Absolutely Famous (Famous Series)

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Absolutely Famous (Famous Series) Page 1

by Heather Leigh




  Absolutely

  Famous

  Famous Series 2

  Heather Leigh

  Copyright © 2014 Shelbyville for Heather Leigh

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:-10: 1497429250

  ISBN-13: 978-1497429253

  First Edition, License Notes

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.

  —Someone Like You by Adele

  When you're with the right person, it's impossible to do anything wrong, and if you're with the wrong person, no matter what you do, it won't be right.

  —Unknown

  You think you're lost but you're not lost on your own. You're not alone. I will stand by you, I will help you through when you’ve done all you can do. If you can’t cope, I will dry your eyes. I will fight your fight, I will hold you tight and I won't let go.

  —Rascal Flatts

  I trust you. If you say you’re not upset, then I’ll let it go, for now. Just understand that I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you, not even me.

  —Andrew Forrester

  Chapter 1

  Drew and I are having a great time. We’re laughing, as in full-out, from the gut, uncontrollable laughing. Something I would have thought impossible after what happened last month and the pain we’ve both been through.

  It’s warm for mid-April in Vancouver, British Columbia, so we decided to go miniature golfing. The golf course has a pirate theme and Drew keeps saying he’s going to make me walk his plank whenever I try to take a shot. I just roll my eyes when he says it, because if I look at him again I’ll die laughing.

  Currently, I’m beating him by three strokes, so he’s trying to distract me as much as he can. I’ve discovered that he can be a pretty sore loser sometimes.

  I line up my putter with the hole across the bridge from me and Drew stands too close, smiling like an idiot. I haven’t seen him smile in so long that I’ll take what I can get, even if it means losing at mini golf. His face is way too beautiful for him to frown all of the time.

  “Want to raise my flag?” he says as he leans in and tries to block my shot. I look at him and snort. He’s wearing a horrible brown, shaggy, mullet wig and sunglasses, his face has a week’s worth of growth on it and of course, his repulsive Red Sox hat is in place front and center.

  “No one would want to raise anything on you with that dead rat on your head,” I tease. “Now please move so I can finish kicking your ass.”

  Drew feigns offense at my insult and steps aside, trying not to laugh at me. “You’re one to talk, Joan Jett.”

  “Hey! I think I look hot with short, black, shaggy hair.” I went all out too, wearing all black and tons of dark eye makeup and chain bracelets so I look like a punk rocker. “Better than the lumberjack,” I mutter as I tap my ball and it goes over the bridge and drops into the hole. “Woo hoo! Beat that Paul Bunyan!”

  His enormous plaid shirt and jeans are just awful, which is exactly why we’re having so much fun. After being under virtual house arrest for more than three weeks back in New York, it’s great to be out walking around like normal people. We’ve worn our repellant outfits all over Vancouver for the entire week that we’ve been here. The paparazzi know that Drew is in town to film a movie, but they haven’t found us yet thanks to our disguises.

  Drew said he wears his wig a lot when he wants to go out with his friends to a ball game or a bar. He enjoys hanging out like a normal guy, not one of the world’s highest paid actors and this year’s reining “Sexiest Man Alive”. It pisses his friends off when they keep getting interrupted by fans all night, so he says that he ‘sucks it up’ for them since they just can’t handle his hotness.

  Nice, right?

  I end up winning the game of golf, so Drew begrudgingly treats me to a salted caramel gelato at Bella Gelateria. According to the teenager that takes our scorecards at the golf course, they make the best dessert in the city. Drew orders a cup of hazelnut for himself and we sit at a tiny table in the crowded little shop just like everyone else and no one looks twice at us.

  It nearly broke Drew when I miscarried our baby after a stalker attacked me. Even though I was the one who had surgery and spent several days in the hospital, I think I came out of it stronger than he did. Now he doesn’t want me out of his sight, and he’s very bossy about it.

  My new bodyguard is sitting in the car with Drew’s regular driver, Bruce. Drew insisted on bringing Bruce with us to Vancouver. He refuses to let someone he doesn’t trust drive me around all day when he’s at work and he said hiring strangers just causes problems. As for the hired muscle, I like Steve enough, but I know I’ll hate having someone follow me everywhere.

  He’s worked for Drew a few times before, so he trusts Steve to be alone with me, not that Drew has left my side since I left the hospital. Once he starts filming in a few days, I’m sure I won’t be sitting in the hotel all the time and I’ll need Steve and Bruce to keep Drew focused on acting instead of worrying about me.

  We finish our desserts and stand up to leave and I watch a group of girls flinch away from Drew, revolted by his presence as he walks over to throw out our trash. I laugh out loud, and they shoot daggers at me. If they knew who was under those disgusting clothes they sure wouldn’t be acting like that.

  I really, really love these outfits.

  Steve sees us coming out of the shop and jumps out of the car to make sure no one on the sidewalk gets too close. He’s ripped and scary looking which is probably the point, but once you get to know him he’s a really nice guy. Drew told me he’s a former Navy SEAL and I’d believe it. The man misses nothing. He’s only about five foot ten inches, but with his military buzz cut, muscles that would make an MMA fighter jealous, and full sleeves of colorful tattoos; he looks like a man who knows how to kill someone with his bare hands. Which, I’m sure, is exactly what he was trained to do.

  “Mrs. Caldwell, Mr. Caldwell,” he nods as we get in the backseat.

  Drew has aliases for whenever he checks into a hotel, and Steve is instructed to use them whenever we’re out in our disguises. Naturally, he chose the last name of his favorite Boston Red Sox player, Trevor Caldwell. Drew told me that Trevor’s the one who gave him his beloved ‘lucky’ hat. The now-retired Red Sox catcher wore it for an entire baseball season and gifted it to Drew when he met him at a charity event. Drew wouldn’t stop gushing over Trevor’s on-the-field talent, and a week later, the hideous hat showed up at his manager Quentin’s office.

  I turn around to make sure Drew is right behind me and catch the attention of the girls that found us so disgusting. They’re standing on the sidewalk openmouthed and gawking at us. They can’t figure out why two grubby, homeless-looking people would have a bodyguard and a driver. Ha! This is so much fun, like having our own secret right out in front of everyone. I wink at the girls and hop in the back seat grinning. Drew slides in and looks at me inquisitively but just returns my smile and gives me a big kiss.

  Damn, even with that ugly disguise he can melt my panties.

  Chapter 2

  We’ve been in Vancouver for over a week and Drew has his first production meeting tomorrow at the studio. I’ll be able to attend daily filming if I want to, but the meetings are for the producers, director and other important executives only and since he’s an executive producer, he has to be there. I haven’t been on a movie set since I was eleven years old and watched my dad film a sequel for a big ac
tion-hero franchise he headlined, so I’m more than a little nervous to relive that part of my messed up childhood.

  “Yeah, I’ll be theah!”

  I hear Drew yelling on the phone with one of the other execs from the studio and he sounds pissed off… again.

  “Fuck, I said no!”

  “How many ways do I need to tell you?”

  “Well, you can tell Jim to go to hell!”

  “It’ll be a cold fuckin’ day in hell when I do that! She’s lucky I don’t have her ass replaced!”

  I sigh and go into the master bedroom of the hotel suite. As sexy and sweet as he is, Drew has a pretty bad temper when provoked, and Angry Drew is unpleasant to be around. I had my fill of him when I was in the hospital after the attack. He was so hostile to everyone that most of the nurses were scared to come into my room to check on me for fear of becoming the target of his wrath. I’m certain that they weren’t expecting the smiling, good-natured movie star Andrew Forrester that they see on TV and in the tabloids to be so downright frightening when upset.

  Drew doesn’t tell many people, but one of his favorite pastimes is mixed martial arts, so when he gets mad, he usually punches or breaks something. Honestly, I think the MMA is just a cover for the fact that he needs an outlet for his hideous temper by hitting and kicking shit.

  He comes stalking into the room just as I’m gathering my things to take a shower. I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and can tell that he really wants to throw his phone at the wall. “Hey, are you okay?” I ask, turning to face a pair of stormy green eyes.

  His tight brow relaxes when he sees that I’m a little intimidated by him. Stepping toward me, Drew pulls me into his arms. “Yeah, nothin’ for you to worry about babe.” I notice his Boston accent. That call really upset him. When Drew gets pissed, his hometown accent gets much more noticeable. I don’t think he has a clue when he does it.

  I stand on my toes and press a hesitant kiss to his downturned mouth. “Want to join me in the shower?”

  We haven’t had sex since the night before the premiere, and I miss it. I miss him, our physical connection. He’s been overly cautious in the intimacy department, afraid to hurt me even though the doctor cleared me a week ago. I’m even taking birth control pills now, so no more condoms and no more surprises.

  He doesn’t answer or move to kiss me back, and I’m too horny to be rejected again, so I lightly run my tongue over his soft lips. “Mmmm, you shaved off the scruff.” As I kiss him I can feel his rigid body begin to relax against me and I take advantage by pressing my hips against his.

  “Please? I need you.” God I hate begging. Just fuck me already!

  I don’t know if he’s sick of holding back his chivalrous attempts to protect me, or he’s just as needy as I am but I don’t care. Drew brings his hands up to my face and hungrily captures my mouth with his, probing me with long licks of his tongue.

  I let out a groan and grab his backside, pulling his growing hardness to me, grinding it against my stomach. When a low growl escapes his throat, I know he’s in too deep to stop. I take advantage, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching in to firmly grasp his smooth, hard cock.

  “Sydney,” he warns.

  I’m not going to stop, I want him too much. He smells too good and his skin feels too good and I’m so fucking horny I can’t take it. I begin stroking him fast and hard until he’s moaning non-stop into my mouth as we kiss. Drew suddenly steps back from me, and I can see the unleashed lust in his dark gaze. “Are you sure, Sydney?”

  “Yes,” I whisper as I remove my tank top and step out of my shorts, standing in front of him in just my tiny pink lace panties. Reaching over, I slide his T-shirt up and lean in, licking his each of his perfectly defined abs.

  “Fuck babe.” Drew grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off in one quick tug. I grasp the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs and yank them down his legs. He steps out of them, and stands impressively and wonderfully naked for me to admire.

  My breath catches in my throat. He’s so muscular and beautiful, like a sculpture of the perfect male form. I could look at him all day and never get tired. He doesn’t give me long to admire him though, moving swiftly he grips my arms and tosses me onto the bed, taking control. Before I can process what’s happening, his big hands are on either side of my panties and he rips them in half, dropping the remnants on the floor.

  “What…?” Drew climbs on top of me, silencing my protest with his mouth, and fills me to the hilt in one quick thrust of his hips. He needed this as much as I did, maybe even more.

  “God baby, I’ve missed you so much. I need to know you’re still mine,” Drew says as he moves in and out at an unhurried pace, pulling out almost all the way then slamming back into me in a controlled rhythm, driving me wild with frustration.

  “Drew,” I pant, my voice cutting off into an incoherent moan every time he drives deep, teasing me with his cock. With Drew continuing at his unhurried speed, I can feel the slow, gradual spark of pleasure starting deep inside. I clutch at his firm backside in an attempt to get him to go faster, greedy for an orgasm after going without for almost a month. To my horror, instead of giving me what I want, what I need, what I’m right on the edge of getting, he stops.

  I panic. “Why are you stopping?” I’m writhing beneath him in agony.

  “I don’t want to rush, Syd. I want to savor every minute, feel every part of you against me.

  “I need you, babe,” I whine, begging for release. I know I sound pathetic but right now, with him buried deep in me, I can’t take the torture.

  “You’ll get me,” Drew says in a husky voice as he nuzzles my breast. “Eventually.” He captures my nipple with his teeth and tugs.

  He thinks he’s going to take all night? Well fuck him, I’m dying here!

  Pissed and frustrated, I start ineffectively pushing against his rock hard chest, attempting to switch positions so I can be on top and take control. Moving my legs between us, I shove my knees into his narrow hips. He’s too damn heavy.

  “What the hell …?” His head snaps up and he meets my eyes, frowning.

  Not caring what he thinks, my desperation completely takes over. I concentrate and use all of my leg and arm strength to try and heave him off of me.

  His eyes widen in surprise and his mouth gapes open. Well, I don’t give a shit, Forrester. I’m taking what I want! No more treating me like I’m still broken or untouchable. I want to get fucked. Grunting under the strain of his weight, I push harder.

  “Sydney, what the hell are you doing?” he snaps. His voice sounds angry, but his carnal expression and his glinting eyes says he’s turned on.

  “Getting you the fuck off of me so I can get what I need.” I continue my attempts to wriggle out from under his heavy body.

  His gaze darkens, and he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, leaving me helpless. “I’m giving you what you need, now lie still or I’ll make you,” he says threateningly, moving his hips in and out. Just enough to tease me back to the brink then, he stops again.

  I don’t know if I want to scream at him, slap him, or ride him… maybe all three?

  “I need to get fucked!”

  Drew smiles wickedly and captures my nipple in his mouth again, biting and rolling it around in his hot mouth. I moan and strain against his hands which are still holding me down on the bed.

  “You’re not getting fucked, Sydney, I’m making love to you,” he murmurs against my breast.

  His words, intended to make me soften, end up having the opposite effect and drive me insane with lust. Drew pinning me under his hard body, holding my hands captive, buried deep in my wet, needy passage … all rational thought has left my mind.

  “Let go of me or fuck me hard!” I intend on sounding insistent but my voice betrays me by pleading with him instead.

  I don’t miss the fact that the corner of his lips twitch slightly at my determination, then his face turns serious, giving me a panty-melti
ng look that sends my heart thumping into overdrive.

  “You want to get fucked?” he whispers as he moves both of my wrists into one of his large hands and shifts his other arm under my waist, lifting my hips off of the bed.

  “Yes.”

  He begins to move again, this time fast and hard. Plunging in and out, commanding my body to respond to his violent thrusts. Within seconds, I’m spiraling into an powerful climax, white hot ecstasy shooting through my body as I’m groaning uncontrollably and squirming on the bed until the rush of pleasure subsides.

  Drew withdraws and leans back on his heels. “I’m not done with you yet, you wanted to get fucked hard.” He grabs my hips and flips me over before I can catch my breath, pulling me to my knees. Lifting me up, he brutally slams into me from behind and it feels extraordinary.

  “You can fight me babe, but I’ll win every time,” he growls into my ear. His assault on me continues, pistoning in and out as he pushes my shoulders down into the bed with a strong hand. Another orgasm is building inside of me already, my wet core pulsing around his relentless thrusting.

  God, Bossy, Angry Drew is so fucking good at this.

  I can’t stop the incoherent moaning that erupts from my throat and fills the room as I push over the edge once more. Electricity flows through every nerve ending until I’m spent and wrung out, with Drew still surging aggressively in and out of me from behind. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he cries out my name with a primal grunt and I can feel him empty into me until he collapses, his hard body pinning me down yet again.

  He takes a minute to catch his breath then rolls over. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He’s searching my face to make sure I tell him the truth.

  “Drew, I’m not broken.” I sit up and grasp his chin. “I’m fine, more than fine. That was incredible.” I press my lips against his, imploring him to see that everything is perfect.

 

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