Читать книгу All Night Long - Melissa MacNeal - Страница 12

Unlike Rio DeSilva, her cabana boy leaned against the same wall of the elevator as she did, standing close enough that their arms nearly touched. Not a bad thing, except, well—he was young. Which meant he either had the hots for her—

Oh, get real! You’re old enough to be his…aunt.

—or he wanted to make damn sure she didn’t escape when the doors opened downstairs. He was tall enough that he could gawk right down into her cleavage, and in the reflection of the stainless steel wall across from them, Lola could see he was doing just that. Probably ogling those Very Cherry nipples she was wishing she hadn’t painted. Probably because Captain Scandalous had clued him in about them.

It was too damn warm in here. Too quiet, with just the thrum of the elevator going all the way down from the penthouse deck.

“So,” she said, desperate for conversation, “I guess after you’ve worked your summer on the cruise ship, you’ll be going back to college?”

“And give up a cushy job like this?”

Smart aleck! If Aric weren’t so hot, with that medallion hanging among the sparse hairs on his chest, she’d smack him for sounding so insolent.

Lola shifted to her left, trying for a little more space. But damned if he didn’t shift, too.

“So this is your life’s work?” she challenged. “I suppose you play escort—bodyguard—whatever—for a different woman each week? The captain impresses me as a man with a lot of steam to let off.”

“You think I’m gonna answer that?”

She glared up at him, a teacher ready to put this wise-guy student in his place.

But his expression made her swallow her retort. Aric’s eyes were taking their own sweet time checking her out. They were a silvery green, those eyes, and his lips were parted just enough to make her think he modeled for magazines; had maybe gotten some botox shots to make them look so professionally pouty.

But, hey—he was looking at her! None of Fletch’s judgmental advice or left-handed compliments on his mind. And, actually, he was discreet and intelligent—at least about keeping the secrets of the man who signed his paychecks.

“Nice robe,” he said matter-of-factly. And damned if he didn’t run his finger up her arm, just enough to make her breath catch. “Silk?”

“Yeah. On clearance at Victoria’s Secret,” she breathed.

Now that sounded classy! Not only had her man—exman—run off with her plastic and her cell and her business accounts, but she was so high-class as to admit she wore stuff nobody else would pay full price for.

“I like it.”

Lola blinked. But she saw no smirk on his face or heard no telltale edge in his voice. Just a man of few words, making conversation. About her.

“Thank you, Aric.”

“No problem.”

So much for her rising opinion of him—but then, she hadn’t exactly been a shining example of the social graces, had she? “I—I want you to know that I’m not ordinarily so mouthy or—”

“Don’t go there.”

The elevator doors slid open with a seductive whisper, and he gestured for her to go first. They stepped out into a hallway she hadn’t seen—but then, she’d had little time to explore the ship. Incense, or maybe candles, filled the air with the subtle scent of sandalwood and Aric opened a carved door with elegant gold lettering that said THE GODDESS SPA. He was leaning down just enough that his face was level with hers. Kissing level…

“We’ll have lots of time to share secrets this week, Miss Lola,” he continued with a crocodile smile. “Why waste them on elevator chitchat, when we’ve got the Aphrodisia Suite all to ourselves?”

Was that a promise or a threat? Lola wasn’t sure how to answer him, now that he was stringing more than two or three words together.

“Miss Christy’ll be here in a minute. So I might as well relieve you of that robe.”

She blinked. Was this kid going to peel it off her? Right here in the spa lobby, where just anybody might walk in and—

He glanced at his watch—quite possibly a Rolex, but probably a knock-off. “Fifteen minutes—with two to spare. And naked. Right?”

A young man who took his work seriously. Lola turned her back to disrobe, but a huge gilt-framed mirror reflected Aric’s face then, right above her own, as she untied the sash. His eyes held hers in the glass as the silk slithered down past her shoulders, baring her breasts.

At least he didn’t tweak those lewd nipples, like the captain had. His smile was slow and sensuous like a lover’s, rather than a warden’s, and it occurred to Lola that maybe solitary confinement with Stud Boy here would be a welcome relief from working off her debt with the captain.

“Hey, sugar! Just in time!” a honeyed drawl accosted them. “Let’s get you into that little room and ready, shall we, darlin’?”

Was the masseuse talking to Aric, or her? Miss Christy’s enthusiasm was outdone only by her ample assets: she was a curvy blonde with hips that would’ve looked oversized had she not needed them to balance out the golden pillows pushing up out of her lacy pink pajama top. Lola hadn’t worn baby dolls since she was a kid, but this woman had just brought them back into vogue in a very adult way.

“I—nice to meet you, Miss—”

“Miss Christy. So glad to be helpin’ out!” she chirped, pumping Lola’s hand. “Nice to see a gal from the good ole U. S. of A.—not that these Greeks aren’t good-lookin’ and reeeeeal good about tippin’!”

Somehow, she’d expected a more…soft-spoken, New-Age, mystical type down here in the Goddess Spa. But then, what had gone like she’d expected it to?

Miss Christy gave Aric a cheerful salute—the changing of the guard—and then guided her toward a room behind the ornately carved check-in desk. The lobby, decorated in pale sage and maize and teakwood, was dominated by a larger-than-life statue of a goddess with raven waves cascading down her sun-kissed body.

“Let me guess. Aphrodite?” Lola said to make conversation.

“You got it, honey! Some guests like to rub her nubs for luck, but hey—you’re Skorpio’s girl tonight! Lady Luck is already playin’ your song!”

That was one way to look at it. She didn’t have much time to look at anything, however, the way Miss Christy was hustling her into a dimly lit room with two massage beds and candles that flickered seductively in wall sconces. A fountain bubbled in the corner, next to a table covered with vials and jars.

“You know, don’t you, that the line’s two other ships cater to a little different crowd,” the masseuse said, patting the cushioned table. “The S.S. Athena specializes in, well—girly things—”

Lola sensed she wasn’t talking about chick trips with your sister.

“—and the Pandora, now that’s where you get into heavy metal and leather. You know—the little whips, and the manacles chained to the walls, and the room stewards wearin’ spiked dog collars?” she went on nonchalantly. “You picked the right ship, sugar!”

“I—I certainly did!”

“And there’s nobody I’d rather look at nekkid than Skorpio Skandalis. Now you just get comfy here—”

Lola settled herself on the soft, scented sheet, thinking maybe this wasn’t such a bad way to repay Fletch’s debts.

“—while I slick you down a little,” the masseuse chattered. “More fun when you don’t have any friction. Just warm, oiled skin….”

Warm, thick liquid dribbled down her spine and Lola caught her breath with the intense sensation. Miss Christy had a fine set of hands: gentle fingers smoothed the oil into her neck and shoulders, to release the tension she’d been holding there. On down her ribcage they went, until Lola buried a giggle in the small pillow.

“Ticklish, are we?” Miss Christy whispered. “Ooooooh, this is gonna be so much fun! Just you wait!”

As her body went limp, rocking with the firm rhythm of the massage strokes, it occurred to Lola that she was waiting. Where was that damn captain who’d insisted on fifteen minutes?

At the Gala Reception, silly. You think he’s going to leave all those admiring, sequined women for YOU?

She would’ve realized this earlier, had she been her rational self. And now, with these skillful hands lulling her into a heavenly state, Lola told herself not to think about Captain Scandalous—or that other jerk who’d gotten her into this mess in the first place. It was a fine, fine thing to lie here and be blissfully oblivious, rocked like a baby in the arms of the ocean…

“Good evening.”

The words flowed near her ear with that seductive Greek accent, yet Lola heard undertones of Bela Lugosi doing Count Dracula. Like she could care, in this relaxed state. She lazily opened one eye, almost wishing the captain had stood her up.

He was nude. Smoothly muscled and sleek, like she knew he’d be. And that thing standing at attention, right at eye level, was not a cocktail weenie he’d brought her from the reception.

“It pleases me that you’ve followed my instructions, Miss Wright,” he went on in a voice dusky with desire. “I plan to reward you accordingly. May I introduce my personal masseuse, Odette.”

Things began to spin out of kilter when she raised her head from the pillow. Why would this man want a different masseuse, when Miss Christy with the magical hands obviously adored her boss? And hadn’t he requested the pleasure of her company tonight?

Looking at Odette, however, kept Lola from voicing these demands. She was willowy and tanned and pampered, with the smile of a satisfied cat on her classically elegant face…a cat who saw a canary and intended to make it squawk. She could’ve been Skorpio’s twin, except he wasn’t exactly kissing her like a sister. As their bodies pressed together, Lola got the icky feeling they intended to put on a show—like the ice dancers in the Olympics, who’d honed their performance during months of practice. Except those folks wore clothes!

And as the Greeks eased onto the other massage table in the small room, Miss Christy peeled off her lacy pink baby-dolls. Then the masseuse mounted her table—straddled her, while she was laid out on her stomach, naked and defenseless!

“What kind of a deal is—”

“Shhhhh, sugar, don’t fuss now!” the blonde whispered in her ear.

Pale hair fell like a curtain around her face, and Lola felt the warm weight of that voluptuous body beginning to rub…to lightly writhe against her butt and spine. Those double-Ds were resting against her back, and Miss Christy’s nips were prodding her. Hard.

“Everybody’s gonna have a real good time tonight,” she promised. “Play the game by Skorpio’s rules, honey buns, and you’ll get yours. Oh, you’re gonna get it reeeeeal good, girlfriend.”

Lola clenched her jaw, not to mention the rest of her body. It wasn’t so much what Miss Christy said, as the way she’d said it. As though the masseuse felt inclined to be girly and get some for herself while she was at it.

Meanwhile, Captain Skandalis was lying on his back not five feet away, with Odette straddling him. His laugh lines arched above his cheek as he smiled fondly at his partner, fondling the taut line of her jaw…letting his fingers skim down her honey-colored skin until they found her pert, bobbing breasts.

Lola clenched again, somewhere lower this time. God, the way he handled that woman! The way he cupped her and murmured encouragements.

Not once did Fletch ever gaze at me that way. Or caress me with such genuine affection.

But her ex was the furthest thing from her mind when she caught a glimpse of the captain’s cock. He’d slipped it between Odette’s outer lips, and was encouraging her to slide up and down it, with his hands indenting her hips. Her head lolled back, and her tortoiseshell comb came loose, sending waves of midnight hair cascading down her back as she let out soft, desperate moans. Meanwhile, there was that tip of him, like a wine-colored mushroom, bobbing up and then disappearing beneath Odette’s little Mohawk of black thatch.

Lola gripped her pillow. Modesty guilted her into looking away, yet her eyes wandered back to that sensuous scene with every gasp and lusty grunt Captain Scandalous let out.

“You want that cock up your cunt, don’tcha?” Miss Christy whispered. “I can feel your heat down there, Lola. And I can tellya Skorpio hits all the hot spots and lets his woman come first. Right, Captain?”

The handsome Greek flashed a grin that told Lola he loved this game. He intended to make her watch, until she couldn’t stand it any more!

“Give it to her, stud!” the masseuse said in a hoarse whisper. “Shove it up her cunt and pump her full of it! Lola here can’t wait much longer.”

This encouragement was punctuated by those rock-hard nipples prodding her back. Lola was too appalled at her body’s reactions to protest what Miss Christy said or did: their rhythmic rubbing against the sheets made a suggestive whisper all its own. And with the weight of her captor pushing her mound into the mattress, it wouldn’t be long until she needed more direct relief.

And damn the captain! He chose that moment to lift Odette a few inches above his body, giving Lola full view of his rampant erection before lowering his lady onto his shaft, inch by inch.

Odette cried out, bucking wildly. The massage table creaked with their shifting weight, and the musky scent of their sex made Lola writhe in spite of herself. Skandalis was gorgeous, lying there fully in command of himself and his partner: his muscles tensed and bunched with each deliberate thrust as Odette rode him. She was rocking faster against him, her pert breasts shimmying as her hips wiggled feverishly against his.

Then Skorpio jammed her down and held her absolutely still.

The little room held its breath. And so did Lola.

As he raised his head, Odette lowered herself enough for him to suckle her breasts. He lapped gently at one peak, releasing it with a wet, sucking sound that made Lola clench where she hoped Miss Christy wouldn’t notice.

Her own nipples ached as she watched, so she pressed them harder into the mattress. Would that man never tire of teasing every woman in this room? Did he think they’d all worship him while he took his sweet time with his partner?

Skandalis clamped his lips around Odette’s other breast and she shrieked. Began to pump the man with an abandon that took Lola to the end of her tether. Her sigh rasped between her clenched teeth, and damned if Miss Christy didn’t scoot off her and slip an arm beneath her hips.

“I’m gonna give you what you want Lola,” the masseuse said, reaching beneath the table. “I can’t stand your agony any longer. I know your pain, girlfriend, and Miss Christy’s gonna fix it.”

The masseuse, strong from the rubdowns she gave each day, effortlessly lifted Lola into a position that left her backside pointing up and her legs parted. This sent her weight onto her forearms while she clutched the mattress.

“If you think for one minute you’re going to—”

“Don’t even have to think about it, darlin’. Just followin’ my rule about how the customer comes first.” When Miss Christy chuckled, her breath feathered against Lola’s slit. “Open wide, and then close hard. Try not to let the people upstairs hear you screamin’, baby doll.”

Lola squeezed herself shut, determined not to let this woman have her way, when it was that man on the next table she wanted. But then she felt a very warm, solid something coaxing her open down there.

“Whatever that is, you’re not going to—”

“It’s a glass dildo, sugar. All warmed and oiled and just ready to slide inside your—”

“I want it that way,” Odette rasped, pointing at Lola. “I want to be the bitch in heat while you fuck me like a dirty dog, Skorpio.”

Lola’s breath left her in a rush as the lithe Greek woman scrambled into position, pointing her firm backside so her slick lips were visible between long, shapely legs. Skorpio’s smile had a desperate edge to it, yet he was ever the captain in control. He knelt behind Odette, his rod as rigid as a piston, and then entered her with enough force to make them both gasp.

Lola’s groan rose to a cry of sheer need as Miss Christy plied the glass toy with perfect timing, matching the captain’s thrusts, stroke for stroke. Was that a thumb tickling her clit, or a knuckle?

Not that it mattered. Too far gone she was; didn’t care what rubbed her there as long as it didn’t stop.

“Doesn’t that just make you wanna whimper and pant, Lola?” the masseuse demanded slyly. “I’m gettin’ mine just watching that sweet little ass of yours spasm…oooh, and here comes the honey!”

Odette’s low moan escalated, filling the little room with a keening need that made everything spiral upward like a turning screw. She arched up to balance on her knees, her ebony hair swinging above hips that ground backwards into Skorpio’s. Her long fingers curled over her breasts. The gorgeous woman’s breathing became ragged and rough, and at the moment she grimaced, Skandalis shot.

Unable to control her wiggling hips any more than she could stop that wicked masseuse with the slick toy and fingers, Lola gave in to it. Closed her eyes and lost herself in the extreme sensations of solid girth and warm length and the wetness dribbling down her leg. Gritting her teeth against a scream, she convulsed. Again and again Miss Christy slid the dildo inside her, high enough to inflame her g-spot, as well.

Lola collapsed forward, which canted her ass toward the ceiling. Her thoughts were still swirling in a sated haze when she heard the captain’s low laughter.

“What a lovely creature you are when you lose control, Lola,” he murmured, stroking her hair away from her damp forehead. He was standing beside the massage table with his other arm around Odette, smiling indulgently. “It will be a great pleasure indeed to hold your body close to mine as we waltz tonight in the grand ballroom.”

Lola blinked, which was all she could manage at the moment. Now the captain was hinting at other intimate activities, but she wasn’t betting any money she’d make it to the ballroom—or anywhere else—as rubbery as she felt.

“Be dressed and ready to dance the night away when I come for you,” he crooned, lowering his face so those obsidian eyes were level with hers. So she could see how handsome he was as she caught a whiff of the sex he’d shared with Odette; so he could lord it over her that even after making mind-numbing love, Skorpio Skandalis remained the supreme commander of everyone and everything aboard his ship.

“I want you to look nothing less than electrifying when I show you off, my dear,” he finished, “because you are mine.”