December Rain (12 page)

He pulls her towards the parlor where their heated passion started. “I liked this little sitting room that someone created. You can tell this was a separate room at one point, although it had to have been tiny… but this archway had doors here.” He points to the stops that were never removed knowing she’d understand.

She looks into the hallway and back before saying, “It was a fainting room.”

“A what?”

“A fainting room. Usually at the top flight of stairs there was either a bench or a small room for ladies to catch their breath. The corsets were so tight that it was common to pass out from physical exertion.” She nods, satisfied with her assessment, and waits to move on with the home tour.

Quinn doesn’t move though. He stands there shaking his head a little stunned by her. “I love you.”

“Why? Cause I know useless stuff about Victorian homes?”

“No. But it’s pretty awesome that you do.”

She feels his cool skin as he kisses her. “Baby get in here… you’re freezing!” Monica opens the blanket for him. He gladly dives into her sizzling tent, but only for a few seconds before moving on. “No... come back,” she says.

“You already saw the bathroom,” he says, passing the tub she used this morning. “These are the closets.” He flings open a set of dark paneled doors in a passage between the master bedroom and bath to reveal closets every woman dreams of, organized and vast.

“Oh my... this is huge, especially in this city. Wow.”

“I know. Too much for just me,” he says, turning to the other side where an identical set of doors hides another nearly empty closet. She puts her hands to her face, amazed.

“Where are all your clothes?”

“They’re all here. I don’t have that much.”

They walk back through the parlor and bedroom apparently so Quinn can grab the flannel pants he dropped earlier and slip them on. Monica bites her lip as his delicious rear disappears from site. Down the long narrow hallway, she peeks into a guest bedroom and art studio before heading downstairs. He guides her into what was clearly another flat at some point and has been turned into one large home. An empty formal dining room, living room, and large kitchen mirror the marble and dark cabinetry of the master bathroom upstairs. The kitchen island is large, the porcelain apron sink is beautiful, and there’s still an amazing view of the Bay Bridge through the main window.

Her mouth is open with every new sight.
It’s perfection. The subzero isn’t too large to look commercial or out of place and this awesome range is like one of those chef models made to look vintag
e. “This alone costs a small fortune,” Monica says.

“Then we better cook a lot. Get our money’s worth.” She amuses him with a small laugh as he follows her towards the front bay windows. “I really didn’t know what to do in here. I figure this is a great place for talking with friends if they come over for dinner… well if the weather is too bad to be up on the deck.”

“It’s missing something very important right now though.”

Quinn’s brow furrows. “It’s missing everything right now.”

“No. Specifically…” She waits but sees him struggle to guess. “A Christmas tree.”

His whole posture softens and a gust of energy sweeps her off her feet with a spin in his arms. “We’ll have to go get one right now!” He starts up the stairs carrying her with a struggle. “I’m getting better at this, but don’t make me fling you over my shoulder again.”

“Put me down! You’re crazy. What about the rest of the house? Garage? Powder room? I’m sure there’s a powder room?”

In an effort not to drop her he keeps his focus on the stairs. “You’ll see the garage when we head out to get the tree… and you can stop in the powder room when we get back.”

“You better put me down before we tumble and break something.”

“We’ve gotta get dressed. Focus.”

“My clothes are dirty.”

“Is that why you were wearing my robe?”

He sets her on the landing at the top barely winded, but her face is completely red.
I love making her blush.
He takes her chin and gently strokes her bottom lip before moving down for a kiss. Their blissful cocoon is broken by the ringing of Monica’s phone. She sighs and shuffles away, dragging the comforter on the floor behind. She returns with the phone in hand, having missed the call.

“It was Robin,” she sounds sullen as reality starts to sink in. “Our flight’s at four thirty.”

Quinn shakes his head with disbelief. “You can’t leave. You just got here.” He wraps his arms around her again, making sure to inspect the curve of her hips carefully. “We have to go get a tree,” he says, sliding under the blanket to her warm skin.

“Not fair!”
Oh but he feels so good.

“Stay here,” he says.

“I have a job.”

His hands move up her back to her shoulders and with a swift tug he pulls the blanket off. Monica stands before him in the hallway, naked. The cold air from the stairwell makes her nipples perk as the chill travels south.

He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t let you leave.” His eyes are full of need and in nearly an instant he’s scooped her back into his arms and they are headed back to the bedroom.

She wraps her hands around his neck and shoulders, clawing at him as they kiss with a fever. The feeling of panic overwhelms as they hit the mattress devouring each other. Quinn’s left hand is planted behind her head as it was earlier, joining her to him. He pulls her thigh to his hip, pressing his erection through the thin flannel pants against her bare skin. His lips work their way along her neck and down behind her ear.

“Oh Quinn…” she moans.

“Stay with me,” he says.

She lost. His universe has consumed her again, and she doesn’t want to ever leave.
What kind of life would this be? How can this work? What would I do for a living? It’s all going too fast... again.
Quinn’s tongue gently licks just below her belly button as he plants firm, devouring kisses in a line down her body.

“Wait. You’re really not playing fair.”

“Oh, you haven’t really seen unfair. Shh.” He teases holding a finger before his lips. She watches as that finger slowly enters his mouth and then traces the outside of her sex.

“Oh, you’re evil,” she says, with a wicked grin full of enjoyment.

Quinn slowly winks as he enters her in a firm circling motion. Monica moans with delicious want and raises her hands above her head to grab a pillow. She drags one down to cover her face suddenly feeling shy as he works another finger in and circles her inside.

Another phone ringer starts to go off. It’s not Monica’s phone which was lost somewhere in the parlor before they hit the bed. This ring comes from the closet. Quinn ignores it as his tongue joins his fingers. His focus is clearly nowhere else. When it starts another series of rings Monica moves the pillow. He doesn’t look up at her and continues with a harder persistence which throws her back into the mattress.
Oh he doesn’t fight fair.
It’s obvious on the third set of rings that his voicemail picks up after the fourth ring.

“You should get that,” she says.

He removes his fingers and grabs her hips, taking control with his mouth.
So unfair!

The ring chimes again so he concedes with a frustrated little laugh. He gets up off the bed and walks to the valet cabinet in his closet where his phone is plugged in.

“Hi,” he says sweet and innocent.

It wasn’t the way he talked to his brother Jay or his agent Rick. Instantly Monica is intensely listening with curiosity.

“Yeah. I know. Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you there.” Quinn hangs up and walks back with sadness in his eyes.

“Who was that? Is everything okay?”

“No,” he says and hugs the post at the foot of the bed. “We’ve got to go. I gotta make sure you’re on that plane.”

“Was that Robin?” He doesn’t answer her and disappears into the closet.

Nothing could be said on the way to the airport that would have made parting hurt less. Quinn insists on parking and walking her to the security gate where Robin is waiting with “
pissed-off”
written all over her face.

“After everything... if we miss this flight... so help me,” Robin tightens her fist and stomps into the maze of stanchions. She pauses when she senses that Monica isn’t following and turns to glance at Quinn. There’s a nod and some unspoken conversation between them.

Monica looks at Quinn suspicious. “Have the two of you been talking a lot?” He tries to restrain a smirk, keeping quiet. “Sneaky.”

He reaches for her cheek and draws her in with seriousness. “Desperate.”

A familiar dread starts to pound in her chest even with Robin’s glare ten yards away. “I wasn’t expecting this. I feel like I have to make decisions and-”

“Stop. We have obligations and we have time, right?” It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself not to break down.

“Of course. I just need to take it slow. I’m not ready-”

“I know. Please don’t worry... I’m not going anywhere.”

His honesty makes her dive into his arms.
He’s so hard to let go. This is why I stayed away.
Her sight gets blurry, but she can still tell that Robin is about to scream. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you call me tonight when you get home?”

She smiles up at him trying desperately to keep her senses. “Okay.”

Quinn takes her lips gently with a brief kiss and then whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you,” she fires back, before grabbing her bag and turning to the security line. She fumbles for her ID and boarding pass trying to forget his presence, but after the long wait and obnoxious body scanner she looks back to confirm it’s all real. His smile and wave are so perfect she considers running back to him.

How can I leave him? Again? This is stupid.
She snaps out of it when she realizes Robin’s halfway across the airport. Monica catches up to her at the gate as the final boarding group is fighting to get past the scanner. Robin says nothing the entire flight which is unusual even when she’s pissed. The silent treatment continues in the car making Monica feel very alone.

The huge loft door slams shut as she drops her duffel bag and looks around the space that isn’t hers.
Quinn’s house felt more comfortable than this stupid place.
She frantically digs out her phone to search for his number.

“Hey sweetie. You home?” he asks.

“If you want to call it that.”

“How was the flight?”

“Robin isn’t speaking to me.”

“Really? That’s... I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure what to do. It’s a first with us.”

“Give her a few days.”

“Then grovel for forgiveness?” She flops into a chair that has no bounce and glances down towards her butt. “I’m gonna be kissin’ ass a lot I guess.”

“It’ll all be in the past before you know it. They’re your friends. They love you.”

“I think I’ve tested the limit on that.”

“You like to do that don’t you?” He laughs before they go silent.

Monica digs into the firm leather with her nails staring out at the Los Angeles skyline. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

They sit quiet for a while, swimming in separate thoughts. Monica finally breaks and changes subjects. “So how do you like San Francisco? I must have done my job, since you moved there.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna take credit for my move huh?”

“Of course.”

Quinn’s laughter brands a smile into her face. “I haven’t had a chance to see it as much as I would like.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been painting or traveling most of the time.” He starts to doodle her vague image on a notepad. “Plus, I didn’t have my guide here.”

What do I say to that?
Monica’s stomach twitches. “I loved showing you around. That trip was so great.”

“Until the end. I coulda done without that part.”

“I had to. Well, I thought did. I had to be straight with Alex and...”

“I know. I understand why. It was the right thing. Didn’t make it hurt less.”

“I can’t believe you got back and moved out before I got home. You just vanished. It made it feel so unreal.” They both get quiet again with only breathing streaming through the line. “Where did you go?” she asks.

“I drove for hours. Went to the beach and up through Malibu. By the time I needed gas I was back near Hollywood. I found a hotel and stayed until my show on Melrose.”

“I drove past it once. But I couldn’t go in.”

He closes his eyes tight. “I saw you in the valley one time... at a gas station.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I didn’t leave my room for a couple days after.”

They go quiet again sulking in their sad memories.

“This isn’t really helping my mood,” she says.

“Yeah. Me neither. You should get settled and get some sleep. You got work and all.”