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I couldn’t catch my breath; he was gorgeous. He was looming over me - physically and in every aspect that had ever existed. He was watching me intently, his lips were moving except I hadn’t listened to a word he'd said. His jaw was sprinkled with graying stubble and all I could think about was sitting on his face. He was truly gorgeous, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat.

He’s old enough to be your father

Jesus Christ, the blasphemy crossed my mind every time I focused on his mouth, his chin, his jaw. I could not meet his eyes, not again - I thought I might actually explode, deliciously. Instead, I noticed how his left dimple popped in ever so slightly every time a sound escaped from his mouth.

He was wearing light brown leather shiny shoes, navy flannel pants and a light blue and white pinstriped shirt with the sleeves rolled back. He looked nautical. Why was he dressed like that at the beach? Then I realized people actually had daily jobs.

Yeah, the father of your children.

His lips, my God, I wanted to know what it felt like to have him drag his mouth along my calf, his fingers on my hips, his tongue in my-

“Are you alright, Miss?”

His voice was rich, smooth and very masculine. He stood there, his hands in his pockets and his mouth in a soft line. I had never appreciated tattoos much, but this man looked like he and his ink were made for each other.

I felt my neck become hot. “Oh, yes, thank you, Mr. uh...?”

He smiled, probably mocking me. “Mulch, Jason Mulch.”

“Pleasure, December Elwood,” I stretched out my hand. “I’m in the house right next door.”

His hands were calloused and sweaty and I wanted to feel them all over me. I wanted to know what the print of his hand looked like on my ass.

“Oh, yes, I am aware, it’s not often we get new neighbors around here.”

I looked at my pink toes in the sand. “I’m just house-sitting for the season.”

“Ms. Elwood, do not hang your head, you’re far too pretty not be looked at.” he said, his face still passive.

Oh my god, what do I do? What do I say?

You know what I did? Nothing. I just lifted my head and nodded.

His shoulders were squared and his eyes were hooded, looking down at me. It was an order, not a request. I had never seen anyone look so domineering; I almost clenched my thighs together.

He smiled at me, a full blown smile, not one of those sarcastic crooked smiles, but one where he showed all his teeth - perfect, white teeth - and it was impossible not to smile back. His eyes crinkled and the crow’s feet at the corners came into visibility.

He was at least fifteen years older than me - Had my daddy issues really been that bad?

“Goodnight, Ms. Elwood,” he said, turning on his heel and his dog followed suit. “Sweet dreams.”

He smiled at me and nodded, his eyes glowing in the California moonlight

I cannot sleep with him. I cannot sleep with him. I cannot sleep with him.

I counted the syllables of that sentence with every step I took up the wooden stairs that led me from the beach to the balcony.


My God, was she striking. I think that was the only word appropriate enough to describe her. It was the only word that could possibly consummate the way she was. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a deep auburn color, a low lick of flame. I wanted to strap angel wings to her and make her my personal God-send, but the jeans that she had bandaged to her body made me question my faith.

The amount of time I had thought of wrapping that hair around my fist and feeling all that she was during that conversation was ridiculous.

I thought of her mouth, pouty lips that were set into a line, a soft smile of some sort. Her pretty, pink face was becoming tan under all that sun and her freckles were becoming visible.

She’s a baby, you idiot.

December Elwood - it fit her so well.

She had smelled like damp cotton and cheap bubblegum - like a girl. Not the woman her body showed her to be, but a little girl, the baby she was in her heart.

“Fuck,” my own voice was a whisper above the crashing waves a little distance away.

She was gorgeous and the way the her big green eyes looked at me was enough to make me want fuck her and make her cum so deliciously that she would win an award, only to deny the award because her orgasm was reward enough.

Then the thought floated away. I was done with women. I had sworn off women after Madeleine. I couldn’t do that to her - to either of them.

No matter how perfect I thought we could be, I could not crumble.


I had never been scared of the ocean - I didn’t see it as miles of vast emptiness; I saw it as energy. The sea was powerful, swallowing men and things whole. It was the best murderer of all time because it’s hands were never messy.

That’s how my father had died. He was sailing on a Sunday morning and never returned - nothing of his existence was ever found. My mother ued to tell me stories that he ran off with the true love of his life or set sail into the Sun and took a wrong turn into the Moon. That too, is how I chose to believe it.

I felt the cold air on my face; I had shaved that morning so the air was crisper than usual- the sun was rising against the coast line. I could never have lived anywhere except here.

I sat on a wet rock after my morning run, with my dog licking at my ankles. He was the best work-out partner a person could have - unlimited sources of relentless energy.

I turned when I heard the creak of a wooden door open and then December walked out. Slow steps and mewly yawns. Her wild, red hair was blowing into the wind and the steam from her coffee cup was rising into her nose.

I waved at her, but she hadn’t seen me so she didn’t wave back. She set her coffee cup on the wooden ledge of the balcony and focused on the rising Sun - it was hard to tell since I couldn't see her eyes, but she seemed sad. As if someone had rapped their knuckles on a healing bruise.

She then lifted her arms above her head and stretched- her white tank top spreading across her skin. Her nipples hard from the cold air and her hair burning in a fire halo around her face. I watched her movements and warmth radiated through my scalp - like a cat having its ears scratched.

I’m not sure when I decided to go against everything I had stood for, but I wanted to know her. Why so sad, why the look in her eyes, why so alone? Not lonely, just alone.

This one was mine. 


California coast line cloudy days were what I lived for - when the light outside was muted and salt went from the ocean into my hair. I stood outside - three weeks into my stay-cation. I spoke to Jason every now and then, catching him either in the early mornings or on late nights. Waiting for him outside on the sand to hear a few words of his was what I looked forward to all day. I always referred to him as Mr. Mulch - neither of sure if we were at the first name base yet.

He always seemed ultimately cool in the morning and unbelievably tired at night. Except he always stood outside for a few minutes, speaking to me about God know’s what. Last week he came home with a scratch on his cheek- fresh blood streaming down his face and onto the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay? What happened?" I'd asked

"It’s quite alright, Ms. Elwood, just a minor scratch."

The next night, he hadn’t come home at all. His dog ended up on my porch, a tall Dalmatian, and we went running that morning against the shore line. When we returned, Jason was sitting on the wood panels of the steps that had whitened over the years from salty air.

"I’m terribly sorry, Reno never bothers the neighbors."

"Don’t stress it, he’s so incredible."

He had looked so cool, in black dress pants and a white shirt. His jacket had been strung across his shoulder but this time, his shoes and socks were in a pile next to him. Oh my, what was it about bare male feet?

His muscles were curvy and swollen beneath his sheer dress shirt. His colored tattoos were visible and flawless. I wanted to bite into his bicep.

I caught him getting into his car that morning- a black Pontiac GTO- the classic version with a soft top. I'd waved. He shook a few fingers at me and sped off.

I stepped back into the house - a post war home built on wooden pillars. It was a gorgeous home; a single story above the giant garage with a terrace facing the Pacific. It was quite small, but it was cozy. Everything in the house felt modern and fresh, but not to the extent where it felt cold. The appliances were updated and the white carpet was immaculate.

I was house sitting for my father; he and his newest girlfriend had jetted off to Paris for the season.

I rinsed out my coffee cup and wiped down the counters, walking into the master bedroom. It was a grey room with white duvets, a sleek TV. and an enormous window facing the water.

I focused on the water and thought of my neighbor. He was tall and evidently fit. His skin was weathered and tan, his smile impeccably gorgeous. There was an aura that made him seem younger than his years, but his eyes were always sad, almost always frowning while his mouth was smiling. That was the bane of his physical appearance that showed him to be beyond his age. He was turning forty in December. I don’t remember dozing off, but I dreamt of brown eyes and strong hands.

I woke up to what I thought was a soft knock on my door, it was dark out and I stumbled to the door on weak legs. There it was again, light knuckles on the wooden frame and I opened it to find my oh-so-sexy neighbor standing there with his fist up and a leather duffel bag in the other.

“Uhm, hey,” I said breathlessly.

His eyes were soft. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Yes, but I’m glad you did, I'd been sleeping all day.”

I had never been this close to him in proximity; drops of rain hit the roof softly.

“Could I bother you with a huge favor?”

“Yeah, sure, of course. Do you want to come in?”

His forehead creased. “I don’t believe I can, that’s why I came over.”

I leaned against the door frame, my eyebrows drawn together.

“My boss has called me out of town on terribly short notice and I usually leave Reno at the dog hotel, but they’re full. I was wondering if you could watch him. He doesn’t have to stay here and you don’t have to stay at my place, but he still needs to be fed and let out to use the restroom.”

I nodded my head. “Absolutely, no worries, I’d be happy to do it.”

Yeah, amongst other things, you slut.

Relief washed over his face. “Thank you, it’ll only be for a few days. My number is on my counter along with some money. I can’t thank you enough.”

I bit my lip. “It’s no worries, and he’s a complete sweetheart.”

I bent down to scratch the black spots on Reno's chest, when I made the mistake of looking up at Jason. I had imagined so many times that I was in this exact position. Waiting at his feet, wanting, wishing to please him. His bottom lip quivered.

“Stand, December,” he said, his voice a throaty whisper.

I did as I was told and his dog raced between my legs and into the house.

I stood there, his body a shadow against the moonlight. We were breaths away from each other, a war waged from within, wondering who would crack first.

And before I knew it his mouth was on mine. His pouty lips sweet and soft and rough and his tongue invasive... I was on cloud nine.

He smelled like cigarettes and cologne and salt and the cold winds that came with the month of October and I relaxed into him.

It was a ferocious kiss; his hands were at my hips and my back, pressing me flush against his body. My fingers tunneled into his hair, clawing at his back and his arms, desperate to see if I could destroy him.

I felt myself moaning into his mouth and he swallowed up my sounds and my saliva.

He’s marvelous and we’re together and my stomach is about to drop out of my body- there is nothing I want more than this.

No one had ever kissed me like that, he was a new sensation.Then he wrapped the ends of my hair around his fist and softly pulled it, tilting my head towards him. A soothing sting.

“My God, what am I going to do with you?” he murmured against my mouth.

His head was bent down, his forehead touching mine and I could feel his chest rising up and down in sync with mine.

“Jason,” My words were a whisper against the warm skin of his face. His body emanated warmth and his knuckles dug into the flesh of my ass.

“You are so lovely,” he said, his eyes meeting mine as he gave me a quick kiss.

Then he was gone

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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