A/N: This chapter is rated M. You have been warned.
Unfortunately, Skylar's visit is short-lived, as he has to be on a plane the next day to head back to Los Angeles. They wake in the morning with her draped across his body and they're both exhausted, having spent most of the previous night making up for lost time. She gives him a long, lingering kiss at the door of her hotel room, tearing up slightly as she bids him farewell.
"Don't cry, love," he tells her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, "We'll see each other again in a few weeks."
They return back to their hectic schedules, and even though it was Anna who was the emotional one at his departure, it's Skylar who finds himself aching for her. He thought his visit would help him miss her just a little bit less for the last month of her filming, but the image of her in that black lingerie, sprawled out on the bed waiting for him has kept him up many lonely and frustrating nights since he last saw her.
If nothing else, Skylar's visit has only made Anna love him more. She tackles the next week of filming with renewed fervor, having let go of her anxiety and putting more faith in their relationship. The distance between them is difficult, but she figures they probably talk more and have become much closer than most couples because of all the phone conversations they've shared. She's feeling pretty good one night when her cell phone rings.
"Hey you," she answers, seeing that it's Skylar.
"Hey," he replies, his tone a little flat.
"What's going on?" she asks, "You sound a little down."
"I'm just really missing you," he explains, "And I'm still at work. It's been a long day. John has been making everyone laugh during takes all day, and we're not finished. They're working on a scene that I'm not in right now so I thought I'd give you a call to keep myself awake."
"I miss you too," she replies. "Only a few more weeks to go."
"Thank god," he sighs into the phone, "I don't think I'll survive much longer."
"Me neither," she laughs.
"No seriously," he states, "All I do is replay our last night together over and over again in my mind. And then I'm all turned on, and frustrated, and alone, and wanting you so much it hurts. Why do you have to be so damn sexy?"
"I keep thinking about that night too," she says, "And don't blame me, you're the one that picked out that lingerie."
"Yes," his voice drops an octave, "And I'm a genius for it. A genius who enjoys torturing himself, apparently."
"I'll be sure to wear it on my way home," she says, her voice low and sultry.
"You're killing me here," he replies, groaning.
"Sorry, baby," she replies, "I want you too, you know."
"You do?" he asks.
"All. The. Time," she answers.
"Anna," he warns, "I'm still at work here. And it would be inappropriate for me to leave this room now thanks to you."
She laughs, "Sorry," she says, feigning innocence. "You want me to talk about something less sexy?"
"Please," he groans again, and she launches into a discussion about world hunger.
"Not working," he grits out. She starts talking about his relatives then, and that relaxes him finally. "You are an evil, evil woman," he tells her, but his tone is teasing.
"Hey!" she exclaims, "You're not the only one who's hard-up right now!"
She hears a clunking sound as he drops the phone, and she's laughing when he picks it up again. "Oh, you'll pay for this," he says, "When you least expect it."
"Looking forward to it," she replies, before hanging up with him.
Over the remainder of their month apart, the teasing continues. He leaves her detailed voicemails describing what he would be doing to her if they were together. She texts him a photo of her in the lingerie with a caption that reads: If anyone besides you sees this, I'll kill you.
And he replies, "It's already my cell phone background."
She calls him and continues to tease him while he's at work, and he sends her a photo of him dressed in a suit and tie minus a shirt that has her practically drooling.
He's at work the day he knows she's flying home, and he can barely concentrate on anything. He's so anxious to see her. She arrives at the house and carefully changes into a new set of lingerie and perches on the sofa, waiting for him to get home. When she hears his key in the lock, she crosses her legs and leans forward, giving him a full view of her cleavage. His bag hits the floor with a resounding thud as soon as he lays eyes on her.
"Anna," he breathes as she stands and he crosses the room in seconds, kissing her with such force it nearly knocks her off her feet. She's practically tearing at his clothes in her haste to remove them, and she quickly takes off his shirt and pants, leaving him only in his boxers. His lips are hot on her skin as he kisses his way down her jaw and neck, and buries his face between her breasts while lowering her on the sofa. She wraps her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his backside and trying to anchor him to her. Her back arches off the sofa as his lips trail kisses along her stomach on the edge of her panties, and she opens her eyes to fist her hands in his hair. Just then, she sees a flash of light.
"Sky," she says, and he stops his ministrations to look up at her, "Let's move this upstairs."
She keeps her legs wrapped around him as he picks her up and carries her up the steps, their lips moving in synchronization as he lowers her to the bed. He unclasps her bra with one hand, letting it fall to the floor before placing her on the bed. He steps out of his boxers and deftly removes her panties before climbing on top of her. He pauses just to gaze upon her, admiring her beauty as he lovingly strokes the side of her face with his palm.
"I love you, Anna," he whispers reverently before returning his mouth to hers. They make love frantically, their month of pent up tension and teasing taking its toll on their resolve. It is only a matter of minutes before she's panting his name, desperate for release. And later, they take their time relearning each other's bodies, paying attention to every sigh, every gasp, and every breath the other takes. They whisper words of love and adoration before falling asleep, sated and content to finally be in each other's arms again.
The next morning they wake insanely early to the sound of cell phones, home phones, as every piece of technology in the house seems to come to life.
"What the hell?" Anna grumbles, picking up her phone from the bedside table just as Skylar reaches for his. It's her agent.
"Anna?" her agent sounds frantic.
"There better be a good reason for you calling me this early," Anna yawns.
"Oh, there is. A photo of you and Skylar is going viral. I don't know who took it or when, but it's all over the internet. We're going to need to do some damage control. I'm sending you the photo now."
Anna's phone buzzes with an incoming text, and she looks down to see the picture her agent sent. To her absolute horror, it's a photo of her and Skylar from last night in the living room, clearly showing them in their underwear on the couch with her writhing underneath him. Then she receives another photo of him carrying her upstairs, her legs wrapped around him. Thankfully, they are both partially clothed and you can't really see anything. Anna starts to hyperventilate.
Skylar must be receiving a similar call from his agent, because he's started pacing around the room, shooting her desperate glances. "I'm going to need to call you back," they both say to their agents, before hanging up and looking at each other.
"The curtains must've been open," Anna groans, covering her face with her hands. "I swore I saw a flash last night."
"Who would have taken this?" he asks, exasperated, "Someone had to have come right up to the window to get this clear of a shot. That's trespassing, Anna."
"I know, I know," she stands, pacing the length of the room along with him. "Well, it's out there now, so we will just have to wait for it to blow over. It's not like it's scandalous or anything. We're engaged and we live together."
"Yeah," he agrees, "Plus, we look hot."
She laughs, shaking her head at him as she studies the pictures again. "You're right, we kind of do."
"Damn straight," he winks at her. They sit down together to see where the picture has appeared online already. Their agents are right, it does seem to be everywhere, but thankfully the caption reads something like "Hollywood's Hottest Couple" or "Pitch Perfectly in Love". It definitely could have been worse.
"Good thing we have a second story bedroom," Anna comments.
"Good thing they didn't have a video camera," Skylar adds, "Although the footage might get me through some lonely months without you."
She smacks him playfully in the arm before dialing her agent back. They talk and decide not to make any statements about the photo considering it seems to have been received positively by the public.
"Maybe we should put up a fence," Skylar suggests later that day.
"Around the front yard?" she asks. "I think we should just be more careful about fully closing the curtains in the future."
"Yeah, but I don't like the idea of a stranger coming up to the house like that and invading our privacy. It's bad enough that our privacy is invaded everywhere else, but this is our home, the one place we can feel safe," he replies.
And sure enough, because of the photo the paparazzi are camped outside of their house for the next week. Anna and Skylar keep the curtains and blinds tightly closed, and have to deal with reporters swarming their cars whenever they try to leave. They file several complaints with the police department, who occasionally patrolled and told the small gathering crowd to leave.
Anna begins opening the living room curtains again during the day to let in some light, and they start to feel a little more relaxed as each day passes. One night they are sitting on the sofa, her curled into his side, watching a movie when he catches sight of something outside from the corner of his eye. He stands abruptly and walks over the window, peering out into the darkness.
"What is it?" Anna asks, moving to stand beside him.
"I thought I saw something, or someone, watching us," he says, drawing the curtains closed tightly. They snuggle back on the couch again, but he's feeling edgy and restless.
"It's ok," she soothes, "The curtains are closed and the doors are all locked. We're safe."
She starts tracing patterns with her fingers on his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles through his thin t-shirt. He sighs contentedly at her touch.
"I just want to live the kind of life where I can make love to you whenever I want, and wherever I want," he whispers huskily as she fists her hands in his shirt, pulling his lips to hers. The movie is quickly forgotten as the kiss grows in intensity.
"You do have that life," she moans into his ear as he picks her up, heading in the direction of the stairs when she breathes into his ear, "Kitchen."
He laughs, kissing her soundly once more as he carries her into the kitchen, placing her on the table. "I love you Anna Kendrick," he tells her as she leans backwards, the cool surface of the table making her gasp as he hovers over her.
And they make love right there on the kitchen table, their anxiety over being watched only fueling their passion for each other. She's sprawled out on the table, trying to catch her breath as he collapses next to her, the table creaking under their combined weight.
"That was…" she says, breathing hard.
"Amazing. Epic. Hot," he finishes for her, standing and pulling her up next to him. He throws on his boxers and hands her his shirt when again he thinks he sees something outside. He quickly moves to the back door, where they have sheers up covering the window. He catches a flash of something blonde and quickly unlocks the door and flings it open.
Anna walks over to him and he says over his shoulder, "Get behind me, I don't know who is out there."
Anna stays in the house as he flicks on the backyard lights and steps outside, looking all around the yard. And there, crouching in the bushes is Camp.
"What the fuck Camp!" he exclaims, pulling her out of the shrubs and into full view of Anna. "I could have you arrested for this!"
Camp is red in the face, looking extremely embarrassed as she stands there, not looking at either of them.
"You better have a good explanation for why you're trespassing in our yard in the middle of the night!" Anna demands.
"Was it you who took that other photo?" Skylar shouts at her, and Anna has never seen him this angry before.
"I was trying to get you back for ruining my life!" Camp finally yells. "I was married before I met you. And then this whore came and took you away from me!" She points at Anna.
"Hey! Watch it!" Skylar warns. "I did not ruin your life. You ended your own marriage. You said it was over before I even met you!"
"She is a whore! Every time I see you it's like watching a porno. It's like nonstop with you two!" Camp declares.
"Every time?" Anna is seething, "So how often would you say you're on our property, looking through our windows?"
"I have two words for you," Skylar says to Camp, "Restraining order. I don't ever want to see you again. Don't come near either one of us, or I'll have you arrested. I'm giving you one minute to get off this property or I'm calling the police now."
Camp runs off into the darkness, and Anna turns to Skylar. "Holy shit," she says.
"Yeah," he replies. "Who knew my ex would turn into such a psycho."
"You just drive women crazy," she teases him, as he pulls her into a hug. "It was kind of you, not calling the cops. It would have been all over the news."
But as it turns out, it is all over the news the next morning. Apparently a remaining paparazzi captured an image of Camp peering into their windows that night, and it was all over the news and the internet. The captions read things like "Anna Camp stalks ex-boyfriend" and "The Real Anna Camp or Sarah Newlin?"
"Looks like she ruined her own career and life simultaneously," Skylar points out as they shake their heads at the headlines in disbelief.
Maybe a restraining order won't be necessary after all.