I haven't had the easiest time this year, and perhaps that is why, as the monsoon broke, I was drawn back to this place - the town where I grew up. I'd hoped perhaps to find something new here, amidst the echoes of so many old things - the hope that the flower of novelty grew somewhere between the cracks in the mossy stone floor of nostalgia. I've always loved to take long walks in the rain, and as I stand unpacking the contents of my suitcase into the tiny cupboard in my old room, I hear that tell-tale rumble of thunder.
Instinctively, I drop half folded cotton and run out. Following old memories down the dimly lit corridors and out of the house, my bare feet carry me across creaking wood, cobbled stone and parched sand, half falling from the stumbling, unmeasured steps that precede such long-overdue reunions. I burst upon the beach and draw in a deep breath of the rain-ladden sea wind - I smile. Wind so full of promise, like the footsteps that come before a long awaited lover. I look up, and then, the first drops of rain - tiny, barely there kisses fall upon on my upturned face - as always, on the eyelids first.
I feel the happiness bubbling up from behind long-closed doors, and I run down the beach, leaping, twirling, whooping for joy - my hair whipping about me as the wind plucked at my hair and my white cotton sundress.
It begins to pour in earnest now, a welcome deluge that completely soaks through my dress and my hair. I squint at the sky, and the rain gets in my eyes and mouth - kissing them indiscriminately and immodestly, and I'm gasping for breath and thoroughly wet. This is bliss. I give into its torrential embrace, the rain is seeping into my bones. This is happiness so absolute that it is indistinguishable from madness. I can't stop laughing. Breathless, I throw myself onto a mound of wet sand, and lie there, arms open, eyes squeezed shut, letting the rain pour over me. I can't stop laughing. I'm three years old and I'm thirty years old. This is me. Rain drenched and wearing more laughter and sand than clothes. This is me, melting in white cotton, letting go of the stale job, the failed relationships and the aching loneliness that had become the soundtrack of my adult life. I feel lighter than I've ever felt. This is me, undone.
I stick my tongue out to taste the rain. The sea rushes forward to taste me and I suddenly find myself buried under cold wave and sea foam, and I'm powerless. I gasp for breath, the sea is not a gentle lover in June. I sit up and stare out into the distance, slowly getting hypnotised by symphonic sounds of the waves. The wind is cold, I let it dance all over my skin - plucking at my hair, caressing the back of my neck. My nipples harden. I run my hands down my body, rubbing my arms to warm them up at a little.
Suddenly, I notice that I'm not alone. Out there, I see a glimpse of tanned brown skin, lean muscular arms slicing through the waves, swimming in closer towards the shore.
Who could be mad enough to brave the sea in the middle of a storm?, I wonder to myself.
I leap to my feet and rush to the shoreline, squinting in the rain as I tried to see if this mad man was alright. He has long black hair, I see it as he draws closer to the shore. A giant wave lifts him high and my breath catches in my throat. The wave races towards the shore carrying him aloft, and I catch a glimpse of his face - he was grinning! Before I had time to emote further surprise, the wave crashes on to the shore, and washes him up on the sand in front me. He slowly stands up and shakes his head, sea water flying from his hair, a deliberate carelessness in the way he held himself. The moment the sea let go of him, the rain claimed him. It falls on him and I followed the droplets as they ran their way down his body - lean, tanned, long - with that 'v' cut of muscle just where his lightly muscled abdomen met his swimming trunks. I hastily drag my gaze back up - a big grin still plastered over his face, he opens his eyes and looks right into mine.
Fuck.
He's hardly a feet away from me. I know this man - this mad man who laughs when he's tossed about by waves, this mad man who looks so dangerously handsome that I can already know I want to do stupid things with him. I know this man.
"Jacob", I breathe, memories flooding my mind the minute his name left my lips. Jacob, my childhood friend, who I have not seen since I left home after high school. Jake, the first boy who I loved.
He looks like he's seen a ghost. Or the sun. His grin grows wider, but I see the whorled dance of conflicting emotions in his big brown eyes - regret, surprise, happiness.
"Bella."
That's all he says and I find myself crushed against his hard, wet chest. His strong arms weave around me and I put mine around his neck, trying to draw him even closer. This feels so good.
"I've missed you" he says.
I look up at him, he's grown so much taller. There are still traces of the boy I fell in love with, but barely. His face is stronger now, the sharp lines of his jaw softened only by his warm brown eyes. And his smile - that hasn't changed one bit.
"I've..." I start to say, wanting to explain the past 12 years, but he puts his finger on my lips.
"Shhh"
I couldn't have said a word if I wanted to. I was suddenly so aware that my skin was burning up from being in contact with his. He's looking at me like he's found something he'd never thought he'd see again, and he looks so hot - his lazy grin has been replaced by something far more irresistible. I lean in closer. So does he.
My eyes flutter shut and warm lips brush against mine. My lips part, and his tongue slips in. I moan softly, and deepen the kiss. The rain falling on us feels cold, and every inch of his skin feels burning hot to the touch. My knees feel far to weak to hold me up, but thankfully, he's holding me up against him, and I sink into his embrace. His lips tease mine, and I smile. He picks me up and spins me around, not breaking the kiss. I wrap my legs around him, pressing my wet body against his. He's kissing me harder now, nipping slightly at my lips, his tongue battling with mine. 12 years of unresolved break-up angst, and he's taking it out on me with a kiss. I groan, and give it right back - slipping my tongue into his mouth. He tastes like rain and sea, and I run my fingers through his hair, tugging on them, trying to get him even closer to me.
And then I notice it. My legs were wrapped around him, and right where our warm, wet bodies met, I could feel him hard and fervently pressing up against me. He wasn't my 17 year old boyfriend anymore. He's hard, a strong, grown man and he wants me. I shiver involuntarily in anticipation. I wrap my legs around him tighter, squirming a bit as I tried to rub myself against him. A groan erupted from his throat, and his eyes flew open.
I blush furiously, old insecurities creeping back in unbidden. We're practically strangers to each other, what if he doesn't want to..., I thought.
"So beautiful, still so beautiful,", he whispers, looking at me with the same reverent expression as he did when we were younger.
I smile. Maybe I was reading this wrong. He does want this.
He lets me down, and I slide down his body, my feet back on the sand. He holds his hand out.
"Walk with me, Bella?"
I take his hand. The rain is still falling around us, but it has slowed down to a light drizzle.
"I never thought I'd see you again", he said. "Or worse, that you'd be happily married and would have forgotten all about me."
"How do you know I'm not married now?", I ask, grinning.
He entwined his fingers in mine and pulled me closer to him. He grinned cheekily and I watched mesmerised as he leaned down to kiss the back of my ringless hand.
I blush. Damn this man and his charming self. Thirty years old and I'm blushing like a teenager.
"Are we walking towards someplace in particular?", I ask.
"I've got a shack nearby", he explains. "I come here to read or swim or to sometimes meet long lost lovers, who appear out of nowhere after 12 years, looking like rain drenched, sea kissed goddesses."
I laugh.
"You've always had a way with words, Jacob"
He stopped walking and turned towards me. "I'd have preferred if I was the one doing all the kissing, instead of the sea", he says cheekily. "But then again, that is something that can be easily rectified, is it not?"
I realise that we've reached the shack he spoke of earlier, and that he's looking at me with this burning intensity.
"Jacob, you're smouldering at me." My voice is barely a whisper. "You know what that does to me."
I drink in the sight of him, and I'm turned on beyond belief. Every inch of my skin is alive with anticipation, aware of how close it is to his. I stroke his face with my hand.
"Even after all these years?", he asks.
I laugh, delighted. We spent many a long day on this very beach, reading Harry Potter, when we were younger.
"Always", I reply. He picks me up and carries me into his shack. The walls inside are covered by shelves - filled with books and knick knacks. There's a small bed in one corner, little lamps hang low from the ceiling, and I see empty wine bottles under it. When did Jacob turn into a romantic bookworm?
He lays me down softly on the bed. My breath catches in my throat. He's hovering above me now, still wet from the rain. His chest is heaving, and a few errant drops of rainwater drip from his messy hair onto my face. I giggle.
He lowers his body down on to the bed, half lying on top of me, and half on the bed. He's hooked one leg across mine, and his hand creeps up to cup my face.
"I've dreamed of you so often, Bells", he breathes, his lips inches away from mine. "I don't know what brought you back home, but I'm not letting you slip away again."
"I didn't dare hope that you'd still be available, Jacob." "I always assumed you'd get together with Leah sooner or later."
"How could I?", he says, his voice husky and deep. "You were always the one for me, Bells."
His fingers begin to creep down by body, his strong hands cupping my breasts. He starts teasing my nipples with his thumb.
I can barely get any words out.
"So, we start over?" I ask, moaning lightly. When did he get so good at this?
"Mmhmm"
Suddenly I feel a strong tug and hear a loud rip. I can now feel the wind and sea air on my bare chest.
Did he just tear my dress? Before I can reply, I'm moaning. His lips are doing what his hands were. His hot, wet tongue slips over my nipples, slowly teasing them.
I arch up, rubbing myself against his hard body. My hands dip down to reach for him. He bites back a groan, and goes straight for my neck. His mouth begins to ravish that sensitive spot below my ear, and I can't think anymore.
His hand slips further down my body, pulling away the remnants of my torn white dress. I'm naked and his hand is snaking in between my thighs.
His fingers slip in, stroking me lazily and I gasp. I arch into his shoulder and bite his neck.
"Still a biter, Bells?", he laughs. His beautiful head dips lower and he nips at my chest. Waves of pleasure run down my body. His fingers keep stroking me down there while his tongue plays with my nipples - it feels like my entire body is a network of pleasure. I'm moaning fervently now. I can't stop - it feels so good, and I'm so wet.
His fingers are stroking faster now, and my hips arch up against his hand. He kisses me hard on my lips and then slides down my body. I try to raise myself up, trying to figure out what he's upto.
"Na-uh." In a flash, he pushes me back down, and I'm thrown back against the bed.
"You're going to lie there, Bells. I'm going to show just how much I missed you.", he says. It's a promise, a threat, a prophecy. His head is between my legs now, and his tongue replaces his fingers.
I'm in heaven. I'm squirming against his face, but his hands hold me down. His lips and tongue are out of this world, teasing and stroking me relentlessly. There's nothing gentle about him - I can see the muscles in neck straining from the effort he's putting into this. My hands grip his hair, moving his face closer to me. I want more.
12 years of not having this, and now I can't stand a moment longer. I'm aching, quaking with desire and I want nothing more than to tumble over the edge. His fingers slip into me, and I scream. Over wind and storm, my voice raises its pleasured crescendo. His tongue and his fingers are stroking in perfect rhythm now, and I'm circling the edge. Tumbling and wheeling over precipices, my entire body is singing with pleasure. I don't know how much longer I can take this.
"Jacob, please" I beg.
He looks up and I'm stunned. The sight of his head in between my legs, and him looking up at me - I almost lose it. He must have seen the desperation on my face, because he slowly slithers back up, and captures my lips in another kiss. This time, I can taste myself, the sea and pure, unadulterated love.
"Bells, you taste so good", he moans against my lips. One hard thrust, and he's inside me. I arch against him, screaming, clinging to his hard length as I feel myself tighten around him.
He's incoherent now. He starts to slowly move, teasing me with the rhythm, just like the rain when it's drizzling. I feel like I'm on fire, my body is thrumming in pleasure. His lips capture mine again, and I'm kissing him hard - like a prayer against his lips urging him to take me harder, faster. I didn't know until today, but I've been waiting a long while for this.
My body is moving with his. We're both screaming and whispering, dancing the same dance. His hand is in my hair, pulling me closer to him. We're moving faster now,the frenzied rise of our bodies, wet flesh against wet flesh, washing away the years. It feels like our first time again. He's thrusting harder, one hand pulling at my hair and the other teasing my breasts. I bite his neck, as the pleasure pools up between my legs and spreads like a fire through my body. He's slamming into my body now, fast and hard, and I can't hold on for much longer. I'm rising like the waves outside, we're cresting together, our bodies twisting in tidal synchronicity.
"Jacob!"
"Bella!"
We're screaming and we're falling - together, tumbling over the edge. Our bodies tense up, clinging to each other and we're crashing together. Like the waves reaching the shore, we slump back onto the bed, spent. I can't breathe. He's sprawled over my body, and my arms tighten around him, hugging him to closer to me and we lie there, panting.
He places soft kisses on my chest, and I stroke his hair. The rest of my body is paralysed and I can't do anything but revel in the post-coital haze.
"I love you Jacob.", I whisper.
"I will always love you, Bella", he replies, pulling me closer till we're spooned up against each other. He kisses my neck, my shoulder, my back.
Outside, June rain fell with a vengeance, bearing witness to the promise. I'm home.
