by Tina Holland
She fell forward, leaning over him, whispering in his ear as she tugged it with her teeth. “Your turn.”
That phrase broke through his senses. Peter needed Sydney in such a primal way, pulling out and pushing her off him. He changed positions so she faced downward on the bed, with her lovely ass up in the air. He could see her tender flesh glistening. Grasping her hips, he plunged into her depths and pulled out slowly. He drove into her with wildness and then retreated slowly. He watched her, as he repeated this technique a few more times. Sydney was enjoying Peter’s sweet torture and accepting his thrusts. Peter could feel her hand caressing him as he buried himself deep inside her. He took his hand and reached down to polish her pearl of passion. Sydney moaned, pushing her hips back towards him. Together they found the perfect rhythm. He could feel her tightening in anticipation. He moved quicker, and she met each plunge, faster and faster, until he felt her loins clasp him, and he abandoned himself to pleasure.
His phone rang, breaking the moment.
Peter dragged his body off of Sydney’s lushness and answered, “Hello.”
“Pete, this is Buzz. You been running boy? You sound winded.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, pull yourself together and pack your bags. I’m ready to close this deal today. I want you on the next plane to Las Vegas!”
“No problem.” Peter clicked his phone shut, collapsed on the bed and sighed. “I’m sorry honey, we gotta go.”
* * * *
Peter retraced his conversation with Sydney that morning as he flew to Vegas. “I don’t want to leave.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” She seemed saddened. “Well, it’s the thought that counts.”
“If thinking counts, Syd, I’ll be back in no time. When I think about you, I want you.”
She smiled.
“That was Buzz Caulfield. Do you remember me talking about him?” Peter asked.
“I think so. Texas oil guy and you’ve been kickin’ his butt in the air races.”
“I guess you remember.”
“I guess so.”
“Well, it looks like I’ll be closing a deal for him.”
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks? How long does it take to close a stock deal?”
“That’ll only take a few days. I’m going to an air-show, too.”
“Oh, you just want to play first. Boys and their toys.” She was teasing him, the minx!
“I’ll be back.”
“I know.
“You’re not upset?”
“No. This is good.”
“It is?” Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.
“Yeah. It’ll give me time to think about this.” Sydney gestured her hand back and forth between them.
“What’s to think about?”
“What I want out of this relationship.”
“You need to think about that? I already know what I want.” Peter began running his hand along her thigh.
“Peter, everyone knows what you want.”
They made love again. He was going to miss her, Sydney was right. He needed to put this relationship in perspective, too.
* * * *
The 747 was landing. It was nice to sit back and let someone else do the flying for a change. Buzz was planning on meeting him on the ground in Las Vegas. They would head over to Area 51 for The Desert Fly-in and Air-show in the morning.
Peter greeted Buzz at baggage claim.
“Thanks for picking me up.
“Not a problem, my boy. I’m just glad we can wrap this up and get to what’s important.”
“Where are we headed exactly?”
“Over to some architectural firm, Lott of Design, it’s called. Seems some guy over there holds the last few shares of W.O.O.D.”
“Sounds familiar. What did you say his name was?” Peter felt a flicker of apprehension.
“Lance Lott.”
Peter stared at Buzz as he tried to process information on a name he’d only heard once before.
Chapter 10
Sydney was in her office when the phone rang. “Hello.”
“I’m looking for Sydney Wagner.”
“Speaking.”
“Miss Wagner, this is Tara Fields with the Fields and Lowe Agency.”
“Yes.”
“I just finished your novel The Orange Sunset.”
Silence
“Miss Wagner, are you there?”
“Yes.” Her mouth was dry.
“I’d like to help you get your book published.”
Sydney mentally pinched herself. She must be dreaming. Sounding as calm as possible, she asked, “Who did you have in mind?”
“I have a few contacts in New York that I’d like to speak with. I like your original take on the historical—a roaring twenties twist. I’d like to stay in touch with you.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll overnight some company information and our basic contract. Look it over and let us know if we’ll be a good fit.”
“Okay.”
“I hope to hear from you soon.”
“Thanks. Goodbye.” Sydney placed her hands on her temples marveling at her Rain-man like communication skills. “Ugh!” She rested her head on her desk.
“What’s wrong, sunshine?” Courtney’s voice was light and cheery; that was unusual, especially lately.
“Nothing. I just got a call from an agent interested in my work.”
“That’s great! So how come you look like your dog died.”
“It’s so overwhelming.”
“It’s what you want.”
“I know. Everything is happening so fast.”
“Define everything.”
“My book, the business, your baby, falling in love with Pet…”
“Wait a minute, did you say love?”
“Yes. At least, I think so. Court, no guy has ever made me feel like this. I think about him all the time. Like right now I want to call him and tell him this news so I can hear his excitement.”
“Wow.” Courtney sat down with a stunned expression on her face. “I didn’t think you’d ever fall in love.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. I mean with this emotional baggage we lug around, I figured it was hopeless.”
“It’s not,” Sydney bristled.
“Don’t get defensive. I meant it as a good thing.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“If you can fall in love, it gives me hope. It means I might be able to find Mr. Right, too. He is Mr. Right, isn’t he?’
“I like to think Peter fits the bill.”
“What about Lance?”
“I haven’t dealt with that yet. I’m not sure what to tell Lance.”
“The truth.”
“I don’t want to tell him.”
“Why? Afraid he might fight for you?”
“No. I don’t really see Lance doing that.”
“It would be a first if he did.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means the man has never given any effort towards you. You’re merely a convenience.”
“You sound like Gwen.”
“If Gwen knows anything, it’s men. She’s right.”
“I know. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“Syd, Lance probably has feelings for you, but I doubt they’re as deep as you think.”
“I don’t want to lose his friendship.”
“If he’s your friend, he’ll stay your friend. The longer you procrastinate, the worse it’ll get.”
“Speaking of procrastination, have you told mom about the baby?”
“No.” Courtney was suddenly fascinated with the office flooring.
“To quote someone who's wise beyond her years, ‘the longer you—'”
“Okay, I get the idea.”
“You didn’t come in here to talk about my love life; what’s up?”
“I got my preliminary
test results back.”
“And?”
“The baby is fine. The doctor was concerned about my stress levels, though.”
”Imagine that. Single motherhood is stressing you out.”
“Yeah.”
“You know, Court, whatever happens with Peter, I’ll still be here for you.”
“Thanks. Well, that was pretty much all I had. I better leave so you can call Lance.” Courtney rose from the chair, walking towards the doorway.
“I hadn’t planned on calling him today.”
“Why not?” Without expecting an answer, she left Sydney to ponder the question alone.
Sydney reflected on all that occurred. Less than two weeks had passed since she had made her way to the Passionate Prose Writing Conference and pitched her book. Now, it was headed towards publishing. Courtney was going to be a mother. Sydney was in love. It was too much to absorb. She needed to talk to Lance, to break things off with him. She hoped they could remain friends. She picked the phone back up and dialed his number.
“Lott of Design, may I help you?”
“Is Lance in?”
“May I ask who is calling?”
“It’s Sydney Wagner.”
“One moment, please.”
Sydney waited for him to pick up the line. This was probably a bad time to call him, at work, but she wanted to get this over with.
“Hello.”
“Lance, it's Sydney.”
“I’ve got a meeting waiting. Can I call you later?”
“It’s kind of important.”
“Spit it out then.” He sounded impatient.
“I’m seeing someone.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s a pretty big deal.”
“Okay.” He sounded distracted.
“I love him.”
Silence.
“Lance, did you hear me?”
“Sydney, I have to run. We’ll talk later.”
Sydney sat stunned with the phone still at her ear. Didn’t Lance get it? Their relationship was over or at least changed. She couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.
Chapter 11
Peter waited in a conference room for Mr. Lott to arrive. Lance Lott was real. He couldn’t be real. Peter didn’t want that to be true. Sydney had a boyfriend, and Peter was about to meet him. Could things get any worse?
“Peter, my boy, what’s wrong with you? Look like you ate a bug.”
“Sorry, Buzz. Must be that airline food.”
“Dammit, boy, you know better than to eat that chicken-liver-in-a-box. Get it under control. I don’t want your lunch all over the table. Unless this meeting goes south, then feel free to let the cavalry out.” Buzz slapped him on the back, chuckling.
“Not a problem.”
“Good.”
Just then, the door opened and a woman similar in appearance to his own secretary popped her head in. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. Mr. Lott has a phone call. He’ll be with you shortly.”
“Sure thing, missy.” Thank God Buzz answered.
Peter’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Who was this Lance talking to? Sydney? Peter’s stomach turned. Why didn’t he believe her? Why hadn’t she mentioned it again? Sydney might think he was a Casanova, but Peter would never poach on someone else’s lady. He was sick with guilt over seducing Sydney.
He was lost when the door opened revealing his nemesis.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Lance. My apologies for the delay.”
As they exchanged pleasantries, Peter took in Lance’s height, build, black hair and blue eyes, understanding what attracted Sydney to this man. He imagined Sydney in this man’s arms and felt immediately jealous. He needed to calm down if he was going to make it through this exchange.
“Lance Lott, that’s an unusual name.” Peter’s voice was courteous but patronizing.
“Yes. My mother has an unusual sense of humor.” Lance replied undisturbed.
“That phone call … was that about the stock?” he persisted.
“No, it was personal.”
“I hope everything is all right.”
“Everything is fine.”
Buzz’s own voice broke in, “Excellent. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Somehow, Peter made it through next half-hour of negotiations. At the end of it, Buzz slapped him on the back, congratulating him on a job well done. He could hardly believe it himself. He had to call Sydney. He needed to find out what was going on.
“Buzz, I’ll meet you back at the hotel. We’ll have dinner and head to Area 51 in the morning.”
“That sounds fine. I’ll be buying you dinner tonight.”
When Buzz left, Peter flipped open his phone and made the call to Sydney.
“Starving Artist, Courtney speaking.”
“Is Sydney there?”
“No, she’s out for the day. May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Peter.”
“Should I have her call you back?”
“No. I’ll call her tomorrow. Thanks.” That was a good idea. He would sleep on this and call her in the morning. It would be a new day, and Peter could look on this with a fresh perspective.
* * * *
The air show was huge, filled with old war birds, prop-planes and even some of the spacecrafts being built privately in the aviation industry. Apparently, Greg Kitan was giving a seminar on his recent flight attempt into space.
Peter was already feeling better. It was probably best that he hadn’t spoken with Sydney the day before. He was upset, then. Tonight would be the perfect time to straighten things out and maybe have a little make-up phone sex. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly make-up sex, since Sydney didn’t know he was upset. He liked the idea of a little phone play with her. His mood, among other parts, was already lifting.
Peter headed towards the war birds. They were his personal favorite, not surprising, since he owned a P-51 Mustang himself. As he walked through, he was looking at all the nose-art.
“Peter, my boy, over here!” Buzz shouted from across the field, “You have got to have yourself a look at this art.”
Oh, brother. If there was a type of nose-art that Buzz admired, it always involved the female form. Peter made his way through the crowd of people and ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. He finally arrived at the plane Buzz was gawking at. “Yeah?”
“Look at those titties!” Buzz spoke with admiration, staring into heaven.
Peter moved his gaze up. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw. His mouth went dry, his vocal chords locked up, and he couldn’t speak. He would’ve known that pinup anywhere. It was his pinup. Sydney Wagner was naked on the side of a war bird. She never told him that she posed as a pinup. They talked about her writing, her business, and her dreams of getting published, but not this! She’d never once said, "I pose naked for planes." How did she think she could keep this from him, a pilot!?
“What do you think, Peter, my boy?”
“I think they’re better in person.” He was numb.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t you know? That’s my latest bird.” His voice was cold.
“Well, I’ll be dammed. You are one lucky bastard, you know that?”
“I wish I could agree with you.”
* * * *
Sydney sat reading her manuscript and waiting by the phone. She missed Peter’s call yesterday. Today, she spent most of the day at the printer, getting flyers for the store and business cards for herself. It should’ve only been a half hour, but a systems failure on the copier took three hours to repair. Her whole day went wrong. Courtney told their mother, Valerie, about the baby. Valerie handled it in stride, with minimal cursing. Sydney was there for support, just as she had promised. It was one more obstacle down. When her phone finally rang, she couldn’t wait to answer it; here was her rainbow.
“Hello?”
“Sydney.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah.” His voice
sounded tired.
“Sounds like you had a rough day, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really, but I have to, since it involves you.”
“Really?”
“Actually, let’s not talk about it. Let’s just say that I won’t be seeing you when I get back.” He said it in a nasty tone.
“What?” She couldn’t calm the chill settling across her skin.
“You heard me. I don’t want to see you.”
“Why?”
“Why!?” His laugh was raw. “I’ll give you two reasons.”
“Which are?” She was getting irritated. She imagined two redheads, two blondes, a blonde and a redhead…
“You know.” The slur in his voice told her he’d been drinking.
“Are you drunk?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that I met your boyfriend.”
“My boy…”
“That’s right. I met your knight, Mr. Lance Lott.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She tried to sound calm, even though her heart was beating frantically.
“It doesn’t matter. I still have reason number two.”
“Which is?”
“I know about you.”
“What do you know?”
“I’ve seen you naked.”
“Peter, you’re not making any sense.”
“I saw your tits on the side of a plane!” He blurted out.
She was irked by his crude statement.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to see the woman of your dreams on the side of a plane for the entire world to see? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? How could you keep this from me?”
“Peter, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. Honestly, I didn’t think it would matter. I mean, you’d dated Playboy models, for Gods’ sake. I didn’t see a difference.”
“You want to know the difference! I’ll tell you! I never loved any of them.”
“You love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I wish to hell I didn’t.”
“Peter, this shouldn’t matter.”
“I’m sorry, Sydney. You have no idea the roller coaster I’ve been on the last few days. I can’t handle these secrets you’ve kept.”