We climb in the back seat. I roll up the windows and close the doors. The second I do, the outside world disappears.
We fight and fumble and kiss passionately in the back of the shadowy car, him heavy on top of me, me beneath him on the bench seat, my red sundress already above my waist. I’m still wet from the restaurant. I pull my arms out of my short sleeves and push the thin dress down into a red ribbon around my waist. He peels his shirt off and lays against me, his stomach still sticky with cum. I barely notice.
My cowboy boots are hooked around his ass as I undo his belt and pull him out.
He’s rock hard.
I’m soaking wet.
“Fuck.” He grunts. “I don’t have any condoms. I forgot to put more in my wallet after last night.”
“I’m on the pill,” I gasp, breathless from kissing.
“Since when?”
“Since weeks ago. We’re safe.”
He stops. “Did you start the pill for me, Lex?”
“I guess so. The question is, are you safe?” I wince, afraid I’m ruining this moment for him and me and us.
“My uncle told me a million times to wear a rubber so I wouldn’t get anybody pregnant. I guess I listened. I’ve never had sex without a condom. And I get tested every six months. Just in case.”
I sigh softly and smile at him in the faint light, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.
He removes my glasses with infinite care and sets them on the center console between the front seats.
He lowers his lips to mine and we kiss softly.
He sinks into me, hot and hard.
I am ready for him, wet and aching.
The sex is slow, quiet, and intense. Every cell in my body tingles with feeling for this man. It is the best sex I’ve ever had, and I haven’t even had an orgasm yet. We say nothing, never breaking our kiss, but our bodies say everything. I have multiple orgasms, each one building off the last. During orgasm number six, it’s so damn delicious I close my eyes and see stars. My core clenches so hard, I think I’m going to tear his cock off. But he drives into me incessantly, throbbing inside me with every thrust, building toward his own intense orgasm. I feel him start to come, his cock growing impossibly large at the last moment before his own release.
As he falls into me, he breaks our kiss and buries his face between the seat cushion and my ear. His voice is raspy, tight, and afraid. “Don’t leave me, Lex.” He’s crying as he orgasms, emptying himself inside me. “Don’t fuckin leave me. Please…”
His words stir my heart, touching me more deeply than I ever thought possible. This is beyond sex, this is… everything. My body launches into a final life-altering seventh orgasm as his seed pours into me. I gasp and scream and nearly die as my entire body shakes beneath his.
As our orgasms fade and the silent pounding of our hearts fills the car, I whisper.
“I’m here, Connor. I’m right here.”
Epilogue
ELECTRA
ONE YEAR LATER…
Dust kicks up behind the RV as we drive down the long dirt road leading to my parents’ farm house at the back of their walnut farm. We pass row after row of leafy green walnut trees.
“This place is beautiful,” Connor says, at the wheel of the RV.
To my complete surprise, Connor Hughes is still in my life. To be honest, I thought after he told me about his parents, things between us would implode in a matter of weeks or even days. The way Connor stuffs everything down, whether it’s about his parents, being raised by his uncle, even how he deals with the aftermath of Ryan’s accident, screams hot mess. I kept waiting for Connor to have a meltdown and run away again. But he didn’t.
Are we dating?
I’m not really sure what we’re doing. But we see each other almost every day. We don’t live together and I don’t know if we ever will, but I try to stay focused on the present moment. I learned that novel concept from my hippie parents.
I also see Ryan Hansen and his family all the time. They’re very much Connor’s family, and we’ve all become very close since my article about Connor and Ryan went public.
As promised, Cecile flew out for Christmas. She and Ryan are officially a couple. It’s a long distance thing for now, but I think those two will go the distance. Their biggest struggle is where to live. Cecile wants to move to the U.S. Ryan wants to move to France. Go figure.
So here I am with Connor, visiting my parents. I never thought that would happen. But I’ve spent so much time with Connor’s extended family (the Hansens), I decided it was time I introduce him to mine.
We pass a wooden sign nailed to the rustic ranch fence that runs between the orchard and the house.
He chuckles. “Warmoth Walnuts?”
I scoff, “I didn’t name it.” I’m nervous about bringing Connor to my parents’ ramshackle hippie paradise, but he insisted we stop here. “This farm and the farm house are literally a hundred years old.” I groan. “I hope you don’t mind using an outhouse, because that’s all they have.”
“This place has an outhouse?” He wheels the RV into a dirt area beside the farm house, parking in the shade of the trees.
“I told you it was old.” It’s embarrassing to say it, but my parents have never had any money. It’s sad that this RV has better plumbing than my parents’ house. They should’ve stayed in the apartment we had in high school. “I hate that smelly outhouse. Getting up to pee in the middle of the night is the worst. Especially when it’s cold out. Your butt freezes to the seat if you don’t hover. Hover-peeing while you’re half asleep is really annoying.” I glare at him. “And don’t you even think about trying to tip it over when I’m in it.”
“Awww, I would never do that,” he winks.
“You better not. If you do, I’ll lock you in there with the nearest skunk.”
“Are there skunks out here?”
“Yes. And they hate practical jokers like you and will spray you on sight.”
He shuts off the engine. The silence of the remote farm is immediate. “I can’t get over how quiet it is out here. You wouldn’t know L.A. was only an hour away.”
“Trust me, sometimes it can get too quiet out here.”
We step out of the RV and look around. The screen door on the covered porch of the farm house opens and my mom and dad walk down the steps.
I smirk, “See? I told you they were hippies.”
“They look like farmers to me.”
“Fine. But they’re hippie farmers. Don’t let their lack of paisley and tie-dye fool you.” I’m a little bit worried how my parents will treat Connor. After all, they knew about how he treated me in high school.
Dad walks up to Connor and hugs him without shaking hands. “I’m Gerry Warmoth. You can call me Gerry.” He wraps his arms around me, his eyes wet. “So good to see you, Sunshine.”
I hug back. “Good to see you too, Dad. I mean, Gerry.”
He chuckles, still weepy.
“I’m Sage,” Mom smiles her sunflower smile and hugs Connor like he’s her long lost son, patting him on the back. “So good to finally meet you. Are you two ready for some lunch?”
“I’m starving,” Connor smiles.
Mom serves walnut butter and fig sandwiches. We sit at the picnic-style table on the screened off front porch, eating in the warm summer breeze. For dessert, Mom serves walnut maple pie. Our conversation covers an abbreviated version of what’s been happening over the past year.
My parents have turned Warmoth Walnuts into a burgeoning business. They now have their organic certification and ship their walnuts all over the U.S. and Canada, and are working on a contract with a major distributor in the U.K. Mom has developed her own line of flavored walnuts that sells in all the health food stores, and she’s trying to get them into Whole Foods. With the money they’ve made, they put in two bathrooms in the old farm house. No more late night trips to the outhouse!
Connor completely cut ties with Gloria and found a new agent at CAA, one of the b
iggest talent agencies in Hollywood. He also did that screen test for Xavier Soto and Torrent Films. To his surprise, they cast him in the movie. Not a big budget feature film, but it’s still an actual movie that will air on the Lifetime Movie Network this fall. Connor isn’t a Hugh Jackman or a Channing Tatum. Yet. But, with Connor’s natural abilities as an actor and his incredible looks, the sky is the limit.
As for me, I still haven’t won the Pulitzer Prize, but I was lucky enough to be officially nominated in the feature writing category. Late last year, Vince Pitts saw to it that my article about Connor and Ryan was excerpted in the L.A. Times and he secretly submitted it for consideration to the Pulitzer Board, if you can believe that. Now I get to put Pulitzer Nominated on all my bylines.
“Do you two have plans with that RV of yours?” Dad asks. “Or did you just drive it out so Sunshine wouldn’t have to use the old outhouse?”
I shake my head and snort. Ugh. Appreciating my parents and their hippie ways will take some work.
“We’re going on a cross country road trip,” Connor says. “To see all the famous American destinations.” He smiles at me. “The Grand Canyon. The Mile High City. The Windy City. The Big Asspple.” He smirks at me.
“The big what?” Dad asks.
“The Big Apple,” I grin, rolling my eyes.
Dad lifts his eyebrows. “You mean New York?”
“Yeah,” Connor smiles.
“That sounds like a fun trip,” Mom says. “I’m sure it will bring you two closer together.”
Connor gives me a strange look.
I smile at him for a moment.
Suddenly uncomfortable, I look out the porch screens at the endless rows of walnut trees surrounding the farm house. It’s getting close to harvest time. The green-hulled nuts are already falling from the trees.
I can’t escape the feeling that this road trip is the beginning of the end for Connor and I. Not that something tragic will happen. Well, not like we’ll die. But I can’t escape the feeling that after the trip, Connor and I won’t last once the sex eventually gets old (which seems impossible) or his career takes off and he gets too busy for me or who knows what.
Dad stands up from his chair, finished with his walnut pie. “Want a tour of the farm, Connor?”
“Sure,” he smiles. “You coming, Lex?”
“I’ve already seen it,” I smile. “Don’t let him put you to work.”
Connor chuckles, “I won’t mind. I’ve got a belly full of walnut sandwiches to keep me going.”
Dad pats him on the back and they walk down the porch steps together.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
ELECTRA
I help Mom clean up in the kitchen.
“He sure is cute, Elle.”
“I know,” I smirk, sponging a soapy plate in the sink. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego is already big enough.”
“How are things between you two?”
I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Love is always complicated, Elle.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it love.”
“It looks like love to me.”
“Well, he’s never told me he loves me.”
Mom looks thoughtful. “Never?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure? Maybe he said it and you forgot.”
I level a look at her. “I think I’d remember, Mom.”
“Do you love him?
“I guess.” I hate to say it out loud. It feels like I’m opening myself up for disaster.
“Have you told him you love him?”
“No, but…” I roll my eyes. “Isn’t the guy supposed to say it first?”
“Does it really matter who says it?”
“Ugh! Mom! Why do you always have to be so annoying?”
She chuckles to herself while setting a freshly rinsed plate in the dish rack. “If you love him, you should tell him, Elle.”
“Do you remember what happened with Dylan Montgomery at UCLA?”
“That was a few years ago, honey. Remind me.”
I huff, “I told Dylan I loved him after three months. Three months later, I found out he’d been a cheating bastard the whole time we were going out! I swore I’d never tell another guy I loved him after that.”
“Maybe it’s time you reconsidered your vow,” she smiles. “I have a good feeling about Connor.”
“You and your feelings. What if they’re wrong?”
“The only way you’ll find out is by taking a risk with your heart. Love is always a risk. That’s why it’s important.”
“If you say so,” I groan.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
ELECTRA
After dinner that evening, the four of us play Scrabble on the porch under the soft light of an old Coleman lantern. I kick ass. Connor and my parents try to compete, but nobody knows the two-letter words as well as I do.
Despite my protests, Connor convinces me to sleep in the guest bedroom instead of the RV. Mom and Dad are of course pleased. I have to admit, they’ve fixed up the farm house nicely. It now has a charming country style that is very homey. They sure have turned this place around.
“Can you help me get this window open?” I snarl at Connor as I fight with it in the moonlit bedroom. “It’s glued shut and this place is an oven.”
“Give it some muscle, Warmoth,” Connor chuckles, lying on the bed naked.
“You give it some muscle, Connor Huge.” I giggle.
He comes up behind me, pressing his naked hard on against my granny panties.
“Back off, buster. Not in my parents’ house,” I bark. He apparently didn’t read the rulebook before coming here. “If you try anything, I’ll have to school you like I did at Scrabble.”
“You can school me in the bedroom all you want.”
“I’m talking about the kind of school where you study books and take exams and get detention. The un-fun kind.”
“As long as you’re the teacher, I’m game,” he grins, easily opening the old window. He gazes out at the full moon.
I stare at his full moon. “Would you get away from the window? You’re totally naked.”
“The only people watching are the walnut trees.”
“You never know with my parents around. They could be outside naked moon bathing,” I snicker.
He turns around, his cock staring straight at me. He arches an eyebrow.
“No, Connor,” I hiss, irritated. “I don’t want to have sex in my parents’ house! It’s weird. They’d probably tell us tomorrow over breakfast that they heard us, but ‘that’s okay’ and it’s ‘totally natural’ and we ‘shouldn’t be ashamed of our bodies’. Do you want to have that conversation with them over walnut pancakes? I sure don’t.”
He smiles and climbs into bed next to me. “All right, but I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck you in your sleep.”
“That’s ridiculous. Nobody does that.” Strangely, I would very much like to find out what it feels like…
He shrugs, lacing his fingers behind his head on the pillow. “What do you expect, Lex? You think those granny panties make you less hot?”
“Yes.”
“You are sadly mistaken. And in a few hours, you will also find out what it feels like to wake up to an orgasm.”
I’m speechless. But the idea he might really do it secretly thrills me and I’m suddenly very aware of the cotton of my t-shirt rubbing against my tightening nipples.
“You’re getting turned on just thinking about it, aren’t you? I bet your pussy is already tingling…”
“Shut up!” I hiss and pull the sheet up to my neck. “I’m going to sleep.”
“You just want to get to the part where I wake you with an orgasm quicker, don’t you?”
Guilty, I say nothing.
“I’ll wait until I know you’re out like a light. Then I’ll touch your pussy so softly with my fingers, you won’t even know it’s happening. Lightly across your lips at first, until you’re turned on and to
tally wet, but you’ll still be asleep. I’ll work your clit for awhile. Nothing intense, just enough to relax you even more. Then I’ll slide my finger inside you. An inch at a time. Maybe you’ll start having sex dreams, not even knowing it’s me. When you’re good and ready, I’ll spoon up behind you, just touching the tip of my dick against your—”
“Okay! Parents’ house! Can we go to sleep now?!”
He chuckles but says nothing more.
We lie in bed together for who knows how long, listening to the quiet night sounds of the remote farm. There’s no way I’m getting to sleep now. But there’s also no way I’m having sex in my parents’ guest bedroom. Unless of course Connor tricks me into it…
“I really like your parents,” he whispers, startling me.
“Thanks. I guess they’re not the worst parents ever. But I will never be a hippie like them. Or live on a farm.”
“How about in an RV?”
“As long as we spend half our time in the city, you’ve got yourself a deal,” I joke. I don’t know if I mean it. Living in an RV was never in my life plans. I don’t think he means it either.
Eventually I start to drift off to sleep, only half wondering if he’ll wake me with that orgasm he promised.
Out of the blue, he mutters, “I love you, Lex,” saying it almost like he’s talking to himself. “I think I always have.” His voice has a fragility and a softness I’m not used to. It reminds me of how he sounded the night he told me about losing his parents. “And I know I always will.”
I stare at the ceiling for a long time.
Crickets chirp outside. A summer breeze billows the sheer curtains into the room like angel’s wings.
My voice is tight when I whisper, “I love you too, Connor Hughes.”
He reaches for my fingers under the covers and squeezes my hand. Something sharp presses into my palm. “Ouch, Connor! What is that?”
He stares at me in the moonlit darkness. “Marry me.”
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