Encounter at a ComicCon Ch. 02

Connor

I am such an idiot, I thought as I listened to CeCe's message on the hotel phone for about the tenth time. She had given me no less than three opportunities to tell her who I was, but I was having too much fun enjoying her company without my celebrity being in the way to tell her. It was a serious violation of her trust. I knew it. I even knew it at the time. Like I said, I am such an idiot.

Connor? It's Cecelia. I... I... You probably know I left by now. I'm calling from home. I've had a few hours to think about it and I'm not sure if I'm more angry at you for deceiving me or angry at myself for being so... Naive? Trusting? Stupid? Seriously. I hope you'll have fun when you tell your friends about the girl you fucked at the Con who didn't even know who you were. God! I am so stupid. I really liked the guy I met last night. Too bad he doesn't really exist, I guess. Have a nice life.

(I hear the noise that she makes in her throat that I already know means she is frustrated. Then this coda in a mutter that I'm pretty confident she doesn't intend for me to hear.)

I am soooo going to invent something that allows people on cell phones to hang up angrily because just hitting a soft button on a smartphone doesn't really cut it.

The problem is that the guy she met last night is the 'real' me. It's the celebrity who is the fake.

I seriously hate going to these conventions. Sure, for the most part the fans are incredible, but just one or two bad ones and the whole thing goes to shit. I always bring my crew along to keep things real. My brother is the ringleader, but they are all guys I've known most of my life, from at least before I 'made it'. With my friends around it at least makes things bearable.

We were hanging out in the bar of the hotel we were staying at, watching baseball and joking around with each other on the night my life got turned upside down.

"Did you guys see the rainbow-haired beauty at the bar," my oldest friend, Matt asked the crew as we sat watching a baseball game. "I've watched at least a half dozen guys go up to her and get shot down with barely a sideways glance. She is cold blooded."

I looked over and immediately saw who he was talking about. Wild hair, cute face, luscious full lips, and an hourglass figure. Her posture was ramrod straight as she ate her dinner and sipped her drink.

"She's got a body made for fucking, that's for sure," my entirely too crude brother whistled softly.

"Jesus, Damon! Show some respect. That is clearly a lady you are talking about."

"Listen to you! Already defending her from the dogs surrounding her."

"She seems pretty good at defending herself," I replied.

"I'll bet you can't get her to talk to you either," Damon snickered.

As I watched, I saw her deflect yet another suitor with a quick word. She looked like she didn't belong here with the unwashed masses. She was so coolly self-contained.

"I'll bet I can," I said as I watched the bartender hand her one of the trivia consoles.

I walked over to her and tried to strike up a conversation. At first she wasn't interested, but I persisted. Eventually she even looked at me, but I didn't see the light of recognition in her eyes. She started teasing me like we were old friends almost immediately, which had me reciting baseball statistics in my head in an effort to tamp down my flaring arousal.

She allowed me to be her partner in the trivia game and I had the best 'date' of my life with this gorgeous, smart, and funny girl who had no idea who I was. I must admit that the fact that there were no less than three trivia questions that were about me or one of my movies, all of which she answered without my help, made it clear that she was familiar with me and my work. I should have taken the opportunity to reveal my identity, but selfishly kept it to myself.

As the night dragged on I could barely keep my hands off of her, eventually I stopped trying. She didn't seem to mind my touch, other than that her killer instinct had her adorably hungry to win so she complained about me distracting her. It was hilarious that she had absolutely no idea how distracting her presence was to me.

It took every ounce of self-control I had not to pick her up and carry her to my hotel room after she returned the passion of my victory kiss with equal passion of her own. I couldn't risk paparazzi photographing her in my arms like that. I knew I had to protect her from that at all costs. I told her to follow me at a discrete distance and the minutes I spent waiting for her to come to my room, worrying that she wouldn't come to me, were the longest minutes of my life.

What a night! She was everything I've ever dreamed of in a woman. She smelled like heaven, or at least like citrus and vanilla, which is what I will think heaven smells like until provided with other evidence. She tasted delicious. I couldn't get enough of her. Her body responded to mine in ways that were beyond my experience. I took her to heights of pleasure and followed right behind. It was glorious. At least until the condom broke. God damnit. The look of panic in her eyes was unmistakable. I immediately wanted to protect her from her fear. The thoughts that bounced around my head surprised me, though. I wasn't panicked at all. I mean, what's so bad about a broken condom with a woman like her? There was a line of thought I wasn't willing to follow just then.

We spent some time just talking to each other after that. I can't express how good it made me feel to hear her tell me that she enjoyed my intellect. I don't think anyone has ever told me that. This gorgeous, witty, genius of a woman thought that I was smart. Talk about an ego boost.

And then I made love to her. It was sublime. It was like we were destined for each other. We fell asleep wrapped up in each other. I woke once to find her curled up on her side facing away from me. I couldn't resist being her 'big spoon' and folded myself around her, tucking her against my body and cupping her breast. I fell back to sleep, thinking about how I had to reveal my identity to her in the morning. I'd already let it go too long and I had the feeling she'd be mad. I just didn't want her to feel like I tricked her. When I woke much later, she was gone. Damn! I needed to find and talk to her before she found out who I was from somebody else.

It was pretty late in the morning when I gathered the crew together to head over to the Con. I planned to stop at the front desk to see if I could leave CeCe a message, but it turned out I didn't have to since I ran into her when getting out of the elevator. Her face absolutely lit up when she saw me, but I could tell she was embarrassed, too. I nervously asked her to dinner, and she accepted. But like a coward I did not take the opportunity to tell her who I was. 'Bad mistakes... I've made a few', as the song goes. I am not sure what I was thinking would happen. Honestly I was not surprised at how she reacted. I had violated her trust. I'd kept vital information from her. I just wish I had a Mulligan. I'd do anything to fix what I broke with CeCe. I'm pretty sure she's my soulmate and I ruined things within the first 24 hours of knowing her.

How am I ever going to fix this? I'm sure I can find her. How many twenty-something women named Cecilia Banks can there be in the world? But maybe I shouldn't. She'd made her opinion of me pretty clear. Maybe I should just leave her alone.

Cecilia

"Want to tell me about him," Jennifer asked me.

"Hmmm? What?" I answered.

"The guy you've been mooning about since the weekend. Who is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Jenn just rolled her eyes at me. We were sitting together at a round table in the cafeteria at our work. It was well past 1pm so there were only a handful of people in there.

"Come on, CeCe. I know you. You are preoccupied to say the least. Have you made any progress on projects this week? You can never concentrate on work when you are having relationship problems. You are all hung up on some guy."

I glared at her for a long time but didn't say anything, but she stared right back.

"Fine. It's complicated."

"So was it someone you met on your weekend of adventure out west?"

"Maybe... ."

"It WAS," Jenn was so excited, her eyes dancing. "Did you hook up with some dude?"

I looked at her, my lips pressed tightly together.

"You DID!" she yelled.

"Come on, keep your voice down," I whispered hoarsely.

"You don't know his name, do you?"

"I do too!"

"First and last?"

"Of course."

"Does he know your name?"

"Of course he does!"

"So why all the moping? Call him. Phone sex could take the edge off until you can see each other again."

"Ummm. It's complicated," I answered again lamely.

"How is it 'complicated'?"

"I thought we made a real connection and then I found out... Well, it's not important. I'm not going to try to contact him."

Jenn looked at me, her lips pursed in a sour expression, and nodded.

"So I would rather just drop it, okay?"

We finished lunch and went back to our cubicles to work, but Jenn's observations had me worried. Did everyone know I was moping over a guy? I had to get my act together.

Connor

CeCe's running away hit my like an absolute blow. And I knew I had no one to blame but myself. I was absolutely gutted. When my brother arrived at my room to get me to come out for another night of debauchery I refused to even open the door. Too bad I'd given him a key because he was not afraid to use it. He walked in and found me lying spread eagle on the floor in the middle of the room, listening to Cece's message over and over and over on the hotel phone.

"What the hell, bro?" he said, towering over me.

"She ran away," I said in explanation.

"Who ran away?"

"CeCe. The girl with the rainbow hair. The love of my life..."

"Dude! Drama much?

"So she ran away. Are you going to chase her? Or just bellyache about it?"

I was torn. I liked CeCe and felt like I should respect her wishes and just let her go. But I REALLY liked her. And maybe she now regretted running away? I certainly had my own regrets about the whole situation. The thing is, I knew I'd have to be the one to try to patch things up. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't be able to get close enough to me to do so.

Maybe if I knew more about her life I could understand better what SHE wanted. I could have hired a private investigator to find her. I could have done a lot of things. Instead I did what any red blooded American man does when obsessed with a woman: I Googled her and stalked her on social media.

As I suspected, it was easy enough to find her, but she had her profile locked down pretty tight so all I could see were her public profile pictures and pictures her friends tagged her in. God, she was gorgeous! I especially liked the picture of her with two girlfriends on the beach, CeCe in a tiny white with blue polka dot bikini. Wow! Her mother, on the other hand, was not quite so tech-savvy and thus was a treasure trove of information. Her mother's page was wide open for viewing and from there I discovered the city where CeCe lived and who she worked for and what she did there.

Do you know the woman has over a dozen patents in her name? She's a fucking genius. She also publishes technical papers a couple of times a year. I know I am completely unworthy of her but I can't help myself.

The cyber-stalking certainly didn't help me try to forget about her. Over the course of the week I just got more and more obsessed. My brother caught me looking at CeCe's mom's Facebook page and informed me I was bonkers and threatened an intervention. Then he did the only thing he could do for me. He found out her home address. I refused to ask how he did it, but I was thankful.

Cecilia

The sound of the doorbell woke me out of a deep sleep on Saturday morning. I'm normally an early riser, but the emotional stress of the week had me exhausted. I looked at the clock and saw it was past 9am and I had no business still being in bed. I should have already been on and gotten back from my morning run. I groaned, stretched, and rolled out of bed as I heard the doorbell again.

"All right, hold your horses," I muttered, running my fingers through my rainbow hair, causing it to stick out all over my head. At least I was decently dressed in my tight tank top and loose flannel pajama pants. Not that the Amazon delivery driver ever seemed to care. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I finally made it to the front door, and pulled it open

I looked up into the intense blue eyes of Connor MacDougal, gasped, and fainted dead away.

I woke up laying on my sofa in my living room, Connor sitting on the floor next to me patting my hand.

"Jesus, CeCe. I'm sorry for startling you."

"Connor. What are you doing here?" I asked shrilly, trying to push myself into a seated position.

"Shhh. CeCe, please relax. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

I let my head drop back against the arm of the sofa and closed my eyes, feeling tears slide between my eyelashes and down my temples.

"I'm here to apologize," he said softly.

"I am so sorry for not being honest with you. You... I should have told you who I was. I just... I liked how you treated me just as the person you knew. I liked being able to be the real me with you and I didn't want to ruin it. I'm sorry."

"I thought you were... I thought you were making fun of me," I whispered. "That I was just a joke to you."

"Never," he said, drawing my hand to his mouth and kissing my palm.

I sat up on the sofa and pulled on him to get him to sit next to me. I put my face on his shoulder and cried, feeling his strong arms wrapped around me and pulling me tightly against him. He stroked my hair and before I knew it he was kissing me softly. It didn't take long before we were kissing each other urgently, with more passion. His hands slid up under my tank top and cupped my breasts, his fingers pinching and teasing my nipples. I moaned and pressed my chest into his hands. He dropped his hands back to the hem of my shirt and pulled it up. I lifted my arms so he could take it off me more easily. His head immediately dipped down and he captured one of my nipples in his mouth, causing me to hiss in pained pleasure.

"Are you okay," he asked, releasing my nipple and looking up at me in concern.

"Yes. Umm. I think I'm just hypersensitive. I like when you touch me."

He smiled at me, his eyes dancing with mischief and desire. He dipped his mouth to me again, eliciting a low moan from me. His fingers slid over my ribs and then hooked into the waistband of my pajama pants, pushing them down past my knees along with my panties. Again I found myself completely naked in his presence while he remained completely clothed.

He slid to the floor between my knees, his mouth on mine, his hands sliding up and down from my hips to my breasts and back. My hands caressed his arms, his chest, his shoulders. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling gently on the curls at the nape of his neck. His lips moved down my neck as his fingers lightly brushed against my neatly trimmed mons.

"Oh! Yes!" I gasped.

"I have been dreaming of tasting you again all week," he growled, his tongue and lips nipping down my hypersensitive skin. His fingertips found my clitoris and I gasped at his gentle touch. His lips moved down and soon he was strumming my clit with his tongue while his fingers found my hot opening and he thrust one digit inside of me, causing me to arch up towards him.

"Connor! Oh god! I'm coming! Oh god!" I cried out, when he drew my clit between his lips and sucked. My hips rocked against his hands and face while he licked and sucked me through my climax.

"Mmmm. Baby, that was so hot. You taste like honey."

"Wow. Just wow," I said, flopping back onto the sofa to try to catch my breath. I could see Connor looking at me with hunger in his eyes and and a sexy smirk on his lips. I sat up and pulled his lips to mine, enjoying how I tasted on his lips, the smell of me heavy in his beard. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

"I don't know what I did to deserve having such a talented tongue in my life, but I hope I continue to deserve it," I said dreamily.

He literally laughed at that and I arched my eyebrow at him in question.

"I'd like to return the favor," I said in my best sultry voice, "but I'm afraid I am not nearly as skilled as you are, so my enthusiasm is going to have to make up for my inexperience."

He chuckled again and pulled me against his chest and maneuvered my legs around his hips so he could stand up with me in his arms. I squealed when he lifted me, impressed at his feat of strength.

"You can have your chance for that later," he said, carrying me towards the back of my house. "Right now I need your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock.

"I assume your bed is this way?"

"Down the hall, second door on the left," I could barely gasp out with my breath coming rapidly and my heart thundering in my chest.

"You're a bit overdressed, don't you think?" I asked as he carried me.

"Give me a minute," he said.

He kicked the designated door open and lay me gently on the bed and then started stripping off his clothes, his eyes latched on to mine. I tried to calm my breathing and slow my heart rate because my whole body was trembling with my arousal and need. He slid into the bed on top of me, careful not to let his full weight crush me. His mouth captured mine and I melted into his embrace.

"God, CeCe. I've dreamed of this," he moaned.

Connor guided himself through my wetness and thrust into me, his weight held above my body on his elbows, his hands in my hair on either side of my head, his eyes searching mine for something I could not name.

My lips parted and I didn't even try to hold back my sighs of pleasure as he pumped in and out of my tightness, relentlessly. My pleasure built and built and built. He brought his hand down between us and stroked my clit, his mouth found the delicate skin of my neck. I felt my orgasm flare out from my belly. I imagined light shooting out from my fingers and toes as he sucked my skin into his mouth at the same time as he released his own pleasure into my womb. I could feel his hips continuing to pump in and out as he shot himself into my welcoming body until finally he stilled and slowly toppled onto his side next to me.

"I love you, CeCe," he murmured flipping onto his back

"What? You don't," I scoffed, staring at the ceiling. "We barely know each other."

"I do though," he whispered.

"That's post-coital bliss talking, you doofus."

"Maybe. But not only."

"Well, I like you a lot, Connor. But I can't say that I love you. Not yet." We were laying next to each other so I reached out and gathered his hand in mine and twined our fingers together. "We don't know all the ways we will drive each other up the wall. What if you hate my taste in music?"

"I don't. I already know your taste in music. You like show tunes but can't stand opera. You like 70s arena rock and bluegrass, but not metal. I learned all about what you like and what you don't by playing trivia with you."

"Well what about the fact that you have a dog and I have cats?"

"How do you know I have a dog," he said, turning on his side to look at me. "Have you been cyber-stalking me," he grinned.

"God, Connor! Everybody knows you have a dog."

"Don't you like dogs? I don't love cats, but I don't hate them either. How many do you have? You're not a crazy cat lady or anything, are you?"

"No, I'm not a 'crazy cat lady'. I follow the rule that goes 'one cat per person, plus one' so I have two," I said, giggling. "And I like dogs just fine. I just don't have room for one. My yard is tiny."