Part 3 (1/2)

”Bibita?”

”I don't speak Italian.”

”Bibita,” Carmella said again, and Wendy stopped to give her an even more annoyed look. Carmella mimed drinking and gestured toward the bar.

”No,” Wendy said. ”I've had too much.” Carmella raised her hands helplessly, so Wendy put a hand to her head. ”I'm going to bed.”

”Scorta.” Carmella gestured at the exit and offered her arm. ”Escort?”

”I don't need-” What if the crazy woman was lurking outside, she thought. She could at least get safe pa.s.sage out of the line of fire. She tucked her hand under Carmella's arm and accepted the gentle guidance to the exit.

Just the other side of the door was Sophia and her no longer angry girlfriend. At least Wendy presumed she was no longer angry because her skirt was up and Sophia's hand was down. They didn't even notice Wendy going by. She wondered if they did that little scene all the time because the make up s.e.x was hot.

Which would be pretty twisted, Wendy thought. She was glad of Carmella's arm.

”You know,” she said for no reason at all, except that walking in silence seemed bizarre. ”It's the first night of my vacation, and it didn't have to end quite so c.r.a.ppily. I know I won this trip for me and Brittany, but just because it was free doesn't mean I shouldn't have fun. Brittany couldn't believe it when one of our choices for the cruise was this one. Chain Maille, and we'd be within feet of them. Maybe even seated near them at dinner. Run into them at the pool or something.”

They descended a flight of stairs. Carmella made the gesture of putting a key in a lock, and Wendy dug in her purse for the cabin key. Carmella examined it, gave it back and turned them toward aft.

”I know that being a groupie isn't a long-term life choice. I've only got one more year of college and then I won't be able to do this anymore. I'll have an interns.h.i.+p to finish and all that s.h.i.+t. We could have dug on Melissa, you know. We were just looking for something fun to do on our vacations. Then we get here and my best friend dumps me in the bar.”

With Carmella leading the way Wendy didn't have to worry about finding the correct stairs. She was still completely turned around. The s.h.i.+p was beautiful and all that, but every time she went up or down a deck she lost her sense of which way was which.

”I mean this is a drag. I came on this trip to be wild and crazy, and I was well on my way to a one-night stand with a perfect stranger. But no. No, I have to pick a perfect stranger with a jealous girlfriend.”

They encountered no one as they strolled the Via Condotti. It really was a lovely s.h.i.+p, and while Wendy had no real sense of what an Italian villa might look like, she was willing to accept this was a good facsimile, if Italian villas had casinos and shopping concourses. The sculptures of Medusa that circled the atrium on every floor were awesome.

She paused to look more closely at one of them. ”Personally, I think Medusa was just having a bad hair life. She didn't want to be conventional and ends up getting her head cut off by some jerk on his own hero quest. It's really kind of sick that a lot of the hero stories in great literature include at least one instance where the dude earns his dudeness by killing a woman.”

Carmella was listening politely when Wendy glanced at her. She couldn't have been even five years older than Wendy was, and Wendy had no idea what the two thin blue stripes on her sleeves meant.

”You don't understand a thing I'm saying.” Not quite against her will she smiled at the woman. ”But you're cute.”

Her smile was returned, and Wendy felt a lot better. Carmella's gaze did a slow, suggestive glide down Wendy's front, and Wendy thought maybe the bikini wax and Wonder bra weren't a total write-off. Jesus, could it be that women in uniform were just about as attractive as heavy metal guitarists? It was a heretical thought, but at the moment the reality more likely to result in fun before sunrise.

She turned toward the shops. ”I can't really afford any of the clothes down here, but that little pink number there is a wow. I mean I can picture myself putting it on and then some wonderful woman peeling it back off me. But with my luck, I'd be getting myself out of my clothes one more time.”

She paused for a moment to give the pink halter dress a long look. No doubt about it, her nipple rings would show and that would look pretty d.a.m.ned hot. It probably cost a semester's tuition. ”Don't you think a girl ought to get some action if she wants some? On a s.h.i.+p full of women who like just what she does? I guess I don't really have much to complain about, though. I'm here for free. I'll get to see my favorite band in concert all week. So what if I can't find someone to hold me down and do me until we both scream? Even if I haven't been with anyone in almost six months.” She sighed. ”Bad breakup. Never date the ex of an ex. That's just asking to get double-f.u.c.ked, and not in the good way.”

Carmella patted her hand, and Wendy wondered if ”f.u.c.k” was one of those words that sounded the same in several languages. If so, there was a chance of being partially understood.

”Sure, there's something good that comes out of any relations.h.i.+p, but it's usually not enough to balance out the bitterness and lies. So she showed me just how crazy it made me to get fisted, and that was some of the best s.e.x I've ever had and maybe ever will have. She was still a nut job. I just want to find someone who can do the s.e.x part and leave me alone so I don't have to endure the crazy s.h.i.+t.”

Carmella pulled her a little closer to her side when the s.h.i.+p did one of its odd lurches in mid-rise. After the floor under them steadied, Wendy didn't move away. Carmella didn't seem to mind at all.

”I really miss her mouth and her hands. You would think I could find some woman on this s.h.i.+p, this week, who can eat me and f.u.c.k me silly.” Her little laugh was unamused. ”Not to mention one who likes a lot of the same in return. Good, hard s.e.x. What's so bad about that?”

Carmella said, ”A girl like you should get whatever she wants.”

After she sc.r.a.ped her jaw off the floor, Wendy accused, ”You speak Englis.h.!.+”

”Sophia doesn't. She was getting somewhere without English.” Carmella's shrug was elegant. ”I might as well try.”

”That wasn't very nice.” In spite of herself, Wendy found it hard to stay mad when Carmella was smiling so charmingly. ”I was telling you all my secrets.”

”You are very articulate.” The more Carmella said, the more Wendy loved the edges of the Italian accent that softened her words. ”I was taking notes.”

”I'd have never said that if I thought you could understand me.

One eyebrow lifted. ”Isn't that typical of modern communication? We're only clear about what we want when we think there's no chance anyone will understand.”

Wendy opened her mouth to deliver a clever retort, but nothing came to mind. She closed her mouth again, tried to find a good glare, failed, so she admitted defeat. ”You're right.”

”How about we be very clear about what we want?”

”I already have been,” Wendy reminded her. ”It's your turn.”

Carmella's hands slid around her waist. ”When I heard we would be hosting a LOVE trip, I was hoping to find someone who wanted, as you say, good, hard s.e.x. Someone who would let me get a year's worth in a night.”

So far, so good, Wendy wanted to say, but Carmella's hands had moved from her waist to her a.s.s. ”Uh huh.”

”Someone who, if I said I knew of a little room, over there, would find that exciting. Would enjoy me f.u.c.king her there.”

”Uhhuh.”

”As usual, Sophia got to the hottest woman in the room first. What a shame someone called Leta to tell her to go look in the disco.” Carmella's eyes were s.h.i.+ning with laughter.

”Oh, what a shame.” Wendy tugged lightly on the lapel of Carmella's jacket. ”Then there was the bereft damsel needing an escort.”

”Yes. Needing an escort. Needing much more.”

Carmella pulled her in tight for a kiss that started soft but quickly escalated to a question that Wendy eagerly answered. All she had wanted was a playmate and Carmella fit the bill.

”About that little room,” Wendy said when she was able. ”How far is it?”

For an answer Carmella lifted Wendy off her feet, wrapping her legs around her waist. The concourse was empty as she carried her past die first shop and b.u.mped open an almost invisible door with her shoulder.

”It's right here.” She set Wendy down on a counter and flipped on a light just before the door shut behind them.

Wendy had an impression of a janitor's closet before Carmella kissed her so hard that only the important facts remained in her head. For the rest of the cruise she would walk past this door and remember Carmella frantically unb.u.t.toning the sheer blouse and unhooking the Wonder bra. She would get turned on all over again recalling Carmella's grin at the sight of the nipple rings and the way she flicked both before hiking Wendy's skirt up to her waist.

”This is what you want.” Carmella looked down at the thigh-high stockings and lack of panties.

”Yes.” Wendy spread her legs and put Carmella's hand on the aching heat between them. ”Just so we're communicating clearly, I want you to f.u.c.k me good and hard.”

Carmella's eyes had gone almost completely black with l.u.s.t, and her response wasn't in English.

”I didn't understand that,” Wendy said.

Carmella swallowed noisily. ”I said that I want to f.u.c.k you with my hand until you scream.”