| Fan Fiction |
by Eli =)
Gerald spent the rest of the weekend holed up in the inn, except for the walks at the beach he took trying to distract himself from thinking too much of Kim. The clear skies had turned stormy and suited his mood exactly. He sat down on Sunday night and composed his note for her.
Late Monday morning Gerald carried his easel and supplies down to the beach and was soon raptly enjoying his first attempt at painting. But he paused the second that Kim returned. It was all he could do to restrain himself while he listened to the car door slam and watched covertly as she pushed the loaded luggage across to the inn. Painting furiously, he had imagined her entering their room. She should be inside now. She saw the note. She was reading it. She was running back down the path into his arms.
Idiot! he thought. She was probably rereading his words, trying, just as he had, to read the lines. He wasn't even sure if what he wrote was legible or made any sense at all. Maybe she was frowning as she was trying to figure out what he was saying. She was probably walking over to the window, thinking.
His conjecture about her actions was almost identical to Kim's actual movement and thoughts. She reread his note smiling, which had been attached with a white water lily to the bed post.
"Kim," it began simply. "I hated waking up alone. It was another first for me. And I'm grateful for our times together. It has been like therapy, with your soothing tender touch. My angel of mercy, my sweet Kimmy. With the short time we have been together, it has been a glimpse of heaven! And I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you. You'll find me at the beach, trying my hand at painting. Come over. It's no fun without you. Love, Ge."
It seemed like an eternity before he saw her skipping merrily down to him. She looked happy. He stood next to his easel, staring out of the corner of his eye, watching as she made her way. He turned abruptly and began to paint again, wishing he had eyes in the back of his head.
Paint, man! he ordered himself. Don't look at her. Don't let her know you know she's coming. He tried not to think of how beautiful she looked with her hair blowing in the breeze.
He painted feverishly, splattering paint from his brush like a puppy shaking water from his coat. But his ears were entirely attuned to Kim's approach. He could hear every step she took.
"Mr. Van Gogh, I presume?"
He squeezed his eyes shut and put a death grip on his brush to still his trembling hand. It has been the longest three days of his life. Then he took a deep breath and turned to look at her with a boyish grin, glad she couldn't hear his heart hammering in his chest. "Nope. Both ears are still intact." He realized she was grinning back at him. "Hi, welcome home."
How sweet his simple greeting sounded to Kim's ears. She blinked rapidly and found her voice. "Thanks, I'm glad to be back. It was a long three days."
"Did you get everything you needed?"
"Yes. It was just.....long," she hedged, shrugging helplessly. Glancing past his shoulders, she saw his painting and gasped audibly. "A bit messy aren't we?" She giggled, looking him over with a measuring eye.
"Me? Messy? No way. I'm very neat," he said. "I told you I don't get messy."
Stepping back to examine his speckled clothing and skin, she made a solemn observation. "I think it's a little too late for messy. You're heading straight toward disaster!"
He began chasing her, she joined in the fun by screaming and shouting for mercy as she scampered over the beach. He ran in hot pursuit, bringing her to the ground, straddling her body and pinning her between his legs.
"Oh, no, you don't," he said with a grunt.
Kim stopped struggling instantly. Gasping for air, she whispered. "What are you going to do?"
He leaned forward and kissed her lips chastely, tenderly. His chest barely brushed her heaving chest, but the feather-light touch burned into her flesh. She began to encourage his kiss, but he pulled away and sat up again. "I'm so glad you're back. I missed you."
"I missed you, too, Ge."
Their eyes dueled in smoky battle. Her heart was hoping for another kiss and she unconsciously moistened her lips in anticipation. But he had other ideas. He picked up his discarded palette and brush. Then he chuckled happily and began to dab at the yellow paint. "I just can't pass this up," he said. "It would be a missed opportunity." His eyes sparkled devilishly. "I can't wait!"
She began to squeal and started to bump him up and down on her hips, trying to wiggle free.
"Watch it," he warned with narrowed glinting eyes. "You don't want me messing this up."
Chastened, Kim stopped struggling once more, and Gerald bent to his tickling task-painting a squiggly, over-sized handlebar mustache beneath her twitching nose. He leaned back and admired his artwork. "Beautiful!"
"I have to say, don't you think it would look better on you?" she lamented theatrically.
"You're right," he agreed, and kissed her firmly, squarely on her mouth, rolling his head from side to side as she snickered against his lips. When he lifted his head he had a perfect replica of his artwork over his leering grin. "Now, my lovely," he said, sounding just like the villains in an old-fashioned melodrama. "I'm going to have my way with you. I'll nibble your neck, I'll gnaw on your ears, I'll suck on your lower lip.....and then we'll have some real fun!"
Laughing helplessly, she begged him to release her. "Let me up, Ge. Please."
But he just shook his head. "Nope, I've got this thing about painting a living canvas....and you're it!" He pulled at her shirt until he'd released it from her shorts.
"No." She lay stiff beneath him, then tried to buck him off again.
"Relax," he retorted in exasperation. "I'm only after your delectable tummy."
Sensing she had no choice, Kim lay docilely between his knees while he concentrated on his picture. She tried to keep from giggling as the paintbrush bristles tickled around her exposed navel. When she lifted her head to see what he was doing, she smiled. He was painting a daisy with each petal a different color as it circled her belly button.
But when he pulled at the snap on her shorts, she squealed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm making room for my daisy stem," he answered innocently.
"No way, mister!"
"But I'm an artist," he rationalized, still tugging at the snap.
"No. Now leave my snap alone."
Grumbling like a disappointed two-year old, Gerald painted a short green stem and two misshapen leaves. "A short-stemmed daisy. Whoever heard of a daisy with a short stem," he fumed.
"It's a dwarf daisy," she said soothingly.
"It's not nearly as much fun." Seductively, he ran the wooden tip of the brush handle along her hip-line. He offered his best smile and looked hopefully into her wide, suspicious eyes. "We could wash it off and do it again. What do you say?"
"I say that's enough painting for one day, Mr. Anderson," she said giggling.
"Okay fine, let's go get you unpacked. The day is still young, let's go exploring. And by the way I've eaten enough solitary meals, so it would be nice to be accompanied by my beautiful future wife for dinner."
She nodded her acceptance. In truth, he had convinced her three sentences back.
Their plans for the day had already been made. They drove twenty miles to the Water Mill, which had been fully restored. They were climbing about on the twin waterwheels that lay on their sides in the rushing stream.
"I never saw waterwheels that weren't standing upright," Gerald said, helping Kim up out of the wheel room.
"I guess they figured they'd get more power from the water that way," she reasoned. "That, or the mill was built by a falling-down drunk."
Gerald took her in his arms and hugged her close to his heart. Kim reveled in the feel of his strong arms around her tingling body. Nibbling at her ear, his warm mouth sent shivers of delight coursing through her limbs. "If there was anyone like you around that time, I can well imagine his dilemma. I get drunk just looking at you."
His lips were gentle when they touched hers, but the sparks of passion were there just the same. She stood quietly in the circle of his arms, feeling her knees grow weak as she leaned against him. With exquisite tenderness he traced her mouth, placing tiny kisses along her trembling lower lip.
A moan escaped from the back of her throat, and with no more warning than that she opened her mouth to his foraging tongue and pulled it deep inside. Dimly, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she heard Gerald's groan of relief. His hands began to roam along her spine as the kiss deepened, and he encouraged her involvement. Pulling her into his stance while his breath heated her skin. Her hands were not idle. They were rediscovering the hard muscles of his chest and, of their own volition, were trying to unbutton his shirt so they could slide over his naked skin. Heedless of where they were, the two pursued their desire, rushing like a swift river into a whirlpool of passion.
Suddenly, clambering down the steps from the floor above, an entire troop of eleven-year olds wrestled their way into the room. The impassioned pair tore themselves from their embrace and stood, red-faced and breathless, as the Boy Scouts formed a snickering circle around them.
"Caught ya!" crowed a freckled-faced boy.
"Hey, mister, don't you know this is a public place?" chimed a scrawny redhead.
"She really turned you on, huh, mister?" asked the third little boy with a knowing leer.
Unable to keep from laughing at the predicament they found themselves in, Gerald turned to the Scouts and grinned helplessly, pulling a blushing Kim to his side with one strong arm and lifting his other hand in a gesture of defeat. "What can I say, guys? It won't be too long before some sweet girl will turn you inside out too!" he predicted, then led Kim up the stairs.
Before she could say a word she and Gerald overheard the troop leader yelling at the boys. "What's been going on down here?"
"Nothing, Mr. Lee," whined an innocent boy.
"We were just talking to the nice couple, Mr. Lee," volunteered the redhead.
Upstairs the two could hear his loud "hmph," and they looked at each other and burst into laughter, leaning against the wall for support.
"Those little monsters!" Gerald wheezed between tearful chuckles. "Are little girls like that too?"
"Yeah," Kim said with a giggle, "but usually boys don't start that stuff until they're a couple of years older. Maybe we should have just stayed in today."
Back at home they lingered through the beach. Gerald kissed Kim several times, and Kim did her share of touching and caressing. The fury of the storm broke over them. Even the great drops of rain splashing down during their ardent embrace did nothing to extinguish the heat of their rising passion. If anything, the crashing thunder and blinding blades of lightning added an elemental savagery to their kisses. Somehow they found the strength to tear their lips apart. But still they clung, then running, almost as one person, to the shelter of the inn. Inside, Gerald slid shut the door and leaned against the wall. They continued clutching hands, going up to their room, unwilling to break their connection for even a second. When he pulled her against him in a rib-crushing embrace, Kim thought her world had never seemed so complete.
He kissed her throat with moist warm lips. "I missed you so. I love you."
"Mmmm, let's see if I can find a way to prove to you that I'm really back." She looked into his dreamy features, watching the lightning flashes reflect in his smoky gaze. "I love you too."
He traced her body with his long-fingered hands, touching her, and a little moan of pleasure slipped from between her parted lips. "That doesn't prove a thing, Kim. I've been conjuring your touch night after night. It feels the same." There was flirtatious lilt to his voice.
Kim made no response to his verbal goading. She had realized almost at once that that this was his way of welcoming her back into his arms. She was home again; she could afford the time to play out their little game of love. He rubbed his hands along her spine, massaging and kneading the flesh of her hips and buttocks. Feverishly, they tore their clothes off. When their nude bodies touched, they both moaned in relief.
Words ceased to be important when they kissed. Gerald's yearning tongue slipped between Kim's lips. The banked fires of their enforced separation became a blistering inferno as passion consumed them like dried meadow grasses being thrown into a gigantic bonfire. Their hoarse cries were swallowed up in the fury of the storm. The wind and the rain pounded the glass wall, but the power of the natural elements reached into the protected shelter and raged, withing their straining bodies as Kim and Gerald weathered the final fury. Simultaneously they shuddered within a tight embrace while the walls vibrated with the unleashed power of the storm. A white hot crack of lightning ripped a clamorous groan from the rain-whipped wind. Tremendous thunderclaps drowned out their words; no one could hear the triumphant celebration within their thrusting bodies. Damp and exhausted, they waited for the storm to pass. Then all was still and they slept wrapped in a love-knot of happiness.