“Here we are,” Philippe exclaims as he pulls up and parks in the sand alongside an empty beach. Drew helps me out of the car and I can see a man standing by a small inflatable boat at the shoreline and a sleek blue sailboat moored just offshore, bobbing in the calm turquoise waters of the bay.
“It’s beautiful. Whose boat is it?” I wonder out loud.
“It’s Chad’s. He has a crew on call, so I had them prep the boat and they’ll sail it for us since I know nothing about sailing and this boat is too big for one person anyway.”
This Chad guy loves the finer things in life. “You have a great friend to let us use all of his expensive toys. I hope I get to thank him in person someday.”
A disconcerting look flashes across Drew’s face and is gone just as fast. “Yes, hopefully. Let’s get aboard, ready Sydney?” He holds out his hand and helps me into the dingy. Drew gets me settled on one of the round inflated sides of the boat that doubles as a seat, then places our bag with our bathing suits and other gear in the boat. He stops to tug his hat down over his brow and hops in across from me. “Philippe, around 4pm?”
“I’ll be here, Mr. Forrester. Miss Allen, enjoy your day.” Philippe pushes the inflatable out into the water and the man driving fires up the engine. The young man says nothing, and the trip to the boat is so short that introductions seem pointless, so we just sit in silence as we bounce over the waves. I take in the tropical greenery as it curves around the small rocky harbor that surrounds us. There are about a dozen other boats moored off shore, but most beachgoers are all the way on the other side of the bay from us, so they just look like little dots on the sand. Since it’s barely 10am the beach is still empty, most vacationers are still sound asleep.
Our pilot steers the small craft up next to the sailboat and a middle-aged man dressed in a white polo shirt and white shorts and a similarly dressed younger man grab the ropes that are tossed to them and tie us up.
“Welcome to the ‘Magic Hour’,” the man announces as he helps us onto the sailboat.
“Thank you, I’m Drew, this is Sydney.” We all exchange handshakes.
“I’m Frederick, your Captain, and this is Robert, one of the crew. I’ll give you a quick tour and we’ll head out. Winds are perfect today; the water isn’t too choppy so it’s going to be a great sail.” We follow Captain Frederick into the cabin as he describes the sailboat, “This is a 200ft Perini Navi sloop. She has five cabins and can sleep twelve. With her sails up she can reach 15.5 knots, which is about 20 miles per hour if you were wondering.”
He continues talking about the technical aspects of the boat which has Drew fascinated, but I’m more interested in the lavish interior. Everything is honey colored hardwoods and white duck cloth. The main cabin has a huge L-shaped couch and matching oversized ottoman. Windows arc uninterrupted to span three sides of the room, offering panoramic views of the sea. A full galley and massive dining table are further back in the space as is the door to the office. Stairs lead down to the two levels of sleeping areas, each room well-appointed in the same white fabrics and blonde wood.
We go back up and outside to the main deck where there is a semi-circular padded bench that could seat twenty people. Drew leads me over to it and he throws his arm around me as we sit.
“So, sail around the island? Maybe a stop at a nearby reef for some swimming and snorkeling? What do you think, Sydney?” Drew asks me as Frederick waits patiently for orders. From the corner of my eye I see Robert and another young man making preparations to leave.
“Sounds great.” I spin his cap around backwards so I can plant a kiss on his beautiful lips. “Let’s go.”
Smiling, Drew turns to the Captain. “You heard the lady, let’s do it!” He grabs me playfully and nuzzles my neck, sending goose bumps down my spine, causing me to squeal in delight.
I’ve never been sailing, and the Magic Hour is spectacular. Once her massive sails are up, I can’t see the top of them as they tower above us. We skim effortlessly across the sparkling Caribbean Sea, so clear in places that it seems as if we can see down hundreds of feet to the sandy bottom.
A nice young woman in the same white polo shirt and shorts brings us something to drink and asks us what we’d like to have her prepare for lunch. We tell her to make something light and tropical. I don’t want to eat a ton and then go snorkeling or swimming.
After making a wide circle around St. Bart’s the crew moors the boat in a quiet spot by a small, rocky c-shaped island that juts out of the water as if reaching for the sun. Drew and I sit at an outdoor dining table to enjoy a lunch of grilled snapper with coconut rice and mango salsa. It’s exactly what I imagined a meal on a huge sailboat in the Caribbean would taste like, simple, fresh and slightly sweet.
“I can’t believe you are drinking a panty ripper!” I laugh so hard that I have to wipe a tear away.
Drew gives me a belligerent look. “It’s just pineapple juice and coconut rum Syd. Besides, you’re drinking one.”
I watch him sip his drink, a wedge of pineapple on the glass and a tiny umbrella stuck in it and hysterically laugh all over again.
He glares at me and I attempt to stop giggling, but I can’t. When a smile cracks his pathetic attempts to be mad at me, I know he’s just pretending to be upset.
After lunch we decide to sunbathe on deck for a while, waiting to snorkel around the reefs that surround the boat. The high point for me is getting to slather sunblock all over Drew’s back and shoulders. I cheat a little, feeling him up longer than I have to, but I can’t help it. His body is just so touchable; his skin feels hot and hard under my hands. Suddenly, I’m dizzy with desire. The alcohol from lunch, the smell of coconut lotion, and the rubbing of Drew’s half naked body have given my libido a swift kick start.
Frustrated, I fling myself down on the chair to avoid making a spectacle. It’s hard to remember that we aren’t alone, even though the crew does a great job of becoming almost invisible. In fact, the only people who’ve said anything to us directly are the Captain and the nameless girl who brings us food and drinks.
Drew grins and leans over toward my chair. “Did you enjoy molesting me, Miss Allen?”
Bastard!
I huff and turn back to my book. “No, not at all.”
He laughs and resumes reading whatever it is that he has on his iPad, not saying another word.
A few hours later, we’re floating around in the warm water, watching the schools of colorful fish dart around the anemones that live amongst the coral. It’s so peaceful, except for when Drew swims in front of me and makes weird faces behind his mask. Once I nearly choke when I laugh too hard into my snorkel.
Jackass!
Drew points out a huge green turtle paddling along the bottom of the ocean, nibbling the sea grass that sways in the current. The turtle must be almost five feet long from head to tail. I remember from my research that it’s illegal to harm or even touch one of these graceful creatures, so I keep my distance, even swimming back some when he gets a little too close.
After a while, Drew indicates that it’s time to go by gesturing at his wrist like he’s checking the time. Grabbing my hand we swim back to the boat.
For the return trip to the harbor we decide to sit on the huge couch in the main cabin. Being a red-head and all, I felt like I might be getting too much sun, and Drew was particularly concerned about getting burned on his face or shoulders even though he’s barely gotten any color. He stretches out on the couch and I lie on top of him, loving the feel of his hard body beneath me, the scent of the sea mingling with the scent of Drew.
I think we both must fall asleep because Robert comes in to let us know that we’re back at the harbor. Even with the nap, I’m exhausted by the time we get out of the rubber dingy and trudge up onto the sand where Philippe waits for us, but I still can’t seem to wipe the smile from my face.
Chapter 17
When I wake up I feel the warm ocean breeze caress my naked skin. I reach over for Drew and realiz
e I’m alone. Another night without a single bad dream.
Hmmm, maybe he really does keep them away.
I stretch and think about how perfect yesterday was. After the day of sailing, we had a light dinner and made love outside by a crackling fire that Drew started in the fire pit by the pool. How have I gone so long without regular sex? Grinning, I get out of bed and go looking for Drew.
I find him sitting on one of the double chaises, staring out at the sea. He looks uncharacteristically sad, so I tuck myself in next to him. “Hey,” he says, putting his arm around me.
“Hey, are you okay? You seem so unhappy sitting here. Did you sleep okay?” I put my hand on his arm and rub my thumb back and forth over his warm skin.
“Yeah, I’m great. I’ve been checking emails, prepping for work. Just thinking about going back tomorrow and having to leave for California later in the week. About how little we know about each other. About how much I’ll miss you.” He turns to stare right into the depths of my eyes as he says the last part.
I swallow uneasily, he knows I hate talking about my past, but it clearly upsets him that we can’t be closer. He wants to be closer, I can feel it. He wants to confirm that I feel the same way before he leaves for work. And I do, I want to know about him. I just need more time to trust him with that part of me.
These feelings are still too new for me. I’m in uncharted territory, so used to putting up the wall and keeping everyone out, I can’t just turn it off at will. He told me I don’t have to answer anything that I don’t want to, so I have to trust that he’ll respect that.
“What do you want to know?” I ask quietly, watching the trees move in the gentle wind.
He sits up straight and out of the corner of my eye, I can see that he has turned his upper body toward me. I can’t look at him though. I know he wants me to face him so he can stare me down with those damn green eyes of his, but I’m too uncomfortable. He’s way too observant.
“Why don’t you watch TV or read magazines or go to the movies?”
Straight for the jugular again, in true Drew style.
I take in a shaky breath. “I….it’s just… I mean.”
He reaches out and pulls my chin so I have to look at him. “Sydney, you can trust me. I care about you.” His gaze captures me and I freeze, green to blue, his eyes burning into me, pleading with me to say something.
It feels as though my voice gets stuck in my throat as I speak. “It has to do with my parents. Their divorce, it was ugly. It was public.” I screw my eyes shut. “That’s really all I can give you right now, I’m sorry.”
He shifts me so my legs drape sideways over his and holds my face with his big, rough hands. I open my eyes and see his face in front of mine, an inch away from my lips. “Thank you, Sydney. For what it’s worth, I’m happy that you trust me, even if it’s only part of the story.”
Drew tilts his head and slides his mouth over my lips. His scent invades my nostrils and his taste is on my tongue. I open my mouth and let him in. Moving together in a sensual dance that sends a flood of heat to my panties I climb onto his lap and grind against his shorts, running my hands up and down his broad chest. Drew leans away from me and I groan in displeasure, pouting.
“So, what do you want to do on our last day here?”
“I thought I was showing you what I want to do today.” I tip my head back toward his and suck his lower lip into my mouth, nipping it as I writhe against the bulge in his lap. He grunts as I shift back and forth on his lap without shame. I deftly unbutton his shorts and open his zipper; reaching in to grasp his cock firmly.
“Sydney,” he warns, “what are you doing to me?”
And somehow I know he doesn’t mean in just this moment physically, but what are we doing to each other’s minds and souls? He is changing me irrevocably, and is letting me know that he feels the same.
Since I can’t talk about it, about me, I lift myself off his lap and push him down on the lounger, ripping down his shorts to unleash his thick shaft. I want this control-freak to give himself up to me this time.
I kneel down and lean in to taste the salty bead of dew that clings to the end of his impressive length. “Fuck!” he cries and nearly bucks off of the chair when my tongue makes contact. I smile to myself and push him into my mouth as deep as he’ll go, reaching down and gently cupping his balls as I swirl my tongue around his cock. He grabs my hair in his fists and hisses out a barely restrained breath.
I love that I can undo him like this. This big, confident, bossy man becomes mine when I take him this way. I slowly fuck him with my mouth, letting his length hit the back of my throat and then suck hard as I pull back. He’s panting and trying to increase the pace by pressing his hands on my head but I won’t let him. It’s my turn to torture him, and I love it.
He groans in a combination of frustration and pleasure as I take him deep over and over again, at a slow leisurely pace, swirling my tongue over the tip each time I pull back. I look up and see him undone, his head thrown back, eyes rolled up in his head. His beautiful mouth is hanging slack and his breath is fast and uneven. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen in my life.
I speed up and feel his balls tighten, sucking him harder and forcing him against my throat he comes into my mouth, yelling out a random jumble of words, my scalp burning from his tight fists that are tangled in my hair. I savor every drop and sit back next to him on the chair. Trying to catch his breath, he rakes his hand through his hair to push it off of his sweaty brow.
Drew grabs my face and kisses me passionately before lying back again, his chest still heaving. “That was without a doubt, the most intense orgasm of my entire life. You own me, Sydney.”
Right back at you Forrester.
Chapter 18
“Merci, bonne journée. Thank you, have a nice day,” the saleswoman says to me as she hands me my bag.
“You too, thanks so much.” I put my sunglasses on and head back out into the Caribbean sun. I’ve been shopping for several hours, avoiding stores like Hermes and Gucci and instead spending time discovering all of the little boutiques that dot the streets of Gustavia. I found a great pair of woven sling backs, a new dress for myself and a gorgeous handmade black coral bracelet for both my mom and Leah.
Philippe waits for me in a small lot nearby, sitting in the Mini Moke with his feet up on the dash and his eyes closed.
Is he asleep?
Well, I still have to find something for Drew. He declined coming shopping downtown with me, begging off to stay behind and check his email. His phone buzzes a lot. He eventually turned the notifications off, but I know he has tons to do for work.
I smile as I think about this morning’s activities. After the incident on the lounge chair, he scooped me up and made love to me slowly and sweetly in the bedroom, his green eyes staring into mine as we joined together perfectly.
I’m so unfamiliar with feeling this way. All of my thoughts and senses are consumed with Drew, drawn to him in ways I never knew possible. Twenty-four years and I’ve never even had a boyfriend, let alone fallen in love. Is that what this is?
Love?
The ringing of my phone snaps me from my reflecting and I dig through my bag for it. My service has been sketchy at the villa so I’m surprised that it works in town. Sitting at a charming bistro table outside the stores, I look at the screen. It’s Jeff Talley from the Warren Hotel.
Interesting.
“Hello Mr. Talley, how are you?” I chirp into the phone, my good mood evident as I rummage for a pen and pad ready to take notes for my client.
“Sydney! I’m great, just great, call me Jeff!” Wow, he’s happy today.
“That’s wonderful, Jeff. Is everything okay with the remodel? I’ll be there Tuesday to start the install as we discussed and….”
“No, no Sydney, everything’s going great with the club,” he interrupts. “I didn’t call because of a problem.” Jeff chuckles and continues, “I called because I have news to share wi
th you.”
“News for me?” Okaaaaay. “Alright, Jeff, let’s have it. You sound pretty excited.” And he does sound excited. If I could see him I’d bet that he was jumping from one foot to the other, the man seems positively giddy. Strange. I roll my eyes as I imagine the uptight executive in his expensive suits with his perfectly styled gray hair and trim beard dancing with enthusiasm around his office.
“As you know, the Warren Hotel chain has a certain reputation in the industry for catering to young jet-setters. The launch of Verve is going to set the tone for our nightclub redesigns worldwide. There’s been quite a lot of buzz over the opening of Verve, and due to extraordinary interest, we’ve scheduled our opening night party already.”
My heart jumps into my throat. How can he schedule the party when I haven’t even laid eyes on the pieces to be sure everything is correct? Mistakes can happen, furniture might not fit to spec, glassware can ship late…the possibilities are endless.
“But… I haven’t even been on site yet to see that everything will go as planned,” I croak, my mouth suddenly filled with sawdust. “I appreciate the confidence in me and my firm, but things can happen…”
He cuts me off again, too excited to let me finish. “I have every faith in you Sydney. In fact, it’s because of you that Verve has attracted so much fascination.” What the hell is he talking about?
“I’m not sure I understand…”
“No worries, Sydney. I just called to give you the date of the opening. It’s March 8th. I have a meeting to rush off to; we can talk more when I see you on Tuesday. Bye Sydney.”
My phone goes dead and I stare at it in my hand. That was bizarre. No one schedules a huge opening night bash until the designer has a chance to inventory the pieces and at the very least, lay eyes on how the space is coming out. And March 8th is less than six weeks away.
Great, well, my vacation lasts until tomorrow morning, so I refuse to let this consume my last day here. I press my lips together and toss my phone back into my bag. I still have to find something for Drew, so I force smile on my face and head for another shop.
Relatively Famous Page 12
