NOTE: This chapter is RATED ADULT for sexual content.

(See first part for disclaimer, notes, spoilers, etc.)

Chapter 14: "April Flowers"

The change of climate didn't go unnoticed by Gregory as stood on the balcony of his hotel suite in Sunset Beach. His beloved city back East was still recovering from an unusually long winter, its final snowstorm occurring last month before he flew to California for the first time. The cold wind blew harsh when he returned, whipping around the tall skyscrapers and stinging his face. Yet now, when he had walked the brief span of gray concrete from his cab to the terminal doors at LaGuardia, he felt a change in the air. It was still cool, but there was a warm freshness that clung to the air now. A freshness that only came with the bloom of the spring flowers. It was only a matter of time before the temperature rose out of the low 60's and the park would turn green again.

But in California, everything was already green. Too green. The perpetual warm temperature struck him as an unnatural phenomenon. Gregory had spent his entire life in New York and as such, was used to the dynamics of the seasons. To live in a place where there was only one temperature, one season all year long struck him as…wrong. The humidity of Manhattan in the late summer was excused because the cool promise of autumn loomed around the corner. The heaviness that suffocated the city was replaced when the air turned crisp and the smell of pine and burning wood perfumed the cool. All was forgiven when the leaves in Central Park turned brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow and then fell lazily to the ground. In California though, there was no escape. It was omnipresent.

To be in California, to be in Sunset Beach at this time conflicted Gregory as he considered the dual purpose it served. On the one hand, he had a responsibility to the company that his grandfather founded and that his father now ran. With that came the responsibility to Armando Deschanel and the plea he had whispered over lunch a month ago. He bit his cheek as the thought of monthly meetings with Armando's heir apparent, his son AJ. Young Deschanel was a person he had disliked since they first met as children. He was a sniveling and whiny child and continued in that fashion as an adult. Whatever brains he apparently had clearly came from his father.

But on the other hand, he had a second responsibility, one of a far more personal nature. And by whichever hand of the cruel fates had arranged it, it again involved AJ. Or rather, his wife.

Gregory certainly had no difficulties finding the company of ladies. It was a situation that eternally plagued his mother, Eleanor, who wanted nothing more than to see her youngest child settled down with a family of his own. To her displeasure, he seemed rather content with the life of a bachelor, keeping his own apartment in the city while his two married older brothers resided on Long Island near their parent's home with their own families. With that, he also seemed rather content to have a never-ending string of disposable girlfriends that he kept at arms length emotionally while crushing to him sexually. He was quite used to seeking out women he desired, regardless of whether or not they were involved in other relationships. Olivia Deschanel no different in that respect. He saw her and wanted her. Yet when he got her, she left him wanting more.

She attracted his eye and stirred something deep within him. Something deeply animalistic and born out of pure infatuation. As Gregory sat on the balcony now, his feet propped lazily on the top of the railing, he was aroused by the thought of her. Olivia had that unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes that intrigued him. That only enticed the burning rage of desire that she left him with last month. He shivered as he recalled the way her hands felt on his back, trailing over his hot skin as she crushed her lips to his.

Gregory glanced down at his watch. 1:54 p.m. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. Six minutes. He had already waited a month. Six minutes wouldn't kill him.

The cool stone of the ledge on the bar barely registered in Olivia's mind as she rested her bare arms on it. She slid up onto the leather cushioned bar stool and rested against the black wood back. Her small woven purse lay to her right as she anxiously tapped her fingernails on the bar's surface.

The bartender shook his head knowingly and waited in front of her. When she didn't acknowledge him, he cleared his throat expectantly.

"Oh," she gasped. Her eyes rolled in thought as her fingernails clicked faster. "Irish Headlock, please." The bartender nodded and turned away.

When she had agreed to see Gregory Richards again, she had made that decision on a series of emotions born on the high of the incredible sex they shared and her underlying disgust with her husband. As she sat across from him in Armando's lounge a month ago, Gregory's brown eyes were still hard with the unbridled lust from the day before. She knew he wanted her. Were it not for the presence of her in-laws, she was quite sure that he would have had no problem clawing her dress off and pounding into her until she screamed his name into the night.

The bartender returned with the shot glass layered with liquor, placing it in front of her on top of a small square napkin. She took a crisp ten-dollar bill out of her purse and slid it across the bar. "Keep the change," she murmured as she picked up the small glass. The neat layers of brandy, amaretto, Irish whisky, and Irish cream mocked the uncertainty that churned within her. While Olivia was sure that Gregory had wanted her a month ago and though she wanted him still, she wasn't entirely sure if his desire survived the month long separation.

Olivia felt somewhat confidant that it had, otherwise why would he have suggested seeing one and other again? Her nerves steadied temporarily until she considered that his offer was a just a leftover from the physical act they shared. She sighed in disgust and threw her head back, swallowing the one-ounce shot. Other twenty-two year olds don't have this problem, she grumbled to herself as she returned the now empty shot glass to the clean cradle that was the napkin. Other twenty-two year olds aren't tied down to a marriage and a husband that they resent.

"Anything else, doll?" The bartender looked across at Olivia. Of the few people that had come in since the bar opened at ten a.m., no one had looked as if they needed a drink more than she did.

Olivia shook her head and glanced down at her watch. 1:50 p.m. Ten minutes. The walk across the lobby to the elevator would take no more than forty-five seconds. The ride up to his hotel room would take a maximum of two minutes. She took a deep breath and let the steadying effect of the alcohol wash over her. Her eyes closed and she concentrated on the repetitive feeling of her breath rushing in and out of her body.

The bartender took back the empty shot glass and napkin, tucking them into the wash bin underneath the counter before running a damp cloth over the stone. "You know," he said after a moment, "whatever it is…just do it." Olivia's eyes opened slowly and she folded her hands in front of her. He nodded at her as he ran a dry cloth over the counter and tossed it over his shoulder. "You may be nervous but just go for it."

She smiled weakly as the bartender moved a few feet down the bar to another patron. The delicate arms of her watch now read two minutes later. She pushed herself away from the bar and grabbed her purse as she stood up. Turning to the lobby, she took another deep breath as she strode with a confidence she didn't quite feel out of the bar and across the lobby. Rather than wait for the elevator and chance an encounter with someone she knew, she walked past it and pushed open the door to the stairwell.

With any luck, the trip up to the fifth floor would work off any nervousness that still dampened her spirit. For she was excited to see Gregory. When she had been with him last month, he had managed to set every one of her senses on fire. His touch had stayed on her body for days afterwards, his fingers trailing down her thigh. The spiked sound his breathing as he climaxed haunted her waking moments and the nights when it was AJ she should have heard. As she turned onto the stairs between the third and fourth floors, she chased the thought of AJ from her mind. She wouldn't allow him to taint the only time she really felt alive in the past two years, even if he was only there in her mind.

Olivia quickened her pace as she walked up the remaining stairs and paused to catch her breath before turning the handle on the stairwell door. The hallway was chilly as cold air rushed out of the air conditioning vents and dimly lit from the sconces alternately spaced on the walls. She walked slowly down the hall, her sandals clicking softly as they passed over the multi-toned tile. She stopped in front of Gregory's door and squeezed her eyes shut as she knocked quickly. Oh please, she thought, if I'm going to be rejected, let it be quick and not too embarrassing for either of us. Olivia forced her eyes open as she heard the lock turn and door knob squeak.

Gregory opened the door and forcefully pulled her inside the room. She stumbled against him as he kicked the door shut and pushed her back against the door. He pressed against her, resting his hands on either side of her head and staring deep into her eyes. "Hello," he whispered, his lips no more than two inches away from hers.

She licked her lips as relief flooded into her. His eyes still held the same lust that they did when she last saw him. She smiled demurely and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Hello to you." She rested her hands on his chest and felt the pounding of his heart beneath his ribcage.

Gregory's head tilted a fraction and caught her lips as she pulled back. He tasted the rich sweetness of the liquor on them and her tongue as he reacquainted himself with her mouth. "Not so fast," he whispered as she pulled him closer. He captured her face within his hands, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "I just want to look at you." He watched as her eyes wrinkled in confusion, but she obliged his request. Her lips quivered as she took a breath. If possible, those damn blue eyes of hers seemed even bluer than he remembered.

She fidgeted as his strong gaze continued to move over her face, but never left it. "So, what do I get for just standing here and indulging you?"

He pulled her closer, one hand cupping her rear as the other traveled up to her chest. "Whatever you want," he whispered in her ear.

"The only thing," Olivia gasped as his hand ripped open her shirt and snaked around to unclasp her bra, "I want right now is you." His hand returned to the front to cup her breast and he smiled when her breathing became shallow.

"It's a good thing I'm availab-" Gregory cut off as she silenced him with her mouth. He pulled her away from the door and further into his embrace as he backed into the hotel suite.

Olivia followed Gregory further into the hotel room, without breaking the kiss. His lips were firm against hers as his tongue slipped in between them to caress the inside of her cheek and her own tongue. His hands gave up on pulling open the rest of the buttons on her shirt as he ripped the two halves apart and forced the shirt off her shoulders. Kissing his way over the bone of her jaw, his mouth eventually found a sensitive spot just below her ear lobe. Her low moan rang out as his lips and teeth alternately teased the area. His hands were intent on divesting her of the burgundy bra that hung open.

So focused was he on stripping her and drinking in as much of her as he could that he backed them into the small end table. The lamp crashed into the floor and there was a pop as the light bulb shattered underneath the billowy lampshade. He froze and pulled away from her neck as her head fell back with laughter.

Gregory turned back to Olivia as her fingers pulled his shirt up and off his body. "We're a sight," she laughed. "Standing here in various states of undress." Her back shuddered with laughter beneath his hands as they collapsed onto the couch in the sitting room. Kneeling next to him, she pulled the shirt off his body and tossed it behind her before surrendering her arms so he could remove her bra. With nothing between them, she pressed herself back against him, her smooth chest against his rough one. He pulled her hair gently, her head falling back as his tongue trailed down the curve of her neck to the base of her throat and further still to her breast. Olivia nearly jumped away from him as his tongue followed the curve of her breast up from the valley of her chest and she felt his legs tighten around her waist.

One hand fell from her hair to start bunching up the peasant skirt she wore. He pulled his lips away from her breast long enough to curse the length of material. Her hands fell down from his shoulder and she gathered the skirt to one side as he pulled her deeper into his lap. She sighed as she pulled down the zipper and freed him from the confines of his pants. As he thrust up, she ground down hard on him, pulling him in to her. His grunt echoed in her ears as she leaned up and continued to bring him deeper. Again and again, she writhed on top of him and she grabbed his face within her hands, forcing her lips to his and inviting him into her mouth. And when he lost himself in her, his cry of orgasm was in her mouth.

Olivia broke away, wiping a smudge of her lipstick off his lips with her thumb. She smiled and leaned against his heaving chest, her head on his shoulder. The heavy breathing was the only sound in the room as they sat together while their bodies recouped. After a few moments, when Olivia's breathing became less labored, she started to pull away and slide off him.

Gregory's arms tightened around her back and he kissed the side of her head. "Stay," he whispered.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. His brown eyes were glazed over with fulfillment and a softness that came with afterglow. She nodded as she ran her fingers through his hair that was damp with sweat. "For how long?"

"As long as you want."