Lucky Number Four

by Amanda Jason

  Scooting over, I make room for him to join me, which he does instantly. We’re face to face, eyes to eyes, and I realize I’ve never had such an intense feeling like this. His gaze moves down to my bra, and before I realize it, it’s gone the way of my dress, and my scrap of underwear meets the same fate. His hand strokes me. I watch as his tanned skin moves over my pale body. The ache and the need for him to be inside me intensifies. I take his hardness in my hand and gently tug him, hoping he understands what I want—no, what I desire.

  “I won’t last long if you keep that up, Dora. I want this to be special,” he groans as I continue stroking him.

  “We can do it again, right?”

  I can’t believe I just asked that. He reacts by moving down the bed to circle my left nipple with his tongue. My hips move upward, and I feel like I’m going to explode. Every nerve in my body is on edge. I tug on his hair, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he latches on and gently sucks until I feel like I will lose my mind. His hand starts drawing circles on my stomach, inching closer to the place I want him to be. My hips move involuntarily as his hand cups me, and then he places his palm flat against me. I swear I’m going to die from the agony and intense sensations he’s causing to burst within me. I tug his hair again, and his tongue lets go of my nipple. I feel a loss, but then his fingers begin stroking me, and I want something different.

  I scoot down until my lips meet his. His fingers are pulled away, and I reach down and grab him, guiding him inside me. He doesn’t resist. Instead, he pushes farther until I feel I can’t wait anymore. I want—God, I don’t know what I want. But the pressure is so pleasurable that I wrap my legs around his waist, and then he’s moving quickly and I’m matching him stroke for stroke, and—

  What the hell?

  I scream into his mouth as a feeling so incredible washes over me. I hold onto him, riding on the waves of unbelievable sensations shooting through me.

  I’m exhausted, but so purely satisfied. Finally, I know what it feels like to have a big O, and it’s so not a disappointment. I’m lying here with the most famous face in the world, my arms and legs wrapped around him, and I never want to move.

  “Am I too heavy?” he asks, sounding like he’s trying to catch his breath.

  “No. Not at all. I don’t want you to move.”

  “That was more than I could have ever dreamed of. Yes, I’ve dreamed about you. I wanted to touch you all the time. It was so hard to keep my hands off you.”

  “I can tell how hard.” I giggle as I think about how hard he’d been.

  “Wait a few minutes and I’ll show you hard.” He nuzzles my neck and gently nips me.

  “A few minutes, really? Oh, you aren’t kidding.”

  “See what you do to me? I spent many a night hard as hell and with no relief, so I’m going to make you suffer as I did.” His hips move, and I feel the delicious pressure building again.

  “You call this suffering? Bring it on.” He kisses me soundly, and I can feel him grinning.

  “What time is it?” I ask, too tired to lift my head and look at the clock.

  “Who cares? I just care that I’m finally holding you in my arms. Time means nothing.” He gently squeezes me, and my feelings are all over the place. I lost track of how many times I had the big O, but all I can say is that the hype is so real.

  “Dora, go pack a bag. Not much. In fact, just clothes you’ll be traveling in.” He kisses the top of my head and jumps out of bed. Oh, lord, his butt is so tight, and his muscles, so many lean, hard muscles, I could look at him all day.

  “What for? Come back to bed.” I love this bolder Dora. I bet it’s because of the O’s—yep, I’ll have to look it up on the Internet.

  “Nope, you get up. We have somewhere to go, and I want to get there soon.” He picks up his pants, pulls them on, grabs his other clothes and then kisses me thoroughly.

  “I need a shower first, and you could join me.”

  “Tempting, but where we’re going—well, let’s say we’ll have plenty of time for showers. Now hurry.” He yanks open the door and closes it quietly behind him.

  Stretching, I feel little aches in places that have been ache free for so long. I always thought running was better than the phantom orgasm, but I was so wrong. The door suddenly opens.

  “You have fifteen minutes, so hurry.” Drew looks stern, but winks at me before he turns around and exits again.

  “Your father really owns this?” I can’t believe my eyes. I’m standing in the most beautiful penthouse suite atop a world-famous hotel, and I’ve just been informed we aren’t leaving for a week. I guess Sunday dinner won’t be happening.

  “Yes, but don’t hold it against me. I’m not my father. I’m selfish. I want you all to myself. The only interruptions will be room service, which we won’t see, as they’ve been instructed to leave the trolley in the foyer. Is that okay with you? I know school doesn’t start for another two weeks, and work too, so I want you and only you with me—in here with me.” He attempts a pitiful puppy-dog look, but it loses its effect when he adds a wicked smile.

  “Hmmm, I’ll have to think about this. Smexy guy with a hot body, or spending days with my roomies and friends, and let’s not forget Sunday dinner with my family? Gosh, I just don’t know.”

  I see him moving toward me with a grin. I try to dodge him playfully, but he grabs my waist before scooping me up to carry me over to the bed. “I guess I’ll have to persuade you to see it my way. Oh, I’m going to love this week together.”

  I’m sad the week is over, and I feel like it’s the end. No, nothing has really happened to make me feel this way. Being in paradise for seven days has been wonderful, but now the real world beckons me to come back to it.

  Last time I talked to anyone other than Drew was when I called my mom and told her I had plans and couldn’t make dinner. She told me I owed her big time, and then I called Jeff and he already knew about Drew’s secret plan, as did Julie and Kevin. After that, I did something I thought would never happen. I turned it off. No, not the sex. My phone.

  I lost count of the mind-blowing orgasms after the tenth, or was it twentieth? I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone of the opposite sex. Okay, there’s Jeff … but he doesn’t count.

  Drew snores lightly and turns over, uncovering his body from under the sheet. I now know every inch of him. Yes, I know I saw him naked in class, but seeing him for seven days has spoiled me for any other body. I long to run my fingers over him now, but I must start detaching myself. Whatever this is won’t last. It’s time to be honest with myself. We move in different worlds, poles apart. I should be happy that we got to spend this time together, but I can’t muster one ounce of happiness.

  Hell, I think I’ve fallen for him. What would he say if I told him that? He wouldn’t say anything because he’d move halfway across the world to avoid me.

  “Morning.” His deep voice pulls my eyes up to his smiling ones.

  “Good Morning.” I smile back and hope it looks genuine.

  All I want to do is fling myself into his arms and declare my undying devotion—okay, it should be another word, but he would definitely die of heart failure if I said “love.”

  He begins tracing one of his fingers down my cheek and leans over, allowing his mouth to follow his finger as it makes its way all the way down. Desire washes through me as it has many times during this past week. We come together like it’s been forever since we last touched one another instead of only a couple of hours.

  Two hours later, we’re showered, dressed and ready to leave. It’s quiet as we ride down the private elevator and drive out of the empty, secluded parking garage. The one little thing that gives me hope is that since we entered the car, Drew has held my hand. His thumb rubs circles that make me want to make him pull over the car and rub his thumb somewhere else.

  “Dora, we need to talk,” he says as we pull into the parking space at our building.

  Here it comes: “It’s been great, wonderfu
l, really, but you have your life and I’ve got mine and it just won’t work.” I say to myself as I stiffen, preparing for the inevitable conversation.

  “I have a shoot I have to do in Florida, and I have to leave tonight. I was wondering, actually hoping, that you’d come with me. You still have another week until school and work start again, right?”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. I’ve died and gone to heaven. A reprieve.

  “You’re not tired of me yet?” I ask, trying to sound light-hearted. Inside, I’m jumping up and down for joy, pushing all dread aside.

  “Of course not. I’ve found I’m extremely partial to a certain special short, fiery redhead, and I don’t want her out of my sight for a minute.”

  Don’t cry, Dora, don’t you dare. My eyes are filling up, and I turn my head to look out the window so he won’t see.

  “Yeah, I’ve still got a hankering for a tall, model type, and I too don’t want him to be out of my sight. What a coincidence.” Finally in control of my emotions, I turn and pull his head down so I can kiss him gently—except he has other plans, and I swear if a horn hadn’t honked, we would’ve been naked in seconds.

  I’ve never been on a private jet before, and sitting in the overstuffed leather reclining seats makes my fear of flying more bearable. Drew had brought my hand to his lips after he buckled me in and he hasn’t let go. We’ve been up in the air for an hour. In front of me is a Coke I ordered, as I didn’t trust drinking alcohol. I didn’t want to take a chance of throwing up miles above ground. We’re on our way to a private beach resort in south Florida, and should arrive in a few hours.

  “Did you know there’s a bed in the back?” Drew leans over and whispers to me, even though we’re all alone.

  “Don’t you be getting any ideas. For one thing, I don’t think I’m up to joining the mile-high club, especially since I’m not even sure I can move from my seat without throwing up. Second, I don’t want an accidental audience. And three, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve done the deed, and I think my lady bits need a breather.” I giggle as he swoops down, silencing me with a hard kiss.

  “Okay, but when we get there, you’re mine all night. And it’s been at least more than a forty times because we’ve gone through several boxes of Trojans.”

  I blush, and oh God, I love that I’ll be his tonight.

  I must have somehow dozed off. I feel the plane descending, and I see crystal blue water and sandy beaches outside my window.

  “Hello, sleepyhead. Anyone would think you haven’t had much sleep lately. Oh wait, you haven’t.” He kisses me swiftly as the wheels touch down on the runway, bouncing us a little.

  It’s beautiful. Sunny skies and a mild, balmy temperature greet us when we leave the plane. It’s heavenly not to have inches of snow and shivering ice-cold winds tearing through my clothes. A limo is waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. I feel like royalty as I sink into the backseat, absorbing the lavish luxury surrounding me. Let me tell you, kissing in the back of a tricked-out limo is amazing. Of course, we put up the privacy window thingy. There’s so much groping and clothes rearranging that I feel when we stop and the door opens, everyone will know what we’ve been up too.

  “Dinner out or dinner in?”

  I’m standing at a window in a penthouse suite, in awe of the panoramic view of the gulf, complete with a setting sun.

  “Whichever you’d like,” I reply, still watching the sun as it continues to sink into the water.

  Drew pulls me into his arms and we watch the dying rays together.

  “Okay, let’s eat in and then walk on the beach, and then…”

  “Then?” I prompt as he pulls me closer and I feel what “then” is, but it seems like it will be “now” and “then.”

  A long hour later, we’re seated at a cozy patio table on the veranda, eating an abundance of food. We’re dressed in matching plush white robes and the cool sea breeze is gently caressing our exposed skin.

  “I think I just gained about ten pounds,” I say as I pull away from the table, amazed at the amount of food I just ingested.

  “We’ll just have to find a way to work those off then, now won’t we?” Drew scoots his chair over and pulls me onto his lap, his hand working at the knot in my robe.

  “Wait, we have to wait an hour after eating,” I state firmly and giggle at his awkward attempt at undoing my robe.

  “That applies to swimming, and that’s not what I have in mind. What the hell have you done to this knot?”

  “It’s called a ‘keep your hands off me’ knot, and that means you.” I slap playfully at his hands and he pulls up the bottom of my robe. The devilish strokes of his hand on my exposed skin cause me to shiver. He stands up, and I moan at the loss of his hand. He holds me tightly as he takes me to the massive California King-sized bed, throws me in the middle and joins me, shedding his own robe in one fluid motion.

  Several hours later, I’m exhausted, so spent that I haven’t even the energy to walk on the moonlit beach like we talked about earlier. Drew is sound asleep, and I curl up next to him. I feel his arm drape around me before pulling me closer. I feel my eyes growing heavy. I sigh as Drew plants a kiss on my head.

  I wish we could stay this way forever.

  “But I want you to come with me. I don’t want us separated for a minute,” Drew says sweetly.

  “Okay, I’ll hang out with you today, but tomorrow I’m going to the beach. I need to get a tan.”

  “No way are you sunbathing on the beach. I’ll have to beat all the guys to a pulp who get a glimpse of you. Anyway, I bet you don’t tan.” He puts his hands on his hips, looking me up and down.

  “No, but they have umbrellas I can hide under, and if I take it slow, I’ll get some color.”

  “But I love your skin just the way it is. I don’t want it burned.” He’s running a finger down my arm now.

  “You’re just looking out for you. If I get burned, it will be no more fun. I’m a big girl and I’ll make the decision. Don’t worry, I won’t burn.” I lift his finger from my arm and slide my mouth up and down it, watching his eyes go dark with desire.

  “Not fair. We have to leave, and I can’t do a shoot all hard and horny. I don’t have time for a cold shower. I’ll make you pay for this later.”

  I giggle and move quickly away from him, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. Let’s just say the elevator ride down didn’t cure either of his problems.

  The shoot is a beehive of activity, and I’m suddenly really nervous being here with Drew. Moving down the sand, I walk a few feet behind him. A guy with a clipboard has been by his side since we left the limo. The sun is bright, even with my sunglasses, and the sand is loose, so it’s really hard to walk on. I’m praying I don’t fall flat on my face. That would be a total fail and would probably embarrass both Drew and me.

  I tug on the short shorts I’m wearing, feeling self-conscious as a few people start staring at me. I left my hair down and the wind is blowing the curls in my eyes. I dig in my bag for a headband to keep it out of my face.

  When I look up, Drew is far ahead of me and clipboard boy trying to keep up with his long strides. The sight would probably have made me laugh if I wasn’t feeling so self-conscious right now. More people join the original gawkers as I pass by them. I feel like there’s a spotlight on me instead of the sun.

  As if Drew can read my mind, he stops in mid-stride and pivots, ignoring Mr. Clipboard. He jogs back and puts his arm around me, making more people take notice.

  “Sorry, Dora. I had to work out some problems with the shoot. I didn’t forget about you, honest. Don’t worry about our audience. They’re just wondering where I found such a hot woman.” He squeezes me close, and my confidence rises by at least ten percent.

  “Drew, hurry. The lighting is perfect for a morning shot, and then I think we’ll break until sunset to get the rest. Alex is waiting for you in the red tent, so get a move on,” an older woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth be
lts out like she thinks he’s hard of hearing. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest, and pencils are stuck behind both ears. The best part is that she’s as short as I am, so I immediately feel a kinship with her.

  “Sandra, this is Dora Phillips, and those things are going to kill you.” He points at her cigarette while shaking his head.

  “Hi, nice to meet ya, Dora, and no, these won’t kill me. Angela will. I can’t believe Joe put her on this shoot. She’s a fuckin’ bitch, and I refuse to be nice to her. I’ll probably be handed a pink slip, but I’m fuck-nuts fed up with that prima donna attitude of hers. She thinks that just because she’s the hot thing right now, she can act like a complete twat.” Sandra stops her tirade, takes a drag and then turns to shout at a man nearby.

  “Sorry, have to run. Red tent, Drew, and Dora, hope you enjoy yourself.” She doesn’t wait for a reply as she rushes toward the poor man she just yelled at. He looks petrified.

  “Don’t let the cursing like a sailor and chain smoking fool you, she’s actually a really sweet woman,” Drew says. “She’s been married three times, has four children, and six grandchildren. She’s the director of this organized chaos, and she won’t get fired because everyone is scared of her. We better get to the tent before I get yelled at too.” He leads me to a row of huge tents, all different loud colors. “Yeah, the prop man loves color.” Again, it’s like he’s reading my mind.

  Inside the tent, the air is cooler, and two chairs that look like they belong in a beauty salon are sitting in the middle. Surrounding the chairs are rolling carts full of drawers and bins. A multicolored-haired young woman popping her gum is standing by one of the chairs buffing her nails.

  “Thank god you’re here. I thought Sandra was going to have a heart attack. I know CPR, but everyone would hate me if I brought her back to life. Now get your ass in the chair. I have to make your ugly butt beautiful.” Her New York accent is obvious, and I instantly like her feistiness.