Inn on the Edge by Gail Bridges Page A

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.

Chapter Six
     
    The next morning, Sunday, we met our fellow guests.
    But we were late. And it didn’t happen quite like we’d
expected. A rapping on the door awoke us—a very persistent rapping, peppered
with annoyingly cheerful greetings. “Good morning! Good morning! Breakfast
already started! Come on down. It’s a beautiful day at the inn! Come join us.”
    I groaned.
    “Angela! Joshua! Everyone’s waiting for you.”
    I yawned hugely. What was so important about breakfast? I
already knew Josh and I weren’t getting a prize. We’d quit the game the night
before. Who was at the door? It didn’t sound like Zenith. Maybe it was the
aforementioned Zora? I buried my head in my pillow, willing her to go away .
She didn’t. She tapped again and again, determined. I squinted in Josh’s
direction. Squinted, because light was streaming in through all those enormous
windows the old man had warned us about.
    Josh’s eyes were puffy. He turned to me, whispering, “It’s
like what—four o’clock in the morning?”
    “It’s after eleven!” called the voice. “Rise and shine!”
    “Okay! We’re coming,” I called. Then I lowered my voice.
“Zenith. Zora. What’s with the stupid ‘ Z’ names, anyway?” I stretched.
Yawned. “Does your name have to start with ‘ Z’ to work here? That’s so
screwed up.”
    “Get up! Get up!” cried our human alarm clock.
    “Zarathustra,” whispered Josh. He gave me a sleepy kiss,
then called out toward the door, “Good morning yourself! Unlock the door,
please. It’s stuck! It wouldn’t open last night.”
    “Zelda,” I whispered back.
    “Zorba.”
    “Za… Za… Zo…” I made a harrumph sound. “Dang. I can’t
think of any more.”
    He yawned. “Zoe. I win.”
    The door opened and a curly-haired blonde woman stuck her
head in. “Still in bed? My goodness, you two! I’m Zora, by the way.”
    Josh sat up, baring his naked chest. “How did you open it?”
    “This old thing?” Zora rattled the doorknob. “Don’t worry
about it. Doors around here can be temperamental. Especially when it rains.”
    “Oh,” Josh said, but he didn’t look convinced.
    I sat up too, clutching a handful of blankets to my chest.
“We don’t like being locked in,” I explained.
    “Well, it’s open now.” She closed it and opened it again.
“See? No problem. So are you getting up?”
    “We’re getting up,” I said, nodding. Then, under my breath,
“Do we have a choice?”
    “Wonderful! Don’t forget to turn off your cell phones and
leave them in the room.” The door closed.
    I stretched.
    Josh yawned.
    We were