They drove for miles, passing out of the densely populated area and into the more undeveloped section of seacoast (as far as such a thing was possible in southern California anyway). Less than five miles from the Ventura County line, they came to a small turnoff that led to a place called Point Dume Beach. She turned here and descended down a steep road to a white stretch of beach. It wasn't completely deserted — there were a few people walking dogs, a few surfers down by the southern end, and a small family gathering near the northern end — but for the LA area it was about as deserted as a stretch of seacoast could possibly be.
"Do I know emptiness, or what?" she asked, parking the car in a small lot.
"I am impressed," Jake admitted.
They gathered a blanket, a picnic basket, their beach bags, and a small cooler and carried it down to the beach, finding a spot to deploy that was roughly in the middle of the biggest stretch of emptiness. The nearest person to them was more than three hundred yards away.
Jake had showered, shaved, and changed his clothes before leaving the warehouse. As such, he was now wearing his swimming trunks, a pair of sandals, and a Corona T-shirt. He took the T-shirt off and tossed it in his beach bag. Mindy whistled appreciatively as he bared his chest and ran her hand softly over it.
"Nice," she said, pinching a little on his upper abdomen.
"It's all those aerobic classes and personal trainer sessions they make us go to," he said, enjoying her touch upon him.
"Oh I know how that is," she assured him. "I go three times a week for two hours. That's why I can eat all that fried food and ice cream." She shrugged. "It beats anorexia or bulimia. That's how a lot of the actresses keep their shape. That's how Veronica does it."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah," she said. "While we were filming Thinner Than Water she was off barfing in her trailer six or seven times a day sometimes. When she wasn't getting it on with her agent, that is."
Jake pondered that little bit of inside Hollywood information for a moment but lost the image of Veronica puking and munching muff the moment Mindy grasped the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head.
"Wow," was all he could say as he gazed upon more flesh than any Mindy Snow fan had ever seen on the big screen or on television. Her bikini top was certainly not risqué, but it wasn't terribly conservative either. Her perfectly rounded breasts molded the red cups with a form that could only be considered excellence personified. And when she undid her shorts and pushed them down, showing the almost skimpy bikini bottoms, Jake had to fight to keep from drooling.
"What do you think?" Mindy asked, seeing his interest. "Is my workout regiment effective?"
"You're beautiful," Jake said. "You're an absolute work of art."
She gave him her shy smile. "Would you mind rubbing some sunscreen on this work of art? I wouldn't want to burn it."
He didn't mind at all. In fact, he had to fight furiously to keep from springing an embarrassing bulge in his shorts as he slathered the coconut scented liquid over her shoulders and back, going from her neck all the way down to the top of her bikini bottoms. Her skin was soft and silky and oh so smooth. He longed to put his mouth on it but held off for the time being.
"Should I do the front too?" he asked when he'd rubbed and touched her as much as he could get away with.
She giggled. "I think I can get that part myself," she said. And she did, but the sight of her rubbing lotion into the tops of her breasts and her smooth stomach and her sexy legs was almost more erotic than touching her with his hands.
When she was completely covered with sun block, she offered to do him as well. He gladly turned his back to her and spent a very pleasurable five minutes feeling her soft hands slide over his flesh, rubbing oil on his shoulders, his back, his neck.
"You can do my front," he offered once the job was complete.
She smiled and dropped the bottle of lotion into his hands. "I would," she said, "but you might think I was taking advantage of you."
"Spoilsport," he said.
Once he was as oiled as she, they broke into the picnic basket. Inside they found roasted turkey sandwiches, potato salad, and fresh cantaloupe slices, all prepared by Carmella. That ate the food and washed it all down with ice cold cokes. They then lay down next to each other and listened to the crashing of the waves on the shore. Jake wanted to hold her hand but she kept it firmly atop her stomach, out of his reach.
In all, they stayed for almost three hours, mostly just laying around and talking, but occasionally going out into the surf to play a little. They dodged waves and picked up shells. They did some body surfing until a particularly ferocious wave picked Jake up and slammed him down into the sand hard enough to knock the wind out of him. They walked up and down the length of the beach a few times, taking care to stay as far away as possible from any of the other beachgoers, outside of what Mindy called the "zone of recognition". And while they touched each other a few times while in the surf, they did not kiss or make out. And while they held hands while walking on the beach, they did not embrace here either.
"It's too public of a setting," Mindy told him the one time he'd tried to kiss her.
"But there's nobody else around," he said.
"I know, but its better safe than sorry." She offered him a seductive look. "There will be time for that later."
He tried no further, pacified by the implied promise she'd offered.
They climbed into the Porsche just after four o'clock, Jake behind the wheel this time. They were still wearing their wet bathing suits — although Mindy had put her tank top back on — so they sat on their towels to protect the seats.
"Let's go to my place," Mindy told him. "Do you know the way?"
He didn't actually, but she was glad to direct him. As he piloted the car through the winding roads Mindy snuggled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand on his leg. A few times, during the straightaway portions, she would angle her head upward and give him soft, drawn out kisses on the mouth. They talked little, and what conversation they did have was of unimportant things. Jake didn't mind. He was immensely enjoying the feel of her body against his.
They pulled into her garage just before five o'clock. When they entered the house, Carmella was nowhere to be found but the smell of roasting meat came from the kitchen.
"Mmmm," Mindy said, sniffing the air. "Her pot roast. Its one of my favorites."
"It smells delicious," Jake said.
"Wait until you taste it. But in the meantime, I really need a shower. I'm all icky with sunscreen."
"Me too," Jake said. "Do you mind if I hit your guest bathroom?"
"You could," she said thoughtfully. "But we are in the middle of a drought, you know."
"Huh?"
She blushed, her eyes looking downward shyly. "Well... in the interests of water conservation, maybe we should... you know... shower together."
Jake felt a flush passing through his body, along with a surge of blood rushing into his nether regions. "Uh... sure," he said. "I think that would be very environmental of us."
She led him upstairs, to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. They went to the master bathroom just beyond it. The shower stall was huge, encased by glass, tiled in dark granite. She opened the door and turned on the water taps, bringing it to life. Within seconds, steam began rise. After taking two large, fluffy towels from the linen shelf and hanging them on hooks just outside the shower door, she turned to him, her shy look still upon her face.
"Shall we get in?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied. "I think we should."
She gave a slight smile and reached behind her, unfastening her bikini top. She let it drop to the floor, baring her perfect breasts to his eyes. They were uniformly tan, the tone matching the rest of her skin. Her nipples were erect, pushing outward insistently. While he was still drinking in the sight of them, she put her hands on her hips and pushed her bikini bottoms down, kicking them off with her foot. Her flesh here was tanned as well, her pubic hair black but sparse, the edges neatly trimmed.