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“We’re on the side of the road. You want to get caught like this?” The breeze picks up and rustles through his dark hair.
“I’d get caught like that every damn day if it meant I got to fuck you.”
I suck in a breath, take a step back, arrange myself. Rome does the same. It’s so heated, so reckless, and the energy of it crackles over the empty space around us. Every time we’ve had sex–twice in total, and both of those times today– the aftermath hasn’t been satisfying. It’s as if the desire only increases every time he pulls out of me. He’s more addictive than heroin. Instead of feeling pleasantly sated, I feel unhinged, possessed. I look at him and I want to drop to my knees and suck his cock until he comes down my throat, I want him to press me down onto the car hood and fuck me again, I want to put my tongue on every inch of his skin and mark it as my own.
I can tell he feels the same way.
I blink, clear my throat, take a step away from the man I’m completely obsessed with. Icannotget fucked again right now. If I do, I’ll faint. Then what is he going to do? Drive to Joshua Tree with a passed-out girl in the passenger seat?
I take one last look out over the stretch of desert. This is a two-track, not completely untouched space, which means that someone will be along sooner or later. “Okay,” I tell Rome. “I’m good to drive.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he says good-naturedly. “I’ll drive. Get in the car.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
AVERY
The rest of the night slips away. The second I sit down in the passenger seat, exhaustion pulls me under and I fall deeply asleep. The next thing that wakes me up is the sunrise. My eyes are glued together with old mascara and sleep, and I rub at them for a while before reality jolts me fully awake.We’re free.
The reality of Rome, driving my dad’s car, is surreal. He looks rumpled and delicious and I want more of him. Rome catches me looking out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I thought we were taking turns. How far—hey. We’re here.” This is the Joshua Tree of social media fame. Stacked boulders teeter on top of one another and the massive agave trees have been pulled right from a Dr. Seuss book. The mountains. Holy shit, the mountains. I’ve seen mountains plenty of times before, but not like this. Not at sunrise with Rome. And up ahead....
Trailers.
An echo of the laughter we shared over these trailers passes through me like a ghost.
“You weren’t kidding,” I whisper. “These are the trailers.” They sit close together in neat gatherings, and more than one has colorful fabric stretched between the gaps. Outdoor decks. It really is heaven. “This is magical.”
Rome’s hand comes down on mine. “Be careful, Aves.”
“Careful of what?” I want his hand on mine, but not as a warning.
“It’s magic, right? It’s not reality. Don’t mistake it for reality.”
Fine. I won’t do that. But another worry quickly descends as I glance at the clock built into the dash. It’s not even six a.m.
“Are we going to wake everybody up?”
“Doubt it.” Rome pulls into a spot in front of one of the trailers. “These hippies are usually up with the sun for one reason or another.” He stretches, then glances into the mirror. “Let’s let them know we’re here before they get the wrong idea. And if they do...come here. I’ll show you.”
We get out of the car and he puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me away from the trailers.
“Woah.”
“Yeah.”
This isn’t just a row of trailers sandwiched next to some highway. This place is gigantic. The open plain is dotted with...
“Are those yurts?”
Rome nods. “I didn’t want to say it...you know. Back there. Because I thought you’d kill yourself laughing.” He means it literally and it’s so sad, but also true.
“All right. Let’s do this.” Before I back out.
Nervousness bands itself around my lungs. I haven’t seen Rome’s dad since I was a child. And now we’re on a commune, which seemed a lot more quaint in my torture-house fantasies. What if his father doesn’t want us here? What if he’s just as dangerous as everybody else?
