfy my curiosity, and maybe get some answers, and I can only assume her intentions were the same. But now, everything is muddled and I’m not sure how I feel. All I know is that it has genuinely upset me to leave her and that I must be crazy if I feel this after only two nights. I couldn’t have known she’d be even more amazing in real life, and I couldn’t have known our chemistry would be through the roof, or that she’d bring out a side to me I didn’t know I had, like she knew me better than myself.
As soon as we’re in the air, I recline my comfortable chair, take off my heels and stretch my legs out in front of me. The hostess offers me a glass of Champagne and I gladly accept, hoping it will release some of the tension and restlessness inside me.
Looking for distraction, I reach for the magazines in the stand behind the mini bar and absentmindedly flick through them, already wondering what she’s doing. I imagine her visiting me in LA, showing her my favorite hangouts. Although I haven’t been to the beach in years, that’s the first thing that springs to mind. Maybe I just want to see her in a bikini, or maybe I’m longing for a change. Living in Santa Monica, it’s a crime how little time I spend enjoying the beach while it’s practically a stone’s throw from my apartment. I close my eyes and see us on loungers, sipping cocktails while we enjoy the view, then wading out into the ocean until we’re almost immersed, holding each other as we’re bobbing on the waves. Suddenly, I can’t think of anything better than being in the water with her. Our near-naked bodies pressed together, our limbs tangled, making out until we’re too turned on to continue. Rushing home, ravaging each other in the shower, then on the bed, or on the dining table…
As I sip my Champagne and let my imagination run free, other scenes enter my mind and they’re not just sexual. I think about us drinking coffee together on my balcony in the mornings, reading the newspaper while she writes, occasionally talking and sharing a kiss. Introducing her to my friends… maybe even my family. Curiously, it’s the mundane things that I long for, the
idea of being together in everyday life. How did I get in so deep so fast? Was it the talking, the sex? The talking wasn’t just talking, and the sex wasn’t just sex. It was a journey, an exploration of each other, as well as ourselves… I trusted her wholeheartedly and whatever happens between us, I know I always will.
Memories keep me entertained throughout the flight, visions of her walking around the bed with the crop in her hand making me squirm in my seat. Syd’s my ultimate fantasy, there’s no point in denying that. I knew her sexual predilections—or should I say Sadie London’s—through reading her books, and as a result she soon discovered mine. It’s a simple explanation, yet it doesn’t justify the powerful energy between us that was both instant online and in real life. Frankly, the whole situation is hard to get my head around. Chemistry happens when people are face to face, but in our case, it happened way before that. I swallow away my train of thought by finishing my Champagne because it only brings up more questions I’m not able to answer.
After lunch I connect to the airline’s Wi-Fi, hoping work might distract me but I soon realize I’m opening my Messenger app instead. I’m so used to checking it throughout the day, hoping Syd will be online, that it always comes first these days, and when the green light springs on, my heart jumps. Even though I’ve only just seen her, my reaction to the simple change of color is astounding.
‘You have Wi-Fi…’ she types.
‘I do. I’m in business.’ I add a wink emoji.
‘Of course you are .’ Then she adds: ‘I miss you already. Can I have a picture?’
I blush and attempt to take a selfie. It’s not like anyone can see me in here but the fact that she misses me puts a silly grin on my face, so I check to make sure there are no flight attendants walking past. It’s quiet in the aisle and I’m guessing most passengers are taking an after-lunch nap. I send the shot, then type: ‘Miss you too. Now where’s my picture?’ I want to call her but it’s too quiet in here to do that.
‘God, you’re beautiful,’ is her reply.
I wait, and my patience is rewarded when a picture of her face fills both my screen and my heart. ‘And you’re hot.’ Syd’s more than hot. She’s got this incredibly irresistible boyish smile and her glacial blue eyes under sharp, dark eyebrows are spirited and mysterious, sometimes carrying a hint of devilry.
Another message comes in and I reluctantly click the picture away, saving it for later.
‘I’m booking my flight. Is next month okay for you?’ She adds: ‘I know you’ll have to work, but so do I, so I’ll keep myself busy.’
‘Yes, next month is perfect!’ I immediately reply. My excitement goes through the roof, knowing this is happening. She really is coming. ‘How long for?’
‘A week? I can always keep my options open and stay longer if you want me to.’
‘You know I want you to.’ My fingers tremble as I type. ‘Stay as long as you can.’ I wait for a reply and it seems to take forever. Finally, a message comes back.
‘Booked . Have to go to the studio now. Talk to you later?’
‘Absolutely. Bye. X’
‘Bye. X’
I sit back and let out a deep sigh, then raise my hand to order another glass of Champagne because I feel like I’ve just won the jackpot.
25
“Tell me, how was it?” Ellen tastes the wine and nods to the waiter, allowing him to fill our glasses. “You’ve totally neglected me over the past week, so I need you to talk.”
We’re having Sunday brunch in a vineyard in Malibu. It’s located a couple of miles inland and looks out over a long stretch of vines and green hills. I love coming here because the service is excellent and most of the customers are true wine lovers, who are not here to brag, but rather to enjoy the vineyard’s signature white Cabernet Sauvignon and their great, fresh food.
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling bad for ignoring her text messages. “It’s been busy at work and I’ve spent my nights talking to Syd.”
“Well, Syd’s not here and now it’s time for me, so shoot.” Ellen sits back and tilts her head, regarding me. “You look different. Kind of girlie; all sweet and innocent.” She nods to my white cotton top. “What happened to the black?”
“Nothing, it’s just warm today.”
She arches a brow. “Yeah right. And that blush on your cheeks, is that from the heat too?”
I smile and think about what to say for a moment, because it’s hard to find the words to describe how I feel. Apart from the fact that I’m terribly distracted and constantly turned on, I’ve found myself passing the week in a dreamy haze. I managed to function at work, but only just, and as the afternoons progressed, the butterflies in my stomach multiplied in anticipation of my daily call with Syd. “It was amazing,” I finally say, unable to come up with anything better.
“What was amazing? The sex or Syd?” Ellen’s eyes widen in excitement.
“Yes, the sex was mind-blowing.” I pause. “But Syd was amazing too.” God, I love saying her name out loud and I feel myself blushing as it rolls off my tongue. I don’t go into detail about the sex, it’s something sacred, between me and her.
“So, sounds like you guys had a special connection? In and out of bed?”
“Yeah. It was the strangest thing; I felt like I really got to know her, and we just clicked on all levels.” Shaking my head, I take a sip of my wine. “That probably sounds silly to you because I was only there for two nights…”
“That does sound quite intense for such a short visit. So, are you officially into women now?”
“I guess so. I don’t see myself in bed with a man ever again, but to be completely honest with you, I don’t see myself having sex with another woman either. I just want her.”
“Jesus. You’re so into her, it’s almost sickening.” Ellen pauses and grins. “Are you in love with Syd?”
I shrug, unsure of anything apart from the fact that I miss her and want to be with her all the time. “Have you ever felt so close to someone that you feel like you can’t live without them?”
“Yeah, I feel that way about you,” Ellen jokes. “And I was kind of hoping it was mutual.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I love you too, Ellen, but you know very well what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do, actually.” Ellen sits back, and her expression turns serious as my question circulates in her mind. “I’ve felt that way about someone, but only once.” She sighs. “Our mailman when I still lived with David…”
“You’re joking, right?” I chuckle and try not to imagine Ellen dressed in a negligée, luring in the mailman with a false promise of coffee.
“No, I’m not. We were the last house on his round, and I was often out in the front yard when he dropped the mail over. At first, it was just ‘good morning’, and ‘how are you’, but soon enough, we started talking more and then one day I invited him in for a coffee. His name was Steve Jordan…” Her voice trails away as she says his name. “We developed some kind of weird friendship. Nothing ever happened; he was married too, but there was always this tension between us and later on, I think we both knew that we really liked each other. I couldn’t wait for him to show up and he would rush his rounds, so he had more time to spend with me. But then I got divorced, moved away and I never saw him again. It just felt wrong to contact him because he was married but I cried about him, Val. I cried about him a lot. Everyone thought I was devastated by my divorce, but all my tears were a result of losing the mailman.” She takes a sip of her wine and pauses when the waiter brings over our scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. “I’m over it now, but boy that was a hard time.”
“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
“I never really told anyone. People would assume I was just a desperate divorcée with a stupid crush.” She shrugs. “But when I think about it, I can’t stop wondering if he was the one, you know? If there’s only one person out there for each of us and if I missed my chance…”
“Do you believe that?” I sip my coffee and
spear a slice of salmon onto my fork. “Do you believe there’s only one person out there who you’re meant to be with?” I think of the coincidences that have happened to me over the past month. Ordering the wrong book, joining a book club, meeting Syd—who I feel an overwhelming passionate connection with—and then finding out she was the author of the books I’d been reading.
“I don’t know,” Ellen says. “Whether she’s ‘the one’ or not, if you really feel this strongly about her, you’re going to have to make an effort to keep her, because Quebec is not around the corner.” She pulls a sour face as she utters the word ‘Quebec’, making us both laugh and lightening the mood.
26
The door buzzer makes me shoot up from the couch, and my heart races, knowing she’s here. I’ve been waiting for the past three hours because Syd was delayed and told me she’d get a cab to my place as she wasn’t sure how long it was going to take. As a result, I paced around the house so much that I’m pretty sure I damaged the floor before I finally forced myself to sit down with a glass of scotch to settle my nerves. Rushing over to the mirror in the hallway, I check how I look before I press the intercom button to let her in. After getting changed five times, I decided it made no sense being dressed and opted for my silk robe instead. Syd’s seen it so many times in our video calls that it’s only fair she gets to take it off in person.
When I open the door, I have no time to take her in or process our reunion because she slams it shut and pushes me against the wall. Her hips are grinding into me, her hands moving through my hair as she kisses me like it’s all she’s been thinking about over the past few weeks. Her lips part and we sink into an all-consuming kiss, moaning as we let our hands roam freely. She pulls at the tie and opens my robe, never taking her mouth off mine. Her hands slide around my waist, over my back and then to the front again, cupping my breasts as she leans into me.