“Ryan was right. I look ugly next to him,” Connor jokes.
“You look great, Connor. Look at that smile.”
In the photo, Connor is shirtless and pumped. His romance cover physique is as delicious as always, but this time, instead of having his tattooed arm around the wasp waist of a beautiful faceless woman, it’s thrown over Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan wears a T-shirt and jeans but nothing covering his face. His burn scars are impossible to miss. They were not touched up in Photoshop in any way. He insisted on it.
During the photo shoot, the saucy camaraderie between Connor and Ryan quickly took over the room. Those two busted each other’s balls like the lifelong friends that they are. Their energy was contagious. Everyone at the shoot was laughing at their jokes like they were at a comedy club. When Connor and Ryan get on a roll, they’re incredibly funny. Any self-consciousness Ryan may have had walking into the shoot disappeared entirely by the end. And all that relaxed fun energy made it into the photos. The shot Vince Pitts selected for the final image shows Ryan and Connor in the middle of laughter. Despite Ryan’s scars, the first thing you notice about the photo is how much fun he and Connor are having together. The cover couldn’t have come out any better.
“I can’t wait to show this to Rye,” Connor says softly, his voice raspy.
I squeeze his hand. “We can bring it over later.”
I’ve spent a lot of time at the Hansen house in the past two months getting to know the family’s story. In that time, Ryan’s burn scars have become almost completely normal to me. Ryan was right. You eventually get past the shock of seeing it. Connor helped with that. All he sees is his best friend. He truly doesn’t notice Ryan’s scars. You quickly realize there’s an intelligent, funny, charming human being underneath the disfiguring scars, a person with hopes and dreams and feelings like everybody else.
Connor skims his fingers across the magazine cover and smiles at me, his face a mixture of profound emotions. “It’s perfect, Lex. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for Ryan. I’ve never seen him so relaxed around so many strangers. He had a blast that day at the shoot.”
I never would’ve believed that Connor Hughes had a soft spot anywhere under all those hard muscles and sharp-edged tattoos and his smart mouth, but he does. He’s not an asshole. He’s a wonderful man with a huge heart. “Thanks to you,” I smile. “If you hadn’t introduced me to Ryan, all I would’ve had was a shallow exposé about a muscled manwhore.”
He chuckles. “How is that bad? You know women can never get enough of that shit.” He winks at me and swallows a big gulp of his iced coffee. “You especially.”
I smirk. “Me? You know I hate manwhores.” I elbow him in the bulging bicep.
“Uh huh. That’s why you spend so much time with me.”
He’s right. Connor and I have spent plenty of time together since our unexpected reunion at Rom Com Con. “Off the subject, but you know what I found out?”
“That you can’t stop thinking about me for more than half a second?”
“You wish,” I giggle. “But, no. Remember that guy Romeo Fabiano? The one helping us out at the convention?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“I looked him up on Facebook and found out he went to North Valley too.”
“No shit?”
“Yep. He started in 2009, a year after we graduated.”
“Small world, huh?”
“Soooo THIS is the little bitch,” a strange voice chortles with dripping judgement.
I look up into the eyes of an attractive woman in a tight tailored navy business suit. Her straight ink black hair cascades over fine features, full lips, and tan skin. She holds a paper to-go cup in one hand and her iPhone in the other. Her nails are an expensive French manicure with a classy hint of glitter. I have no idea who she is. But she’s smirking at me like she knows me.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t…”
Connor grunts. “Gloria.”
I mutter to him, “Who is she?”
Gloria cuts in, “I’m his agent. And his girlfriend. Is he fucking you too, sweetie?”
Girlfriend? I glare at Connor, instantly furious. I should’ve known. I shake my head, stunned. I really should’ve known! Just because Connor is friends with Ryan doesn’t change the fact he screws lots of women. People don’t change. I am an idiot. And I have no one to blame but myself.
Gloria smiles victoriously. “He didn’t tell you about me, did he? Oh, thaaat’s right. He and I have a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. I suppose that applies to you too. Did he not tell you that?”
I shift my seat away from Connor so we’re no longer hip to hip. “What’s going on, Connor?”
Connor’s face is a dark mess. He stares at Gloria with rancid hatred.
“Well?” I press.
“She’s my agent. And…”
I wince, waiting for the knockout blow that will put me on the canvas.
Connor shifts forward, leaning his arms on the table again. “She’s not my girlfriend. She was never my girlfriend.”
“Oh, really?” she scoffs. “Who found you that apartment of yours? Who bought your dining room set? Who picked out your curtains?”
Connor smirks, “I let you do that shit because you’re a bossy bitch.”
“Damn right I am,” she chuckles. “And I’m also the bossy bitch who is FUCKING—” she jabs her finger at him “—YOU.” She jabs again.
Connor shakes his head, disgusted. “Not so loud, Gloria. One of your other boyfriends might hear you.”
I stand up, irritated with both of them. “I think the two of you need to have a talk. Without me.” I pull out my chair for Gloria. “Here. Be my guest.” I turn to walk away.
“Wow, Connor,” she smiles at him and chuckles as she slips into my chair. “This one is a pushover. I thought you liked your sluts on the side with a little more attitude.”
I spin around and—CRACK!!—slap her across the jaw.
She tumbles out of the chair.
“I’m nobody’s slut,” I growl.
“Oh shit!” Connor gasps. “That happened!”
That also felt really good.
“Help me up, Connor!” Gloria barks, her ass on the sidewalk cement and both red-soled Louboutins flailing above the seat of the chair like a helpless turtle. She grabs the chair back with one hand and waves at him with the other, completely unable to stand on her own.
I notice her nude shoes have stiletto heels that are wavy and actually quite cute. They’ve been all the rage in L.A. this summer. They also cost $1,000 and I could never afford them. “Love the shoes,” I smirk sarcastically.
“Connor!’ she growls.
Connor stands up, grabbing the magazine off the table. He smiles at me, “You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for five years. But I would never hit a woman. Doesn’t mean you can’t.” He winks at me.
I laugh.
Gloria screams. “I’m going to sue your ass off, you little bitch!”
I shrug. “Sue away. I don’t have any money anyway.”
Gloria screeches. “Don’t worry, you little slut. My lawyer—”
Connor cuts in, “Are you sure you want to call her a slut again? After she dropped you like that?”
Gloria growls at him and tries to stand up. But she can’t because her tailored skirt is so tight and her back is right up against the brick wall of the cafe. The woman sitting beside her stares down like Gloria is a rabid wolverine. Realizing no one is going to help her, Gloria kicks at the metal chair and it rattles loudly against the metal table. The other customers all stare, as do the expensively dressed shoppers walking by. “You bitch! The second I call my lawyer, he’ll—”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t even know my name. Let’s go, Connor.” I’m surprised I say it, but after slapping Gloria and her bitchy tirade that followed, I at least want to hear him out before jumping to conclusions. And yes, I’m gloating. There’s a certain satisfaction to walk
ing away with Connor by my side when Gloria so obviously wants him.
“Don’t worry!” Gloria hollers as we walk down the wide sidewalk, “I know where to find you. Electra Warmoth.”
I almost stop.
“Ignore her,” Connor mutters, moving me along by the elbow. “She’s all talk.”
“It was nice knowing you, Connor!” she shouts. “Good luck finding another agent willing to put up with your bullshit!”
“Maybe you should talk to her?” I suggest, concerned. I don’t want to cause career trouble for Connor. In this town, a good agent can mean the difference between starving and thriving.
“Fuck her,” he grunts.
“You already did,” I quip sourly.
“Don’t remind me. I was a stupid confused kid when she found me. I’ve grown a lot since then. Let’s go. I don’t need Gloria fuckin Powers in my life anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He gives me a cocky grin. “I don’t need her.”
I search his eyes. Was he just implying he doesn’t need her but he needs me? I don’t know. I’m probably reading too much into it. Who am I kidding? I don’t really want Connor anyway.
Do I?
Chapter 17
ELECTRA
“You totally fuckin want me,” Connor mutters, nuzzling against me in the candlelit booth at ReaXion two weeks later.
“So did Gloria,” I grumble.
“So does every other woman in this restaurant.”
He’s right. Ever since we walked into the trendy restaurant on Melrose to get dinner, the women here have all been checking him out. In fact, before we walked in, they were checking him out too. There are lots of cute young things on Melrose shopping and bar hopping this time of night, and they couldn’t keep their eyes off Connor. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. I glare at him, “Have I ever told you how cocky you are?”
“Once or twice,” he grins.
If his masculine scent wasn’t so intoxicating, and if his rugged beauty wasn’t so irresistible, I would have walked away from whatever this thing is we have going weeks ago. But I can’t resist him.
He leans in and breathes in my ear, “Do you have any idea how cocky I am right now?” He grabs my hand and places it on his crotch beneath the table.
He’s cocky all right. I can feel him straining against his jeans.
“Does your hard on ever go away?” I titter.
“Not when you’re around, Lex…”
I never get tired of him calling me that. It’s something that helps me distance myself from thousands of painful high school memories involving Connor. I do my best never to think about those dreary years when we’re together.
Are we dating? Not officially. We’re having a lot of sex. Ever since my article hit the stands, we have no real reason to see each other. Any pretext that I need to interview him further or clarify some little detail or get his approval on something or other is gone. But he keeps calling me, I keep taking his calls, and we keep sleeping together. Correction, having sex and him going home afterward. What happened to me being the one who walked out first? I guess since I was the one who established that precedent our first night together in his room at the Beverly Hills Resort, I can hardly blame him. One of these days we might actually discuss our official relationship status. For now, I don’t want to think about it because his hand has worked its way under the hem of my slinky red sundress.
He mutters in my ear. “Are you ever not hot and wet when I’m around?”
I part my thighs and slouch slightly, giving him better access. “I blame you for that,” I giggle. “You’ve turned me into a sex vampire.”
“Fuck, woman. I can’t find any panties.” His fingers tease me.
I smirk smugly at him. “Again, your faullllllt…” I moan when I feel his fingers sliding up and down my wet cleft. I admit it. Connor sparked my sex binge. I’m making up for years of dry spell. If things don’t last, does it really matter? I deserve at least another seven hundred orgasms before I go back into sex retirement to focus on my career. “Connor…” I moan.
Our perky waitress suddenly interrupts. “Would you two like any dessert?”
Good thing this place has tablecloths. Otherwise she’d see my wide open thighs, my red sundress hiked up to my hips, and Connor’s fingers invading my nakedness.
While working some kind of hand magic on my clit, Connor smirks at her, “Do you have any of those cream filled cannolis? I think she wants one. A really big one…”
If I wasn’t on the verge of coming, I might say something snappy to Connor followed by an apology to our waitress for his rudeness. But I can barely keep my eyes open as waves of pleasure radiate out from my sweet center.
“I’m sorry,” Perky smiles, “We don’t.” She looks me right in the eyes, ignoring Connor. “But we do have a super delicious strawberry whipped cream cake. The strawberries are fresh and that has whipped cream. How does that sound?” She’s staring straight at me, waiting for an honest answer.
I can’t answer her because anything I say will come out in a moan. Maybe she’ll think I’m high or drunk. It’s a plausible explanation here on Melrose.
She’s waiting.
Connor is stroking my pussy.
Stroke stroke stroke.
I have to say something. But the only thing that comes out of my mouth as I sink further into the cushioned booth is, “Aaaahhhh…” What did you expect I would say? That I wanted extra whipped cream? The kind that comes in a can so you can shoot it down your throat? I repress another moan. I’m going to lose it right in front of her. I don’t care if she does watch me come. It won’t make any difference to me because my eyes are now nearly clamped shut, blocking out everything except what Connor’s fingers are doing. Oh, gawd. The sensation of him sliding inside me nearly sends me over the edge.
Perky blinks several times, her hands folded politely together in front of her, waiting.
I feel bad for her she has to endure this. Me on the other hand? I feel wonderful.
Connor says, “I think we could use a minute. Or do you need longer?” He looks at me pointedly.
Stroke stroke stroke.
“I…” Can’t speak.
“It’s a hard decision, I know,” he jokes.
Stroke stroke stroke.
I’m about to tell him to fuck off, but I really just want to tell him to fuck me. For Perky’s sake, I don’t say anything. Instead I squeeze Connor’s jeans-sheathed hardness, which has been in my hand this whole time.
“Yeah,” Connor grunts. “Give us a minute.”
Perky giggles nervously. “I’ll leave the dessert menu with you. Take your time.” She sets the menu on the table like she’s afraid she’ll catch something if she get’s too close before hurrying off.
Are people watching us? I don’t care. But I am aware of the sounds of conversation and clinking silverware all around us.
Like I said, I really don’t care.
I unbuckle Connor’s belt with one hand. It’s awkward, and he has to help, but we get it done. He shifts so I can unbutton his fly and zip it down. His cock nearly jumps out. If he wasn’t slouching in the booth like I am, his big hard dick would be poking above the table cloth like a purple periscope.
Again, I don’t care.
Because the thrill sizzling between my legs has made me come dumb.
I start to stroke Connor’s cock, keeping it against his hard abs. He lifts the hem of his shirt and drapes it over my hand so it’s sort of covering things.
He snickers, “We’re totally gonna get thrown out for this. Our waitress is probably telling her manager right now.”
“I don’t care,” I moan, swirling my thumb around the tip of his cock, skimming across a drop of pre-cum that I use to slicken him.
“Me neither.” He drops his head against the booth cushions and hisses, “Fuck, Lex. Like that.”
My cheek squishes against his muscled shoulder. I’m half tempted to go down
on him. But I peer through a slit in my eyelid and I’m very aware of the dozens of people who would definitely notice. “This is so wrong,” I whisper. But it feels so right. So does his cock in my hand. I pump the shaft and work the head as best I can with one hand. It’s hard to concentrate because of what he’s doing with his hand.
“You’re starting to come, I can feel it.”
This is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done.
The waitress is going to be back any second. She’s going to ask if we’ve decided on a dessert, and I’m going to look her in the eye as I come. Because Connor isn’t giving me any other choice. Thankfully, because that would just be weird, I start to come right now.
“Oh, Connor,” I mutter. I forget all about his cock as I come on his hand. I don’t even know if I’m still holding him because all I can think about is the hard orgasm hammering through me.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
That’s when I realize he’s coming too, shooting hot cum up under his shirt. I cup my fingers around the head of his cock, wanting to catch it. It’s hot and sticky in my hand. His cock throbs and pulses with each spurt as he squirms in his seat.
I really hope nobody notices us now.
The white noise of everyone in the restaurant becomes piercingly loud as I come down from my orgasm.
Nobody is staring at us. I don’t see Perky anywhere, which is good, because I have a handful of hot cum.
Breathless, my eyes still fluttering half closed, I say, “I guess she was wrong about those cream filled cannolis.”
Connor represses a snorting laugh and leans his head against mine. “What am I gonna do with you, Warmoth?”
I can think of a thousand things…
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
CONNOR
“I can’t believe you smeared my load all over my abs,” I laugh as we stumble out of ReaXion and onto Melrose, which is packed with people on a warm summer night like this.
“Me neither,” Lex giggles, holding onto my elbow, both of us fuck drunk from coming together. “But I couldn’t think where else to put it.”
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