Chasing Stars (21 page)

Days roll into weeks, which then turn into months becoming chilly as autumn raises its cold hand in salutation. I pretty much spend all my free time at Will’s place. We occupy ourselves listening to music, watching movies, eating takeout, and even venturing out for some sightseeing. I have been on morning shows, conveniently located in Manhattan, granting interviews to promote the upcoming release of
Once upon a Dawn
, my prior movie. Even Stefan, tired of being alone in his hotel room, comes to hang out with us. We keep the Sunday routine, when we watch the sunrise, attend morning service, and then eat and spend the afternoon with Will’s family. Will turns out to be a great rehearsal partner. Especially the kissing scenes, which he’s got down to a tee.

With my gaze on Will, I lay on his bed and wonder how the hell we got here. He is painting. I enjoy watching him and the process enthralls me. His serious eyes glance my way from time to time, and he flashes me a shy smile.

I sigh deeply and remember the other night when I woke at two in the morning to find him, achingly handsome, standing next to a canvas. His brooding eyes swiftly moved from my face to the canvas and back.

“What are you doing?” I had sleepily asked.

“Painting the face of a sleeping angel,” he said with such a serious tone, that I could not reply. I observed him for a little while, eventually falling back to a deep sleep. He hasn’t shown me the painting yet. Maybe I don’t look all that great sleeping.

The way it’s going, I might as well pack my bags and move in. I don’t like the thought one bit, I might add. For the life of me, when we are not together, I find myself craving his company. With each passing day, Will steals a piece of my heart. In a way, I invaded his life, and became addicted to all things Will.

Will is romantic and sensitive, he is attentive and selfless, and I severely swoon every time he embraces me. No, it is beyond sexual tension. His eyes, they drink me in, totally absorbing me into his sweetness. When he presses me against his chest, a symphony of sensations awakens inside me. I feel at his mercy, not exactly how I pictured myself in a relationship. Did I just use the word relation-fucking-ship? I did, didn’t I?

I know it will sound weird, but if I am being honest, I relish the sexless time we spend together. Confusing, but true.

Mercifully, we finished filming
Dark Side
. First, I just could not tolerate Jason manhandling me anymore. Side note: Can’t believe I actually had sex with the weirdo when we started filming. Second, because I have got to get away from all things Will. I am dead serious when I say we need to be apart for a while.

I am going to LA for the world premiere of
Once upon a Dawn
. Then, I will go on tour through Europe, Australia, and Japan. I will be away for twenty-one days.

God, who am I kidding? How am I supposed to be away from Will for that long? Maybe he will come with me. No. Definitely not. I am not asking. Not in a million years. We really need to be away from each other for some time.

“Will?” His fingers stop their rhythmic brushing on the canvas.

“Yeah, babe.” His serious eyes glance my way.

“I was wondering if you would like to go on the premiere tour with me.” I ask in a low voice.

Putting the brush down, he strides my way. His eyes are taunting. “Well, well, is someone having separation anxiety?” He sinks on the bed, hovering over me. He cups my face with his stained fingers and kisses my lips.

I take a deep breath, inhaling what has become my favorite smell: the heady male scent of Will mixed with fresh oil paint.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just thought you might enjoy the trip.” I purse my lips.

“Are you pouting?” He gives me his crooked smile.

“Am not!” I frown.

“Are too.” His eyes shift to my mouth, and he nibbles my upper lip.

“Oh, baby, it would be surreal to travel with you. But I can’t.”

“You can’t or won’t?” I search his eyes for an explanation.

“I have to finish the collection. The gallery already sent all the invitations. I still need to complete five of the paintings and promote the event.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.

“How long are you going to be away?” He pushes the strap of my tank top and trails kisses on my shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I lie, letting out a deep sigh.

“I do believe you owe me a tat.” I change the subject.

“Do you want to do it before you leave?”

“Hell yeah, how about we do it now?” I can’t believe I’m really doing a tat. My father despises them. Unconsciously, I have tried to please him all these years.

“Are you sure?” Will frowns.

“Absolutely!” I say.

Will tugs my hand and ushers me to the shop.

“Hi Rick,” I wave my hand.

“Oh, look who is here, the movie star who has our Will smitten.” Rick hugs me. He smells of tobacco and pine. Will strides to the counter and collects a machine.

“I guess it is the other way around.” I glance at Will, who is taciturnly assembling the tattoo gun.

“Do you have a gig?” Rick asks, glancing at his watch. It is almost midnight.

“Yeah, Portia’s” He gleams, the sulky expression dissipating from his face. I wonder if the comment Rick made was the reason for his brief moodiness.

“Cool. Well, I will be on my way. My lady must be waiting.” He kisses my cheek briefly and leaves.

“Where do you want the tat?”

“On the inside of my forearm.”

“That’s good you are done filming then.”

I seat on the same table where I had my temp tat. Will approaches me and I enlace his hips with my legs. “Remember when you first tattooed me?” I say running my fingers through his hair.

“Darling, I don’t think I will ever forget that day. Damn, I wanted to kiss you so badly.”

“I do have a feeling I will enjoy this one better.” I lick his lips.

He places the gun on the counter and his arms snakes around my waist. “Yeah…” He trails kisses along my neck.

He gently pushes me against the table. I tilt my head to have a better view of him.

“Right here?” He asks, running his soft and strong hand along my arm.

“Hmm-hmm.” My entire body quivers under his gentle fingers.

He leans over and his tongue caresses the inside of my forearm setting my skin on flames. Will exudes sensuality. Oh, I am aroused. I guess I am not a big fan of that purity ring after all.

“Your skin is soft and pure; it’s sinful to blemish it.” He says and his breath tickles me.

“Will, if you keep up with this, we won’t be doing a tat.” I say and my voice is so husky.

“I just want you to be sure about it.” He says.

I realize he is stalling. “Why?”

“Niki told me that you were apprehensive about getting a tattoo. I don’t want you to feel pressured into it.” He finally says.

“Oh, Will. Your concern is charming, touching even. But I am one hundred percent sure I want a tat. It was just a stupid reason, a long time ago, that kept me from getting one. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Then it will be my pleasure to be the first one to mark your skin.” He flashes his even teeth in a dazzling smile.

I wonder if he realizes that his mark on me is deeper than skin deep. But I don’t say anything. This
thing
we have going, is too confusing.

Will switches on his iPod, and a soothing sound swirls on the vacant tattoo shop. I watch his face as he wipes my skin and applies the stencil identical to Tarry’s and Nick’s.

“How does it look?” He asks me.

“Perfect.” I gleam.

“Last chance,” He dons a pair of latex gloves.

“Get it over with.”

I close my eyes bracing for the excruciating bite of the needle. I have heard horrendous tales of how painful it is to get a tattoo. My senses are on high alert. I hear the hum of the tattoo gun and feel a sting. It is as if tiny claws are scratching my skin. I open my eyes.

“Is that it?”

“What?” He sweeps the ink on my skin.

“The pain.”

“Hmm, interesting, you have a high threshold of pain. My favorite kind of client.” He says with amusement in his voice.

“Huh, I better be your favorite client, period.” I tease.

“I need to think about that one, baby. I did ink a Playboy model once. If I recall correctly she too had a high tolerance for pain.”

“I beg your pardon? What about that ring of yours, it stands for purity right?”

We continue the sweet bickering, and in a little over an hour, Will announces the end of the tat.

“Oh, I love it.” I admire the intertwined symbols.

“Do you want to send a picture to Tarry and Niki?”

“Yes.” I give him my iPhone, and he snaps a picture. He tapes the tattoo. Perching on the table, I watch him. With fluid movements, he completes the routine cleaning and sterilizing of the instruments.

“All done,” With a playful smile he pecks a kiss on my nose.

“Yep,” I look at his handsome face and a wave of sadness threatens to drown me. In a few days, I won’t have his warmth anymore. I am distraught with the mere thought.

He climbs on the narrow table and presses his strong body against mine. “Well, for the next few days, we will spend saying good-bye.” His hand holds my nape, his lips are over mine, and I dump all my worrisome thoughts as we sink ourselves onto one another.

“If I told you, it would not be a surprise,” I grin.

“Oh, Will, tell me. Where are we going?” Portia pleads and pouts.

“Just wait, baby, we are almost there.”

Without taking my eyes off the road, I lean over and taste her luscious lips. Wow, I wonder if I will ever have my fill of her lips. She is so beautiful.

I inhale. Portia is a puzzle I am trying to figure out. And when I see her face, I just became putty in her hands. Not that anyone can blame me for feeling intimidated by this woman, who millions of people stare at and adore.

This date has gotten under my skin and made me nervous as hell. It is quite a daunting task, planning a date with this gorgeous girl, who has dated so many men. No, I am not comparing myself with any of those douche bags. But, I can feel a bit insecure, can’t I?

I take the New Jersey Turnpike exit, driving toward the Jersey Shore. Glancing at Portia, I see she is deep in thought watching the landscape. I let go of her hand to maneuver the car and pull in Rick’s driveway.

“Where are we?” She scans the surroundings.

“Rick’s beach cottage,” I explain. “He loaned it to us for the night.” I slide out of my seat, and jog around the car to open her door.

My hand rests on the small of her lower back as I steer her toward the cottage. She wears a haltered mini-dress, exposing the curve of her spine. I am horny as hell, and every single muscle in my body tightens at the sight of her exposed skin. She looks at me, and her eyes gleam with anticipation. I put my arm around her waist, drawing her to me. Tomorrow she leaves for her premiere tour, and I cannot help but feel shitty about her departure.

We stroll around the house, to a backyard with an amazing ocean view. The sea tang welcomes us. Her eyes glimmer with delight. She kicks her stilettos to the side. I follow, removing my shoes and enjoying the feel of the sand between my toes.

“Will, this is beautiful!”

With entwined fingers, we follow the path marked by lanterns in the sand that leads to a table set near the water. The sun will set soon, and the horizon clouds are an unusual hue of pink and purple. Candles flicker under the gentle afternoon breeze. The only sound is the waves crashing on the shore and the distant cries of seagulls.

Her fingers tremble as she lightly caresses the white lilacs on the table, her favorite flowers.

“This is perfect, Will.” She flashes an alluring smile.

I enlace her waist and pull her to me. “I am going to miss you, y’know,” I murmur with my lips against hers.

“Me too,” she breathes against my lips, and kisses me so passionately that I need to concentrate, not to throw her on the sand and claim her.

It is getting so damn hard to control myself around Portia. Each day my desire to possess her increases. I want this woman, more than the air I breathe.