December Rain (11 page)

Quinn chews with frustration, his fork hitting the plate harder with each bite.
Say something! Seriously. Why won’t she let us be happy? Gotta be the most frustrating woman on the planet… and I pick her. Typical!
He drops his knife causing her to jump. “Sorry,” he says.
I wish she’d take off those stupid sunglasses so I can see her.

Jeez. What’s his problem? He seems mad. Join the club and get in line!
Monica starts scooping all the pineapple out of the fruit bowl.

Seriously? She’s only gonna eat the pineapple? Whatever. Always gotta be difficult.
He shakes his head and waits to retrieve the strawberries and mango left in the bowl.

They continue eating without conversation, but the clamber of utensils and glasses slamming gets louder and louder.

“Can you call me a cab?” Monica starts to get up.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Staring at his reflection in her sunglasses only pisses him off more.

“What do you expect from me? I didn’t ask you to bring me here! In fact… I remember screaming that I didn’t want to leave with you!”

“Did you think we’d let you leave with Jack?”

“It’s not your business who I would have left with!”

“Why are you acting like I did something to you? You left me!
You
ended us. And I respected
your
decision and disappeared.”

“Really? Cause I could’ve sworn you were in Maui!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d be there? And come into my gallery? What, you got dibs on the whole island?”

“Yours? You own the gallery?” She shakes her head not caring for an answer. “That’s what made him finally decide to end it.”

Quinn stills remembering Alex’s pain filled face. “So you blame me for Alex leaving?”

“No. Oh… no.” Her tears start pouring and she shakes her head, dizzy and suddenly cold. Before she steadies herself Quinn’s arms cradle her with a stable warmth. He gently slides her sunglasses off, and wipes her burning tears. She dives her aching eyes into his chest wishing the T-shirt wasn’t a barrier between them.

“Sweetie, don’t cry,” he says. “Please don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault at all. I drug him through his pain… I prolonged the inevitable. And then last night… Oh God!!! I fucking ruined everything. For everybody. I’m the worst person in the world.” Heavy sobbing consumes her breath and she gives into his embrace a little more.

“No. That’s not true.” Quinn nuzzles the top of her head and strokes her damp hair. “It’s too cold up here for you to be like this. Your hair’s still wet. Let’s go inside.” He guides her towards the door keeping one arm around to hold her safe until the stairs. “You got it?”

Monica nods and takes the rails as her eyes adjust to the dimmer light. Quinn’s right behind her, guiding towards a room she’s not seen yet. It’s an old parlor or sitting room with another huge fireplace that roars with warmth. The white walls are paneled and nearly bare. A large plush vanilla sofa swallows her in a down softness so welcoming her crying ceases on contact. It could also be Quinn’s proximity. He hasn’t detached from her since the stairs. His left arm holds her close as his right hand reaches to lift her chin.

When her eyes finally meet his, she lets go. There’s nothing he can’t see when he looks into her eyes, and she feels that vulnerable pull drawing her in.
Did I try to forget how beautiful he is? Those eyes are my ocean. The sweet creases that curl when he laughs look so worried. Tired. But still perfect. Those lips…

Monica stares at them a moment too long and he can’t resist the unspoken invite. His breath sweeps in and her head falls into his hand. Her lips melt into his slow, soft kiss. As they sink further into the sofa her hand traces up his bicep, across his shoulder and finds its way to the sharp point of his strong jaw. Quinn’s free hand squeezes her firmly as it trails down her back and pauses on her robe tie. His warm delicious tongue gently coaxes her to reunite as they dance slowly into a familiar whirl of heated breath. Monica exhales into his mouth and frantically scrambles to lift his shirt off. She needs to feel his skin; to see the beautiful branches that twist around his body. With a swift move the shirt is forgotten, his tattoo as vibrant as ever, and his lips resume their rightful place. He eases the tie of her robe loose and slides his hands inside, claiming her warm naked body.

“Oh Monica… I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers with that cracking voice.

She can literally feel the weight of his words as his lips tremble and his eyes swell over. She’s overcome as emotion takes full control. Her tears join his as their kisses grow harder and more frantic. His hands slide along her thighs and the curves of her hips. Her fingers dive beneath the small of his back in search of his firm behind. She fights the drawstring of his pants and struggles to free him. There’s a little smirk on his face as he unties the string and rids himself of the plaid pajamas. She returns a slight smile and sits up to slide her arms out of the robe, but he quickly pins the sleeves back into the cushions before she’s free. Her naked body is exposed, but her arms are unable to move. He hovers above with a dark gaze reflecting his pain, and need for her complete surrender.

Anything… do anything you want. I’m yours. Completely.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispers through her trembling lips.

A tear falls from his face and slides down the trail already drawn on her cheek. He stays frozen above her, stilling his breath and reading her eyes. He looks like he’s going to say something, but he just gnaws at his lower lip.
Please don’t leave me again! I couldn’t take it if you did it again!
He releases her arms and sits back on the sofa, defeated.

Monica sits up, in a very un-Monica-like way, gracefully slides her arms out of the robe and climbs onto his lap. With the gesture he welcomes her into his arms as their naked bodies sync in breath, movement, and temperature. She looks down into his ocean and dives in for a taste. With one hand tangling into her hair and the other grasping her round behind, he lifts her off the couch. Her legs cling to him tightly as he steadies his stance and carries her to a large four poster bed in the next room. Its softness is as welcoming as the sofa.

Their bodies twist and rock together as they rediscover nearly every forgotten inch. Monica’s fingers trace along the outline of the branches that hug his torso. Quinn’s lips graze along to outermost skin on the edge of her right breast. The tickle and heat from his stubble make her nipples tighten. The chills spike firmly across her entire body as he draws his tongue along the tip of her perfect pink point. She watches his mouth descend and devour her breast. His hand takes what his mouth can’t, and he declares what’s his.

Monica’s fingers knead into his back and firm shoulders. His muscles feel larger than before. Maybe she just tried to forget everything about his body because no one could compare. No one else has ever had this effect on her. His lips make their way down her stomach and along her pelvic bone, delivering suckling kisses with his full strong lips. No other mouth could turn her inside out. There’s never an ordinary move, never a meager gesture.
How could I have left any of this?

And he can’t restrain himself from tasting her for the first time in more than three months. Her body quickly responds with tight, nearly painful contractions as her muscles yearn for him deep within. His tongue greets her swollen lips as her back arches off the mattress in sweet pleasure. He hooks his hands around her curves and pulls her hard as his mouth moves with feverish building speed.

“Oh!” she gasps. “Oh Quinn…” Her hands grip near the base of his neck as he takes no prisoners.

He can feel her quickly nearing his goal so he stops. “Do you surrender?”

The question throws her. “Huh?’ She tries to understand.

“Do you surrender to me?” His eyes burn without a hint of humor or irony. The question comes from a deep and dark place, and she can tell he needs to hear absolution and reassurance.

“Yes.” She nods. “Everything is yours. Only yours.” She traces his lower lip with her fingertip. “I will only ever want you.”

Her honest words are the key that unlocks swirling firm kisses that make her legs stiffen and body start to twitch. He takes her fast and hums with that sweet vibration as she unravels in his mouth. The rush of wetness is overwhelming, but she doesn’t feel embarrassed as before. She feels electric and wanton.

Quinn moves up to press his body into hers, sharing her sweetness in an intensely dizzying kiss. He reaches into the bedside and quickly tears into a condom. His teeth gently tug on her lip as he lowers himself into her agonizingly slow. Yet another repressed memory. So full. So big. Quinn’s length makes her eyes grow wide with excitement. Once he’s deep he pauses before they begin rocking like waves in the deep sea. The memory of their lovemaking in her San Francisco hotel comes back as she rides his slow steady rhythm.

Her body clenches around him as he slows to prolong her torture. She captures his lower lip then slowly lets him go. He straightens his elbows high above her and plunges in again and again. Wave after wave, until she’s moaning with each thrust. He takes her breath each time until she feels his release begin to pulse, his body arching and flexing above her. Every beautiful abdominal muscle ripples until his weight crushes down. Monica’s legs go limp as they try to tame their breathing together.

His eyes meet hers as he moves to lie beside her. He takes her face and plants a soft, slow kiss before whispering, “Don’t leave me again. Please.” He shakes his head. “Never leave me again.”

“You don’t want me like this. I’m a mess.” Her voice is so quiet it’s barely audible. “We can’t start a relationship when I’m like this.”

He brushes her hair with his fingers and shrugs. “But we already started this... months ago, and...” He looks down for a brief second to get control. “It doesn’t just stop or go away when you aren’t here. I’m a mess too.” He searches for the words to convince her. “Build this with me. This is right.”

Monica lies beneath his gaze in awe. “I don’t understand how you can… trust…”

“I love you,” he says.

The last time he spoke those words she died a little inside. She knew she’d have to leave behind the purest love she’s ever felt. But now, the only thing in the way is her stubborn pride, her self-loathing.

“Mon, you’ve got to forgive yourself. You’ve got to see the wonderful woman that I see and forgive her.”

Her tears are back.
How does he know me? Read my eyes like that?
She gasps for air as a sweeping panic nearly brings her to hyperventilation.

“I love you,” he whispers in her ear. “All of you. I need you.”

“Oh Quinn!” She reaches for his face as his words calm her enough to let go. “I love you so much it scares me! I don’t want to fuck it up…” Her eyes are wide as they return to him. “I knew when I saw you in Hawaii that I couldn’t go on. And when he made the decision to go, I cowered like a martyr… like a victim… because I was too scared of this.”

His eyes and mouth are gently lifting as relief takes over. “I’m scared too. But this is it. This is where I want to be. Mess and all.” His lips sink into hers with a gentle electricity full of hope and promise.

When he pulls away she glances around the unfamiliar room. “I can’t believe you bought this place.” His face lights up and those little lines she loves crinkle beside his eyes.
His smile really is stunning. Those white teeth and that sexy jaw line. He could so easily be a model.

“Impulse buy,” he says.

“You know if you follow every impulsive whim…” She pauses to choose her words carefully before ruining the mood.

“Yes…” he coaxes.

“If you try to make every dream come true… you’ll take the fun away.”

He lets out a hearty laugh that she can feel through his diaphragm and shakes his head. “You’ll just have to dream up new things. I’ll make sure you never stop dreaming.”

His words land with conviction, and she trusts this to be true. All he’s done since they met was kindle her dreams. She looks around the room again to take it in. “It really is beautiful.”

“Just like you.” His eyes are heated again as he watches his fingers graze down the middle of her body. “I had to have this little piece of us to hope.” His fingers circle her pubic hair lightly, rippling shivers deep within. “But it hasn’t felt like home until right now.”

Monica raises her hands to his face and pulls him to her lips. She pushes him to his back and mounts him with the first real laugh she’s released in months. Lowering on top, she plants another possessing kiss then notices his alarm clock is on the floor. “This place is pretty bare.”

“I didn’t want to get too much furniture.”

“You didn’t blow all your money did you?” She closes her eyes, immediately regretting the intrusive words. “I’m sorry. That is SO not my business… I just worry… no-“

“Hey. It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around her. “And no. I didn’t spend all my money. I’m never careless with money. I know what it’s like not to have any… I don’t want to be there again.”

Now I feel really stupid.
She sinks with embarrassment.

“Look at me.” Quinn lifts her chin. “I didn’t want to buy too much without you.” He shrugs a little. “I wanted this place to reflect us, not just me.” She runs her thumb along his face, tracing the creases of his smile trail. “You need a tour,” he says, lifting her bare body off. He wraps her in the down comforter that is snarled over the footboard and says, “Come with me.”