Can’t Put Two Redheads In The Same Swimming Pool

Jake woke with a prison-cell start and rolled toward Jennifer. Her naked body, covered partially by a thin sheet and tumbles of dense auburn hair, shimmered with youthfulness and seduction. Her shape was a perfect hourglass turned on its side. She did something with time that was distant to him. He couldn’t figure her out. Trying to slip out of bed without waking her wasn’t successful. She moaned lightly, like a young angel, as he removed his 225 pound, six-three frame from the edge of the bed. She turned her classic features in his direction and opened her eyes softly. Her chocolate pupils would melt cast iron. Her expression was filled with wanting and sadness. “I’m sorry. I had too much to drink last night,” she whispered. ‘

“No problem,” Jake said, getting to his feet. He pulled his thick, shoulder-length, sandy-blond hair into a ponytail and tied it. His narrow hips held a pair of H-D boxer shorts as he reached for his Levi’s and cowboy boots.

“I won’t do it again,” she responded, shaking his head as he entered the small bathroom off her bedroom. Splashing warm water into his eyes, he thought about the fight the night before. She objected to almost anything he did that didn’t involve her. Feeling trapped, Jake stared into his bloodshot, sky-blue eyes and turned on the shower. He’d only known Jennifer for a month, but daily her hooks sunk deeper into his toughened flesh. The passion for her body was strong. They fit together well in bed, but her desire soon turned to fences, and Jake was reaching his breaking point.

“Honey, you’re not going out today, are you?” she called from the bed.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Jake said into the mirror. She didn’t hear him, but felt the vibes. When he opened the door to the bedroom she lay naked, one knee resting against the other milky thigh. A light smattering of sexy freckles was waiting to be licked clean. His eyes followed her tiny, white-chocolate feet to delicate ankles along well-defined calves to those thighs. The top half was just as delectable as the bottom. From the soft nape of her neck, hidden seductively by mounds of red curls, to her supple, up-turned breasts and those sensitive, buttermint nipples, his eyes finally came to rest on her luring lips.

“How about some breakfast,” she said. She didn’t cook, but she did part her thighs slightly. Jake felt a pain in his chest, as if his torn emotions had come to life in the form of Brahma bulls. Each one was tied to an arm and headed in opposite directions. He wanted to make her happy, not disappoint her. He also longed for her sex, but something inside was sending red flags sky high.

“I’ve got to go. In fact, this relationship is moving a tad on the fast side. I need some wind in my face,” he said, pulling up his Levi’s and pulling on his roughed-out leather jacket over tight, sinewy deltoids. He worked out five days a week, until the new relationship interrupted his regimen. A lump formed in his throat. He wanted to pull her body to his and tell her that he’d be there for her always, but he knew in the marrow of his bones that wasn’t the answer. He swallowed hard and looked into her tear-filled eyes.

“I thought we’d spend the day together,” she pleaded. “Where are you going?”

“For a ride.” Jake said as he tightened his silver conch belt. He watched her movements. She was graceful, but so damn insecure.

“Have a cup of coffee with me, and I’ll fix you some eggs.” she cajoled.

“No, relax. Stay in …”

“When will you come back?” she asked, the level of her voice elevating.

“Listen, I don’t know if this relationship is …” As much as he knew what needed to be said, her eyes, those lips, and what she was pouring out twisted his guts.

“You can’t leave. My folks are coming over for dinner tonight.” She reached for him, but he stepped back.

“I can’t help that. I’m leaving.” Jake turned abruptly heading for the bedroom door, but she was out of bed, that perfect body moving like a young doe escaping the sound of gunshots. She slipped into a mint-green satin robe and followed Jake down the hall. Blocking the stairway with her body the robe fell open. “Don’t you know I love you? I know we can make it. Please don’t break it off so soon,” she pleaded, a tear creeping down her pillow-soft cheek.

Jake looked at her hard, his heart was melting at the sight of her form, the sadness in her eyes, the perfect auburn color of her hair cascading against the soft green of the satin, the gentle curve of her breast exposed behind the hem of the robe. He was crumbling behind his rough, unshaven facade. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I just need to air out for a few hours.” He acquiesced, and her eyes softened.

“I’ll be here waiting. We can make love this afternoon, and I’ll make reservations for dinner at your favorite club,” she said, beginning to cheer up.

Jake remembered one of their first dates in town at The Ivy. She shook the glass in the joint as they entered the dining room. Everything was picture perfect-the service, her dress, and her giggle after a couple of glasses of wine.

He put his arm around her tiny waist and pulled his body against the sheerness of her robe and the warmth of her form. She melted against his side, a perfect fit. But after a long, lingering kiss, she wouldn’t let go. The tears came again. Her over-anxious behavior was the main cause for several dumpings. Her actions became more desperate with each occurrence. Even so, something in Jake’s chest told him that he could make it all right for her. On the contrary, a pang of sense shot through his brain with the message that it wasn’t his job to solve this gorgeous girl’s problems.

“Will you be home for lunch?”

“No, but I’ll call you then and let you know when I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t be too much later.”

“I won’t, I promise.” he said trying to break her grip.

She followed him to the garage and stood nearly naked next to the bike, her robe falling completely open as the garage door opened and Jake mounted his lean blockhead. His 36-year-old ‘ eyes softly poured over her 21-year-old deliciousness. He questioned his emotions. Why not stay with her? She’s beautiful, intelligent, works hard. She flashed him as he pulled his Softail into the street and disappeared around the corner. He rode for a couple of blocks and stopped to gas up. Dismounting, he leaned against the handlebars and sighed. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He started humming Love, love makes me do foolish things, as he pumped the high-test into the fatbobs. He rode for a couple of miles, then stopped in a small outdoor cafe and ordered a cup of coffee and a roll. He needed to think. Less than a year ago he had divorced a redhead, then didn’t date for nearly the entire year, then Jennifer. He could still smell her sweet fragrance, taste her warm lips, and feel angelic flesh on his fingertips. But her consuming nature was way too much. His lungs felt tight as he attempted to breathe naturally. He struggled to free his body from the wraps of her affection, yet after a year the sex was unbelievable and he wanted it to go on forever.

He got back on the bike and headed for the hills. As he rolled through the streets he thought about his last wife, the road, Jennifer, and his freedom. He rode faster, until he was splitting lanes and squealing the tires when he left traffic lights. Soon he was on the highway headed into the San Jacinto Mountains, weaving past the weekend traffic into the pine tree-strewn hillsides. The crisp mountain air swept the scent of Jennifer from his mind. His conflicting feelings included intellectually knowing the relationship was doomed, poised against the tingling in his loins and his own need for female affection, but the road was talking sense to him. He had his own insecurities about his abilities with relationships, fired by his recent divorce. Two hours later he pulled into a gas station and refueled. New constitution coursing through his blood, he picked up the receiver on the pay phone and dialed. It rang twice before she picked up.

“Jake?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.”

“When are you coming home?”

“I’m not. I need some time …”

“Where are you? I’ll come and meet you,” she said anxiously.

“Relax, Jen. I’ll see you tomorrow. I need some time to think.”

“I miss you already. I want to see you tonight. Who are you seeing? What’s her name?”

“I’m not seeing anyone. I need some time to think about us.”

“Where are you?”

“I gotta go.”

“Wait …”

He hung up and went back to the only friend he had that never saddled him with demands, except for fuel every 200 miles. Jake rode for another four hours. As the sun set over the peaks, another 2,000 feet above him, he rolled into Idyllwild, a small, picturesque mountain community. He found his favorite escape lodge and went inside. The blond receptionist looked up and her tanned face glowed. “May I help you?” she asked. She had that nonstop, healthy California look. Then she recognized him. “How are you, Jake? You need a room for the night?”

“How about a quiet room on the edge of the mountain for the rest of my life,” Jake answered.

“Bad day?”

“Maybe a bad call.”

“Huh?” she said, watching him.

“Nothing. I just need some quiet time.”

“I understand. I’ve got a great suite for you away from the crowds,” she said, handing him the key. “If there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to call.” She wasn’t only the receptionist – she owned the massive log cabin lodge and the adjacent cottages. Jake had come to know her when she took over the business and found financing for refurbishment. He was hired to handle much of the finish carpentry. He came to respect her for her tenacity and business sense. Part of his pay he took in trade, so he had a substantial credit at the inn. She was older than his last wife, and Jennifer, but she was obviously substantial in many aspects. He looked at her with respect as he signed his check-in slip.

Jake took his bedroll up to his room and unpacked. At one point he reached for the phone, then decided against it. He questioned himself, his feelings for Jennifer, and his past relationships. Confused and bewildered, Jake took a hot shower and went to the lodge for dinner. Sitting alone in the dining room, he studied the rustic architecture, the massive log beams, the rough but stylish furniture, and much of his own handiwork in the sideboards, which contained elegant white china, crystal glassware, and linens. Staring at a freshly tossed Caesar salad he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was the owner, Virginia, walking toward him with someone slightly younger in tow. She was an inch taller than the five-foot-six blonde, but her hair was brilliant and red – redder than Jennifer’s amber locks, and straighter and finer. Her eyes were bright emerald green and her frame was narrow and sleek. Jake stood, his six-foot, three-inch frame slowing their advance. The redhead was visibly impressed.

“Jake, this is an old college friend of mine, Sheila. She just moved to L.A., and came out to visit. I have to work. Would you keep her company?” Virginia asked.

“Of course. It would be my pleasure.” Jake took her hand in his and felt her warmth penetrate his calluses. Their eyes met like two magnets coming dangerously close together. The attraction was obvious.

“I can see that no more introductions are necessary. I’ve got to get back to work,” Virginia stated flatly, spinning on her heal to leave.

“Please, sit down,” Sheila said as Jake held out a seat for the shapely redhead.

Jake studied her calves, feet, hands and thighs, before settling in with her wry smile.

“Like what you see?” she said seductively.

Gazing at her slim form, he didn’t believe what was happening to him. Her shimmering dress formed a snake-like image undulating in her chair. Her feet were long and slender, following into fragile ankles and narrow, doe-like calves. Satin cupped her thighs like a second skin. “Yes, you are beautiful,” Jake said, assessing her body once again. She reached under the table and gripped his thigh. Startled, Jake jerked, then relaxed as her hand moved to his crotch.

“How hungry are you?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, why wait? We can come back for a midnight snack later.”

They got up from the table simultaneously and started for the hall. Before leaving sight of the lobby Sheila had her hand down the back of Jake’s Levi’s, grabbing harshly at his tight ass. He turned to face her in the rich corridor, and she pressed her slinkiness against his chest and lifted her face to his. He looked at her aggressiveness through jaded eyes and the tongue of a snake. He slipped his tongue gently, but forcefully, into the first of her caverns. She devoured him, her tongue a wild animal, her body blossoming against his, and her arms and legs becoming a sea of tentacles under his shirt, down his pants, and encircling his booted ankles.

He felt like he had an engagement with a vampire when they broke off. He was sapped, drained, and exhausted. She sucked him dry. The elevator doors opened. She moved against him, herding him into the elevator. Pressed up against the corner of the mirrored interior, he stretched to reach the buttons.

“Are you married?” she asked.

“No.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Active?”

Jake paused, “No.”

Sheila stepped back abruptly, “Huh? What’s wrong with you?” she asked. Jake wondered himself. He was now passing up getting laid for the second time in the same day. He couldn’t believe his own ears. His mind swam against the downward swirl of a whirlpool. He wasn’t married, engaged, or anything. He had no commitments, stated or implied, but Jennifer …

“You’re not a homo or something like that, are you?”

“No.”

“Say, how old are you?”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Jake said, his ire rising. Color flushed into his cheeks. His mustache seemed to twitch under his nose. The elevator signaled the floor.

“Must not be much in bed,” she said stepping out of the elevator. Jake caught his own image in the mirrored walls. The doors began to close. Going eyeball to eyeball with himself he realized that for almost a decade his attraction to redheads had been unrelenting. Now, in one 24-hour period, while trying to break the Jennifer spell, he fell for another scarlet bombshell. Yet he wasn’t convinced that the issue had reached an addiction level yet. Although Jennifer was making every attempt to enlist him in her corps permanently, he had not made overt steps toward any level of commitment. But, still, he was hammered with guilt. His image faded as the polished stainless steel doors closed, then something she said caught him, “Must not be much in bed.” He caught the door with one hand and shoved the stainless steel walls apart, and stepped into the hall in time to catch Sheila’s elbow spinning her into his arms. He crushed his lips against her crimson moistness. This time he took her wind. She staggered from the kiss, then stood bolt upright.

“Suppose I don’t need to ask about passion,” she said, breathing hard.

He slipped a muscular arm around her waist and pulled her hard to him as he slid the key into the door of his suite. “Not another word,” he said to her as he pulled her inside.

They awoke mid-morning, asleep in each other’s arms, in a ball of bedclothes at the foot of the king-sized bed. They made love again before they opened their eyes to the crisp morning sunlight. She left him on the floor, grabbed a robe, and disappeared into the head. Ten minutes later she bounded out of the bathroom. “I’m going to the pool,” she said, opening the robe to reveal the slinkiest bikini he’d ever laid his eyes on. “Come on down,” she said.

Jake watched her ass as she left the room before flopping onto the bed. A few minutes passed and there was a quiet knock on the door. Jennifer re-entered his consciousness. He sat bolt upright, the warm blood of lovemaking disappearing from his face. She knew that he loved this place and had credit. From pale he went directly to sweat-soaked. “Hello,” he stammered.

“Jake?” The soft voice crept through the door like smoke from the Old Witch Of The West creeps under doors to destroy all those who breathe it. Jake jumped to his feet, tossed the pillows back on the bed, grabbed a robe, and jogged to the door. Tentatively, he opened it a crack and looked into the hallway. Small feet in jet-black pointed high heels were aimed menacingly at his door. The calves associated to the shoes were shapely and slightly tanned. The skirt was official, although snug. The vest and blouse were professional. Jake’s forehead beaded with sweat, then his eyes caught the tips of blond waves. His heart was in his throat as his eyes met Virginia’s.

“What the hell?” he said.

“Thought for sure you’d need a cup of coffee and a muffin. Sheila help you relieve some of that pent-up stress?” Virginia offered.

“To say the least,” Jake said, opening the door.

Virginia left the food and said good- bye. Jake watched as she strutted efficiently down the hall. He tried to relax as he cleaned up and headed for the pool. As he closed the wood grain door to the room the phone started to ring. He paused with his hand on the knob and wondered who might be calling. It kept ringing. The options weren’t positive. He let the knob go and walked toward the pool. He felt good, but his mind was whirling with thoughts, emotions, and questions. Stepping out of the hotel into the pool area he felt the rays of the mountain sun caress his body. It felt soothing, rejuvenating, and momentarily it took his mind off of relationships. His eyes dilated as the sun blinded him. He couldn’t see the pool, but he had designed the decking with the panoramic view of the valley below, so he knew the general direction to the diving board. As his eyes began to clear he felt the heated fluid engulf his body as he dove and swam under water to the opposite end. Coming up on the other end he spun around, his back against the shallow tile, and wiped his face. Immediately, he felt the softness of a woman against his side. Lips touched his left lobe. “Surprise, baby.”

His mind froze as someone at his right grabbed his other arm, “Who’s that?” Sheila demanded. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone.”

Jake shook his head. Jennifer was already in tears on his left while Sheila was trying to twist his upper arm out of his shoulder socket. “I said I wasn’t engaged.”

“Who is she?” Jennifer demanded.

“Jennifer, this is Sheila.” Jake stood and faced them both. “Sheila this is Jennifer.”

“I thought you loved me,” Jennifer sniveled.

“Who is this bitch, and what does she mean to you?” Sheila hollered.

“Hash, it out on your own,” Jake said before diving over backward and swimming to the deep end. For Jake, either end of the pool represented the deep end.

Jennifer turned toward Sheila. “We’ve been going out for a long time.”

“He sure didn’t show it last night,” Sheila retorted, her nose in the air.

“We’re going to be married,” Jennifer suggested, trying to muster enough confidence to convince Sheila.

“Hey, if you think that I’m going to give him up, forget it,” Sheila barked at Jennifer before diving into the water and swimming toward Jake. Jake was treading water underneath the diving board. An older, balding tourist held onto the tile railing and pondered the situation. “You’re not winning a popularity contest today,” he said, watching the redheads argue.

“I broke the Code of the West,” Jake said. “You can’t put two redheads in the same swimming pool.” Both crimson beauties were swimming in his direction.

“Phone call for Jake. Phone call for Jake,” the hotel squawk box announced. “Emergency phone call for Jake!” the voice continued.

Jake pulled himself from the banks of Red Shark Lagoon as Virginia bolted from the hotel doors. “You can take the call in my office,” Virginia said, throwing a towel over Jake’s shoulders as they entered the air-conditioned interior of the hotel. As she lead him into the spacious owner’s suite Jake was distracted with the clean, simple, yet elegant layout. Her office was organized and neat. She followed him in and shut the door.

“What line is the call on?” Jake asked, reaching for the phone.

“It isn’t,” she said.

“It isn’t, what?” Jake asked, bewildered. He noticed her neat bookshelf with various books on the area, historic books on building, and books on construction. She’d done her homework for the project, and it showed in the overall handling of it and the final product.

“There isn’t a call. I could tell you needed a time-out,” she said, her back to the door, hands behind her back holding the knob against her ass, her legs crossed slightly.

“Then what do you say we go for a ride?” Jake asked.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she returned.

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