Satin Sheets

(November, 1998, immediately after Miller’s Bluff)

“You know, we have a bit of a problem.”  Alan said casually.  He pulled back onto the road as Mel pulled a lipstick out of her bag and reapplied her makeup. 

“What’s that?”

“Well, we’re headed toward Austin, but our plane tickets aren’t until Sunday.”

Melissa stopped still, lipstick in her hand, mouth opened in a round ‘O’ and turned to him slowly.  Then she blinked.  “I am such an idiot.  Today’s Friday.  It’s a long weekend.”  She put her hands over here eyes and leaned forward, feeling almost physically ill. “Oh Alan, I’m so sorry.  This weekend’s just gone horribly wrong.”

Alan put his hand on her shoulder.  “Hey, come on love.  It’s not that bad.  I thought we were past that.”

She put her hand over top of his and sat up, determined not to cry.  “You’re right.  I am.”  She took a deep breath and sat straight. “I swear the more I’m around my father, the more brain cells I lose.”  She shook her head to clear the cobwebs.

“Think we could get our tickets changed?  We could go to my place in Houston for the weekend.”

“Chances of actually getting a flight any time this weekend are slim.  Everything will be booked solid.”  They passed a mileage sign stating the distance from Fredricksburg, just a few miles, and San Antonio.  “There’s a thought.”

“What’s that?”

“How about San Antonio?”

“Been in and out of the Air Force Base, but never any closer.”

“There’s a wonderful place near the River Walk called The Painted Lady.” 

“Sounds like fun.”  Alan grinned and gave her a wink. “Just give me directions.”

Melissa pointed ahead of her.  “Straight down this road, flyboy.  I’ll give them a call and see what they have available.”  She reached into her purse for her phone.

“Mel, you know, if the room has you in it, I’m perfectly happy at a Motel 6.”

She smiled and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Alan gave her a push, not at all certain whether she was teasing or not. 

“But you haven’t seen The Painted Lady.”

She dialed information and was quickly connected with the Bed and Breakfast.  Once she identified herself she spoke as if to an old friend.  Alan was beginning to learn that Melissa knew everyone.

“I don’t suppose the Amelia Earhart suite is available?”  She asked.  She frowned at the answer.  “Well, my guy is a pilot, that’s why I asked.  I suppose I should be grateful if you have a little attic room since I’m calling at the last minute like this.”  She laughed and raised an eyebrow.  “Oscar Wilde or Truman Capote?”

All Alan knew about either Wilde or Capote was that they were gay writers.  Not that he had anything against gays, but he was beginning to think a Holiday Inn, or even some fleabag hotel would be fine.

“I think the Truman Capote would be lovely.  We’ll be there in, oh, about two hours or so.  Thanks so much.”  She closed her phone and smiled at him.

“Well, that’s settled, flyboy.  I think we’re going to have a wonderful weekend.”  She gave him a smile and a wink that made him feel warm all over and suddenly he was looking forward to the weekend.

Melissa never hesitated with the directions and Alan drove straight to the place.  It was an impressive looking two story building with ornate columns behind a wrought iron fence.  There were deep porches on the first and second floor with ceiling fans.  Melissa headed inside to the front desk while Alan got their bags from the trunk. 

A gray tabby cat sat crouched by the front door.  He wasn’t a handsome cat, his ear was ragged from a past fight and he had a wary look in his eye.  As Alan approached the door he held his ground.  Alan leaned down and held out his hand for the cat to inspect.  The cat paused, sniffed, then bumped Alan’s knuckles in approval.  Alan took that as permission and cautiously scratched the cat behind the ear.  The cat allowed this for a moment, then stood and stretched.

Alan straightened and reached for the door knob.  The minute the door opened, the cat dashed inside.  Alan wasn’t sure if the cat were allowed inside, but decided that the cat seemed to know what he was doing.  A young man appeared in the doorway. 

“Can I help you with those bags, sir?”

“Thanks, mate.  My lady is checking in over there.”  He nodded to the front desk where Melissa was leaning over the desk, chatting easily with the desk clerk. 

“Yes sir.  I believe you’ll be in the Truman Capote room.  Just a moment and I’ll check.”

The bellman headed for the desk.  Alan looked around and saw a well appointed lobby with substantial furniture.  The place was light and airy and looked comfortable.  He liked it already.  There was a stack of brochures lying on the desk.  He picked one up and opened to see a list of amenities offered by the place.  As he scanned the list, one caught his eye:  chocolate dipped strawberries.  He already knew Mel well enough to know her passion for chocolate.  Votive candles?  What were those for?  He looked up to see the cat pacing back and forth by a dark oak door on the other side of the front desk.

The bellman appeared at his elbow again.

“Oh, I feel I ought to tell you.  I let your cat in when I walked in.”

“Old Tom?  He’s not really ours, just a character from the neighborhood.  The cook always saves any leftover cream for him after breakfast.  He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Looks like he’s seen a good deal of action.”

“He’s his own cat.”

The door behind the cat opened and the cat dashed through.  He obviously knew his way around.

“Tell me about these votive candles?”  Alan said quietly, pointing them out in the brochure.  Melissa was laughing at something the desk clerk said.  She glanced over and winked at Alan, but hadn’t headed their way yet.

“Oh, you light them and use them around the tub.  Your room has one of the nicest jaccuzi tubs.  It’s very romantic.  Would you like me to set some up for you this evening?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.  How about a dozen of them?  And a dozen of those strawberries too.”

Mel was walking toward them.  Alan tossed the flyer back on the table and the bellman nodded.  “I’ll take care of it,” he said softly. 

Alan and Mel followed him upstairs to the Truman Capote suite.  The door opened into a large bedroom done in soothing yellows.  The furniture was dark oak and massive.  The woodwork was all white and clean.  The antique bed had a blue patterned antique bedspread.  There was a set of double doors into another large room and Alan could see a desk, a fireplace, and something in the center of the room that he didn’t recognize at first.  A bathtub?  By the fireplace? 

It was a bathtub by the fireplace.  Big enough for two.  He glanced at Melissa who gave him a wink.  The porter vanished and Melissa sat on the side of the bed.  “Well, what do you think?”

“Very posh,”  Alan commented.  “Very you.”

“Oh?  Melissa asked.  “How so?”

Alan moved over in front of her and pulled her into his arms.  “Very elegant.  Nothing but the best for you.”

Melissa smiled and kissed him softly. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘elegant’ before.”

“Then they’re all daft.”  He kissed her again. 

He was deepening the kiss when his stomach growled.  Melissa pulled back and looked at him.  “Have we eaten anything today?”

“Hmm.  Not that I can recall.”

She pulled away and headed for her suitcase.  “Let me change shoes and we’ll head over to the Riverwalk. There are some terrific Mexican restaurants there.”

They strolled along the riverwalk for a while, enjoying the Christmas decorations that were already up.  Mel pointed out a small restaurant ahead of them and said,  “How do you feel about Polynesian? 

Alan grinned.  “And here I thought you’d offer me Mexican, or Tex-Mex at least.”

“How tourista,” Mel said with a laugh.  I can find us good Mexican if you’d rather.  But Miguel’s ribs should not be missed.”

“Miguel?  Doesn’t sound very Polynesian to me.”

“He grew up here at Miller’s Bluff, actually.  His mom is Maggie.  You met her.”

“Your mom’s friend?  Or is she her housekeeper?  I couldn’t quite figure that relationship out.”

“Mom and Maggie grew up together.  Maggie’s mom was my Grandmother’s housekeeper.  Grandma and Abuelita – that’s what we all called Maggie’s mom – trained Maggie to take over, which she did about the time Mom went off to college.  So their relationship is complex.  On some ranches there’s still a lot of Patron/peasant sentiment.  But Mom is more than her employer.  They’re sisters of the heart, best friends, confidants.  They shared a playpen together, were in each other’s weddings and raised us kids together, Miguel and his sisters and brother, me and Helena.”  Mel smiled and shared her though.  “I expect there were some fireworks over Maggie being in Mom’s wedding.  Grandma would have expected her to work.  But I’ve seen the pictures.  There’s mom and her sorority sisters and Maggie all smiling for the camera.  Grandma was very old-school – and rather imperious about it too.” 

Melissa made a gesture and Alan looked at the building next to them.  A neon sign declared the place to be the Fiji Feast.  They stepped inside to bamboo flooring, teak booths with red cushions and the smell of wonderful food.  A dark woman with long shiny black hair gave a polite smile of welcome, then recognized Melissa and embraced her with a shriek.  Mel hugged her back with equal enthusiasm, then the woman took them both by the hand and led them to the back of the restaurant.

“Miguel!  Miguel come see who’s here!” She called.

A tall lean Hispanic man stepped from the kitchen.  His eyes widened and he grinned.  “I don’t believe it.”  He put an arm around Melissa and kissed her cheek, then turned and held out his hand. “And you must be Alan.  I’m impressed.  You must have the biggest cojones on the planet.”

Alan shook the man’s hand. “I’m Alan, but I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

The woman looked him up and down and ushered them to a round table at the back of the restaurant.  She and Miguel sat with them.  “Standing up to Dr. T like that and living to tell about it.  That man is seriously scary.”

Alan realized they were talking about the incident this morning that led them to San Antonio this afternoon.  “You’ve already heard…”

Melissa rolled her eyes.  “Of course.  I told you Miguel is Maggie’s son.”

“Mama called Contessa, who called Pedro’s wife Estelle over in Austin and she called Yasmin.” Miguel gestured to the woman next to him. 

“Yes.  So now you have to give us all the gory details,” Yasmin added.

“Only if you feed us.  We’re starved,” Melissa bargained.  She turned and winked at Alan and added, “We worked up an appetite today.”

Miguel set things into motion and plenty of food and drink arrived.  Yasmin sat where she could see the door and she came and went greeting and seating newcomers and running the cash register.  By the time Alan had downed a few beers and was stuffed with the best ribs he’d ever had he found that he could laugh at the situation they had found themselves in this morning.

Miguel and Yasmin made them feel like members of the family.  Alan was beginning to realize that Melissa was at home just about anywhere – with the possible exception of near her father.  When the meal was over and Alan reached for his wallet Miguel stoped him.  “It’s all paid.  Her Abuelo – grandfather – he was a good man.  When no bank would give me a loan to start this business, he loaned me the money himself.”

Yasmin looked at her husband with pride.  “Miguel paid him back with interest and in half the arranged time.”

“Mainly because the old doctor constantly sent business my way.”

Melissa shook her head. “Don’t be so modest.  He may have sent you some business, but your cooking kept them coming back.”

Yasmin looked out the window.  “Miguel, take them back to their hotel, it looks like rain.”

Mel and Alan assured them that wasn’t necessary, but said their goodbyes and left quickly, heading out into the night.

By the time they reached the Painted Lady, the wind was picking up.  A cold front was moving through and heavy clouds were lit by the city lights, looking menacing.  Alan caught the eye of the porter in the lobby who slipped into the stair well by the desk.  Alan and Melissa took the slow antiquated elevator.  They were in no hurry.  Alan put his arms around her and she relaxed into a long slow kiss that lasted until the elevator creaked to a halt.  They held hands down the hallway and when Alan opened the door, Melissa stepped inside and gave a gasp of surprise.  The tub was ringed by softly glowing candles in front of the lit fireplace.  A silver tray on the rim of the tub held a half dozen chocolate dipped strawberries.

“How did you—“

“I have my ways.  I thought you needed a relaxing evening.  How about letting me scrub your back?”

“Just my back,”  Melissa asked.

“We’ll start there.”

They slid into the warm water together and Alan fed her strawberries, one by one, then gently massaged her back.  She melted against him and he planted kisses down her neck, enjoying the view of her bare breasts just breaking the surface of the water.  His hands slid up to caress them, lifting them so that the nipples broke the surface.  They tightened as his fingers played across them.  She held still for a while and let him play, her passion rising.  Finally she moaed and turned around, straddling him.

He was fully aroused and she took him quickly inside her, hands on his chest, kissing him deeply.  They remained still for a moment, savoring the kiss and the feel of their bodies joined together.  She set a slow and steady pace that began to quicken with the beat of their hearts.

The water began to slosh back and forth in the tub.  Melissa pulled back and stopped moving.  They grinned at each other. 

“Let’s continue this on the bed,” Melissa suggested.  “Or one of us may drown.”

At his nod, she pulled off of him.  Neither had climaxed yet and he ached for her immediately.  They toweled each other off in large fluffy towels hanging on a rack near the fire and Alan wrapped a large robe around her shoulders to keep her warm.  Lightening lit up the darkened bedroom.

“That front’s finally gotten here,” Melissa glanced out the window. 

“Good night to be in a warm bed,” Alan suggested. 

Melissa smiled and took his hand.  As lightening lit the room again she pulled back the covers and in a graceful move dropped the robe, turned and lay back on the bed.  “Mmm,” she said, her hand moving over the bed.  “Satin sheets.”

“Mmmm, satin,” he echoed, crawling onto the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thigh.  “Nothing but the best.”  His tongue lingered on a particularly sensitive spot and she gasped.  “And you’re the best.”

“Flatterer.”

He slid inside her as if they were made for each other.  She was as eager as him.  Their climax was fast and explosive and he melted into the sheets beside her, suddenly completely exhausted from the day’s emotional and physical exertions and completely relaxed.  Melissa curled around him, dropping quickly off to sleep herself with a sigh, softly murmuring one word.  “Safe…”

It wasn’t the rain itself that woke him.  The soft roar of the rainstorm had insinuated itself into his dreams as the wite noise of the Eagle’s well-tuned engine vibrating throughout the frame.

“Merow –“

The sound came again, completely out of place on an Eagle—or in their luxurious hotel room.  He was instantly wide awake and aware of his surroundings as only one who has lived through danger can be.  He had fought in the war, been under attack, known how to be alert to the enemy – but this wasn’t some flashback.

Melissa lay curled beside him in the big bed.  Her blonde hair sprayed across the pillow, her hands tucked under her chin with child-like innocence.  Her nose just touched his shoulder and her breath was warm against his bare skin.

There was a  thump and another “Meroww –“

He turned his head and triangulated the sound to the window.  A shadow pressed against the glass.  A cat-shaped shadow.  Moving slowly so he didn’t disturb Mel, he slid out of bed.  Rain pounded against the window and he opened it, held out an arm to the cat on the window sill who jumped to him willingly and closed the window quickly.

The cat shivered, wet and cold against his bare chest.  Alan found a discarded towel and dried them both.

The gas fire still burned in the grate and Alan carried the shivering animal there, patting him dry and murmuring comforting noises.  Soon both were warm and dry again and Alan set the cat on the towel in front of the hearth.  The cat remained curled on the hearth watching as the man made his way back to bed.  He had barely settled under the covers again, still warm from his presence, when he felt the light impact of the cat landing at the foot of the bed.  Alan considered a moment.  He could get up again and put the cat out in the hall – the only way to ensure the cat wouldn’t return to the bed—but he’d have to find clothes, at least a robe, and he’d have to leave the warm comfortable bed again.  He began to drowse without coming to a decision and Mel turned, snuggling bare bottom against his bare hip.  To hell with it, he decided, turning toward her.  He hoped she wasn’t allergic to cats.  All the room’s occupants succumbed to deep sleep.

Morning arousal slid into his consciousness.  His hands moved over Mel’s warm, willing body and she turned toward him.  They moved slowly against each other.  They weren’t in any hurry.  His eyes weren’t open yet and he didn’t see the sparks pop across the satin sheets with their movement.  When he rolled atop her and knelt above her, the sheets, silky and slick, slid off him, exposing bare skin.  Both the warmth below him and the cool air above were pleasantly comfortable and he increased his momentum.  Melissa moaned below him, encouraging him, their arousal a feedback loop racing to crescendo.

“Yes, Yes! YES!” she called.

Perhaps if the sheets were not quite as slippery smooth her knee wouldn’t have slipped out from under him.  Perhaps if he hadn’t taken pity on a stray cat in a rain storm it wouldn’t have taken its place at the foot of the bed.  Perhaps if a cold front hadn’t pushed cold air across Central Texas during the night there would have been less static electricity.

Unfortunately, all those things happened.

Melissa, half sitting up in the throes of her orgasm, eyes wide open, had a front row seat.

As Alan’s knee slipped, his bare foot brushed the cat which was still curled at the foot of the bed.  Sparks flew, illuminating the dark room briefly.  The cat reacted to this rude awakening immediately and leaped straight up like the Road Runner in an old cartoon.  His angle of trajectory sent him straight at Alan’s bare backside, claws out.  He scrambled for purchase, leaving a series of holes in soft flesh before caroming off the bed and around the circumference of the bedroom howling indignantly.

The cat’s howls blended with Alan’s own, shifting quickly from moans of intimate ecstasy through surprise to pain.  They began to include some very creative invective as he pulled out of Melissa and turned to search for his attacker.

At his quick turn, the smooth sheets sent him shooting off the bed in the other direction to land in an undignified heap on the floor.

Melissa was up on hands and knees in a heartbeat, looking over the edge of the bed.  “Are you all right?  Where did that cat come from?”

The cat had come to a halt in a corner of the room looking indignant at having its rest disturbed.

Alan sat up slowly, checking for injury as he did so.  He rubbed his temple.  “No permanent damage.  The cat was on the window ledge outside in the rain.  I let him in and dried him off in front of the fire.

“You did?  When?”

“A little after two.  You were soundly asleep.  I left the cat curled up in front of the fireplace.”

“He must have decided to join us in the bed.”

“Must have.  Then when we started making love I think I slipped and kicked him.”

Mel slid off the bed and knelt next to Alan  She gently touched the side of his head where a knot was already rising.  Alan marveled that even in these circumstances, she turned him on.

She could feel it too and leaned forward.  As her lipes brushed gently against his temple, her tightened nipple brushed against his arm.  He wanted her.  Right now.  Here on the floor.  She pulled back and winked at him.

“Hold that thought.”

She stood gracefully and moved toward the cat.  “Come on, Puss.  I’m sure there’s a saucer of milk with your name on it downstairs.”  She moved slowly, fluidly, talking softly and reassuringly.  Alan sat still and watched.  He would follow her anywhere.  Obviously the cat felt the same way and allowed her to approach, gather him up in her arms and carry him to the door.  She opened the door just enough to reach around and set the cat gently out the door.  As the cat scampered away she moved the “Do Not Disturb” tag from the inside of the doorknob to the outside.

Mel tended his wounds and they spent most of Saturday in bed.  They ordered Chinese Takeout and didn’t leave the room.  The next morning they left early to return the rental car and catch their separate flights.

They stood wound together near the gate for her flight, oblivious of the other passengers around them.

“Travelling with you is an adventure.”  Alan murmured against her lips.

“Always,” she smiled. “You going home for Christmas?”

“Not enough time.  I’ll be back and forth to Alpha all month, but I have the week between Christmas and New Year’s off.  You coming out here?”

Mel shook her head. “I’ve paid my dues for the year.  I was thinking of Key West.  Fell like a sail?”

“Sail to the Keys with you?  Sounds like paradise.”

The PA system called for first class passengers.  Mel’s eyes flickered to the line and she pressed her lips against his.  His hands moved up and down her body.  She pulled back reluctantly and winked at him. “Save that thought.”

“Until Christmas.”  He said reluctantly.

She ran a finger across his lips and walked to the gate.  Short skirt an dheeled sandals showing off her legs to advantage.  As her ticket was scanned and she disappeared into the tunnel, she wiggled her hips, just for him.

Alan sighed and shouldered his jump bag.  “Give me strength.”

View My Stats