December Rain (25 page)

Jack Johnson’s “Never Fade” serenades their arrival to a set of iron gates decorated with sea turtles and palm leaves. Quinn punches a code into a box to open them and slowly pulls in watching Monica’s amazed reaction. The driveway runs along a vast lawn of tightly matted golf-worthy grass shaded by monkey pod canopies and a huge banyan tree. Tropical flowers and fruit trees are everywhere.

Paradise.
It takes a minute for it to click. She looks back towards the mansion next door and vaguely recognizes his small house that was falling apart. It’s a quaint plantation style cottage, older and less extravagant than the other homes on the strand. What it does have is a private beach flanked by lava rock and wild greens.

Monica’s mouth is open, but nothing comes out at first. She finally musters up, “Wow,” before the Jeep comes to a stop. “Oh my god Quinn. This is amazing. This must cost a fortune. Seriously. How...?” She stares in awe at the ocean. “I don’t understand.”

“Okay... stay calm. This didn’t look like this a few months ago.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was a real shit-hole.” She doesn’t want to let on that she took notice of it, fearing the conversation would turn sad.

“Ha. The guy who lives next to us in San Francisco mentioned his brother was going to lose his house in a foreclosure so I looked into it.” He steps out of the Jeep as she moseys out of the carport. “Their grandparents used to be the only ones who lived way out here. There weren’t many houses down here that didn’t get torn down. I knew I’d be the only one to save it, so I pleaded my case to the bank and the family. It was tricky being a haole.”

“I love that it’s not a McMansion. It’s authentic.”

“Me too. I wouldn’t have tried if it were like that contractor’s special next door.” He beams with pride looking back at it. “I knew it was right when I saw it. All overgrown and falling apart. I’ll show you photos. It was gross.”

She takes a deep breath and steps across the yard. Quinn grabs the suitcases and drops them inside a glass side door while she wanders on a path to the ocean. The water is so clear she can see clumps of colorful coral to the left. Quinn’s arms slide around, weaving his fingers through hers.

“I want to actually finish the tour this time. We’ll come back before the sun sets,” he says, planting a light kiss to her temple. She lets him pull her towards a covered deck that stretches across the length of the house where large glass doors slide in a series of tracks.

Monica runs her hand along the rich wooden frames. “These look new?”

“Yeah. There was a porch here but it was falling down. The wood was so rotten and termite infested we had to tear out all the windows and doors. I love having this side of the house open though.”

“I know. It’s what makes it feel so Hawaiian.” She steps inside and gasps. “I love the beams!” The exposed natural wood ceiling and beams span the entire living area, distracting her from the chair she crashes into.

Quinn laughs and steers her around in his arms. “I thought you’d like that. Someone had painted everything white, but it wasn’t white anymore. It was nasty.”

She nods taking it all in. “So you stripped the paint, added the doors, and stained everything to match?”

She’s so quick.
“Yeah. The floors were actually in great shape once I pulled up the old linoleum.”

“It’s so warm and cozy. I love it! Most people just put tile throughout, but I’m not really a fan. I get the sandy feet thing, but it’s not pretty.”

She’s so adorable.
“Gotta have pretty floors.”
He laughs when she gives him playful warning for the sarcasm.

They continue through a remodeled kitchen, then down a hallway past a room with an easel and swivel stool that face the ocean. Quinn leads her into the master bedroom with a raised ceiling over a king sized sleigh bed. The old casement windows and crisp white paneled walls have a traditional plantation charm, but one entire wall opens to the ocean view and deck giving it a modern twist.

Monica ran her fingers along the footboard. “Big bed.”

Quinn’s lips sink into her neck and grip her hips firmly. “It’s been too big.”

She turns and places her hand on his cheek. “This is amazing.”

“I know. Less than six months ago I was living in Rebecca’s attic! It’s a little crazy right?”

“It feels like you won the lottery or something.”

“I did.” He smiles and kisses her.

Ha ha
. She looks back at the ocean and walks onto the deck. “I’m still just trying to wrap my head around it. How many paintings have you done? Sold?”

“Well both California shows sold out and then the work I had in New York started selling. There were prints done for the Melrose show... books and keepsakes. Those sold like crazy. Rick says it’s common with the new “it” artists. People want to get in early and grab as much as they can. It wasn’t until Thanksgiving that the gallery here made a deal to sell my work.”
Don’t bring up Thanksgiving right now.
“I don’t expect it to continue like this. I’m just the new shiny toy.”

She stares at him.
He didn’t really answer me.

“Why does it matter? I’ve sold a lot,” he says fidgeting.
She’s so suspicious, I should just tell her now
. Her eyes drop as she turns, and steps down onto the path back towards the beach. Quinn follows a few feet behind, lingering before stepping down to the sand.

“I just feel like I’m in a dream. These are all the places I love.” She looks into his eyes that glow in the approaching sunset. “You took my spots.”

“
You
are my dream. I needed to feel like you were with me. Like I could have a part of you if I was in a place that made you happy. I never thought I’d get a chance to see you again.” He moves closer and reaches to caress her check. Her peach soft skin melts in his touch. “I felt like I was grieving.”

Before she can process his emotion he falls in to her lips with fervent desire. She folds her arms around his waist, sliding her fingers under the tail of his shirt to stroke those divots in the small of his back. His flesh is so warm and soft, but his lips trailing down her neck draw a chill with each suckle, making her limp in his arms. The mix of tropical flowers and sea salt intoxicate her senses. It’s easy to be drunk on his love, to drink him in again and again.

The straps of her sun-dress slip in his twisting fingers, falling to her waist. The breeze tickles her breasts as his hands slide across her bare back. Quinn guides her to the steps where they can nestle into a cove of warm sand. He flings his shirt onto a nearby rock, quickly followed by his shorts and sits back on them. He lifts her dress and pulls her onto his lap so his erection can tease through her moist panties. With a firm grip on her behind, his entrance is a swift surprise, bypassing the thin cotton shield. Right there on the beach she is completely full of his heat. Rocking back and forth, he tilts her back to drift down her cleavage with his tongue. He digs his fingers into her hair, releasing her bun.

She felt so free, like clay in his hands. Unlike earlier, they weren’t frenzied with lust, but now they move at an island pace, slow and steady. The heat of the moment doesn’t present an exhibition of danger, just lovers caught up in the romance, forgetting all common sense or reason. He loves the way her long chocolate brown hair sweeps across her breasts, taunting him to feel their plumpness. She coaxes his lips to caress her pale pink nipples, throbbing with each lick.

When her muscles tighten and clench around his length, she stops moving. He looks into her eyes, and draws her upright with his lips. She feels his cock swell deep inside. In his oceany gaze is a trust she’s never known with anyone else. She gives everything to him and kneads into him with pious desire. The delicious friction of his soft skin as she grinds harder is a selfish indulgence to her quivering climax.

There’s nothing more beautiful than watching her accept pleasure, but Quinn’s near the limit of his own self-control. He doesn’t want to finish here, so he digs his fingers deep into her round hips to stop her. It’s slightly painful, but snaps her back to a flush reality. He manages a slight smile with heated eyes and lightens his grip. A moment of modesty strikes and she pulls the top of her dress over her bare breasts. He has other ideas and sweeps her into his arms carrying her back up through the yard, totally naked. She lets out a scream of laughter that would draw neighborly attention if there were any to be had.

The laughing stops by the time they make it near the bed in their room. Quinn lays her down softly as the waves outside crash gently in rhythm. When his hands lift her dress and his tongue slowly glides up her inner thigh she jumps from lingering sensitivity. He reaches her sex and blows lightly on her wetness, making her nipples spring. She drops her head, loving his playful torment. His tongue slowly drops in for a taste and swirls gently with a delightful pulse.

“I need you back inside.” She reaches for his head, but he resists and picks up pace. Her breathing speeds and she can feel it coming. He knows it’s there too and flutters his full lips making her lose control. There’s a rush of wetness and a gasping moan.

While she still grasps for breath, he climbs on top and steers deep inside. He stops to run his lips across hers before pressing with urgent need over and over. Like an animal he releases himself without regard or politeness. It’s fucking hot. Primitive. Necessary. His warm come fills her and she’s reminded just how intimate their new connection has become.

“I love you so much,” he mutters.

They lie there on top of the comforter, disheveled and spent for a few minutes reveling in the pleasure. Reluctantly he lifts out of her to rest at her side. Instinctively she reaches for his fading erection to smooth her fingers in his warm come.

“You’ve ruined me,” he says.

“I think that’s the other way around.” She traces his bottom lip with her thumb. “These control me. Unfairly.”

His intense stare returns. His mouth opens and gently licks her thumb before taking it completely into his mouth. She tingles. He rises above her, and slides his salty tongue along her upper lip. The slow dance continues across her lower lip.

“You don’t seem to really mind,” he says.

He’s right. I love it!

He nudges her nose a little as a smirk takes over.
I love this woman, with her pink cheeks.

Monica scans his face.
Those little laugh lines are so sexy! And dimples. That scruff so hot.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go grab some dinner. I want you to meet my friend Maka.”

“We’re having dinner with a friend?”

“Not exactly. He’s a chef. Everything he makes is amazing. Told him I’d bring you by.”

“Oh. Awesome! I’m glad you made friends here at least.”

“It’s a little easier here I think. People are a little more open and friendly.”

“They’re the same in San Francisco too. It’s just a little harder in the winter. Once the street festivals start and everyone’s outside... you’ll meet all kinds of great people.” She starts to stand, but feels a little dizzy.

“Easy. Jet-lag city remember? We’ll make it a quick dinner,” he says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’ll get back here and sleep.”

Quinn walks into the bathroom to turn on the shower. Monica forgot how confident he moves. There’s no consciousness of his nudity, or his sexuality. He has a natural ease with his body that she loves to watch. In contrast there are still moments when she feels completely shy by her exposure. This was one of those moments. She holds the top of her dress up walking down the hallway where her suitcase is. As she bends down to pull the handle Quinn’s arm intercepts and snatches it.

“I’ll get that. Go get in the shower.” He moves close to her face, “Without the dress.” He winks and plants a quick kiss before moving to grab his bag too.

Monica scurries into the bathroom and ditches the filthy dress. She steps her toes onto the stone pebble floor that covers the huge shower and seat. The rain shower head is gentle and warm, reminding her of their airport tryst lost somewhere in space and time.

The outside wall of the shower is glass from floor to ceiling with a view of a matching stone pebble patio outside. It’s partially surrounded by a wooden screen that opens to a private garden and the ocean view. Quinn steps in behind and reaches for the glass. A small notch in the corner clicks when he presses and the glass slides, tucking into the wall.

“Oh my god! That’s so cool!” she says.

“Right? It was my favorite feature. I had to have it. This whole bathroom was nasty and I always wanted an outdoor shower.” He points to another shower head outside.

“How’d I miss that?” she says.

“It’s perfect when you come in from the beach. Keeps sand off the floors.”

“Unlike what I we just did... probably got sand all over your bed.”

“
Our
bed, and only on top. We’ll be alright.” He smiles and starts running his fingers through her hair under the water.

They wash each other with familiarity and love, but both are too tired to drag it out. She’s surprised how the breeze relaxes her until she turns to face him and a rush of modesty returns.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asks.