December Rain (19 page)

Read December Rain Online

Authors: A. L. Goulden

Tags: #contemporary romance

BOOK: December Rain
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The steam melts the icicles that rim the gazebo, but since the temperature is dropping they’re refreezing into longer spikes. Quinn watches as drops hit the ground, and moves his hand to feel the icy water tap his hot skin. Monica can tell he’s dreaming up something. His brow creases and jaw tightens with a shifty glance her way.

“Take your suit off,” he says.

Monica looks around nervously. “You sure they can’t see us?”

“No one can see us out here I promise. It’s completely dark and cold...” He slides close and whispers into her ear, “I know it excites you that someone might see us anyway.”

He’s right. Always. Dammit.

“I promise no one in this house can see us. All their bedrooms are in the front... and they’re asleep. Take it off.”

She releases the straps of her black and white one piece suit as he settles into the opposite corner watching. She peels it to her torso releasing her breasts to the surface, and the chill of the night air makes them firm. Skinny dipping is not something she’s done much, but just being naked makes her feel instantly sexier.

Quinn gets close again and speaks with a deep tone. “Sit up here.” He taps on the edge of the jacuzzi.

Monica’s eyes were wide. “No way! It’s so cold out there.”

“You’ll warm back up in here. Just try it.”

The truth is she’s been feeling flush from overheating anyway, they’ve been in way too long. She sits on the edge of the tub, feeling a rush of relief as the cold air brings her boiling cheeks under control. Steam radiates from her entire body as she leans back on her palms. It feels like the first time she posed for him in August, and that sense of control in displaying her body for him returns. He moves between her legs and reaches for her wrists, lifting them to hook on the surrounding lattice.

“Hold on and don’t move your hands,” he says, releasing her.

She grips the cedar strips tight, feeling a painful splinter shove in, but doesn’t move. Frozen in the winter air she watches as he reaches to break off a large icicle from above.

Oh shit!

He turns to kneel between her legs again, and runs his tongue along the ice.

He’s so fucking hot!
She shifts her thighs a little around him.

Quinn leans forward and lunges his icy tongue inside her. It warms up quickly so he repeats the lick of the ice then her pussy. He alternates again and again as the icicle withers in his hands. Drops of the cold water run down her thigh as he gets her worked up.
I want to touch him so bad. What would he do if I just touched his head or his shoulders?
She hasn’t been naked in his arms since San Francisco, but every night she’s dreamt of it.

When the ice is nearly gone he climbs up to break off another larger icicle. He strokes it clean with his warm hands and places it along her lower lip. Monica extends her tongue to lick the tip slowly, bringing a devious smile to his face. He moves his steaming body close, and meets her tongue on the ice. Before she can grasp it, he drops both to her right breast to circle her areola. The burn is deep.

Monica’s breathing speeds as adrenaline pounds through her veins. The freezing water drips down her body before the ice trails south. The air is starting to get too cold to feel refreshing, so she holds her breath as he approaches her clit. His icy tongue and spear prickle, kicking off throbs before he even starts working his magic.

At least this time he stays put, swirling and shaking back and forth. Monica closes her eyes as her climax nears, and then she feels a thick stab of cold. Quinn slides the icicle inside as he counters it with his hot tongue. She’s full of fire and ice, the most intense mixture of pleasure and pain. She struggles to keep quiet as her orgasm rolls in and out. Luckily the ice melts fast and disappears in the numbness.

She’s covered in sweat despite the freezing air, panting like she just ran a race. Quinn reaches up to pry her hands from the lattice and pull her into his arms. When she immediately looks at the splinter, he feels awful. He removes the wood and wraps her finger around another stub of ice.

“I’m sorry sweetie. You should have said something. Are you okay?”

Are you fucking kidding?
“I think so,” she says dazed.

He pulls her back in the water to warm up with a protective embrace. She settles in and tries to recount what just happened, but feels woozy. “You ready to call it a night?” he asks.

She could only muster a nod.
He didn’t finish. I’m too tired to... oh my god.
“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

She barely notices when he lifts her over the edge and steadies her. He hands her a towel, and wrings out her wet bathing suit. His arms fling around as soon as his towel is secure, building friction like she’s a campfire and reviving her senses. He only lets go for a minute to throw the cover on and turn the heater off.

“Okay. Let’s go,” he whispers.

She takes his hand through the house and up the stairs. He flips the bedside lamp on and again wraps his arms around her.
His chest should be steaming. It’s so warm
. A little smile surfaces.

He notices. “Better huh?”

She nods trying to control her teeth chatter. “Much.”

“I can do better than this... electric blanket.” He points to the bed and removes her wet towel. “Get under there.”

“Awesome,” she whispers. The bed creaks loud but she ignores the nuisance.

Quinn pulls his wet towel off and slings both over the shower along with their suits. She can see chills covering his sculpted rear.
Even when he’s cold, he’s hot.
When he crawls under the blanket his skin feels icy. She wants to pull away having finally started to warm, but his eyes are irresistible. She runs her hands down his backside rippling over his goosebumps, feeling the body she’s missed for so long.

“You’re already so warm,” he whispers in a shiver.

“Thanks to you. That was wild.”

“It was stupid honey. I shouldn’t have done that... you could get sick. I wasn’t thinking about how-”

“Stop. Don’t ruin it. It was amazing.”

He looks at her surprised. “You were completely out of it. Near hypothermia.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” She laughs.

“Are you laughing at me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and pins her arms to the bed. “Were you messing with me? Faking?”

“No. I was spinning... but it passed.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes. I wasn’t expecting it for sure. It hurt.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. Like a sting or a burn. But then...your tongue felt so fuckin’ good.” Her sharp words spark his full lips to pry hers open. The kisses deliver as much heat as the blanket, and soon Monica sinks into another sweat.
I want to move my arms. I need to feel his body. Slide my hand between his cheeks... Oh...

Quinn’s lips brush down her neck. His tongue massages her lobe before he whispers, “I need to taste every inch of your body.”

“That’s not fair,” she says.

He stops and looks at her. “Why?”

“You haven’t let me taste you or touch you at all. My tongue is useless right now.”

He proves her wrong in one swoop. Their mouths twist and caress as he lets go of her arms. She wraps around him and holds tight. Quinn’s hands cradle her as the blanket slides off his body, but his skin’s too heated to notice. They ignore the loud squeaking mattress and wrap together like a pretzel. He enters slowly and for first time she feels his flesh glide with hers.

I forgot how much condoms suck. Oh my god, you feel so good.
The combination of his soft skin and firm length are perfect, and a new intimacy opens as they gaze in the other’s eyes. All the sting from earlier has passed, and there’s a tingle as she stretches around each swollen vein. He slowly explores inside the world he’s never known.

The gradual noise from the bed can be heard down the hall. It might even be heard in the basement, but they don’t care. No one in the house is able to ignore the passion building. Even Santa would blush. It’s enough to heat the sheets again for Jay and Megan and gross-out Amber who rocks some ear buds with her iPod. Eventually though, the house finds a peaceful Christmas sleep.

 

 

 

 

December 25th - Sunday

 

 

A light rain taps the glass on the bedroom window when Monica wakes on Christmas morning. Frank and Ellie arrive earlier than usual which everyone knows is because of Quinn and Monica’s presence. Bing Crosby plays in the background as each person sips cocoa or coffee while fishing through their stockings. There’s a happiness infecting the air as the family shares a morning like none other.

Jay hands out gifts to each person as he finds them under the tree. Monica’s surprised each time she’s handed a package having not expected or prepared to exchange gifts with the family. Jay and Megan got her a spa gift certificate and a book titled “Muses - Women Who Inspire” while Quinn’s parents gave her a large canvas and leather tote with the letter
M
filled with on-the-go art kits. It’s overwhelming. These personal, thoughtful gifts are like nothing she’s experienced before.

“Thank you so much. I don’t even know how y’all had time to do all this. It’s too much. I don’t know what to say.” Monica tries to not cry.

“Y’all? I like it Kansas.” Jay teases but gets quickly distracted by the new BrewMaster beer machine he’s unwrapping from his parents. “Y’all are gonna be drinking my beer, oh yeah!”

I’m so glad I could at least get a couple little gifts in town. I had no idea they’d do this much. I feel bad.
Monica watches as the ladies open a couple of beauty items and gift cards and then Jay and Frank relish nice bottles of bourbon. She’s more nervous about giving Quinn his gifts. It’s only been a week since they reunited and thinking of gifts on short notice is hard enough, but giving them in front of his family is even more stressful.

Quinn opens a travel collection of colognes from around the globe, all in carry-on sizes in fragrances from England to France to Japan. Then there’s two metal framed luggage tags with shrunken versions of Quinn’s paintings inserted into both sides. This one is clearly a craft project that she accomplished before leaving home.

“I want some of those for my luggage too,” Megan says.

“Yeah, you should have Rick get those mass printed and sell them,” Amber says.

Her next gift makes Quinn laugh at first and then after reading the tag his smile turns to a teary kiss.
She’s so thoughtful and wonderful. I’m so lucky.
The new pair of flip-flops are made by a charity group that sends all profits to provide art supplies to kids in L.A. public schools.

“Flip flops?” Megan asks. “You’re just rubbing it in aren’t you? We all have to stay here in the cold winter after you leave.” She pretends to be sad.

“This is the closest I come to shoes on most days, isn’t it?” Quinn says to Monica. “Well, at least it was in L.A.”

“I know it’s colder in San Francisco, but I figure on the roof...”

“They’re perfect. I had no idea this charity existed. I’m looking them up.”

“Wait, there’s one more.” She hands him the last gift before he reaches his cell phone.

The present is wrapped in brown paper and tied with raffia. He slips his fingers under the raffia and tears out a burnt orange leather bound sketchbook that she paid a fortune to customize and ship overnight before they left. When Quinn sees it he runs his fingers over the cover and blinks up at her with instant tears.

“You remembered. This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve...” He tries to get a hold of himself and ends up just crashing into her with a huge hug and kiss. “Thank you baby.”

“What is it?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, I wanna see,” Amber adds.

“It’s a sketchbook.” Quinn hands it to Jay so he doesn’t breakdown. Jay’s eyes get a little teary too as he smiles at Monica.

“What does it say?” Megan asks.

Ellie soon sidles up next to him to read the inscription on the cover. “I Spy Something Amazing.”

Everyone knows the reference is to the game Frank used to play with the boys when they were little. The sentimental memory of a time when the Matthews family was as joyful as today is apparently a fantastic gift; better than she thought it would be at least. When Frank gets his hands on it, even he breaks a misty smile.

“I really like this. That’s your signature isn’t son?” Frank asks Quinn.

“Yeah dad,” he says looking at Monica in awe, “that’s my signature. I don’t know how you had time to do that.”

She took a photo of Quinn’s signature and had it embossed on the cover below the silver printed title. Now she just had to pretend like it wasn’t difficult to get it done during the busiest time of the year.

Quinn reveals a pile of his own gifts to hand out near the other end of the sofa. He presents a box or bag to everyone else before slowly handing Monica one gift after another.

“You went overboard.”

“No. In fact I want to get something when we’re in Hawaii.”

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