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.
