The Bed and Breakfast

The Bed and Breakfast

By Matilda Meyerson

Male and FemaleContemporaryJalapeño Pepper

I’d been staying in a restored vintage trailer at the Vashon Island Glamping Bed and Breakfast Inn for six months, on assignment with the FBI, to investigate an illegal import scheme that we thought was based on the island. I’d found very little evidence for a crime syndicate, but I was falling in love with the inn owner, based on her blueberry scones alone. The problem was, I didn’t really have great moves and hanging around her, helping her to harvest organic fruits and vegetables from her gardens, or talking to her while she baked, hadn’t resulted in any romantic action.

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Her hands pulled my shirt from my trousers and started ripping it apart at the buttons. They popped and went flying. I didn’t care. I had dozens of FBI uniform shirts just like it and I had a fleeting thought that my lack of style was finally paying off. She could ruin as many as she wanted. Her hands roamed my naked torso and from her moans I guessed she liked what she found. I felt her start to unbuckle my belt and I knew then my hours in her kitchen had paid off. I guess asking and caring about the age of buttermilk could be sexy.

The Bed and Breakfast
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