Sea Glass Inn (17 page)

“Don’t ask me that. I don’t paint portraits any more. In fact, I rarely paint at all. Until your commission, I’d only done about one mosaic a year.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Pam rubbed her eyes wearily. She should leave. Her brilliant plan to use tequila to help her seduce Mel had backfired. The only thing the alcohol had lubricated was her willingness to talk. Like being in a damned confessional.

“Lie down,” Mel said.

“I really should…I need to…” Pam wasn’t sure what she needed.

To get out of this warm room. Get away from the sadness she had seen in Mel’s eyes when she talked about her marriage and again when Pam blurted out the story of her own messed-up past. This was nothing like the silly, playful foreplay she had been hoping for.

“Lie down,” Mel insisted. She moved so she was kneeling next to Pam.

Pam leaned back on her elbows and then finally rested back on the rug. She closed her eyes. She had to stop this, go back to her room. Or better yet, go back to her own home. The gaping hole in her house seemed preferable to the chaotic emotions she felt as Mel put a little wedge of lime in her mouth and bent over to lick the side of Pam’s neck. The bitter citrus stung Pam’s lips where they were chapped from the sea air. Even the sprinkle of salt assaulted Pam’s nerve endings, and she arched her neck in an involuntary reaction to the sensation. Her skin felt too fragile, too paper-thin to protect her from the abrasive touch of the world, of her memories.

She kept her eyes shut, sinking into herself, but she could feel Mel leaning over her. Pam slid her hands under the sleeves of Mel’s robe and anchored them on Mel’s bare upper arms, strong and alive and protecting, braced on either side of Pam’s head just as she’d imagined that afternoon. She could smell the intoxicating combination of roses and tequila when Mel licked the salt off her neck. The light stroke of Mel’s tongue pulled Pam back to the surface, back to all the places where her skin was in contact with Mel’s. Her thoughts were jumbled with family, loss, pain, but all of the pieces coalesced and then drifted away when Mel’s mouth met hers. A brief kiss as Mel sucked the lime from between Pam’s lips. Pam felt all of her awareness hone in on the momentary connection. Mel’s lips burned, but in a good way. Pam was wet in an instant, her arousal more intense because she had been so raw only seconds before. She was soothed now. Coming alive again.

Mel sat back on her heels. She chewed the lime and then flicked the peel into the trash can while she watched Pam.

Mel had almost lost her to the deep place she went when life or her past was too much to bear. She still didn’t understand Pam completely, but she was learning more about her. About the way she experienced the world—as if it had different dimensions, more intensity, than it did for other people. Mel’s shyness, her worry about seeming like an inept virgin, disappeared.

The contact and the kiss had been for Pam, but now Mel wanted more. One quick taste of Pam’s skin wasn’t enough. She needed Pam back in the room, back in the present, because she wanted to kiss her again. Not to rescue Pam this time, but to stir up the passion Mel felt building deep in her belly. Pam was lying so still Mel might have worried she had passed out if it wasn’t for the smile twitching at the corner of her lips. Without warning, Pam sat up so she was face-to-face with Mel. Mel caught herself before she moved away in surprise at the sudden movement. She licked her lips, anticipating a kiss, but Pam only brushed her nose gently against Mel’s.

“Your turn,” Pam said. “Lie down.”

Mel hesitated. She was comfortable leaning over Pam and touching her. But to lie back and be touched was a different matter altogether. She hadn’t been put in this position for a long time. Not just sex, but letting another person take control, take care of her.

Wife, mother, scout leader, PTA member. And now plumber, interior decorator, innkeeper. Never passive, never nurtured or cherished.

Even in her fantasies, she had always been the active one, making love to Pam, deriving pleasure by satisfying Pam’s needs. But the dark look in Pam’s eyes, the smile that promised such wonderful things, gave Mel the strength to let go just a little bit. Pam wanted her, wanted to take care of her.

Mel slowly lowered herself onto her back. They had shared such small touches so far, featherlight and fleeting, but her body felt as aroused as she would have expected after an hour of heavy petting.

She had been without any sexual contact for so long she worried she would overreact just to Pam’s nearness, let alone her touch. She tightened her throat, holding back a whimper as Pam licked the swell of her breast where it was revealed by the open neck of her robe.

Pam’s breath on the damp spot where her tongue had been and the barely perceptible sprinkle of salt on her chest made Mel’s nipples hard. Pam teasingly dipped her index finger in Mel’s mouth before inserting the lime wedge.

Too much. Mel felt too much to simply lie there. Accepting and responding as Pam’s tongue trailed over the rasping grains of salt.

She raised her head slightly, wanting Pam’s kiss, wanting to set the pace. But Pam’s mouth barely touched hers as she captured the lime.

How much more teasing could her body take before it shattered into a million pieces? Pam moved away, but not far, and she used her teeth to squeeze juice across Mel’s throat and between her breasts before she dropped her head to lap it up.

The shift from skimming contact to the determined pressure from Pam’s tongue and mouth as she sucked on Mel’s neck jolted her senses to full arousal. The relief of action, the promised roughness of Pam’s palm against her cheek, tore away the last of Mel’s anxiety, her struggle for control. Her fingers gripped Pam’s hair, tugging her closer still, and her body arched toward Pam’s mouth. Pam licked an errant drop from under Mel’s ear before she finally, after what seemed to Mel like an eternity of waiting, raised her head and kissed Mel fully on the lips. Mel opened her mouth to Pam’s insistent tongue, and the tastes of fruit and tequila and Pam filled her. She felt Pam shift her weight so her hips pressed into Mel’s. One of Pam’s knees slid between her legs, pressing against her, and the rasp of denim across her bare, wet lips nearly made Mel come.

Pam eased the pressure of her leg, wanting to prolong the feeling of having Mel squirming underneath her. She moved lower, impatiently yanking the belt of Mel’s robe so the knot loosened and she could move the silky material aside and expose Mel’s breasts.

Mel had been fighting without moving a muscle. Holding back. But when Pam sucked a tight nipple into her mouth, she finally felt Mel release her breath and completely let go. Mel’s moans and the audible catch in her breath turned Pam on even more, and she switched to lavish attention on Mel’s other breast. She bit her nipple lightly and felt Mel arch toward her. Pam’s belly rested between Mel’s legs, and she could feel Mel’s warmth burning into her skin, Mel’s wetness soaking through the thin layer of T-shirt between them.

Pam kissed Mel’s stomach and skimmed her hands along Mel’s sides. Her fingers roamed over the satiny robe, using the material to caress Mel’s torso and breasts before she pushed the robe away and let her bare hands repeat the movements. Mel was alive under her hands.

Mel’s rib cage rose and fell with her gasping breath, her muscles contracted, and the tiny hairs on her skin shivered at Pam’s touch.

Pam pushed back onto her knees and met Mel’s eyes. Without needing words, she asked for permission and received it before she pressed Mel’s thighs wider apart and dropped her head to taste her.

Long strokes of her tongue, and Mel’s hands were back on her head, anchoring her in place. Rapid flicks, and Mel’s legs wrapped around her in a tight hug. A firm pressure as her lips closed around Mel’s clit and sucked, and Mel’s hips rose as her orgasm took her. The tequila, only the tequila, made the room spin and tilt for Pam as Mel shuddered under her mouth with a wordless cry, her grip on Pam’s hair slackening to a gentle caress. Pam was about to slide up and take Mel in her arms, but Mel stood up instead. She looked a little wobbly on her feet, but she dropped her robe and held out her hand to Pam.

Mel wasn’t even tempted to succumb to either the alcohol or her orgasm and take a break, rest on the floor with Pam. Now it was her turn. Finally. She could smell Pam—her arousal, the scent of the ocean she brought into this room. Mel needed to taste her. She led Pam across the room, aiming in the general direction of her bed, until she bumped into it. She helped Pam pull her T-shirt off and then kissed her. The flavors of tequila and lime had been completely replaced by sex, by the taste of Mel herself, and she reluctantly stopped kissing Pam long enough to unzip her jeans and slide them down her legs.

She pushed Pam into a seated position on the edge of the bed and braced a hand on either side of Pam’s hips so she could bend down and kiss her again.

No more hesitating or teasing. Mel felt transformed, as if she had emerged from a storm. Energized. Why had she been so worried about getting her mouth on Pam? Any concern about what to do, how to do it, slipped away. She knew only Pam’s desire, her arousal. Her need to find some sort of physical and emotional release. Mel dropped to her knees and roughly pushed Pam’s legs apart. She took Pam in her mouth—the most natural thing in the world—and felt her own arousal resurface as Pam’s clit hardened under her tongue. She felt powerful as she heard Pam gasp and whimper, and when she sensed Pam had leaned back on the bed. And she felt triumphant when Pam called her name and surged against her.

She climbed onto the bed and kissed Pam, somehow managing to pull the covers back and get them between the sheets without breaking contact. Mel finally eased away with a sigh and lay back on her pillow with Pam nestled at her side. Pam slowly kissed her way along Mel’s collarbone.

“Mm, that was nice,” Mel said, her eyes closed.
Nice?
Fucking incredible. Worth the wait. Definitely worth the wait. Mel kept those thoughts inside, not wanting to frighten Pam off with any melodrama.

“You wore me out.”

“Wore you out? Are you kidding?” Pam asked between kisses.

She licked Mel’s neck where the stickiness of lime remained. “We’re just warming up.”

❖

Pam woke with Mel in her arms, sheets tangled around her legs and a growing concern her head might split in half if she moved too quickly. She took deep breaths and attempted to will the room to stop spinning around her. She wanted to get up, use the bathroom, drink some water, but she was distracted by the feel of Mel pressed against her. She usually wanted to escape as soon as possible after a night of sex. And when she planned it well enough, her getaway was drama-free because whoever she was with needed to pack and check out of her hotel. But today was different. She lay still and enjoyed the small movements Mel made as she gradually stirred awake.

Pam had never missed this part. Had never wanted to stick around and hold someone, rest her palm on a lover’s hip, bury her nose in rose-scented hair, synchronize her breathing with someone else’s. But even after a night of mind-blowing sex, these small things—with Mel—seemed so important. She didn’t need to panic.

Everything else was still the same. Pam still had a distinct, specified time to leave. Next weekend Danny would be back at the inn. And her house’s repairs should be done. Instead of the looming eleven o’clock checkout time, Pam had a few days to enjoy being with Mel. Even after hours with her the night before, Pam saw no indication they would get bored with each other physically any time soon.

If ever. Pam didn’t mind, as long as her emotions were safe.

They both wanted this kind of relationship. And they each seemed extraordinarily satisfied by the other. Mel knew some of Pam’s past and enough about her present—maybe a little more than was comfortable—so Pam no longer faced a constant struggle to protect her secret failures or pretend she was the artist everyone seemed to expect. Yes, a casual, long-term affair might work, saving Pam the trouble of seducing tourists. And, even better, sparing Mel from the bother of flirting with any single lesbian who might stay at her inn. A win-win situation. Pam snuggled closer as Mel shifted and then sat upright.

“Ouch,” Pam said, rubbing her temple where Mel’s elbow had knocked her.

“What time is it?” Mel asked frantically, reaching for her alarm clock.

“Five,” Pam said.

Mel checked the clock as if to verify Pam’s statement and then rested back against the pillows. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I have guests. I need to make breakfast. My God, I feel sick.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Pam said, resting her hand on Mel’s bare stomach.

Mel peeked at her from behind her hands and gave her a weak smile. “Good morning. And I’m sorry I hit you. Not a nice way to thank you for an amazing night.”

Pam leaned over and kissed her, trailing her hand up to cup Mel’s breast.

“Don’t start,” Mel said, sliding away and sitting on the side of the bed. “I really do need to get up and try to serve omelets without throwing up on them. As soon as the room holds still.”

❖

Mel finally had some peace and quiet in the inn when her guests went out to dinner. Time to think, as she finished cleaning her kitchen. She still wasn’t sure why she had pulled out of Pam’s arms that morning, away from her kiss, when all she’d wanted to do was stay for an encore performance of the amazing sex they’d shared. For more kisses, more exploration, more orgasms. The sex had been great, and she wanted more. Wanted to make up for those lost years. But as she had slowly regained consciousness in Pam’s arms—their breath, their bodies intertwined—she had panicked. Pam had softly nuzzled her hair, and Mel knew everything had changed. She had changed.

Her friendship with Pam had definitely changed. She needed space to figure out who she was before she fell headfirst into this new world.

Only yesterday she had started to consider the possibility of a purely sexual relationship, and suddenly she was in one. With Pam, who wasn’t prepared or willing to offer anything more.