I text Drew as we pull down his street and he jumps into the car the second it stops in front of his brownstone. I notice he has a small duffel with him and he’s wearing his new ‘Good Luck’ hat. “Wishful thinking, Mr. Forrester?” I nod my head towards his bag and his hat.
“A man can hope, Sydney.” He smiles and kisses me. “We can talk later, just relax babe.” I inhale his intoxicating scent and burrow under his arm for the short ride to my place.
Drew drops his bag by the door and hugs me close. “Are you hungry? I can order something.”
“Actually, I just want to soak in the tub. Care to join me?”
He ducks his head and I can feel him smile against my ear. “A guy would have to be crazy to turn down an invitation like that.”
Well, you may not like me as much after I tell you about the meeting I had today.
I start the water for my giant jetted tub; it’s one of my favorite possessions even though I don’t use it very often. It’s huge and oval shaped, with light bamboo woodwork elegantly wrapped around the base. Opening a drawer by the sink, I grab an elastic and knot my hair up into a messy bun on my head.
Drew comes into the bathroom with two bottles of beer and sets them on the far side of the tub. “Let me undress you.” He takes my suit jacket and removes it from my shoulders and sets it on the countertop. Untucking my ivory silk camisole, he pulls it over my head and tosses it with the jacket.
“Turn around.” I comply and he lowers the zipper on my skirt, letting it drop to the floor. I kick it aside and he guides me to sit on the edge of the tub. Drew puts his hands on my left thigh and glides them down to my foot. Kneeling, he unbuckles my heel and removes it while staring into my eyes. Letting the shoe clatter to the tile floor, he reaches up and repeats his movements with my other leg. Still kneeling between my legs he takes off his hat, wraps his arms around my waist and plants soft hot kisses on my belly. I feel my sex tighten from the contact with his wet mouth.
Drew stands up and starts shedding his clothes. In one swift motion he grabs the back collar of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, dropping it behind him. He kicks off his Chucks and removes his jeans, boxer briefs and socks all at once. He’s so beautiful that I can’t breathe. I take in his gorgeous face, his seductive mouth, his flawlessly toned physique. I lower my gaze over his perfect six pack and stare at the ‘v’ that his obliques make at his waist, then continue down to his waiting erection and shiver in anticipation.
“Stand up, Sydney.” I do as he says and he steps forward, reaching around to unclasp my bra, his cock pressing against my stomach. He slides it down my arms and lets it fall. Hooking his fingers into my panties, he quickly disposes of those as well. Drew holds out a hand, I take it and sink into the hot water. He carefully slides in behind me and hands me one of the cold bottles.
“Mmmmm, the water feels so good.” I take a sip of my beer and lean against Drew, letting the jets ease my tense muscles.
“You feel so good.” He rubs my shoulders and I groan and drop my head back against his chest. “Talk now or later?”
“Later,” I sigh. He takes my beer and puts it back on the edge of the tub. Squirting a large amount of body wash into his hands he starts washing me. His large fingers glide over my arms and up to my collarbone, reaching down to knead my breasts. I luxuriate in the sensation and push back against his the thick hardness that rests against my back. His hands freeze for a second on my breasts, then continues to massage me. Drew deftly rolls my nipples in his fingers, quickly bringing them to hard peaks.
He gets more soap and washes my down my back, snaking his arms around me when he reaches my waist, dropping one hand between my legs to draw circles on the small bundle of nerves. Gasping, I gyrate against him, unable to control myself as the scorching heat builds inside me.
I need to feel close to him before I can tell him about the party; in case this is the last time he wants to see me. I lift slightly and push back; reaching underwater between my legs I grasp him tightly and direct the tip of his cock into my slick opening, sliding down as far as I can.
“Ahhhh, Sydney.” I start moving up and down, sitting on his lap with my back to his front, consumed with sensation. “Fuck, I can’t believe how good you feel.” He starts biting my neck and shoulder roughly, completely out of control. Both of us are, our needs primal and animalistic in this heated moment.
“Drew, oh God,” I slam down harder on his cock and frantically raise and lower my hips, my restraint as unchecked as his. He wraps his big hands around my waist and jerks me down forcefully as he slams into me faster, over and over, bringing us both to the precipice.
I grip the sides of the tub, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. Drew continues meeting each of my downward movements with an upward thrust of his hips. The noises we both make are unrestrained, hedonistic.
We come together, water sloshing all around us as we both fall over the edge. Drew grunts loudly behind me as my sex grips him forcefully, convulsing around his cock as he releases.
I lie back against his heaving chest, breathing rapidly as a heavenly tingling sensation fires through every nerve ending in my body. Shifting slightly, I see his head thrown back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed as he recovers.
I turn my body around fully, straddling him so I can look at his beautiful face. He lifts his head and brings his hands to my cheeks, pressing soft kisses to my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back tenderly, never wanting this moment to end.
But it does end, and as usual, it ends spectacularly. The alarmed look on Drew’s face says it all. “Sydney, I didn’t wear a condom.”
Fuck.
Pacing in front of my fireplace like a caged animal, Drew is freaking out. “I can’t believe I was so careless! I’ve never done that, never!” He’s shouting as he walks back and forth, stressing me out more with every step.
“Drew, calm down.” I’m sitting on the couch, watching the confident, controlled man I know unravel in front of me.
His head snaps up. “Calm? Sydney, I’m pissed at myself. I can’t believe I did that to you. I’m so sorry. I just don’t even know what to say.”
Whoa. He’s mad because he thinks he wronged me somehow not because he might have knocked me up?
“Wait, I was just as caught up in the moment as you were, Drew. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want you to do.”
He drops to the floor in front of me and puts his head in my lap. “I’m so sorry, Sydney. It’s the first time I’ve ever forgotten to use protection.” Shit, he really is blaming himself. “I’m supposed to take care of you and look out for you, not put you into more stressful situations for my own selfish pleasure.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Look at me.” I run my fingers through his damp hair. He lifts his head and I capture his gaze with mine. “It’s okay, Drew. I run so much I don’t even get regular periods, so I’m sure nothing will happen. You don’t owe me an apology; I won’t allow you to feel like this. It was consensual, and we’re both adults, we’ll deal with whatever happens.”
Dear God don’t let me get knocked up.
He relents, but I see that it’s not by choice. “Alright, but I don’t like this at all Syd. But 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.”
So he’s upset because he thinks I’m upset? God he’s such a caveman sometimes. But a hot, sexy, bossy, well-meaning caveman.
“Let’s order some food.” I kiss him on the lips to end the conversation.
We eat in relative silence, containers of Thai food scattering the kitchen counter. Drew tells me how he wasn’t sure what to pack for California, since it would be unlikely that he’d get out much.
He lets me know that he passed along my sincere thanks to Chad, his friend who owns the St. Bart’s villa and the sailboat, Magic Hour. Apparently Chad was more than happy to h
ave someone using both, since he hardly ever gets to go there himself. Drew describes Chad, and how he’s known him for more than ten years.
When he tells me how long he’s known his friend, I realize I don’t know something. “Drew, how old are you?” I’m embarrassed that I never asked him.
He smiles, probably ecstatic that I’m asking him such a personal question. “Twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty on March 8th.”
My gut twists when he says his birthday. That’s the same day as the launch party for Verve. Of course, Drew being Drew, observant as usual, sees my face fall. “What, am I too old for you or something?” He looks nervous, like I’m going to dump him because of his age.
“No, that’s not it,” I reassure him, “It just reminded me that I have something to ask you, related to my work.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin and stand up from the table. “Are you done? Let’s go into the living room.” Without a word, Drew stands up, puts his dish in the sink, and follows me down the hall.
We curl up on one of the couches and I decide how to begin. “Okay, you know that I’m redesigning the new nightclub at the Warren. Well, when one of these clubs launches, they have a huge party. They invite people who will bring the most exposure to their business, like…you know…celebrities and what not.” I feel Drew stiffen next to me.
Shit, this isn’t going well.
He sits up a little straighter and waits for me. I clear my throat. This is really hard, crap. I continue, “Ummm, the bigwigs that run the Warren Hotel chain saw the interview in GQ.”
Drew’s head whips around and he stares at me, eyes narrowed. “The interview with Adam Reynolds?” he snarls.
My eyes widen at his hostility. “Yes, that interview. He mentioned Verve and that he knew about it through me, and called the Warren to get an invite.”
“Okay. Is that why you were so unhappy when you left work? You already knew about the article.” I cannot read his expression. His face is totally neutral. It reminds me of the mask that my mom the actress would wear to hide her real feelings.
“Well, ummm…” I feel the hot burn of embarrassment. I’m ashamed to have to ask the guy I’m seeing to be okay with me going on a fake date with a hot celebrity, and I’m more than humiliated to have to admit that the hot celebrity wants to go on a date with me more than I want to go with him.
“So, the mention in the article set off a firestorm of A-listers calling to get on the invite list. Management at the Warren feel it’s only right to repay Adam by granting his request to be at the party…and…ummm, his request to be my date.” I cringe, waiting for his reaction.
He sits there for a moment, processing what I’ve just said. “And you said yes?” I see his fists clench in his lap. This is not good.
And there’s the problem, right there. I said yes.
I didn’t really, but somehow that’s how it ended up and that’s what’s going to matter to Drew. “No. Not at first.”
“Not at first,” he repeats, still showing no emotion whatsoever except for those tight fists.
“Drew, I said no! I told them I was seeing someone, and I wasn’t going on a date with anyone but you.”
His careful composure breaks and his eyes grow large and I swear, they almost bulge right out of his head. “You mentioned me?”
“Well, I told them I was seeing someone. I didn’t mention you specifically.” I narrow my eyes. “Why, do I embarrass you or something?” Now I was getting pissed, but I can’t wear the neutral mask like Drew can.
“Of course you don’t embarrass me Sydney!” He bellows, “You’re the one who doesn’t want to talk about anything, or know anything! I’m just shocked as hell that you would even tell anyone that I exist!”
My breath leaves my body as though I’ve been punched in the stomach. “That’s how you think I feel about you? That I want to pretend you don’t exist?” I choke out in a weak voice.
“No, that’s not what I meant, shit. I don’t know Sydney, I’m still stuck on the whole date with Adam Reynolds bomb you dropped on me. I don’t share.” He runs his hands through his thick hair, making it stick out every which way off his head. He looks even hotter when he’s pissed and bewildered and that kind of makes me even angrier.
“It’s not a date!” I yell, standing up and facing him. “I told them I would only go if I could bring you and that Adam understood that we,” I motion between the two of us, “Would hang out with him and talk to him but that’s it!”
He gets to his feet and stands in front of me, a good seven inches taller, roaring back at me. “But you can’t stand celebrities, Sydney! That’s what you said! There will be cameras and famous people everywhere! I just don’t get it!”
I refuse to back down. “I don’t like any of that shit, Drew! I hate it! It fucking ruined my life, okay? I’m still screwed up from it. I don’t want to go to the party at all, but when the boss of a multi-billion dollar hotel chain tells you to show up at his party, you have to show up! I have no choice!” I fall back on the couch and fold my arms across my chest, a sullen scowl on my face.
Drew sighs, and hangs his head. He takes a deep breath and sits down next to me. I can feel him trying to rein in the anger that is radiating off of his body. “I’m sorry Sydney. I won’t ask you about your past, since you aren’t ready to tell me, but I won’t know if I can go with you until I get to California and see how my schedule is and how the project is going. I understand that you have to be there, but I’m not going to pretend to like it In fact, it makes me want to punch Adam Reynolds right in the head.”
He’s jealous! I can’t believe it. Drew is a thousand times hotter than Adam and he’s jealous of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping this on you. It’s on your birthday and it’s probably not your idea of a good time.” I feel shitty for doing this to Drew. “If you can’t make it, I get it.”
He leans in and touches his nose to mine. “I’ll try my best to be there, if for no other reason than to keep him from hitting on my woman. Let’s go to bed.”
I guess I’ll have to wait and see how this plays out. It has everything I hate rolled into one awful night: celebrities, paparazzi, attention on me, and a pissed off Drew…I’m looking forward to it about as much as a root canal.
Chapter 21
I have the Warren Hotel’s driver drop me off at Leah’s place after work the next day. Drew got a call and had to leave a day earlier than he thought, so he’s somewhere over the Rocky Mountains right now. I hate that we fought right before he left. Even though we made up, it was still a little tense this morning.
Damn Jeff Talley and Adam Reynolds!
I haven’t seen Leah since I got back from the Caribbean with Drew, and she’s dying for details. Plus, she had a couple more dates with the Media Mogul’s son and wants to dish. So we’re having a “girl’s night in”, complete with margaritas and veggie pizza from our favorite place.
I’m not telling her about the bathtub incident, so I’ll fake drinking the alcohol to avoid explaining. I’m pretty sure you can’t be pregnant one day later, but I have no idea and I can’t deal with that mess tonight.
“Sydney!” Leah’s squeal just about shatters my eardrums as she lets me into her East Village condo.
“Hey Leah.” I return her enthusiastic hug and throw my bag and coat on the big gray chair near the door. Her condo is perfect for her, it’s open and modern, in shades of white and steel gray. One entire side of her home is windows, with panoramic views of Gramercy Park where her parents and my mom live, and the buildings uptown. I kick my shoes off and throw myself down on her enormous white couch curling my legs up underneath my body.
“Grab a drink. I put one on the end table for you. Pizza will be here soon.” Leah comes out from the kitchen with her margarita and sits on other end of the couch. She’s adorable all dressed down with no makeup, in her yoga pants and oversized T-shirt with her dad’s latest Broadway play emblazed on the front, her blonde hair swept up into a messy bun.
“So…
” she looks at me expectantly. “Drew? Caribbean? Got anything to say about it?” She giggles and scoops up her margarita, popping the lime off of the edge of the glass and sucking on it playfully, then dropping it into her drink and drowning a big gulp. At least one of us gets to act like they’re in their early twenties.
I smile coyly and pretend to sip my margarita. “We had fun.”
I’ll have to dump this out later when she’s not looking.
Leah straightens up, her smile vanishing. “Oh no, no way. I want details. Lots of them. You can’t stay single for all this time, leave my coffee shop with one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, go away with him to a super-exclusive island in the Caribbean and just tell me you had fun!” Her blonde hair is bobbing around on the top of her head as she chastises me.
Laughing at her mini tantrum, I tell Leah about the private jet, the extravagant villa on the hill, the sailboat with a full crew. I show her pictures that I took of the garden at the house, on the sailboat, of Drew asleep by the pool. He has no idea I took that one. Leah just about loses it whenever I show her a photo of Drew shirtless. She squeals again when I give her the black coral bracelet I bought for her on St. Bart’s.
“Syd, it looks like it was so fantastic. I’m really, really happy for you. So, what’s the plan from here?”
Obviously, my best friend wants to know where my relationship is going. Certainly, she’s been waiting for this conversation since we were sixteen and I should have had my first boyfriend, if I were normal, which I’m clearly not.
“Well, you know he’s working out of town for the next six weeks or so,” she nods and makes a ‘hurry up and continue’ motion with her hand. “So, he’s going to fly back several times while he’s gone and I guess we’re not seeing other people.” I shrug. “That’s it.”
Oh, and there’s a very slight chance that I may be pregnant because of incredibly hot bathtub sex.
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