Relatively Famous

by Heather Leigh

  I knot my fingers in his hair and give it a sharp pull, drawing a guttural noise from Drew’s throat. He opens his mouth to me and I shudder as his tongue explores me with long, slow licks. My hand drops from his head and I squeeze his tight backside, pressing my clit against his leg shamelessly. The groan that escapes from him is the sexiest thing I have ever heard.

  When the elevator stops we break apart, both of us breathless and disheveled. I fumble in my purse for my keys, my head so full of everything “Drew” that I can barely function.

  After a few tries, I’m able to open the door and we step into the foyer. I turn and face this rugged, yet exquisite man, removing my coat and dropping it to the floor. He shrugs out of his and tosses it on top of mine. Reaching out, I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom.

  Maybe this is a mistake, but I have to be with him, now. I need to feel his incredible body on mine, his hard muscles under that tan skin underneath my hands, his hot mouth on my intimate places. The ache between my legs that started the first day I met him is almost painful after a week of fantasizing about this.

  The city casts a pale light across the dark room. I feel Drew press against my back when I stop in front of the big window, looking out at the vastness of it all. He gathers up my hair and places it over my shoulder so he can drag his lips across the back of my neck. It’s so quiet that all I can hear are the shallow breaths that are coming from both of us.

  I shudder in pleasure and arch back against him, feeling his thick erection hot and hard behind me. The warmth from his body seeps through the thin fabric of my dress, heating up my already scorching skin. Inexplicably, just like at his gym, I feel calm, almost protected when I’m with him. Like no one can ever hurt me again.

  “Sydney,” he growls as he turns me around to face him. I reach up with a shaky hand and loosen his tie, throwing it to the floor. Drew brings his large hands up to my breasts, his strong fingers working my nipples into hard buds. I’m panting loudly as he reaches around my back, smoothly unzipping my dress and letting it fall in a silken puddle around my feet.

  “Jesus, Sydney.” He steps back and studies every inch of me as I stand there in my black lace bra, matching boy shorts and stilettos. His eyes betray his composed demeanor, alight with a possessive desire. He begins to unbutton his shirt as his eyes devour me. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  I step out of the pile of fabric and crush myself against him, my last tiny bit of control shredded. Helping him remove his shirt, I impatiently work my nervous fingers over the buttons as fast as I can.

  I will not rip his shirt off; I will not rip his shirt off.

  My hands find the bare skin of his abdomen, and I take my time running them up and down over every perfect inch of his muscular torso. I revel in the feel of his smooth, warm skin, the movement of his chest as he breathes in and out, the rapid beating of his heart under my fingers.

  He grunts and reaches his hands under my backside to lift me to him. Somehow understanding what he wants, I wrap my legs around his waist and hang on tight, pressing my sex against his impressive cock. Our mouths crash together again, me clinging to his strong shoulders as he devours me with his tongue.

  Drew steps over to the bed and sits down with me on his lap, my legs still wound around him, heels digging into his back. I place my hands on his broad chest and take pleasure in the feel of his chiseled muscles, sliding my fingers up to his collarbone and back down again.

  Giving me a dark look that nearly makes me come on the spot, Drew hooks a finger in each side of my black lace bra and yanks down the cups to expose my breasts. “So perfect. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he whispers. My nipples are tight and hard as he drops his head to take one in his mouth.

  “Drew, I need you.” I shift back and forth on his lap to create more friction, too aroused to wait any longer. I feel his smile against my breast as he moves to the other stiff peak and suckles it, gently biting it as I squirm. “Please,” I know I sound desperate begging him like this, but I’m aching to have him inside me after dreaming of this moment for over a week.

  He releases my breasts from his torture and picks me up off his lap to rest me on the bed. Standing he begins to remove the rest of his clothes, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound in the room besides our heavy breathing.

  Impatient to touch him, I reach out to help, stroking his thick cock through the fabric of pants. Drew hisses as he inhales through his teeth, “Shit, Sydney, you’re killing me.”

  I smile sweetly at him thinking how he was just teasing me mercilessly as I begged for more. I jerk down his pants and boxer-briefs, grab onto his heavy erection, and start moving my hand up and down his thick shaft. When I lean in and lick the tip, savoring the small bead of moisture, he pushes me away. “No. I won’t last if you do that. I want to be inside you.” I feel a rush of wetness at the thought of him filling me with his huge, gorgeous cock.

  I let go and lie back on the bed, staring at Drew, unsure which of us is hungrier for this. He bends down and retrieves a small packet from his pants, grinning, and tosses it onto the bed. Climbing onto the bed between my legs he grabs my ankles and yanks me down toward him, my body sliding across the sheets.

  He removes each stiletto and places it on the floor, then bites and kisses his way up one of my legs from my ankle to just before the apex of my thighs. I squirm from the scraping of his teeth and lips, so wound up that I feel as if a soft breeze could make me come.

  “I don’t think you need these either,” he says as he nuzzles my clit through my lace boy shorts, causing my hips to shoot up off of the bed. “Do you?”

  Panting heavily, I close my eyes and feel his hot breath on my center as he slowly peels my soaked panties down. When his tongue touches my wet folds, I nearly come on the spot.

  “Drew,” I whisper as I look down. The sight of this gorgeous man between my thighs is so erotic I can barely stand it. He slips a finger inside me, then another and starts to rub that perfect spot. I can’t hold back, writhing wildly on the bed. He uses his free hand to force my hips down as I twist and shudder and come for what feels like hours. Only after I nearly pass out from pleasure does he relent and remove his fingers from my swollen opening.

  “Sydney, that was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is husky as he climbs up on top of me. I seize his head, pulling on his thick hair and crush my lips to him, tasting my slick arousal on his perfect mouth.

  “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever felt,” I say breathlessly, grabbing the condom from the bed and tearing it open with my teeth. Without breaking eye contact I reach down and grasp his steel length firmly, sheathing him as he hisses from my touch. When I’m done he takes my hands and pins them over my head to hold me down, kissing me forcefully, then pulling back to watch my face as he sinks deeply into me.

  “Ahhhh.” He pauses a moment. “Fuck, this is going to be quick babe, you feel too good.” His forehead beads with sweat and he scrunches up his face to regain control. After a moment, he opens his eyes and stares at me, intense green into cool blue, as he begins to move. The smell of his raw masculinity shrouds my senses; sweat, sex and that faint grapefruit scent I associate with his skin. I watch his perfect, corded muscles flex and stretch as he moves above me. My head is swirling with everything Drew.

  “Wrap your legs around me.” I do as he says and he pounds into me harder, grinding his body against my sensitive bud with every thrust. Pleasure sparks through every nerve and I start incoherently moaning against his demanding pace. I can feel my orgasm building quickly, and it’s going to be mind-blowing.

  Drew shifts his narrow hips and I come, loudly, screaming his name as my body clenches his cock tightly and I shatter around him. He allows himself to let go, pumping one last time before finding his own sweet release. Drew lets out a string of obscenities and collapses on top of me, freeing my hands so he can stroke my face.

  I wrap my arms around his sweaty neck and kiss the spot o
n his neck where his pulse is racing under his hot skin, not wanting to lose our intimate contact, but knowing I’ll have to soon. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he brushes my damp hair from my face and rolls off of me, leaving me feeling empty.

  “I have to take care of this.” He gestures to the used condom. Drew gets up and heads for the bathroom, his chiseled body flexing gloriously as he takes each step.

  Even his backside is perfect.

  Shit, I like this guy. I really really like this guy. I chew on my bottom lip as I think about what this means. The sex part is easy for me, it’s everything else that I can’t handle.

  Drew returns from the bathroom and slips into the bed next to me. He drags the covers up over us and turns me so my back faces his front, sliding his huge arm around me and holding me close against his warm body. He smells so fucking good, it’s scary.

  “Is it okay if I stay?”

  I’m silent for a moment, thinking about how I usually kick guys out right after sex. No man has ever asked to spend the night; it’s assumed that they’ll want to leave immediately, and I always want them to. He takes my silence as a dismissal and speaks again. “I mean, I don’t have to if …”

  “I want you to stay, Drew,” I whisper. Why wouldn’t I? Inexplicably, he makes me feel safe, keeping away the anxieties that have plagued me my entire life.

  “Good.” He snuggles up closer to me, kisses my neck and sighs, his warm breath in my hair.

  I am so fucking screwed.

  Chapter 8

  I smell coffee. That’s the first thing I think of as I wake up.

  Drew. That’s the second thing I think of. Shit! I let a guy spend the night. That’s a first for me.

  I bolt upright and look around my bedroom. I’m alone, but there’s a steaming to-go cup of Kona from the Village Coffee Bar next to my bed. Smiling, I take a sip of the coffee and get up to use the bathroom.

  Feeling much better after freshening up, I look in the mirror. My grin is so big my cheeks are actually hurting, I’m flushed and my eyes are bright. Hell, even the dark circles have faded. I guess great sex makes a huge difference. That and the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in a while, which is odd because I’ve never slept in a bed with a man before.

  Not wanting to analyze it right now and ruin my high, I drag a brush through my hair and put on my robe to go looking for sexy Drew.

  I find him sitting at my kitchen table, once again as comfortable as if this were his own home. He has his own cup of coffee and a copy of the New York Post which he hastily folds up and places out of my reach. “Good morning.” He stands and pulls me in for a kiss.

  God, he’s even more attractive than I remember. His hair is tousled and he has a slight shadow on his jawline. His lips are still a little swollen from our kisses and his brilliant green eyes are sparkling with contentment.

  “Well, you’ve been busy.” On the table is a plate holding several of Leah’s croissants. Huh? “How did you get out of my loft and back in without waking me for the key?”

  “Oh, I didn’t.” He looks down at the table, his cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment. “I had someone pick up the pastries and coffee and bring them to your lobby. Your concierge brought them up”

  “Oh.” Interesting, I’ll have to think about this more later. He has people he calls and they just bring him stuff? “Well, thanks.” I grab a hazelnut croissant and pop a delicious piece in my mouth. “Did they bring the paper as well?”

  “Yes. Did you sleep well?” He looks at me with that sincere expression of his and I melt.

  Without thinking, I answer. “Except for when you woke me up in the middle of the night like a horny teenager, I slept like a rock. Which is actually unusual for me.” I see the surprise on his face and realize I just gave him some very personal information.

  Great, here I go with the verbal vomit again.

  Then I notice that he’s wearing different clothes from the ones he had on last night. Not an expensive, custom made suit, but jeans and a deliciously tight fitting long sleeved T-shirt. He has people who bring him croissants and newspapers and changes of clothes? What the fuck? I want to know, but I don’t want to start asking a ton of questions, mostly because I don’t want to have to answer any of his questions just yet.

  “You have trouble sleeping?” He’s regarding me expectantly. Shit! Me and my big mouth, I’m usually much more careful around people.

  “Ummm, well, yes …” I can’t make a full sentence, Ugh! I sound so stupid. “I sometimes have bad dreams, but really, it’s not a big deal.” Great, I can’t even convince myself.

  “Hmmm. Maybe we’ve found a cure for your problem.” He gives me a sultry look and rubs his finger across his lips. I feel my nipples harden under my thin robe. Wow, he is fucking sexy.

  My throat feels like sand, and all I can do is drop my gaze and drink more coffee. Drew thinks this is funny as hell and starts laughing at my unexpected embarrassment. “Sydney, your reactions always surprise me. How’s your arm? It looks good.”

  The blood-gushing scrape is now just a small scab, most traces of my humiliating fall gone. “It’s fine.” I duck my arm under the table. I don’t want him to ask about my other scar again.

  He gets up and crouches down next to me, doing a complete one-eighty on the conversation. “I have to get going, when can I see you again?” He takes my hand and strokes his rough thumb across my palm. If I were wearing panties, they’d be wet … again. I have no willpower against this handsome, charming man who is literally on his knees, begging to see more of me.

  “I have no projects lined up, and I’m just waiting for my current client to call to start work, so I’m fairly open in the next few weeks.” I cringe, hoping that my unfilled social schedule doesn’t make me sound like a loser.

  “I’ll call you later today, okay? I need to get home and check some things on my calendar.” He takes my face in his hands and brushes his lips across mine. Standing up, he pulls me with him and kisses me again, deeper. He tastes like coffee and Drew. Heaven. He pulls away and grabs the newspaper off of the table and a duffel bag from the floor and I follow him down the hall to the door.

  “Wait here.” I hold up a hand so he doesn’t leave. It only takes me a second to grab what I need and return. “A gift, I don’t want to take a chance losing our luck.” I smile and hand him his revolting hat, making sure to balance it on my palms so I don’t have to touch it too much.

  He gives me his full out dimple-revealing grin, takes the cap out of my hands and shoves it on his head. “Me neither. Sydney, I’ll call you later.” Turning the brim around so he can kiss me one last time, I sigh and let him out of my loft.

  I realize that I may actually love that hat.

  Shit.

  Chapter 9

  “What about this one?” I hold up a slinky silver Naeem Khan cocktail dress for Leah’s approval.

  “Ooooh, I’ll definitely have to try that one on.” Leah snatches it from me and looks it over as I trail her through Bergdorf’s designer dress department.

  Leah has a date tonight with a guy she met at the opening night party for her dad’s latest Broadway show. She refuses to allow a personal shopper to choose dresses for her to try on, preferring to subject me to a day of torture on 5th Avenue.

  Luckily, her upcoming date has given her temporary amnesia, so she hasn’t asked me about Drew all afternoon. I know she’ll push me to have “the talk” with him, once she knows we’ve done the deed. Spectacularly. Over and over all night. Hmmmmm, I wish Drew would call….

  “Sydney! Hellooo!” Leah snaps her fingers in front of me to break me from my fantasy.

  “Huh?” Real intelligent response, Syd.

  “I said, do you think Carter will like this one?” She’s impatiently holding up a short, tight, black and white color-block Stella McCartney.

  “It’s gorgeous, Leah. I’m sure any of these dresses will knock him out. Let’s get over to the fitting room so we can see them on you.�
�� I spin her around and nudge her forward, eager to have a few minutes to sit and think. And rest my feet. Crap, these boots were a bad idea for a day of shopping with Leah. She listens to me for once, and heads over to try on the clothes.

  We load all of the dresses into the huge private fitting room, and I sit on one of the couches to wait. I retrieve my phone from my purse and wonder why in the hell Leah won’t use a personal shopper, or even allow a sales person to help us when we come here. She says it’s because she doesn’t like the “snooty attitude” or the “close scrutiny”, whatever the heck that means.

  Three years ago she got ripped apart on Page Six for a dress that a personal shopper at Bloomingdale’s chose for her, I think she believes that they’ll put her in something hideous on purpose and convince her she looks stunning.

  Checking my phone I see a missed call and a text from work. No texts or calls from Drew. Is it desperate and needy to text him? We spoke yesterday, and have plans to see each other tonight. He wants me to come over so he can make dinner for me. Apparently, he loves cooking, which explains his enthusiastic conversation with the chef at Sunset House the other night. I decide not to over think anything and go with my gut, typing out a quick text.

  Hey, stuck in hell at Bergdorf’s with Leah. Can’t wait for tonight.

  I smile and start to run through my emails, oohing and aahhhing at the various dresses as Leah models each one for me. Good, some of the furniture for Verve will be ready in ten days. That’s the fastest rush job for custom furniture ever. I call Jeff Talley and confirm that the demolition is almost complete. We discuss the remodel and I let him know that the painters will be there next week. Pressing end, I feel satisfied that the project is going well. I’m glad he didn’t mention Adam’s reference to me in GQ. Maybe they won’t see it?

  Yeah, right. Because no one wants free publicity for their big nightclub launch from a “huge” celebrity in a major magazine. Crap.

  Just as I start to feel the anxiety from the whole Adam thing creeping in, my phone chirps…