Part 17 (1/2)
”It's okay.”
”No, it's not. If I'm the top, I should be thinking of those things.”
”There's no question that you're the top,” Evie said. Blood rushed to her knees and she instantly felt better. ”But I really am okay.”
Felicia's fingers tightened on Evie's hard nipple as she pulled Evie close. ”I have a confession to make.” After Evie's inquiring look, she went on, ”You're not the only one having a first time. I've never topped anyone before.”
Surprise made Evie's jaw drop. ”You could have fooled me.”
”I'd thought about it, believe me. A lot. But I didn't know if I could pull it off. When I saw that other couple and the look on your face I got all... inspired, I guess.”
”Am I that readable?”
”You were to me. That look got me hotter than anything I've ever felt in my life.” Her fingers twisted Evie's nipple. ”Is this okay with you, my responsive butch bottom?”
It was okay, suddenly, Evie thought. She finally made sense to herself and that was all that mattered. If Hana had a problem with it, that was Hana's problem, not hers.
”Yes,” Evie said easily. There wasn't a quaver in her voice or in her mind. ”This is okay with me.”
Gladiators Karin Kallmaker ”Half the women on board are going to think you're her at first.” Marissa surveyed Linda's gladiator costume, complete with breastplate and rubber sword.
Linda shrugged with a smile. ”It doesn't bother me anymore. Besides...” Without warning, she pushed Marissa flat on the bed. ”You are most definitely not some featherweight sidekick everyone wishes was really my girlfriend.”
”Got that right. I am most definitely your girlfriend, and I'm no featherweight.”
Linda kissed her and Marissa happily took note that it was not a light, bouncy I-love-you kiss, and not a later-let's-do-more kiss. It was a let's-turn-on-all-the-lights-and-take-off-all-our-clothes kiss.
When she was able, Marissa said, ”I just got into these stockings.”
”Are you really going to make me wait?” She was treated to another kiss and one of those patented dark-eyed looks where Marissa could see herself in the depths.
”Our seating begins in fifteen minutes.”
”Why did we go for the early seating?” Linda planted little kisses all around Marissa's collarbone.
”We wanted to be sure to have time for a nightly walk on the deck before going to bed.”
”Mmm. Bed.” Linda continued with the little kisses, moving down the deep cleavage of Marissa's servant-of-the-temple costume.
”And so far, my dear Ms. Bartok, we've gone to bed every night without taking a walk.”
”And, my dear Ms. Chabot, we achieved highly aerobic activity with sustained target heart rates.”
Marissa giggled. ”Brown-eyed woman.”
”Are you saying I'm full of s.h.i.+t?”
Marissa's quip died on her lips as she touched Linda's hair where it brushed her shoulders. The dark strands moved like silk against her fingertips, and for just a moment she was back in the bungalow where they had first made love, experiencing the magic of Linda's touch, feeling wanted and sensual for the first time in her life.
”Hey.” Linda's gaze was gentle and open. ”Where'd you go?”
”I was thinking about Tahiti.” The pain of all that had happened after that night had been washed over with the promise of their future. Where she had once dreaded each new day without Linda, now she welcomed every sunrise. ”Thank you for loving me.”
”Are you kidding?” Linda moved off of Marissa, settling along her side. ”That was the best night of my life.”
Marissa could have spent the next hour like this, quietly talking about whatever came to mind, and reveling in the little sensations, like the warmth of Linda's cheek against her fingertips. They both worked too hard and rarely had time like this to waste together. ”The first best night of your life, you mean.”
Linda grinned again. ”I stand corrected.” She leaned in for a kiss, but the breastplate got in the way. When a strap popped and a point dug into Marissa's forearm, Linda acknowledged defeat.
”Okay, we'll wait. But I am going to liberate you from your days as a temple slave.” She clambered off the bed to fix her breastplate strap.
”And I'll be just your slave after that?”
”Of course.” Linda wiggled in a circle as she tried to adjust the pleated leather skirt. ”I plan to have my way with you.”
”Let me.” Marissa slipped both hands up Linda's skirt and found the hem of the unders.h.i.+rt. With a little tug she got rid of the rumple. Then, just for good measure, she gave Linda's backside a very friendly squeeze.
”Liking your slave duties already?”
Marissa answered with a sharp swat. ”You have to help me get my bra on correctly.”
”Gladly.” Linda posed in the narrow mirror with her sword. ”The skirt looks just right now. Thanks.”
Marissa slipped the gathered straps of the diaphanous gown off her shoulders.
Linda made a show of tossing her sword to one side. ”How can I help with the presentation of your b.o.o.bages?”
Marissa gave Linda a dour look, which Linda ignored as usual, and then turned her back. ”Tighten the hooks and then when I've got everything lifted, you're going to tighten these silly clear straps so everything stays. You know, the package says it's for the full-figured gal, but not one with shoulders.”
Linda adjusted the hooks as Marissa asked, then kissed Marissa between the shoulder blades. ”And have you got shoulders. Free weight heaven.”
Marissa looked at Linda's reflection in the mirror. ”I could care less about the weights. But it felt really good to heave my own carryon into the overhead bin.” She lifted the bra cups so the straps had more slack. ”Tighten please.”
Just as they were leaving, Linda reached into the small refrigerator in the suite's tiny bar area. ”For my beautiful slave girl. A slave no more.”
”Oh, Linda.” Touched, Marissa took the simple crown of laurel leaves wrapped around florist wire. She snipped off the little tag from the s.h.i.+p's florist. ”It makes the costume perfect.”
”Allow me,” Linda said. Marissa bent her head and felt the cool touch of the leaves all around her scalp. ”My divine lady.”
She blushed. Sometimes she still caught herself not believing that Linda saw her as beautiful. When Linda made it clear with such romantic gestures, she still felt surprised. Linda pulled her close and they shared a soft, very tender kiss. It was a few minutes before they made their way out of their cabin.
”Okay, so we're in the minority for costumes.” Marissa held Linda's hand as they approached the dining room. There was a smattering of women in similar white-gowned garb to her own, but most of the other women were in casual evening clothes. Linda, in her full gladiator regalia, was attracting quite a lot of attention, but that was nothing new. Linda took it in stride, and Marissa wanted to tell Linda how proud she was that the attention no longer sent Linda running to the ends of the earth. The warm hand she held reflected none of the tension that had been present when they'd first met, when a remark about Linda's resemblance to glamorous heroines of stage and screen caused Linda a great deal of anguish.
”That sword should be a Chakram,” a pet.i.te blonde observed as they waited for the maitred's attention.
Linda patted the breastplate. ”Chakram's under here.”
Stepping well into Linda's personal s.p.a.ce, the blonde said coquettishly, ”Can I see?”
Marissa arched one eyebrow. Blondie didn't see that Linda was holding hands with someone already?