In Deep Waters: Cruising The Seas Part 17

"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?

"Sorry," Linda said easily. "I've already got a Gabrielle."

With a flutter of eyelashes the blonde moved on.

"Oh, the travails of fame and fortune," Marissa said. She nodded at the maitre d' and followed him across the main floor of the restaurant.

Linda pulled out Marissa's chair and they greeted the other three couples at their table. The day spent cruising and lounging was evident in a number of near sunburns, but one couple had had some success in the casino.

"We tried yesterday," Linda said. "Blew our budget in about two hours."

"Cat's lucky with cards." Marissa could not remember the speaker's name. "Now we can buy more souvenirs for the grand-kids."

Cat gave her partner a mock scolding glance. "Jessica, we're not grandmothers, remember?"

"Yes, dear."

Marissa chuckled appreciatively. Someday she hoped to be just as comfortable and indulgently affectionate with Linda as Cat and Jessica were with each other. They'd even had a child together and now were grandparents. Kids weren't in her and Linda's plans, not yet anyway, even if her mother was agitating in the worst possible fas.h.i.+on.

An uproar at the door brought all conversation to a halt. With a stamp of feet and clash of very real looking swords, female crew members in full gladiatorial regalia marched into the dining room, flushed and giggling. Their breastplates bore the colors of the Italian flag, and many had a face more red than her costume.

"They never get to do the march," Cat yelled over the din. "This week the cruise organizers made them make an exception. Woo!" She began swinging her napkin over her head, and soon everyone followed suit.

The cheering screams as the gladiators circled the room were deafening. Linda stamped her feet as Marissa tried to yell herself hoa.r.s.e. Impossibly, the bedlam escalated at the promised presentation of Bacchus. A chaise appeared carried on the shoulders of toga-clad men, but instead of die G.o.d Bacchus, it was the woman who owned the touring company, wrapped scantily in a toga and bearing the sign, Sappho.

After the chaise made a circuit, "Sappho" stepped off to thank her bearers and made a little speech ending with "More wine!"

The cheering resumed as the gladiators exited the dining room and calmed somewhat as the pianist launched into "That's Amore!"

"Sounds like plenty of wine has already been had," Linda said as other diners began singing along with the music.

Jessica grinned. "It's high spirits. It's been such a great week so far and we all get to be who we are."

"It's been a real reminder to me that not everybody gets to live where we live." Marissa recalled that Jessica and Cat also lived in the Bay Area. "We're very lucky there."

"I met this adorable couple from Topeka and they are on Cloud Nine. One woman doesn't know how they'll be able to go back to the so-called real world."

The waiter offered them their daily menu and she and Linda quickly agreed on what they'd split and share. By then the pianist had segued to "It's a Small World," and the singers quickly adapted the lyrics.

Linda chortled and joined in. "It's a gay, gay world!"

Dinner was a blur to Marissa. There were so many good pheromones in the room and the wine was so wonderful that it all felt like something out of a dream. But most wonderful was the way she felt about Linda. The last year had been as heavenly as the first year had not. They both worked hard but every day, at least once a day, they said I love you and found a way to make the other laugh. They made love sometimes in quick little bursts of release and other times set aside a long afternoon to explore each other.

By dessert, though she'd only had one gla.s.s of wine, she felt tipsy. But when Linda tried to guide them down the stairs to their suite, she instead insisted on a walk around the deck. "Come on, the dessert was decadent. There's later, sweetheart."

Linda indulged her and they walked toward the bow, sheltered from the wind until they reached the foredeck. A good-sized barrier prevented them from going into the bow, but the wind was refres.h.i.+ng and it cleared Marissa's head. By the time they'd made a complete circuit, she felt much more focused, but the tingles of wonder and awe every time she looked at Linda were just as strong.

Out of the wind on the aft deck above the pool, she leaned into Linda and pointed out the moon rising. "Remember that beautiful moon in Tahiti? The sea was so still that it looked like a magical pathway over the surface would let us walk right to it."

"I have to say I'm really happy to be on a s.h.i.+p that has stayed afloat."

Marissa squeezed Linda's arm. "Me too, even though I got what I wanted and needed out of that experience."

"Yeah?" Linda gazed down at her, and Marissa recognized the only shadow that ever existed in Linda's eyes.

"Don't," Marissa said. No matter how often she told Linda she forgave her for that long, painful year when Linda had dropped out of her life without a word, Linda sometimes needed to be rea.s.sured. "It's okay."

"I could have sent a postcard from New Zealand, or an e-mail from any Internet cafe in Boston. I could have told you the truth before we left Tahiti, even."

"It's okay," Marissa repeated. "The hurt is long gone."

The shadow lessened, but it hadn't entirely left Linda's eyes. "I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"Okay," Marissa said easily. "Sounds like you want to get married."

"I do."

A little silence fell and Marissa's heart was suddenly beating like she had just finished a half-hour on a stair-stepper. Linda reached into the little waist pouch that Marissa had thought purely decorative and extracted something very thin.

"I'm not perfect, Marissa."

"I don't care if you're perfect or not. All that matters is that you're perfect for me and you think I'm perfect for you."

"Marry me. Please."

"Yes." Marissa's chin quivered and she looked down at what Linda had in the palm of her hand.

"When we get home we'll pick out real rings. But for now..."

She gently pushed a woven ring of blue fabric onto Marissa's ring finger. It was a little thick, but even through a veil of tears, Marissa thought it was beautiful.

"I made it out of what was left of that sc.r.a.p I carried to remind me of you. A real ring will replace it, I promise."

She threw herself into Linda's arms. "Yes, darling, yes. I want forever with you."

Linda swung her in a circle, setting her down to kiss her hungrily. "Let's go back to our room."

"We'll miss the jazz trio."

"Don't care."

Marissa was already leading Linda into the atrium. "Neither do I."

Her reflection, the woman she was, was bright and clear in Linda's eyes. The lights were on, all of them.

Linda had already exchanged her costume for an old soft T-s.h.i.+rt featuring a small cartoon of a dog with a snorkel in its mouth. Marissa blinked back tears recalling all the nights she'd kept that s.h.i.+rt under her pillow. Linda stretched out on the bed, one long, lean line, and watched Marissa remove her sandals, then roll down and carefully remove her thigh-high stockings.

Marissa no longer felt awkward undressing in front of Linda. A year and then some of proof that Linda got very excited just looking at her in antic.i.p.ation of the moment Marissa slipped naked into her arms had given her the confidence to take her time. She sat down on the bed so Linda could reach her zipper and bra, and without prompting, Linda undid both.