The wind whipped violently around them, but within the groove of the rock, their words echoed in the small chamber.
"I was afraid you wouldn't come," she whispered, then moved, her sweater falling down, exposing her shoulder and the inviting rise of her cleavage. Kirk’s eyes shifted toward the appealing roundness, and Chyna felt his finger blaze a bold trail across her breasts and down into the valley between them.
"Look at my face, Chyna,” he said as he watched his finger travel across her soft skin. “Look at me in the daylight. Look at the scars that were hidden in the darkness."
"Kirk," she whispered, reaching up and caressing his scarred face. "I see every line, every flaw, and it doesn't make any difference. Don't you know by now that I don't care about your scars? She looked longingly at his sensuous mouth and the blue flash of his eyes.
"Chyna, think about it," he whispered urgently. "Are you sure this is the face you want to see above you?"
"Oh yes," she urged, looking at his unbelieving eyes. "I'm not blind, Kirk. I see the scars, every one of them, but no ugliness. To me you’re the most handsome man I've ever known."
Kirk leaned down slowly and Chyna sighed as he pressed his soft, delicious lips against hers. He sensuously parted them in a delightful exploratory kiss, and Chyna moaned as she opened up to him. He kissed her over and over again as his arms surrounded her, pulling her to him. She could feel his hard body as it pressed her down on the smoothness of the unrelenting rock. Then releasing her lips, he breathed heavily into her ear, speaking her name softly.
With the heat of the moment racing through her, Chyna began to feel the most base, impure need to feel him, to taste him. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it back, then opened her mouth and drew on his shoulder, feeling his hard muscles rippling beneath her touch. She buried her fingers in his thick, dark hair, closing her eyes as his mouth moved along her neck and breasts. Then she began to move her hungry lips and tongue along his chest and neck.
She could taste and smell a faint aroma of spice and foam. Then her ravenous hands went exploring along his arms and back. She moaned as he began pulling her sweater down and surrounding her breasts with his large hands.
As the cool wind whistled mournfully she began unbuckling his pants, feeling a desire inside her as strong as the elements around her. As the wildness of the wind whipped and raged, her desire flared as it never had before. His hungry mouth covered her nipples and began to suckle hungrily on them.
The rock trembled under the force of the elements, then the surf reached them, saturating them with the pounding ocean. The wild surf went unnoticed as the two of them quickly stripped off the rest of their soggy clothes and devoured each other with their hungry mouths. Chyna felt like a wanton bitch hungering for her mate. She arched her back as the electricity of pleasure streaked through her time and time again. As the wind blew, the ocean heaved wave after wave upon them, puddling their bodies in the restless water.
Having Kirk so near after wanting him for so long was potent, and the desire building inside her made her want to literally inhale him. Nestled in the yawning chasm of the rock, they were at the mercy of each other's desire that was pounding just as furiously within them as the wind and surf. Wet flesh touched wet flesh and neither could stop. Kirk teased her with his hands until Chyna began writhing like a snake, ready for him to enter her. Wild with desire, she couldn’t wait, but reached down and took his pulsing shaft in her hands, pushing it against her sensitive opening.
When she felt the first delicious thrust of penetration, her moans mingled with the violent crashes of the ocean as it saturated them once again. It seemed the wildness of the winds and waves orchestrated their every movement, and as if taking his cues from the very elements Kirk began a wild movement above her, recklessly burying himself deeper and deeper inside her. She lifted her legs, and cried out as Kirk’s violent plunges seemed in competition with the waves. Although the relentless tides were savage, Kirk was giving her a ride even more exciting than the wind and the surf. She grabbed him, holding on as they moved together toward paradise.
Kirk's passion mounted as he sank inside Chyna to the very hilt, pulling her upwards to meet his thrusts then pushing her hard into the gathered ocean as if trying to force her down deeper and deeper into the dark cavity of the rock. Chyna felt his size was tearing her apart but knew she would die if he stopped. The insides of her thighs were wet not only with the ocean, but with her response to Kirk's wild, untamed sex. She wound her legs around his waist welding them together, both climbing toward glorious release.
Then as Kirk neared the summit, his face contorted as he exploded inside her. Chyna moaned aloud as she felt his juices flood her and felt her own release right behind his. She arched her back as she felt consumed with a series of pulsing orgasms that caused her cunt to grasp his column and contract over and over, reluctant to let him go.
When it was over they lay exhausted in each other’s arms. Chyna lifted her fingernails and saw blood and flesh underneath where her passion had apparently dug them into Kirk’s back. Tears welled up in her eyes, because Chyna knew for the first time in her life that she was in love. It was a deep, aching love that she knew could not be felt twice in a lifetime. The two of them stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for as long as possible, each enjoying the other’s closeness. Finally, they had to part, knowing if they stayed any longer they would be missed. So, when they finally dressed in their soggy clothes and walked back along the ocean path, they clung to each other. When Cat’s Paw came into view, Kirk turned to her. "You go in first, and I'll come in later."
"Why?"
"Quinn’s probably there.” Kirk hesitated, looking into her eyes with uncertainty. “I don't want him to see us together."
"If you say so, but I don't understand why it matters."
"I just don’t want to give him another opportunity to cheapen what we have, or even destroy it. Please, Chyna."
She knew he was right, and a pang of uneasiness spread through her when she thought of the way he had already hurt Kirk with his lies and his manipulations. She couldn’t stand the thought of him being hurt again. "Of course, darling,” she said softly .“You’re right." She turned to go, then stopped and paused for a moment, looking up at him. "Kirk, would you think about moving upstairs? It's important that you start living in the world again. Wear the mask if you want, but at least think about it, would you?"
"I don't know.” He seemed nervous. “Maybe."
She stepped up close to him and whispered. "I promise I'll make it worth your while."
Kirk grinned. "There you go, trying to seduce me again."
"Hey, after today I'm beginning to wonder who seduced who."
His eyes devoured her face, then his finger drew an imaginary line along her chin as he whispered, "Okay, I promise I'll think about it."
Chyna turned for her climb up the little slope leading to Cat's Paw, then turned at one point high above the beach and looked far down the sandy strip at the huge rock that had been their meeting place. The pounding surf was so wild and wonderful—just like her love for Kirk.
Kirk was angled back in a large, brown leather chair looking up into bright lights, a huge magnifying glass, and a camera that seemed to be glaring at him with one eye. The doctor sat on a stool adjacent to him squinting through a large, amplified glass. With antiseptic hands he probed, stretched, and moved his fingers roughly across Kirk's scarred face. After a while he pushed the larger glass aside and fit a small, black instrument against one eye for closer work.
"You know," the doctor said as his eyes and fingers moved together across Kirk's face, "You've gotta be the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the earth."
"Doc," Kirk began, while blinking up into the bright lights. "I think you're a little confused here. Good luck is if I had never gotten into that car. This—" he said, pointing to his face, "—this is what you call bad luck. See the difference?"
The doctor chuckled, pulling away. "Oh, sorry, I didn't understand. Glad you could straighten me out on that."
While extracting the black object from his eye, he lifted his hand and turned off the lights, then sat looking at Kirk. "What I mean is, it could have been a whole hell of a lot worse." He paused, taking off his antiseptic gloves, then raised his eyes, looking curiously at Kirk. "Personally, I don't know how in God's name you came away from that accident without being decapitated, your throat cut, or at the very least blinded. Someone had to be looking after you."
“Someone was looking after me?” Kirk said excitedly. “I’ve spent ten years in a friggin’ basement, and you think someone was watching out for me?” Kirk cast the doctor a wry smile. “You get funnier all the time.”
“That’s another thing, Kirk,” the doctor said, while adjusting the camera and puttering around. “Why wait ten years to get this work done? Why didn’t you look into this in the beginning?”
Kirk shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot of things, I guess. According to the doctor I was in shock and they couldn’t operate. I was miserable. Looking like a monster, and feeling like one. That’s when the depression started. It was serious enough for the surgery to be rescheduled. Before I knew it, ten years had passed. By that time I figured it was too late.”
“Why the hell would you think that? I mean, I work with faces that have had years of sun damage, years of getting old and wrinkled. Good grief, Kirk, there’s no time limit on cosmetic surgery. If there was, we’d all be out of business.”
Kirk’s eyes shadowed with pain. “Hell, I knew that. Maybe a shrink would tell me that subconsciously I was punishing myself for killing my parents. All I know is I set my own limitations. I was determined not to allow myself any happiness. I didn’t feel I deserved it—hadn’t suffered enough.”
“Hadn’t suffered enough? Good God man, you were practically torn apart, and you felt you hadn’t suffered enough?”
“I know I was stupid, but the truth is, the longer I stayed down in that hole, the easier it got.”
“What do you mean?” the doctor asked, trying to understand.
“Do you know what it’s like, facing the world after staying buried in a hole for ten years—or one even—or two? As long as I stayed down there, I didn’t have to worry about the world at large, or adjusting. After a while I was hiding out from the world, from everything. Hell I don’t know, it’s all so damned confusing.” He looked up at the doctor. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to adjust. I mean, the world has changed so much.” Kirk looked around at all the machinery. “Look at all these gadgets,” he said, his eyes jumping from one sleek device to another. “Whatever happened to a simple examination and then a scalpel?”
The doctor smiled. “These are not toys, Kirk. They help me do my job. Progress, you’ve heard of it.”
“Sure, I’ve heard of it, but don’t you see what I’m saying? Ten years—ten friggin’ years, a decade of my life is gone. The world is a new place."
"So the hell what?” the doctor said, sliding onto the stool opposite Kirk and leaning toward him. “It's better than two decades—three—your whole life being gone, isn’t it? Kirk, don’t you see, dammit? You’re doing it again. Setting limitations. Hell, adjusting is nothing. Besides, did it ever occur to you that if this whole thing hadn't happened, you might never have met Chyna? When you left school you would have become the hot shot lawyer you kept telling everyone you were gonna be, right? The next step would’ve been marriage with a girl that would’ve taken everything you made in alimony. But, as it happened you buried yourself, shying away from any kind of human contact. Then Chyna comes along and takes an interest in you—hell even falls in love with you. Maybe it couldn't have happened any other way." When he saw Kirk considering what he was saying, he got up and went over to his computer. "Anyway, I still stick with my original opinion. Any man with Chyna Marsh in his bed is one lucky son of a bitch, no matter what it took to get her there." The doctor began punching keys then looked over at his patient. "Look into the camera, Kirk." When Kirk glanced into the camera lens, the doctor's fingers played over the keys until he was satisfied. He looked back over at Kirk. "So, you had to give up ten years of your life to find the woman of your dreams." The doctor cut his eyes over at him. "Wasn't she worth it?"
Kirk looked over at the doctor and frowned suspiciously. "What in hell are you saying?"
"Wasn't she friggin' worth it? You know, between the sheets."
Kirk jumped up. "You lousy son of a bitch. I don't like your suggestive remarks."
"All right, calm down, Romeo, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just complimenting your taste in women."
"Yeah? Well, you could have just given me a thumbs up or something."
The doctor smiled, punched a key, and a picture of Kirk crept out of a machine. Walking over and picking up the picture, he turned to Kirk with a thumbs up gesture—concerning both matters.
* * * *
Chyna stood out in front of The Sea Shadows Inn waiting for Kirk. Finally a cab pulled up and she noticed someone getting out. Watching him while he leaned over to pay the cabby, Chyna couldn't help noticing how handsome he was. Finally pulling her eyes away, she looked down the street, still looking for Kirk. Suddenly she heard a voice behind her.