Inn on the Edge (5 page)

Joyous. Beautiful. Feral.

And fun.

How had we never experienced this?

How?

Faster and faster our bodies moved. First I, then Josh,
shouted out loud.

He collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving.

We lay panting and sweating on top of the bed, my husband
and I, our clothes scattered around the room, even his shirt and cummerbund,
feeling as if we’d just been run over by a freight train.

Five minutes passed. Neither of us moved a muscle. Or maybe
it was ten minutes.

“Holy shit,” Josh said at last.

Another few minutes passed.

I smiled. “You can say that again. Wow.”

He shifted his weight, letting himself slip out of me. Then
he draped a heavy leg over mine. He rested his index finger on my nipple. Didn’t
move it, just rested it there. He stared at me. “Angie,” he whispered slowly,
“You. Me. This.” He gazed into my eyes. “I love you so much.”

“Me too,” I answered in a voice so low it was barely
audible. “Oh god, yes.” A tear slipped down my cheek. He brushed it away,
nodding, understanding. Then he found my hand, brought it to his mouth. He
closed his eyes and held my knuckles to his lips, brushing them softly, kissing
them contentedly, nuzzling them as if they were small animals. Then licking,
sucking, nibbling. Slowly, sweetly. Like he always did after sex. It was his
thing. If he were a cat, he’d have been purring. I loved him for it.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” I whispered, watching
him.

“Me too,” he murmured. “Wife.”

“Husband.”

It grew cooler, sweat dried on our skin, and still we didn’t
move. A horn sounded from somewhere far away, somewhere out in the ocean. A
boat. On its way to China, maybe. Or Alaska. Or Hawaii. I ran the finger of my
free hand up and down the hair on his leg. “It doesn’t get any better than
this,” I said.

“Who knows? Maybe it does.”

After a while, my stomach rumbled, reminding me there was
more than one type of hunger. “I’m starving,” I whispered. I kissed him on that
sweet spot above his collarbone, the exact place I’d nuzzled a lifetime ago on
our long drive to the inn. He set my hand on the pillow and patted it, finished
for now.

“Mmm…” he said.

Maybe we wouldn’t leave tomorrow after all.

After a while, Josh and I managed to pull our lighter-than-air
bodies out of bed.

We changed into the fluffy white robes and slippers we’d
found in the bathroom, and, stomachs rumbling, we dropped into our seats at the
table. Finally we’d get to eat the lavish spread instead of using it to further
our wedding-night fantasies. We eyed each other over the mostly uneaten meal,
remembering how the evening had begun, remembering the conflicting feelings.
We’d started by thinking
this place is so weird, something is so wrong, the
owner is a pervert, we can’t wait to get out of here,
and ended with
this
is the single most wonderful experience we’ve ever had and our love life will
never be the same again. We’re staying.

Oh yes, we were staying.

“I’m keeping these,” Josh said, gathering scattered blue-and-white
cards. He tapped their edges on the table, making a neatly stacked deck. Then
he swiped an embroidered napkin from the table, shook it until the swan was
only a memory and wrapped them. “Souvenir.”

I gave him an elastic hair band to hold it all together.
“You know what? I don’t think the game will work as well if we play it at
home.”

“I don’t care.”

We piled our plates with all the food we’d been denied.
Steak. Rolls. Sautéed mushrooms. Puree of parsnip. Dainty little stacks of
fried potatoes. The largess of it! The generous platters! The succulent sauces!
How bountiful our feast! We cleared our plates, then refilled them. And still
we ate.

“Everything tastes better here, don’t you think?” Josh said,
sopping up the last of the mushroom sauce with a roll. He leaned back in his
chair, patting his stomach. “I’m going to explode.”

“Don’t do it here. Too hard to clean up,” I said, thinking I
might explode right alongside him. “Hey, why are you staring at me like that?”

He took his time answering. He fiddled with the cord on his
bathrobe. Pushed dishes around. Scratched his cheek. “Well,” he said at last,
“don’t you think it was…weird?”

“This whole thing has been weird. Every bit of it. Except
for the sex.”

“I mean…Zenith. How you looked at her. Like you wanted to
eat her up.”

Oh
that
.

My face grew hot. “Yeah. It was peculiar, all right.”

“You weren’t the only one.”

“I know. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He grew still. Closed his eyes.
His hand tapped a rhythm on the table. Then he looked at me. “I meant the old
man. Me.”

“Oh.” I stared at him. I couldn’t help myself. “
Oh!”

“When he took my hand and licked the blood from my finger,
I…” He shuddered. “I…”

“It’s okay. You weren’t yourself.”

“It’s gross!
He’s
gross.”

We searched each other’s eyes. Things were going on here
that we didn’t understand. Things that we didn’t want to understand. “He
is
gross,” I said after a minute. “And just so you know, I felt it too, when he
was arranging my hair for the pictures. Ick.”

Josh laughed. “Good! At least I’m not the only one.”

“It must be something in the air.”

“Or the food.”

But we hadn’t yet had anything to eat when we met the old
man.

“Hey,” I said, shrugging, “we’re done here. Let’s get rid of
the table. Help me shove it into the hallway, will you? It’s on wheels.”

He heaved himself out of his chair. “Fine. But I’m warning
you. One wrong move and I’ll tip over. You’ll have to roll me across the floor.
I’m that full.”

But the door wouldn’t open. I shoved and pushed and it still
wouldn’t open. I found the room key and tried it in the lock. It didn’t work.
Then I stood between the stuck door and the table full of dirty dishes,
baffled, unsure what to do. This was not good—not good at all.

“Here, let me try,” said Josh, frowning. He snatched the key
from me and jammed it into the lock. It didn’t turn. Josh turned to me. “What
the hell, Angie?”

I gave a helpless shrug, biting my lip.

“We’re locked in!”

“It’s just stuck.”

“Well then, I’ll unstick it!” Josh raided the table,
grabbing whatever might be of use. He banged on the doorknob with a
candlestick, jimmied the lock with the tine of a fork and slid a butter knife
between the door and the molding to poke at the lever. Nothing helped. The lock
didn’t turn. The door didn’t budge.

“You’d better stop before we damage the door,” I said.

“Then you do something! Call that old geezer.”

I dialed the front desk. It rang and rang. “They’re not
answering.”

Josh threw his makeshift tools back onto the table. “Now
what do we do?”

“Someone will let us out in the morning.”

“But it’s not morning! What kind of monkey house is this?
We’re locked in—I hate that!”

“I know,” I said softly.

Josh didn’t like locks, didn’t like being shut in, didn’t
like small enclosed spaces. I figured it was a mild form of claustrophobia, but
I don’t really know about those things. He’s been that way since the day I’d
met him. It was something I’d got used to, going around after him locking
things. The front door of our house. The windows. The chain on his bicycle. I
was the one who locked the car, who made sure to beep it when we left it in a
parking lot. I was the one who slipped the suitcase keys onto my key ring—and
used them. After our years together, I barely noticed anymore. I knew how to
deal with it. But this was different. Unexpected. A little frightening.

“We’re locked in!” he said, his voice rising.

“I know, sweetie.” I put my hand on his arm. “But you’re not
alone. I’m here too. Let’s do something to get your mind off it. Umm…how about
a shower?”

“A shower?”

“You’ll feel better.”

Still turned away from me, he kicked halfheartedly at the
door. It was more of a nudge than anything, his slipper-clad toes barely making
a sound. The door didn’t even rattle.

Good. He was calming down. I waited.

After a moment his eyes flicked from me to the door, then
back again. He looked mildly embarrassed. “It’s just that it makes me nervous,
to be shut in here with no way out.”

“I know it does. We’ll be fine.”

“There could be an emergency.” It almost sounded like a
question.

I laughed. “Yeah. One of us could spontaneously combust.”

Sheepishly, he turned toward me. He held out his arms. “That
would count as an emergency for sure.”

“So would too much sex,” I said, finding the ties of his
bathrobe. I tugged and the soft terrycloth fell apart, revealing a long expanse
of lovely skin and muscle, all lightly covered with fine, soft hair. The nicest
view I’d seen all day. I tore my eyes away and looked questioningly at him. I
saw that he was almost the old Josh again—my happy, carefree Josh. “Are you
okay? All better now?”

He nodded. His breath slowed. His color, little by little,
returned to normal.

“That’s good.” I kissed him. “Because I have something for
you.”

He smiled, his eyes telling me that he wanted what I had to
give. Very much so.

It was all I needed. Shivering with pleasure, I ran my palms
slowly down his chest, his stomach, his hips. I carefully avoided any pitfalls,
such as nipples. Or the growing erection between his legs. Definitely the
erection. I wouldn’t want to set off a dangerous chain reaction, now would I?

I opened my own bathrobe. “I’ve heard too much sex can be
harmful to the health,” I whispered, stepping into the warm envelope of his
body, pressing myself against him.

“Is that right?”

“You smell good,” I said, sniffing long and deep. “Yummy.
And yes. Sex sends people to the hospital all the time. So we’d better not do
anything that could hurt us. The emergency rescue people couldn’t get in here,
now could they? We have to think about these things.” I put my hand flat in the
middle of his stomach. I considered my next move. “Fondling your dick might
lead to something dangerous, you know. It’s like a gateway drug—hazardous to
the health. But surely I can do
this
?” I rubbed myself against his
already hard cock.

“God yes. You can do that.”

“How about
this
?” I pressed my hand over him. Then I
squeezed. He shuddered and his bathrobe fell to the floor.

“Yes! Yes!”

“And all
this
?” I massaged it and pushed on it and
kneaded it and worked it with my hands. “Doing okay there?” I whispered after a
good few minutes. “No signs of sudden sexual collapse?”

He sucked in his breath. “No, none.”

“But I’ve heard you shouldn’t swim for an entire hour after
eating,” I said, taking my hands from him. “At least an hour. Maybe the same is
true for sex. Perhaps we should stop.”

“That’s a bullshit old wives’ tale.”

“Oh dear. We just ate,” I said, shaking my head.

He fingered my breasts. “We’ll be extra careful then, yes?”

“I suppose.”

He pulled on my nipples. Kissed my neck, my shoulder, the
tender place below my ear. He drew me close, his erection poking me.

I thought my legs might give way, they were shaking so hard.

“Watch how careful I can be.” Holding me tightly around the
waist, our bellies together, he leaned his back against the door that had so
vexed him only a few minutes earlier. He nudged my legs apart, arranging them
on either side of his own. Standing sex. When had we last had standing sex? Had
we
ever
…? Slowly, he slid his back down the door, an inch, two inches,
three, until he was at exactly the right angle. The tip of his cock nudged my
cleft. An impressive feat of athleticism. “See?” he said, “I’m being so very, very
cautious.”

“Ohhh! Maybe can you be cautious…a little faster?”

“Absolutely not. A master takes his time.”

He was paying me back. Well then, let him. His fingers
slowly followed my curves, walking around my back, over my butt, between my
legs and down, down, down.

I gasped.

Then
in
.

I moaned.

He played inside me, his fingers exploring my warm depths.
“It feels different like this,” he breathed.

“Yes, yes! It
does
.”

“Deeper somehow.”

I threw back my head, shuddering. Oh yes, it
was
deeper. Way deeper. He bent his knees another inch, thighs trembling, giving
his hand even more leverage. His fingers moved in me, farther inside me than
I’d ever felt them before. I sucked in my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, my
lips parted. Then he found my breast with his mouth and began to suck.

I shrieked, trying to muffle the sound on the top of Josh’s
head. Then I thought,
what the hell
, and I yelled out loud for all to
hear, broadcasting my passion.

“Shit, Angie,” panted Josh. “You almost made me come!”

We were both taut, every muscle straining.

“Now,” I said between gasps. “Josh! Now!”

His fingers slid away. Suppressing a moan, he grabbed my
butt cheeks and kneaded them so hard in his strong hands that it should have
hurt. Should have but didn’t. And then his hands and my hands were at his
erection, guiding it, helping it, bringing it to me, to the place it belonged.
His cock pressed against my cunt, and I thought I would melt from the pleasure
of it.

“Angie,” he said.

In one smooth motion, he was inside me.

“Josh.” I looked into his eyes, his sexy eyes, those
gorgeous Ultramarine Blue eyes that sparkled with flecks of purest Quinacridone
Gold, but only when we made love.

“Angie,” he whispered again, loving me. “Angie. Oh Angie…”

“You’re just a scaredy-cat,” I said, riding his thrusts,
“letting that little-bitty door get the better of you.”

His hands circled my waist, keeping our hips together. “And
you’re just a show-off. Trying to act so brave and all.” His eyes screwed shut.
“Oh my
god
, Angie… Oh my god!”

We fell silent for a moment, just fucking the daylights out
of each other.

It was wonderful. Just wonderful.

“You are brave, you know,” he said.

“I am not.”

“You
are
.”

“No,” I said, meeting his every thrust with my own.
Something was rising in me, a pool of molten lava. I was so close to coming. “No,
not brave. If you ever saw me frightened…you’d know…” I was finding it hard to
talk between gasps, “You’d know…how fast I can fall apart…” I sucked in my
breath. “Oh! Oh!
Oh!
”

We moved together in a beautiful dance, joined body and
soul. And then we were spirited away, first me, then him, by orgasmic rushes
that left us panting and weak-kneed, slumped against the door.

Do I need to say again how marvelous it was? Because it was.

After a while my heart slowed. I brushed hair from my mouth.
I touched Josh’s cheek. He opened his eyes and smiled. The golden flecks were
gone. He found my hand and sucked on my knuckles, like a baby, my darling Josh.

“Somehow I doubt that,” he said, his words wet and slippery.
“I don’t think you’d fall apart at all.”

“I love you,” I said.

“Angie,” he said. He kissed me.