by Ann Lister
“You're not even forty yet! You've got a long way to go before you need diapers.”
Ben tipped his head, pleased to see a smile back on her face.
“One could hope,” he said. He lifted her hand and kissed the finger tips. “How about I make you breakfast?”
“Can I shower first?” she asked.
“I suppose so, but I'm only going to get you dirty again.”
Sydney playfully slapped him on the chest. “You're unbelievable.”
He followed her back into his bedroom, his eyes focused on the gentle sway of her bottom when she walked.
“Maybe I should join you in the shower. That way, you can get clean while I get you dirty.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sydney's visit was supposed to be a long weekend. It turned into ten days of absolute perfection. They took dozens of photographs of everything in sight - including each other. Sydney taught Ben all she knew about composition and even threw in a few lessons in dark room technique.
Each day brought new adventures of the surrounding area and new exploration of each other. Ben loved her on every conceivable surface in his house and several more places he found outside. It was like a honeymoon and he simply couldn't get enough of her. It was the first real vacation he had had in years and he had Sydney to thank for all of it.
Three days before they had to return to work, Sydney was cuddling against Ben in a deck lounge chair. She was wearing a black bikini and Ben was reclined in a pair of half-zipped jeans and nothing more.
The tour was ready to resume in a matter of days and business began to creep back into their lives, much like an unwanted house guest. Ben's cell phone was constantly ringing and driving them both to distraction, but there was no avoiding it.
“Our vacation is running out,” she said. Her hand drifted into the front of his open jeans.
Ben tipped her head back and slowly kissed her, then the sound of his cell phone broke his trance.
“I'm about ready to throw this damn thing into the ocean,” he said, and pressed the phone to his ear.
“You've got a phone interview in fifteen minutes with WZLX in Boston,” his manager reminded him for the second time of the day.
“I'm well aware,” Ben said. “I won't miss it.”
“You better not,” Dixon said.
Ben rolled his eyes. “I think I can handle it.”
“Make sure you call the radio station on time.”
“This isn't my first interview.”
“Then handle it,” Dixon said.
Ben hung up his phone and sighed heavily.
“Is everything all right?” Sydney asked.
“That was my manager reminding me - again, about the phone interview I have scheduled in fifteen minutes.”
Sydney retracted her hand from Ben's pants. “I'll leave you alone so you can take care of business,” she said.
She attempted to sit upright, but Ben pulled her back down and pushed her hand into his pants. His smile was wicked.
“You don't have to leave,” he said between kisses.
He called into the Boston radio station on time and waited while they prepared to go on-air with him. Sydney remained beside him, her tongue drifting lower and lower on his stomach, her hand still busy inside his pants. By the time his interview went live over the airwaves, Ben was in her mouth and barely able to manage a complete thought.
“Ben, thank you for joining us today,” the disc jockey said.
“My pleasure,” he said, and smiled at his own joke. He watched Sydney work her magic. Her long hair spilled across his stomach, fluid like ocean waves, with each movement of her head. Her fingernails lightly scratched the side of his ribs.
“You've been in the business over fifteen years now. How do you attribute your success and ability to stay relevant in today's fickle music market?”
“Hmmm…that's a good question,” he exhaled, closing his eyes. “Damn! That's good.”
A long pause filled the phone.
“Ben?”
“Ahhh. Yes. I'm here. I was contemplating my answer. I think we stay relevant because we keep our music simple.”
“You have two shows in Boston next week and both shows are sold-out. How does it make you feel to still be selling out shows after fifteen years in the business?”
“Wow! That is so good…to hear,” Ben said, and cleared his throat. His voice was beginning to strain from Sydney's efforts. “I hadn't heard both shows were sold-out.”
“Will you be trying out any new material on your Boston audiences?”
Another pause; the duration lasting longer than the first.
“Hey, Ben? Are you still with us?”
“Hmmm…you are unbelievable. Damn…I'm sorry, what was the question?” Ben asked. A low chuckle rattled from him.
“You sound distracted, Ben,” the disc jockey said with a knowing laugh.
“I'm good…really good.”
The DJ snickered again. “Well, I'll let you finish what you're doing, Ben and we'll look forward to seeing you and the rest of the band here next week.”
“Yes. Thank you,” Ben said, and dropped his phone onto the deck. His hands went to Sydney's head and entwined his fingers in the hair. The sensual caress of her tongue was more than he could take.
“You feel so good, baby,” he sighed, then he closed his eyes and released into her mouth.
Less than a minute later, his cell phone was ringing again.
“Damn it!” Ben grumbled, and reached for his phone.
Sydney moved off the lounge chair and stood by the railing watching Ben talk.
“What the hell was that?” Dixon asked. “Do you think you're funny?”
“I'm not following. I called the station on time and I did the stupid interview. All is right with the world.”
“And, you're an idiot if you don't think everyone knew what you were doing, Ben.”
“So what! I'm on vacation. I think I'm allowed to enjoy myself.”
“Not during a fucking interview! You've got another interview with WBCN in an hour. See if you can keep your girlfriend off of you long enough to do that one sanely. Think you can handle that?”
“I'll see what I can do,” Ben said, and ended the call.
Before he could toss the phone to the deck it rang again in his hand.
“I can't believe this,” he said.
This time it was Simon, breathing heavily into the phone using a fake high-pitched tone, simulating an orgasm.
“Let it go, Simon.”
“I'm up here in Boston doing some promotional work for our shows next week and what do I hear on the radio? My brother getting his dick sucked on-air!”
“Fuck off.”
Simon roared with laughter. “It was like the old times, bro. You haven't done anything that crazy in years. I wouldn't have guessed Syd had a wild side to her.”
“Don't talk about her,” Ben said, his voice deepening.
“Oh, and I suppose you're gonna tell me she wasn't the one working on you?”
“I'm done talking, Simon. Have a nice day.”
Ben slid his phone into his pant pocket and approached Sydney at the railing.
“What's going on?” she asked.
“Well, let's see. My manager is pissed at me and Simon can't stop laughing.”
Sydney's eyes met Ben's. “Because of what I was doing?”
Ben grinned. “Apparently, I made it a little too…obvious.”
Sydney turned toward the ocean. “That was your idea,” she said.
Ben slid his arms around her waist. “I'm not complaining, baby. I loved it, and I don't really give a shit what anyone else has to say. I'm on vacation with a woman that positively brings me to my knees in every sense imaginable. It doesn't get any better than that.”
“Does Simon know I'm here with you?”
“He has his suspicions, but I didn't admit to anything.”
She dropped her head and sighed loudly.
“Syd, I really don't understand what the big fucking deal is. We're not doing anything illegal - well, some of it might be considered illegal in certain states,” he laughed.
Sydney pushed him away and stepped toward the stairs. “This isn't funny, Ben.”
He started to follow her, but his phone began to ring again. He joined her on the beach about an hour later after finishing the second interview.
“It's going to be different when we go back to work, isn't it?” Ben asked. He sat down in the sand beside her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We'll be back to sneaking around and pretending we're not together.”
“We'll be working, Ben.”
“That shouldn't mean we have to act differently than we have been this week.”
“This week was a vacation. When we get to Boston, that will be work. There is a huge difference between the two.”
Ben pressed his shoulder against hers. “When the tour resumes, I'd like you to share my room with me.”
“That can't happen.”
“Why not?”
Sydney shook her head. “Because I need my own space when I'm working.”
“Is that the only reason you won't share my room or are you more concerned with people knowing we're sleeping together?”
Sydney looked at him but didn't respond. His gaze drifted to the water.
“Are you embarrassed to have your name linked with mine?” he asked.
“Don't be crazy.”
“Then, what is it, Sydney? Explain it to me because I don't understand. No one gives a shit who I share my bed with anymore than they care who shares yours. So, what the hell are you afraid of?”
Sydney closed her eyes. Emotion began to bite at her lids. “I'm not any good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Relationships. I've never really had one, at least one that felt like this. It's all new to me - even some of the sex,” she smiled. “I don't know what any of this means. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to act and I don't want to ruin it.”
Ben slid his arm around the back of her shoulders. “Relax,” he whispered against her ear. “You're over-thinking it.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said.
“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about screwing this up, but at least I'm willing to give it a shot.” He turned her face toward him and kissed her deeply. “We've got two days left here, Syd. I say we make the most of them. We can sort through the rest of the bullshit when we get to Boston. How's that sound?” he asked, and pulled her down into the sand beside him.
For appearances, Sydney flew back to New York City and spent the night at her apartment before flying to Boston the following day. Ben took a plane directly into Boston, arriving with barely enough time to run through a sound-check at the TD Banknorth Garden arena. Even still, he wanted to make time to see Sydney. It had only been twenty-four hours, but he missed her terribly.
He was walking down the hallway at the arena looking for Sydney, when Simon came up beside him.
“Nice tan,” Simon said. “And I'm willing to bet, Syd has one that matches.”
“I wouldn't know. I haven't seen her since Vegas,” Ben said, doing his best to hide his smile.
“Right. Vegas.”
Both brothers passed by a small press room and froze. Sydney was on her hands and knees, stretching over one camera bag and reaching into another. The shirt she was wearing had slipped up her backside, exposing a lot of skin and her jeans more than accentuated the roundness of her perfect bottom.
“Whoa!” Ben said.
“Damn! Is that Syd?” Simon asked.
“Looks like it is,” Ben said. “I'd recognize that…tattoo anywhere.”
“Are you sure you're not screwing her?” Simon asked.
“No such luck.”
“Then, you won't mind if I throw her a shot.”
Ben grabbed Simon by the throat and slammed him up against the cement wall. “You stay the fuck away from her or, I swear to God, I'll snap your neck.”
“Why don't you try and be a little less obvious!” Simon laughed.
Ben let go of his brother and proceeded down the hallway, raising his middle finger as he walked.
Simon waited until Ben turned the corner in the hall then disappeared into the press room to see Sydney.
She heard the footsteps behind her and quickly stood. Her heart sank when she realized it was Simon.
“What a coincidence, Syd. You have a tan identical to Ben's. You both must have been on the same beach last week.”
“I wouldn't know where Ben got his tan. I got mine in the Bahamas,” she said.
“Sure you did,” Simon said.
“What do you want, Simon?” Sydney asked, already bored with their conversation.
“Did you enjoy Ben's radio interview with WZLX last week?”
“I just told you, I was in the Bahamas. I don't know anything about Ben's interview.”
Simon sat on the edge of an empty table and smiled. “It was funny as hell,” he said. “My brother was doing an on-air interview while someone was doing him.”
“How nice for Ben, but that has nothing to do with me.”
“I think it does. In fact, I think you were the one working on him.”
Sydney dropped her gaze to the floor, anger tensing every muscle in her body. “You know what, Simon? I'm comfortable with the fact you don't like me - it makes it easier for me to hate you. But, if you ever disrespect me again by talking trash in front of me, I will show you a new kind of pain.”
Simon stood up from the table and stepped toward Sydney.
“You don't scare me, Syd, and I'm tired of you walking around acting like a frigid nun. Who the hell do you think you are? You work for me. Remember that.”
“I don't work for you, Simon. I work for your management,” Sydney said.
Simon took two steps closer and stood directly in front of Sydney, his chest almost touching hers. “Fuck yo…,” he started to say, but before he finished the second word, Sydney thrust her knee into Simon's groin. He quickly fell to the floor like a rag doll, clutching his crotch in agony.
“No - fuck you, Simon,” Sydney said, zipping her camera bags and heading toward the door.
“You fucking bitch! I'll be so glad when this tour is over and Ben and I can go back to our old life. It will be nothing but strip joints and fucking a different girl every night.”
“You're pathetic,” Sydney said, and stepped into the hallway.
She moved toward the stage area and found another press room and began to set-up her camera equipment. A few minutes later, Ben drifted into the room.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his arms sliding around her waist. “I missed you.”
Sydney pushed his arms away.
“Stop it, Ben. Not here.”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw four roadies setting up tables for a meet ‘n’ greet. Their attention less on the tables and more on the interaction playing out between him and Sydney.
“Do you have any idea why my brother is flopping around on the floor back there, looking like a fish about to die?”
“He had it coming,” Sydney said without looking at him.
“I'm sure, but what did he do?”
She stopped what she was doing and faced him. “He said one too many disrespectful things and I lost it.”
“Like what?”
“I don't want to talk about it here,” Sydney said in a hushed tone.
Ben grabbed her by the hand and tugged her into the hallway, then found another private room and locked the door behind them.
“Start talking,” he said. He pulled her against his chest. His hands rested on her butt.
Sydney's hands slid around Ben's waist, as her face fell to the warm spot at the base of his throat. She inhaled his scent deeply and closed her eyes and, for a brief moment, she felt safe.
“What did Simon say to you?” Ben asked again.<
br />
She tipped her head back to see his face. “He gave me his theory about me being the one working on you during the radio interview.”
“Working on me?” Ben smiled.
“Those were Simon's words, not mine.”
“I figured as much.”
“Then told me he couldn't wait for the tour to end, so the two of you could resume your old habits of visiting strip joints and screwing a different girl each night.”
Ben stiffened in her arms. “That's his lifestyle, Sydney - not mine.”
Sydney stepped away and broke his embrace. “He gets me so mad! I swear, if he doesn't back-off and leave me alone, I will continue to keep him in pain.”
“You have my permission to kick the shit of Simon anytime you like.”
He reached for her and cupped her face in his hands, then kissed her with passion. “I really missed you last night,” he said. “Do you think I could see you after the show?”
She felt his groin expanding between them and smiled.
“Not tonight, Ben. I know I'll be too tired.”
“Okay, then how about brunch tomorrow morning?” he asked. “I have most of the day free, except for a meeting downtown, but that's not until sometime in the afternoon.”
“I could do brunch,” she said. “As long as it's not too early.”
“Is eleven too early?”
“That sounds perfect,” she said, and moved toward the door.
He blew a kiss and motioned for her to go on without him.
“I'm going to need a minute to let things settle down,” he said.
Sydney rolled her eyes and shut the door.
The concert started on-time and Sydney took her spot at the side of the stage with two cameras hanging around her neck and her hands pressing another to her eye. Three songs into the show, Ben carried a stool to the center edge of the stage and sat down. His guitar technician came out and handed him an acoustic guitar he liked to refer to as ‘Old Faithful’. Ben adjusted the microphone stand in front of his face and began to address the audience.
“How's everyone doing tonight?” he asked, gazing out into the sea of people and smiling when the crowd cheered back at him. He ran his fingers across the strings of the guitar and chuckled. “A few people from my management team feel I need to apologize for my behavior last week during my phone interview with WZLX.”
