"Stop it!" Taylor shouted. Frightened by the incident, it made perfect sense to her that they notify the local law enforcement of what happened. "We are not the ones committing the crime here," she exclaimed. "Now either you give me the phone or I'm going to drive to the service station and use the pay phone."
Camarin was not in the mood to argue. "Do whatever you want,"
she told Taylor. "But remember one thing. Lavender Excursions prides itself as a place where women can expect complete confidentiality. If you bring law enforcement into this, they're going to start asking a lot of questions and snooping into our business.
That's the surest way I know of scaring off clients, especially if it gets written up in the paper."
Taylor sighed, a hangdog expression on her face. Suddenly her work at Lavender Excursions didn't seem very much fun. "Okay," she muttered. "You go ahead with whatever you're doing and I'll finish cleaning up."
Camarin watched for a moment, wanting to make certain Taylor wasn't going to do something stupid when she left. But Taylor seemed resigned to the situation and was dragging cleaning supplies out from underneath the kitchen sink. "I need to run an errand,"
Camarin said. "But first I'm going to get a change of clothes from my car and take a shower at the recreation center. If you promise to behave, I'll find something for you to wear until we have a chance to wash our clothes."
Taylor scowled but nodded agreeably as Camarin started out the door. This was one of those times when she was acutely conscious of her immaturity and lack of experience. She sighed and finished gathering the cleaning supplies. Deciding to start with the kitchen, she gave vent to her childish anger and emptied the cookies into the trashcan. "So much for domesticity," she muttered.
Chapter Twelve
By the time Camarin showered and changed, she'd calmed down a little, but she still didn't feel like going back to the cabin. It was too depressing. On a whim, she decided to walk to Kimberly's cabin and return her gloves. She went to the guest register and asked for her cabin number. "Thanks," she told the clerk as she pressed a ten-dollar bill into his hand.
As she left, Camarin realized how easily someone could have gotten the cabin number for where she and Taylor were staying. If someone had a grudge, what better place to take it out than this remote section of backwoods? She made a mental note to mention it to Taryn. It might be time to have the company's private investigator do a little research on their customer database. There might be some clients worth investigating, although she couldn't imagine who it could possibly be.
She strolled very leisurely across the lobby, her eyes darting back and forth, searching for signs of a suspicious character. By the time she arrived at Mark and Kimberly's cabin, she was amused by her antics. Laughing at herself, she removed her glove and knocked on the door of their cabin.
Mark was poised over Kimberly's nude body, his penis glistening with her wetness. He growled when he heard the knocking at the front door. "Fuck!" he muttered. He thrust his penis deeply inside Kimberly one last time. "It might be Uncle Bob," he grumbled. "I better go see." He withdrew himself from Kimberly and reached for a tissue on the bedside table. After wiping Kimberly's cum from his penis, he pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt. "This better be good, Uncle Bob."
After Mark left the room, Kimberly curled herself into a tight ball on the bed. She felt so miserable and confused. She wanted to go home and curl up in her own bed with her three cats and a good book.
However, she was here and she couldn't think of a way to get out of it.
The first tear was threatening to fall when she heard Camarin's voice at the front door.
"I thought she might be needing these," Camarin explained. She dangled Kimberly's gloves in front of Mark's face. From the looks of his clothes, Camarin suspected she'd picked an opportune time to call.
When Mark reached for the gloves, she snatched them away and started into the cabin.
Stepping over so he blocked her path, Mark frowned and asked,
"What? You think I won't give them to her?"
Camarin frowned and wagged her finger back and forth in Mark's face. "Are you always so suspicious?" she asked. "I just thought we'd better make certain the gloves are hers. They look rather expensive, so if they're not hers, I'll drop them off at the lodge and hope that whoever lost them thinks to check there."
A sheepish look on his face, Mark stepped aside and motioned Camarin inside.
Acting very causal and nonplussed, Camarin strode past Mark and smiled when she saw Kimberly coming down the hallway.
"Kimberly! We were just talking about you," she said.
Kimberly smiled and walked over to Camarin. "What brings you here?" she asked, suddenly conscious of how disheveled she and Mark must look. She pressed her hands down her shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.
Camarin found it very amusing. She held Kimberly's gloves out to her. "These yours?" she asked.
"Why, yes," Kimberly replied. "I take it I must have forgotten them." She reached for the gloves, acutely aware of Camarin's hand brushing against hers.
"Maybe," Camarin teased, pausing for a moment, "you didn't forget them at all." She winked at Kimberly as though at some private joke.
Kimberly felt her cheeks blushing with embarrassment. Afraid that Mark would pick up on the sexual innuendo, she laughingly replied,
"It wouldn't work. Mark would just buy me a new pair," she said, reaching for Mark's hand. She hooked her arm through his and pulled him to her side.
Mark grinned and squeezed Kimberly's arm affectionately. "Nah, I'd just make you use my pockets to keep your hands warm," he replied, a huge smile on his face. To emphasize his point and perhaps to show Camarin that Kimberly was taken, Mark took Kimberly's hand and pressed it inside the pocket of his jeans. "There," he said, wiggling her hand deep inside the pocket. "Now we'll both stay warm."
Camarin watched the display with an air of indifference, thinking how cocky and over-impressed Mark was of himself. She had an urge to kick him in the balls and watch his damn penis go limp. As it was, he had Kimberly's hand pressed against it, making it appear that he was trying to get her to stroke it for him, right then and there. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, fixing her gaze very pointedly at Mark's groin.
"Uh, no. Of course not," Kimberly replied. She hastily removed her hand from Mark's pocket and placed it inside her own. Why was she embarrassed about another woman seeing Mark tease her this way? "You're fooling only yourself," the little voice whispered inside her head. The steady aching throb between her legs had started the minute she heard Camarin's voice at the front door. There was no denying it. For some reason, she was longing to feel this woman inside of her, making love to her, lying beside her in the bed she now shared with Mark, and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She shivered just thinking about it.
"Well, I should be going anyway," Camarin said. She made a gesture of dismissal, a polite smile on her face, as if telling Kimberly she knew her little secret and it was okay.
Kimberly did not miss the implication nor had she missed the flicker in Camarin's eyes when she saw Kimberly's hand on Mark's penis. She felt certain now that the attraction was mutual and she wanted desperately to talk to her about it. As she was turning to leave, Kimberly caught Camarin's hand. "Wait," she said. "Mark was just getting ready to go visit his uncle. Weren't you, Mark?" She rushed on, not giving Mark a chance to reply. "I planned to fix myself a cup of hot cocoa and curl up in front of the fireplace. Why don't you join me? It's the least I can do to thank you for all your trouble."
Kimberly's unexpected behavior took Mark by surprise. He was at a loss as to what he should do, but his public persona dictated. His tone very polite, he looked at Camarin and smiled. "Why, yes," he replied. "Why don't you stay for a bit and keep my girl out of trouble while I'm away. I'll drive you back to your cabin when I return. I shouldn't be gone long," he added. Mark smiled and winked at Kimberly, not noticing her wince when he referred to her as his girl.