“Get your clothes off now,” he breathes and abruptly lifts me off the bed.
Oh shit, the call ended. I’m not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but I undress anyway because Alan is naked and completely hard, and I am totally hot for whatever.
“Don’t play with me, Chrissie, unless you are ready to play.” He hoists me up and turns me on the bed pulling me back until my knees are on the edge.
He kisses my back and then that “wrong” spot, before he hovers at the right spot and then moves to kiss the back of my thighs.
He grabs my hips and fills me so quickly. He is touching me and the feeling of being completely filled makes my body burn and swallow him greedily. I groan and invert my back. The tilt allows him to penetrate more deeply. Slowly, he withdraws and then sinks into me. The tempo builds, harder and faster.
I see the mirror above the desk. He is watching us in it. I watch him watching us and it makes my blood scorch through my veins. The rhythm is quick and intense, and I revel in it, watching him, watching us, watching him watch me watch. And it is all there, in his face, in the reflecting mirror—his passion, his love, his pain and his beauty—and it is us I see, very right even in everything so very messed up about us both.
Quick, rough, and right. We come apart, together, and I explode around him in a chorus of squeaks and high-pitched whimpers.
Alan collapses on the bed, taking me with him until my head is cradled against his chest and we are both struggling to breathe.
He turns his head to look at me. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
I smile. “How long do we have the room?”
“Until tomorrow.”
“I didn’t think they would rent rooms by the hour at a motel named after a Disney movie.”
“Actually, they do.”
I lift up my face to look at him. “Really?”
He nods. I laugh.
“They couldn’t break a hundred and that’s all Linda had,” Alan says, lightly tracing my arm with his fingertips.
I start to laugh harder. “I forgot you don’t carry cash. Why didn’t you just charge it?”
He sighs, raking a hand through his hair, and he smiles. It should be a completely comforting kind of smile; it is relaxed, happy and slightly understated. I find it not comforting at all. I tense.
“The last thing you need, Chrissie, is for anyone to know we stayed here by the hour.”
* * *
I lie naked, sprawled over Alan’s chest, and we’ve been kissing and touching quietly for hours. I think the sex only ended because I feel drained, or else he would be working toward it again in this quiet after our passion. Alan’s sexual energy never wanes. All parts of Alan always rage simultaneously within him and never sleep.
Alan trails his fingers up and down my back. “So, did bouncing a bed in a motel named after a Disney movie work for you?”
I nod. I don’t want to talk. I just want to lie in this comfortable calm I feel in us both. I lay my cheek against his damp chest and can see through the window it’s late afternoon.
“We should get dressed. We should go,” he says. He kisses me, and then turns until we are spooning and I am wrapped in the warmth of his body. “Rene is probably almost to The Farm. Do you want to call Jack before we leave?”
Why did he mention Jack? I don’t want to let anything from the real world in yet.
“No. I don’t want to talk to him until we are face to face. I don’t want to risk accidentally starting anything while I’m on the phone. That wouldn’t be right.”
“Do you want me there when you talk to Jack?”
Oh jeez, that’s a lot to process. The thought of having Alan with me when I’m with Jack is very weird and unsettling. It’s one thing to be with Alan and another to try to picture Jack in the mix.
It was a sweet and kind offer, but just too strange to consider today. Still, I don’t want to hurt Alan’s feelings.
“I think that would be a little hard to do. I go home Sunday and you are out on the road the week after. And this is my shit, Alan. Something I need to take care of on my own.”
Alan eases back until he is staring directly into my eyes. “I can be there if you want me there, Chrissie.”
“I know. I just don’t see how.”
“Since you’re not going home, Chrissie, we can have Jack fly here before we leave on the road. Solution.”
I tense. It is not the first time he’s said I’m not going home, but it’s not really something we’ve talked about and I can’t tell if he is serious, just being kind, or what exactly he’s suggesting.
I pull out of his arms, pull on his shirt, and then sit on my knees staring down at him. “I’m going home, Alan. I have to finish school and go to college. I can’t just drop everything and run off with some guy.”
“I’m not just ‘some guy.’ I’m the guy you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”
My heart does a somersault.
Alan’s intense black eyes lock on me. “Why do you have to go back? What difference is finishing school going to make? It is the trap of ordinary people and you are not ordinary. What happened to just being, and being happy, or was that all just bullshit?”
My cheeks grow hot and my body goes cold. “I can’t stay, Alan.”
“Why?”
“It’s not how I’m made and you don’t really want me to stay, so why don’t we just leave it alone.”
Shit! Peaceful Alan evaporates before my eyes, replaced by angry Alan. “Don’t ever tell me how I feel. Don’t ever tell me what I want. You don’t even know what you want.”
Alan climbs from the bed and pulls on his jeans.
“You are not going back to Santa Barbara, Chrissie.”
He continues to dress, and when he’s got everything on except his shirt, he holds out his hand to me. “Give me my shirt. Get dressed. We’re getting out of here.”
Petulantly, I shrug out of it and toss it at him.
I pull on my panties, bra, and top and realize that my hands are shaking. I feel so sick and disoriented. I don’t want to go back to Santa Barbara. I have to. The thought of going home turns me into a cold, nervous wreck. But I can’t stay, even if every part of me wants to. I can’t stay.
I can feel him watching me. “Rene is probably at The Farm. We need to go.”
I nod and climb from the bed. I make clumsy work of trying to pull on my jeans.
“Fuck, Chrissie. Don’t cry.”
I shake my head. “I hate it when you’re mean. You can be so mean.”
“You’re not going back to Santa Barbara, Chrissie. There is no point in arguing about it. So why don’t we just go back to The Farm and be good to each other.”
Truce. He is calling a truce and I let him help me with my clothes, but my limbs feel suddenly weak and too heavy. Alan thinks he’s gotten his way. Discussion over. He believes I am staying. But I can’t. And I don’t know how I’m ever going to leave him.
* * *
When we get back to The Farm, all the dysfunctional are gone except the Rowans.
I am just climbing from the rust bucket Jeep when the front door swings open. Rene and Linda spring onto the porch together. Jeez, they are both in too short shorts and tank tops, with some kind of cocktail in hand.
Rene darts down to the driveway and flings her arms around me. We are hugging. We are laughing. God, how I’ve missed her. We’ve been through so much together. There is a part of me that will never make sense without Rene.
“I’m so glad to see you, Chrissie. The wedding was a nightmare. Thirty-seven was a nightmare. I don’t know how I got through it without going postal, and mother is, of course being mom, and I don’t know what to do about that. And jeez, what’s up with this farm? Why are we in the middle of nowhere? What the hell are we supposed to do here…?”
* * *
Since Bianca is gone, there is no chore list, and Alan and Len are in the kitchen making dinner.