I promised myself I wouldn’t get into a relationship so early in my life. I’m eighteen, for heaven’s sake, and I’ve just gotten the freedom to explore the world. And yet, on my first trip in search of independence, I find myself falling for a man. One who would no doubt want to tie me down to a city, to a cozy little white picket fence home with any number of his offspring. I mean, sure, I want those things at some point, but I just… I can’t settle down yet. Not until I’ve experienced more of life.
And yet, I want him.
The thought of Conor wanting someone other than me threatens to completely undo me. It’s all so confusing and unnerving.
I turn to glance at Conor, wondering if I could have love and my freedom. Is it too selfish to want both?
No, don’t think about that, Arianna.
With a deep sigh, I turn back to my laptop to continue with my editing from where I left off last night before Conor gave me the best orgasm of my life. Well, my first orgasm outside the little pleasure I’ve given myself in the privacy of my room. Christ, I didn’t think one could feel that way.
Stop, Ari!
I shake my head, hoping to push out thoughts of last night as I start working. For the next two hours, I manage to focus on the editing, and when I’m done, I immediately post the videos, smiling when they start getting a response. I go through the first comments, liking them and responding to questions for another hour. I’m about to shut my laptop and take a break when a message notification pops up.
The smile I didn’t know I was sporting freezes on my lips when I click on the notification and realize the message is from the same account that sent me the photo from the Dunes. And now, there’s another picture, more unnerving than the last. It’s Conor and me, walking hand-in-hand along Navy Pier. I’m laughing in this picture.
I was a nervous wreck all of yesterday, but I remember this moment—Conor offering a reprieve from my stress by making some lame dad joke. He must’ve sensed my unease and made a crack about Chicagoans bringing ladders to the Navy Pier because they heard the Ferris wheel was going up in price. The lameness of it had made me laugh aloud, and…someone captured that moment. That single moment of ease.
In the picture, Conor is looking down at me with a smile of his own. His expression is so open and full of affection that it makes my heart tug despite the circumstances behind the picture. I love it, I realize. The moment, the picture…and maybe even the man in it. No one’s ever looked at me like that, andI feel my heart swell with affection. I pull my eyes from my bodyguard’s beaming face and to the message below.
New co-host? Thought you were a solo act. See you soon.
I shut the laptop and yank the headphones from my head with more force than needed. It shouldn’t bother me that someone took a picture of me without my consent, but it does. I knew this would happen when I started posting online and built a following, but having it actually happen unnerves me.
I turn to glance at Conor, his profile a freaking masterpiece that should be painted and hung in some museum. Telling him about this fan will only work to ruin the trip, and it’s been fascinating watching the man let go and relax. I won’t let whoever this is ruin this trip for Conor or me. Besides, I have been more careful not to mention where we’re going next to my viewers. I won’t have to deal with the crazy fan anymore. There are many possible places my next stop could be, and I’m pretty sure that unless the person is a psychic, they’ll never be able to follow me.
It’s over.
I don’t have to think about it anymore.
I’m in a much better mood when we stop for lunch at the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. I knew I wanted to visit from the moment I saw it online, and when I step out of the van to stretch my legs after the long drive, I catch the smell of…well, I’m not quite sure, but it’s definitely unique. But then I glance up at the building, and my jaw drops.
The pictures I’ve seen of the place don’t do it any justice. It’s more impressive than any images posted online. The colorful murals are vibrant and intricate, depicting scenes of Native American life and what I imagine is the local history. I quicklygrab my camera, eager to capture every detail of it, mesmerized by the sheer scale of it all. I notice a gift shop to my left and make a mental note to check it out later.
“Where do you find these places?” Conor sounds just as awed as I am when he steps beside me.
“A friend recommended this place months ago,” I say, approaching the main entrance, and the closer I get, the more I get lost in the artwork. We take a tour around the massive structure, taking pictures and videos of the place before leaving to eat at a local diner close by. I almost forget about the fact that I slept naked next to Conor as I rave about the building. Conor humors me with a smile, eating silently as I give him a history rundown he didn’t ask for. After lunch, we stop at the gift shop, where I get a few things for my sister before heading back to the van.
I offer to drive for the next leg of the journey, and when Conor doesn’t argue, I circle the van to the driver’s side. I’ve barely opened the door before I find myself spun around, lips slamming hard against mine.
I promised myself I’d try to create some distance between the man and me, but the moment his lips touch mine, I melt. Conor holds me flush against him as he ravishes my mouth, and I moan with need, pushing into the kiss like I’m starved for affection.
I want him.
Touching me. Kissing me. Holding me. I want to fall asleep with his naked body pressed against mine. The thought alone is enough to have my nipples pebbling painfully behind my dress and heat flooding between my thighs.
Crazy. It’s crazy and confusing, but I can’t seem to help myself.
Conor pushes back before I can wantonly beg him to strip me and do to my body what he did last night. The spot between my legs is pulsing wildly, and the thought of his tongue rubbing wetly against my aching clit is driving me insane.
“Fuck, if you could see yourself right now,” he rasps, those heated eyes running over my body hungrily. “Let’s get the hell out of here before I fuck you in front of these nice people.”
I should be mortified by the words he’s saying, but I find myself whining when he pulls back, hating myself a little for having zero self-control around this man. Still, Conor simply winks at me before opening the door for me. He helps me into my seat, making me whimper when his hand grazes my aching breasts as he fastens the seatbelt. I don’t realize he’s doing it on purpose until his hand drops between my legs, sliding up my inner thighs and stopping short of touching my wet panties. “Later,” he says before pulling back and shutting the door behind me.
I don’t start the engine for the ten minutes it takes for my body to stop burning. We have three hours ahead of us before we have to stop for the night. I know I’ll crash if the man touches me again. With a warning glare at him, I finally start the van.
Conor behaves the entire ride but my mind doesn’t. My thoughts are consumed with what will happen tonight when we don’t have to worry about having an audience. By the time we stop at a campground near the Badlands National Park, I’ve worked myself into a mass of nerves. The air is refreshing, and the setting sun is stunning, but I find myself ignoring the view and watching Conor instead as he sets the van up. I don’t offer to help, content to watch him move around, drinking in every inch of a man I never thought I’d want as much as I do.
