"Jim?" Pam called from the bathroom, "Can you bring me my towel?"
"It's behind the door," Jim's faint reply was heard from the living room.
Pam groaned and sat back against the tub, letting the water splash around her body. They were supposed to be going to a Fourth of July party at Andy's house -- Jim somewhat wryly noted that perhaps it was all a gameplan to get Angela back, and Pam heard him mutter something about how Andy could sabotage the nation's birthday fireworks too, which she didn't understand. It hadn't mattered. She had only a few days left with Jim before she went back to New York, and she didn't want to spend them at Fourth of July parties in the insane heat that was still engulfing the area.
Maybe a bath was a bad idea, Pam wondered as she felt her face flush and a bead of perspiration trickle down her neck. As she brought her hand up to wipe it away, she realized she'd forgotten to wash her hair. Maybe the heat broke my brain, too.
"Do you want me to get it for you anyway?" Jim hollered.
"Oh, no. Sorry," she called back, "I'm not ready to get out yet. I forgot to wash my hair."
She began to let her hair out of the claw clasp that held it in plae on top of her head, and was startled to hear the door open. "Jim!"
"Sorry, I didn't hear you," he blushed, grinning. "It's not like I've never seen you before, you know."
Pam laughed, "Do you remember that Seinfeld episode. Sometimes naked isn't good."
Jim was standing halfway in the room, his body wedged between the door and the frame. "There's nothing bad about you naked," he drawled, his low voice resonating through the air and making the water that lapped around her thighs vibrate with its energy. She felt herself tingle.
"I beg to differ," she grinned.
"You never answered my question," Jim replied. "Did you want your towel now or not?"
"I did tell you; you just didn't hear me."
"Riiiight," Jim nodded.
"I forgot to wash my hair," she smiled teasingly as she reached up to finish pulling her hair out of the clip. "Will you close the door now, you're letting all the heat out."
"It's like four hundred degrees outside," Jim joked, stepping inside the room and shutting the door behind him. "You're the only person I know who takes a bath in a hot, humid room during a heatwave."
"Are you done insulting me?" she glanced at him through half-lidded eyes.
"Maybe," he stepped towards her and rolled up his sleeves, "But first let me help you wash your hair."
"What?" she asked, genuinely startled.
Jim grinned in that lopsided way only he could get away with, grabbed the drinking cup from beside the sink, and kneeled down beside the bathtub. "Let me wash your hair."
"Okay…," Pam replied, a little warily, as she positioned herself next to him. He brought a hand up to loose her hair, letting it tumble down her shoulders, a stark contrast against her still-pale winter skin. "I need a tan," she muttered, shrugging her shoulders inward self-consciously.
A little too self-consciously, Pam realized, as Jim put a soothing hand on the nape of her neck, against the damp curls nestled there. "Don't curl up like that," he said softly.
"Sorry," she whispered, "It's just… ."
"It's nothing," he said, smiling, "and stop saying 'sorry'."
"Sorry," she replied, then began to giggle. Jim flicked water at her with the fingertips of his free hand.
"Lean back," he instructed, and Pam did, unfolding herself to lay bare against the supportive strength of his hand, still on the back of her neck. Jim smiled down at her and shook his head. "Relax, okay?" He dipped the rim of the cup into the warm water that surrounded Pam and then then poured the water down over her hair. It felt so nice, Pam closed her eyes, still smiling.
"God, you're beautiful," she heard him say after a moment.
"Jim," she complained, opening her eyes, "I look terrible in flourescent."
"Impossible," came his reply, and one look in his eyes showed her that he meant it. He cocked his head to the side and bent down to kiss her, lifting her up to meet him. She wanted to lift her arms and wrap them around his neck, but she was sopping wet and he was still wearing his work clothes, so she resisted. But somehow he knew what she wanted to do, and using his free hand, he guided her arm around his shoulder. Breaking away for a moment, he spoke. "It's just a shirt."
Pam pressed her lips to his again and delved deeper, wrapping her other arm around his back as he held her, suspended above the water. She wondered how one person could be so terribly intoxicating -- she had never felt this way, so fervent and breathless and turned on, about anyone else before. A moan escaped her throat, smothered against their joined lips, and as Jim's tongue played with hers, she felt his hand roaming across her slick belly, diving below the water line, trying to dive between her legs. She opened her raised knees, allowing him a little access, and his fingertips wasted no time in finding her centre.
She broke away, her head lolling back as he began to massage her. He kissed her exposed throat, biting at the flesh just above her collarbone. She moaned many unintelligible words, and felt her heart begin to race. She leaned back farther until her head was resting against the tiles, and Jim released his hand from her neck, knowing she was supported by the wall. Still his lips danced across her chest and neck, playing at her jawline and nibbling at her earlobes, leaving her lips free to form the moans and ecstatic gasps that she knew would be his undoing. Finally, as he slid two long fingers deep inside of her, she heard him begin to groan against her skin, and knew he was pleasuring himself.
His own muffled moans drove her mad, but the movement of his fingers embedded so far within her and the feel of his thumb as it pressed against her clit drove her over the edge. She felt that familiar pressure building up deep behind her pelvis, and she lifted her hips out of the water, fixing the angle at which Jim's fingers were plying her, and suddenly it was as if the floodgates opened. Pam's hips began to buck; her eyes flew open and she gaped open-mouthed at the ceiling as the waves of her orgasm washed over her like the water that splashed around her body, soaking them both. Jim lifted his head, his lips crushing hers as he claimed another satisfyingly deep kiss, and as his low moan exploded from his throat, Pam knew he had reached his peak.
Her movements slowed; Jim's fingers stilled themselves between her thighs. The water lapped against her body. She felt the weight of her breasts as the water lifted them up and settled them back against her rib cage, but she was too weak to care if it wasn't the most flattering thing for Jim to witness. She had a feeling he didn't care either.
Still, Jim's mouth covered hers, his tongue still probing deep, and Pam lifted a hand to caress his face, already covered in stubble, and she slowly pulled away. "Jim Halpert, you are the most incorrigible… ."
"Shut up and kiss me," he muttered. She giggled against his mouth.
"You never did wash my hair," she muttered as she broke away for a second to speak.
Even though her eyes were closed, she knew he was grinning; she could feel his lips spread into a smile as he pecked her. "What would have rather done?" he teased.
"Like I said," she replied. "Incorrigible… ."
As Pam stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her top, she noticed the unbroken line of dark clouds on the horizon outside the window. As if on cue, Jim walked into the bedroom behind her.
"The forecast is calling for rain," he said, planting a kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "You look stunning, by the way."
"So the heatwave is over?"
"Looks like it."
Pam turned and fit herself into Jim's arms, "Too bad," she whispered. "I was kind of hoping it would last until I left."
Jim let out a chuckle, "Oh! Well, the meteorological heatwave, that's over," he bent his head to kiss her below her ear before whispering: "But the sizzling carnal heatwave? I think they're forecasting no change in that for the foreseeable future."
Pam smirked, "Is that so?"
Jim winked, stepped back, and took her by the hand. "The faster we get out of here, the faster we can get back home and I can make love to you all night long."
Pam grabbed her purse. "You're on."