December Rain (33 page)

The air at their table starts reaching levels equal to the staff. Blondie occasionally fondles either man under the table while they themselves share kisses behind her neck from time to time. They’re all part of the show now, unlike Diane. She’s the only person immune to sexual attention from the staff, probably because she refers to them as if her pets. They make sure she’s well taken care of, but no one dares touch as part of the entertainment.

It was almost eleven by the pre-dessert course, a concept Monica had never heard of.
An appetizer for dessert? Brilliant!

Three waitresses line up again in front of the fireplace and take an open leg stance with their arms behind their backs. Fiery Red Feathers is frozen in the middle. The muscular black man from the caviar serving paces around them, touching various areas on their bodies as he passes. He slides up behind the red head on the end whose very long hair is in a thick French braid. He tugs on the satin ribbon holding it and works her waves loose until they drape forward. He unhooks her bra and slowly peels it off. Her hair covers most of the pink flesh now pressed with a lace pattern.

He moves to the woman on the opposite end and uses her pony tail to push her forward, bending her ass to his crotch. He squeezes her cheeks and lifts her hem to kneed her crease with his thumbs. With a clamped jaw, he tugs on her zipper and the skirt falls free of the apron still tied on. Her g-string is hidden under the enormous hands that caress and squeeze tight. Once her flesh is bright pink he stops and pulls her upright again. Both woman stand on display.

He moves to the woman in the fiery red mask and kisses her neck. The feathers sway as she leans back into his arms. His moves are faster as her skirt quickly falls and his large fingers work under her apron. She guides his other hand inside her cleavage while his tongue runs across her shoulder. She unhooks her bra, now fully exposed, and grinds against his very visible erection still trapped inside the trousers. He picks her up as the other two waitresses pull him towards the bedroom.

The applause this time are quite loud as the room now has a lusty buzz from the wine. One man even stands to praise their steam with his own bulging trousers as testament. Quinn exhales into his wine glass when Monica finds his package rock hard as well. Diane pretends not to notice and starts waving at someone across the room. She excuses herself and heads to another table.

The ballerina looks at the Russian and says, “We’re not leaving until I get fucked proper.”

Monica tries not to choke on the poached pear Quinn just fed her and tries to serve him. He moans with delicious delight. “Wow, I have to know how to make these.” She offers a second bite, but teases it away. “You’d make me beg?” he asks. “I can. I will.” His hand glides up her thigh where his fingers crawl inside her drenched lace.

She lets out a small whimper, but tries to get control to avoid attention. He circles gently inside making the spoon move closer and closer to his lips.
Can I just lie on the table right here? Oh fuck that feels so good!
The intensity grows to a point where she no longer cares who sees them. He withdraws his finger as the pear slides along his tongue. He swipes the remaining sauce from her plate with those fingers and buries them in his mouth with a sound of pleasure.

“Someone likes his fruit,” Mr. V-neck says.

Monica can see Quinn’s oceany eyes spiraling with want so she claims his delicious lips as hers. The kiss grows frantic as she starts to move, fully planning to crawl into his lap.

“Are you enjoying everything so far?” Chef Hedlund asks from behind. Monica reaches for her water.

“It has all been amazing. You are an artist my friend.” Quinn reaches his dry clean hand for a shake. “Thank you.”

“It’s too good,” Monica says. “Everything... I keep getting swept away.”
Great words. Now everyone knows you’re drunk.

“That is exactly my intention. I’m so happy. And are you folks fulfilled?” he asks the threesome.

“Not yet, but soon,” the blonde says with a wink.

“I’m so glad you put us with our own private entertainment,” Mr. V-neck says, referring to Quinn and Monica.

“I assure you they’re first time guests like yourselves, they’re just sexy enough to blend in.” He winks and moves to the next table.

The room is spinning for Monica when Diane finds her way back to sit down. “How much time do I have before the dessert course?” she asks. “I need to find the ladies room.”

“You have another ten minutes probably. Plenty of time dear.” She waves her enormous diamond and points. “Continue past the bedroom and dressing closet. It’s on your right.”

The “bedroom” is nearly the same size as the main loft with three arched windows and multiple beds. They vary in size and style, but all have headboards and footboards. Even empty you can feel the presence of hot sweaty sex in the air. Quinn’s grip on her hand tightens entering the next space where three women primp in the massive walk-in closet filled with mirrors, clothes racks, and shelves of shoes.

The pre-dessert entertainers are not shy about still being naked, and smile as they direct them past tall black curtains. There’s no men’s or women’s restrooms, just two water closets, two urinals, and a long wall of shower heads under a sea of dim can lights. In the far corner is a hot tub where the large black waiter soaks with his eyes closed. He smiles as their shoes echo on entry.

After they finish and wash their hands Quinn leads them back tugging each footboard as they pass.
That must be his thing. Maybe we stay in here and I get him out of that dress shirt.
“We could stay,” she says.

Quinn stops and turns looking conflicted.
We could, but she might freak out tomorrow and this will all be ruined. No. She’s just worked up and tipsy.
“Why don’t we have dessert and then see how you feel?”

“You sound like those people... and they’ll all be in here after dessert. I want you to myself.” They’re interrupted when Tracy and Derrick come in.

“Hey guys!” Tracy says. “I wanted to show Derrick this room. I saw it earlier when I went to the bathroom. I’ve never seen a room with multiple beds like this.” Derrick presses his body against her backside and walks her across the room. He places her hands on a footboard and gives her butt a little spank. She jumps with a playful laugh and stumbles off balance.

She’s obviously had a lot to drink. They both have.
Quinn reaches for Monica’s hand to leave.

“Wait!” Tracy calls out. “Don’t leave.”

Quinn nostrils flare, a little irritated, and looks to Monica for her move.

“You can stay for four minutes.” Tracy holds up her fingers. “That’s how long we have until the next show, right? Wasn’t that what the lady said?” She looks to Derrick for confirmation.

Quinn looks at his watch, and inhales deep. “Four minutes.” He and Monica move closer and stand awkwardly.

“Surely they change these sheets a lot right?” Tracy asks.

“Of course baby,” Derrick says. “Look how tight they tuck their corners.”

“Oh, I should inspect them,” she jokes and stretches across the bed to look.

Monica sees that Quinn isn’t amused so she unbuttons his top button and feels the heat of his chest with her fingertips. His lips brush against hers and then suckle a fervent kiss. She unbuttons the next one slowly reaching to feel his pounding heart. By the time she makes it to the third button his erection is nearly tearing his seams.

A beeping startles everyone. Quinn looks down and says, “Four minutes. We gotta go.”

Oh cruel world... how unfair!
Monica doesn’t fight him though, she wants to see the dessert too. She turns to wave and catches Derrick between Tracey’s breasts. His strange exaggerated facial expression is about as sexy as a fake soft-core movie.

They settle into their chairs feeling several eyes watching. Quinn realizes his shirt is still unbuttoned and starts to close it.

“No. Please don’t,” Diane says. “I want to see that tattoo.”

“So do I,” Mr. V-Neck says.

“I think we all do,” the blonde chimes in.

Quinn looks at Monica to do the honors and it feels like the whole room is waiting and watching. Monica leisurely untucks his shirt and releases the last few buttons while his eyes stay focused on her. She slides her hands up his abdomen and chest to round the corners of his firm shoulders and slips his shirt off. There’s a murmur amongst the room as everyone struggles to see his tattoo from their seats. Monica folds his shirt in half over the back of his chair and sits in the light applause.

“It’s beautiful.” Diane says. “Just like your work. Richard and I would love to commission a piece from you for our home.” She motions to the loft.

Quinn nods taking his seat. “We’ll have to talk more about that. I can’t accept any commissions until after my Tokyo show this April though.”

“Tokyo!” she says. “I love Tokyo! Maybe we’ll just have to buy one of the pieces from that show instead.

A waiter and waitress enter the room and walk over to a reclaimed wood bench near the windows. The man lies down in its cradling shape and the woman crawls on top. The show is more of the same steamy foreplay, but it pales in comparison to the vanilla panna cotta with balsamic strawberries.

“I’ve never loved vanilla this much.” Monica giggles. Quinn smiles and kisses her cheek. “What was that?”

“I’m just,” he pauses trying to control his words, “I’m so happy to be with you again.” He wraps his bare arms around her with a loving kiss that promises to not let go.

“Alright folks, only ten minutes left until the big moment!” Chef Hedlund announces. Every staff member is pouring champagne in preparation for the countdown. “I want to thank you all so much for choosing to be here for this little soiree to celebrate 2015. Wow, can you believe it?” he says to Diane. “I have to thank the most beautiful woman in this room, sorry ladies, my wife Diane.” The room erupts in clapping and clanking of cutlery on glasses. “Without you my darling, my life would be forever empty and forever hard.” He gestures below briefly.

That’s, gross.
Monica fakes a laugh with the crowd.

“And to our new friends, I hope we’ve satisfied your appetites. If not, let me know. We hope you’ll consider joining us again, our intermediate dinners are sure to tantalize and surprise. On that note, I say... salute!”

The room explodes with applause, cheers, and whistles as the countdown excitement clings to the horny and intoxicated. “Ten, nine, eight, seven-”

Monica looks at Quinn’s happy, misty eyes and her heart sinks for Alex.
This is the last place I thought I’d be a year ago. I can’t believe... oh Alex... I... said forever and then... I... Is he alone?

“Two, One, Happy New Year!” The crowd cheers as the staff releases confetti poppers into the air.

“Happy New Year my love.” He kisses her before she can say a word, before tears fall for the wrong reasons, or even the right ones. His hands erase the apprehension and fear, assurance that they are meant to be together. When he pulls from her lips he says, “I don’t want to stay. When the car gets here, I want to take you home. Our home.”

The word home is like a comfortable blanket or flannel pajamas that wrap around her instead of the stiff corset pressing into her ribs. The party suddenly feels different and she’s very ready to leave. The music volume grows and guests begin to dance in the center of the room as confetti poppers and horns celebrate.

Quinn pulls her into his version of a waltz and asks, “How about dance classes this year?”

“Huh? Sure, that would be fun. Can we do swing dancing though? I don’t think I can be around those ballroom people.”

He laughs, “If you think that’s a better crowd for us, I’m all for it.”

“May we cut in?” Diane asks, waiting with Richard, who’s no longer in his white smock.

They politely swap with only moments before the song ends. Quinn looks at his watch. “Our car is probably here.”

“Oh, you two aren’t leaving are you?” Richard asks.

“I’m afraid so. I have to leave for Los Angeles in a few hours,” Quinn says. “I’m afraid I’m not as young as I used to be and need a few hours sleep.”

“You have to be somewhere on New Year’s Day?” Diane asks.

“I’m an honoree in the Rose Parade if you can believe it?”

“Oh my! What a wonderful experience. Once in a lifetime,” Diane says.

“You can’t pass that one up,” Richard adds.

“Thank you so much for a wonderful evening. We’ll be in touch.” Quinn starts to lead Monica towards escape.

Richard reaches for his arm and says, “You’re always welcome here, even without an event. I’ll cook for just us some night and we can actually sit and talk.”

Talk? Yeah right. His food was really amazing though. Might be worth putting up with their kinky weirdness.
Monica smiles at Quinn who’s anxious to leave.

“There’s so many things to discuss. Darling, he has a show in Tokyo this April.”

“Tokyo? We love Tokyo!” Richard looks down at Diane nested in his arms. “Let’s let them get home and we’ll talk their ears off another night.” She nudges him back on track and leads him towards the bedroom crowd.