Victoria's Secret Wish

by Piper Denna

  Britt stood at the bedroom doorway, looking around the suite.

  “No, don’t say anything to housekeeping.” She was firm on this. “For one thing, I don’t want to sound any alarms. Nor do I want our cleaning staff to get snoopy. That would go against all the principles of Fantasies, Inc.”

  “All right. Have a good day.”

  She hung up the phone and couldn’t help smiling at Britt, who had the audacity to thrust his hips forward, trying to get more attention for his cock. “Goofball.”

  He feigned shock. “That’s all you’ve to say about this wondrous monument to manhood? Where’s David?”

  She sighed. “I think he left, right before I woke up.”

  He stepped over and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the hair at her neck. “Not very sporting, now is it? Fuck and run?” His hands reached her ass and her legs seemed to spread apart all on their own. Clearly, they were both still turned on by the night’s activities.

  “I love you.” To have him want her the way he had, after watching… He was such a solid, reliable force in her life.

  “And I you, Vic.” He squeezed her until she thought she’d never breathe again. “Must say, this isn’t what I’d expected, though.”

  “Hmm?”

  His hands had crept down her ass crack.

  “I’d rather hoped the bloke would keep me company while you do your judging this noon, and then maybe he could tag along… I dunno. For the cruise, I suppose.”

  She nibbled his shoulder. “Maybe it was awkward for him. Ya know?” Other than those first strange minutes last night, none of it had seemed awkward for her. But she was older, and she’d seen a hell of a lot of these things play out, even if she hadn’t participated in them. “Maybe he’s trolling the Cougar deck, or had some other plans. Who knows?”

  He was silent, gently caressing her tender parts, parts now aching for more of his touch. She knew he wouldn’t do more, though. Those parts would need lube, which wasn’t handy. Besides, he seemed deep in thought–the caressing was more of an absentminded stroke. “I suppose it’s his way. He’s a runner, isn’t he?” Wherever he was headed with this, she’d let him keep going. The think-stroking was great. “Like yesterday. He ran when presented with the proposal.” His fingers ventured forward, where she was somewhat raw, if better lubricated. “Question is, why did he run this time?”

  She winced, and couldn’t help but flinch away from his hand. “Maybe he was, like…sore.”

  Britt pulled back enough to look at her face. “Ah, love. I’m sorry. Let’s go see what our Gossip Gal had to say, shall we?”

  On the table in front of them, her laptop powered up, they found the website for the tabloid, where A-list celeb divorces came to light, and B-list porn stars had their fifteen minutes of fame. The imported blog had gained top billing on The Scoop’s site, front and center.

  “Here we go,” Victoria muttered.

  Day 2 on FCS Aphrodite proved educational and entertaining. My 1-line description? A guy who gives it in the back never goes slack.

  Today was the All About Anal class-slash-orgy. Let me tell you, even an expert could learn things from that crash course. For instance, did you know…almost one third of ancient Peruvian pottery portrays anal intercourse? After the informative part of the lesson, we all got to watch firsthand, and then try out the new techniques. “We do, you do” style. Holy luscious lubricants, AssMan! The folks at Lay-Techs were kind enough to provide samples of their brand-new state-of-the-art lube, name yet TBA–provide samples? Or test out? Either way, the product went over quite well. A pity the whole shebang–hole shebang? Heh–couldn’t have been recorded for posterity. In summary, a good time was had by all, and many good times were had by several.

  In other news, the body art contest was not at all what I’d expected. A man who plies his package and paints his pubes to look like a bird of paradise? Wrong, on so many levels.

  And now for the Gritty Gossip. Everyone’s favorite Fantasy Mountain ex, Rafe Wyndham, was seen parading around the Cougar deck, stealing horny aged ladies from their he-cubs for his harem. A little bird tells me he had one hell of a party in his suite! And why wouldn’t he? The guy is hot as hell even if he is old as Satan, and clearly still lusting after Victoria. Maybe she should consider her options. Hey, at least he was never overheard telling other viewers at a body art contest that he wished Victoria would get a hood piercing with pearls–as opposed to her husband with the obvious wandering eye.

  Signing off,

  G-G-girl.

  Victoria covered her eyes with her hands. “Tell me you did not say that.”

  “I did not.”

  “Okay.” Though her reflex had been to fly into his face and go nuts, she had to trust him.

  “Remember, love. There’s a reason she’s remaining anonymous. No chance of libel suits if nobody knows who to sue. Although I’ve a mind to slap some warning litigation on this site for carrying her lies.” He stood beside her, smoothing her hair.

  The lies were a problem, sure. But spilling detailed secrets about her clients–that was a bigger concern. What if the name-dropping got more frequent? Bad enough the little bitch had already used Carmyn’s name and Rafe’s. Who else would she name?

  “I think it’s time I had a brief meeting with old Rafe,” Britt mused. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at him in warning, but he continued. “Only as long as it takes for my fist to meet his ogling eyes.”

  “God, Britt. She’s probably making that up too. She’s a sensationalist. Who cares about Rafe? I never loved him. You know that.” She lowered her voice and raked her nails down his belly. “Besides, you’re twice the man he is, and much more skilled.”

  He grinned down at her, his dimple out in full force. “You’ve a way with words.”

  “Yeah, well. You’ve a way with me, you great English dork.”

  It was apparent by the nasty stuff on that blog, somebody wanted to cause trouble between her and Britt. But who? Britt believed Andrea wasn’t aboard. What about Rafe? Would he stoop this low? This person was good with words. A writer? Maybe Mick. She needed something to occupy his time. Ah, she had just the thing. “Speaking of words, I’m going to have Mick shadow Captain Bekyros.”

  “Christ. Poor Captain.”

  Yes, perhaps. But despite their different exteriors, instinct told her the captain and Mick had something in common inside–something they might be able to share in.

  “So you’re seriously not coming with me to judge the Cougar and Cub Dirty Dance-Off?” she asked.

  “In light of our shipboard gossip columnist, do you think it wise?”

  Hell. He had her there, for sure.

  He offered her a gentle kiss, a soft smile. “Think I’ll tinker around the suite, tidy things up a bit.”

  “That’s what housekeeping is for.”

  His smile remained in place, but he didn’t answer. His gaze darted toward the patio door, where the shoe pile had grown, then back to her. Whatever he was planning, she didn’t have time to ask, or try and talk him out of it.

  Chapter 13

  Victoria paused outside the suite’s door. Male voices carried from inside. Laughter. Britt, and… Really? She keyed in the code and swung the door open.

  Britt and David stood in the open space in front of the huge flat-panel TV, controllers in hand, playing Wii. The console rested on top of a suitcase below the TV. Very elegant, after Britt had made such a point of insisting all the cables and cords for the TV were routed through the wall.

  “Oh, hullo, Vic.” He looked over at her briefly, then prepared to take a golf swing. “I’m walloping David here.”

  “You wish,” David muttered. “Wait’ll you see me putt this hole.”

  “Hi.” She lifted her hand and waved.

  David offered a shy smile and a wink, then turned back to watch Britt’s ball onscreen.

  Britt watched the replay and his chest puffed up. “I believe that’s an eagle, no?” He b
umped shoulders with David, grinning.

  Victoria shook her head and made for the bedroom to change.

  Britt followed her to the doorway, where he leaned with his arms crossed over his chest, the smug bastard. Just waiting for her to ask. Well, she wouldn’t. He’d bust open and have to tell before long.

  “Wii, Britt? Tell me you didn’t swipe it from the crew lounge.”

  “Love. The staff has better things to do in that lounge. David and I can attest to that. Those buggers put the staff at the Mountain to shame! Besides, they’ve two more consoles down there, and no one has borrowed them. They’ll never miss this one.” He shrugged and stood there silently, no doubt still waiting for her to ask about David. Not a chance. “Care to join us for a game, then? Me and David, that is?”

  The rotter.

  “No. I think I’ll go relax by the pool.” It was almost three PM. Surely the deadliest of the sun’s rays were past for the day. If she slathered on plenty of sunscreen…

  “Britt! Your turn!” David called.

  Britt now, was it, instead of Brett? Interesting.

  Britt pulled her into a fierce embrace and gave her a quick, tongue-y kiss. “Have it your way. I’ll see you out there later. The championship calls.” He turned on his heel and returned to his game.

  Men.

  Trash talk resumed, and they barely paused when she sauntered past in her little black bikini. Probably for the best. She could use some downtime, after the noise at that dance contest, and then giving Mick the temporary brush-off.

  What the heck? She almost tripped over a duffel, and a suitcase she recognized as David’s from when he’d boarded. His stuff was all here. Another interesting turn of events which Britt must be dying for her to ask about. Rat.

  Settling on a chaise, she took a bottle of sunscreen from the basket on the table. Hmm. Maybe while she relaxed out here, she’d take a look at the surveillance cams, see how things were going around the ship. Britt called her a control freak, and maybe she was–but hey, she wanted to know how things were working out, for planning next trip’s schedule. Before she got her hands all gooped up, she used the remote to access her security cams on the outside TV. There. The Lido pool was a good place to start. So far the public sex option was going over well.

  Ahh, she leaned back and filled her palm with some lotion for her legs. Yep, that pool deck had seen some serious action this trip. Two girls and a guy were just finishing up, the surrounding tables full of happy observers. She’d bet those girls had seen lesbian action before, judging by their moves. Well, whatever made them happy. It wasn’t for her, definitely. But guys sure enjoyed watching it, and the dude out there who’d become the filling in their sandwich wasn’t complaining.

  Another handful of sunscreen, and she was ready to tackle her torso. Would be nice if one of those golf-playing studs inside came out to help her. No, better for them to bond over their game. The closer they got, the happier she’d be.

  Onscreen, the trio finished up and a couple of guys who’d been at a nearby table moved onto the deck area. When they started making out, her pulse quickened. Oh, yeah. Funny how many of the men in that Lido audience hurried away when they saw the next show wasn’t strictly hetero, or girl-on-girl. Men got so freaked out by watching other guys together. Even Britt didn’t usually stick around to watch the male fantasies play out, though he had a time or two. And to be fair, she’d never really told him how much she enjoyed them.

  These guys at the Lido pool were newbies–if they had any homo experience, it wasn’t with each other. She could tell by the tentative way they touched each other, brushing fingers down chests, over abs. Shy about the groin, but obviously aching to go there. Ah, God. Damn hot. She leaned back in the chair for the show. The one guy had finally worked up courage to reach his hand inside the other’s swim trunks, and the other hunched over, in hot pleasure-agony…

  She woke to the sound of somebody’s sneeze. A little dazed, she shielded her eyes with her hand, squinted and looked around.

  “Aw, shit. Sorry.” David stopped, halfway between her and the pool. “I didn’t want to wake you up.” He had on his little swimsuit. Must’ve been planning a workout.

  “No problem.” God, how long had she been sleeping?

  He’d stopped near her chair, and was staring at the TV screen. “Is that live?”

  “Yes. We’ve got a live feed here and into the security room. For, uh…monitoring.” An older couple were performing where the guys she’d watched had been. Hard to say if anybody else had been there between.

  David nodded and cocked his head to the side, watching.

  “All golfed out? What’s Britt up to?” she asked.

  He turned away from the TV and made eye contact. Man, those blue eyes of his! “He fell asleep. We were watching real golf.”

  “Good God. I’m sorry. Probably not what you wanted to do on a cruise.” Especially a sex cruise. “We must seem pretty boring.” They just never got much downtime, and it was nice to relax.

  “It’s all good. I don’t get to just chillax much. Ya know?”

  Yeah, she knew, all right.

  Not that she was very chillaxed right now, with him staring at her chest. And definitely not bored. In fact, her nipples had to be telling him she was very excited.

  “Can I ask you something?” she blurted. “Well, I mean, that’s the dumbest question ever, because obviously asking you that is already asking something. But anyway…”

  He grinned and seemed to be looking at her mouth now, more than her chest. “Ask away.” Was he erect? Or were those swim shorts just tight?

  “Um.” She’d enjoyed the hell out of his last erection. What had she been about to ask? “Oh. What did Britt say to you?”

  “He said he’d be out later, but if we wanted, to go on and have a go.”

  Huh? “What the… No, I mean, what did he say to get you to come back?”

  “Oh, that. He tracked me down at the bar. Came to tell me, ‘You left your shoes again. And if you care to have them back, you’ll have to come fetch them yourself.’”

  “Nice British accent you do.” She chuckled.

  He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “And?” she prompted.

  “It was my last pair of shoes.” He winked. “So I followed him back this way. And when we got to the elevator, he said, ‘You know, it might be easier to get your other stuff from your room and bring it to ours, than to haul all those shoes back to yours.’ So I agreed and we brought my stuff here.”

  Just like that. No communication whatsoever. Men. What the hell was she doing with a second one? Well, somebody had better initiate a conversation and get things cleared up. She patted the chaise and tilted her head. “Sit.”

  When he did, he faced her and sat closer than she’d expected, but what the hell. They weren’t exactly strangers. She could smell his cologne, could feel his warm weight against her bare feet, curled close to her butt. Her knee rested against his elbow…wow. Lots of body contact. Was it hot out, or had she already gotten bothered?

  Might as well go for broke. Maybe he’d only intended to hang out and be buddies, but Britt clearly thought they’d keep the menage going. Somebody needed to clarify what they wanted. She wanted him.

  “I’m glad you came back.” She was breathless, and barely tripped the words out.

  He swept forward and clasped the sides of her face, kissing her in a hurried, hungry openmouthed torrent. “Me too.”

  God, he was minty-sweet again, and she loved the taste of him. Loved what he was doing with his hand inside her bikini top. Wanted to feel him inside her again. But…

  “Not this way.” She pulled back, closed her mouth, squeezed her legs together, pressed away the throbbing rebellion. “Not without him here. I’m sorry.”

  David hung his head. “No, you’re right. Even though he said it, I thought at the time it would be a bad idea. Cause trouble. Then I came out here and you–I–well, sorry. I kinda lost it.�
�

  He kinda lost it? She’d almost lost it from the pressure of her leg against herself. Holy hell.

  He looked up at her, his face flushed. “So maybe it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

  “Ask away.” She took his hand.

  “Is this how it usually works?”

  The guy turning on the girl so much she creams herself during conversation? Yeah, when it’s good, it works that way. “Um. Works?”

  “You know about this stuff.” He looked away, but still clasped her hand. “When couples do this sort of thing. Like at your resort. Do they keep hanging out with the other person?”

  Ah, that. “No.” She owed him honesty. “Not usually.” Most of the rendezvous she arranged lasted eighteen hours, max. “They usually go their separate ways after that one encounter, and never see each other again.” Which was probably smart.

  “Is that what you recommend? For your clients?”

  Sticky question. Now she had to separate business from personal, facts from feelings. “Depends on the chemistry, I guess. I’ve had people contact me after they went home, and ask me to give their information to the other participants.”

  “And how’d that work out?”

  Hit and miss? So far, it had always been only one party who wanted to hook up again, in a menage situation. She wracked her brain to remember the couples she’d worked with. Damn. No lasting relationships had ever been created between a married couple and their fantasy lover–at least not any she knew of. She looked up and found him watching her. Think.

  “Let me ask you this.” He bit his lower lip. “Why’d you want me to come back?”

  Her heart pounded. Where the hell was Britt when she needed him? Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to do this clarifying on her own. She cleared her throat. “I guess it goes back to chemistry.”

  “And you think this,” he let go of her hand and motioned between them, and then toward the suite, “is good chemistry?”

  She licked her lips and remembered his minty mouth. “We wouldn’t have just made it to second base, if it wasn’t.”