G-Men: The Series (145 page)

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Authors: Andrea Smith

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“So,” I continued, “does it make it difficult to only be with a man now?”

He contemplated his answer for a moment. “I think you’re under the impression that bisexuals need variety in order to be completely satisfied. It’s not like that. I can be totally fulfilled sexually and emotionally with Eli, because we’re in love. I’ve been in love with women, too. During those relationships, I was totally fulfilled sexually and emotionally with them. So, it’s not like I feel like I’m missing out by not being sexual with both men and women on a consistent basis. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” I replied. “It’s like any relationship where there’s monogamy, regardless as to whether you’re able to love and be sexual with both genders, right?”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling. “I simply have more choices of fuck buddies between relationships.”

We both laughed at that.

“You know,” I said, still laughing, “I was totally prepared to spend all afternoon sulking and you’ve brought me out of my mood. Thanks for sharing that with me, Cain.”

“It was my pleasure, Ronnie,” he said with a wink. “So, are you still pissed off at Colin?”

“No, not really,” I said with a sigh. “I know it’s been stressful on him these past months. You see, we’ve been trying to conceive a baby going on a year now. I think it’s taken some of the spontaneity out of our love life.”

“I see,” he replied. “So you’re thinking maybe he feels under pressure because of it?”

“I know he does. If nothing happens in the next two months, my doctor has suggested fertility testing for us. Colin will be tested first because it’s simply easier to check sperm count. On females, well it’s a bit more invasive.”

“Ouch,” he said. “That’s got to jab at his ego a bit if it gets to that point, no doubt.”

I nodded. “I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to that. What about you and Eli? Are children in your future?”

I had moved over towards the bank of the pond in order to immerse myself in the shallow water, taking a seat in the wet sand where the water would lap against my back. Cain had started to reply to my latest question, when all of a sudden, my ass felt as if I had sat smack dab on a pin cushion. Prickly shocks of pain invaded my butt, causing me to jump and screech in agony.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, launching myself up out of the water. “Something’s bit me!”

“Hold still, hold still,” Cain ordered, coming to me quickly, examining the next-to-non-existent fabric covering my butt.

“Shit,” he said. “You must’ve sat on a jellyfish.”

“Oh God, is that lethal?”

“It’s not a box jellyfish,” he replied, looking into the water as the creature drifted away. “You’ll be okay. But Ronnie, you have to lie on your stomach and hold still so I can neutralize the tentacles. You have a couple of them stuck through your suit.”

“Oh shit,” I shrieked, totally losing it. “Pull it out, Cain, please!”

“I can’t pull them out until I neutralize them, otherwise, they’ll fire off the venom and you or I will be worse off, so chill, babe.”

I laid flat on my belly wondering how the hell he intended to neutralize the little fuckers. Then it dawned on me.

I gasped audibly, turning my head, fully expecting to see him whipping out his dick. I had seen this very thing happen to Monica on
Friends
.

“Relax,” he said, trying to hide a grin. “You watch too much television, girl. I’ve no intention of pissing on your ass. Sorry about your luck.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I watched him out of the corner of my eye grab the bottle of the red merlot wine we hadn’t finished. He squatted down beside me, and poured the warm wine slowly over my ass, where it felt like needles were embedded into my skin. Within a few moments, the stinging stopped and just a dull throbbing pain was left. At least I could cope with that.

“Okay,” he said, “Hold still. I’m going to pick these out of your behind.”

I did as instructed until I heard him say, “Operation, successful. You’re going to need to put some Lanocaine on this when you get back to the ship. They’ll have some there at the infirmary for sure.”

“Thanks, Cain,” I said, sheepishly. “I’m sorry I was such a baby, but it hurt like hell.”

“Hey, no worries,” he replied, helping me stand up. “I’ve tangled with a jellyfish before and it hurts like a mother-fucker, I know.”

I was standing up right in front of him now. I shivered at our closeness, not sure why. He peered down at me through his thick, dark lashes, and for a moment, we were frozen in time. I watched as he lowered his mouth within inches of mine, his hands now bracing my shoulders. He intended to kiss me.

Oh God!

Instantly, I knew what I had to do, pushing back from him, and looking away quickly. “Let’s get packed up, Cain. I’m sure the others are done shooting clay pigeons by now.”

“Hey, Ronnie,” he said, softly. “I don’t want you to—”

“It’s fine, Cain,” I interrupted. “Let’s just forget it, okay?”

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” he asked, stepping closer to me once again.

“You have no choice,” I replied, tersely, shaking my towel out. “I want to go back to the ship now.”

We returned to the ship in silence. Once we reached our deck, Cain pulled my arm, forcing me to look at him.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said, calmly. “But I don’t regret spending the afternoon with such a beautiful person. I hope we’re still friends.”

“Sure,” I said, giving him a quick smile. “See you, Cain.”

When I got to our suite, Colin had just come out of the shower, still towel-drying his damp hair.

I hurriedly shed my swimsuit thong, peering at my backside in the full-size mirror on the sliding closet doors. There was a reddened area where the jellyfish had stung me, but it didn’t appear swollen. Evidently, Cain had done a good job with his emergency first-aid.

“What the hell happened to your bum?” Colin asked, looking concerned, as he closed the distance between us.

“Jellyfish sting,” I replied. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Cain poured red wine on it and removed the tentacles.”

“Thank God for that,” he replied; totally comfortable with the fact that another man had administered first-aid to my bum. Maybe it was because Colin trusted me without question; or maybe it was because he thought Cain was gay. I wondered if his reaction would have been different had he known what I now knew: Cain was bi-sexual. And it appeared he was also attracted to me.

It really didn’t matter because I loved Colin more than anyone else on earth, and no matter what, I’d never put that love at risk.

“Listen, babe,” he said, pulling me up against him, and gently stroking my hair. “I was a total wanker earlier. I’m sorry, sweets. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Colin. This is your vacation, too. I shouldn’t have been so controlling about it. Maybe that jellyfish sting happened for a reason. Forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, love. And, if it makes you feel any better I totally humiliated myself at the shoot. Why the fuck did I ever think that either Easton or I stood a chance against those FBI blokes?”

On the fourth day of vacay my true love and I gave to one another:

A lesson in contrition.

chapter 5

On the fifth day of vacay…

~ Darcy ~

Hot damn! It was New Year’s Eve! Sammie, Lindsey and I had spent the better part of yesterday afternoon
with Jo Anna, the event planner for the New Year’s Eve masquerade ball. She had taken all of our measurements for the costume planning, using mine for Ronnie’s since we were about the same height and build. We’d provided the sizes for our men to her as well, so that she could select their attire.

The
really
beautiful thing about it was that everyone’s costume would be a secret. None of us would know what the other was wearing. The same applied to the men.

A huge dressing room had been set up behind the stage of the large ballroom for the ladies to change into their masquerade gowns provided as rentals by the cruise-line. The men’s costumes would be delivered in a wardrobe bag to their suites a couple of hours prior to the ball.

The masks we would be given hid the whole upper part of the face. Jo Anna had shown us a few and they were extremely ornate and detailed. They were fairly comfortable though, allowing for easy communication and eating. The whole point was to leave them on throughout the cocktail/appetizer social hour in order to seek out your date or mate as Jo Anna had put it.

Wigs were optional, depending upon how difficult we wanted to make it for our men to pick us out of the crowd. We had all decided to wear them and were permitted to select the ones we wanted and give the stock number to Jo Anna, so that she could put them with our costumes in our assigned dressing rooms on New Year’s Eve.

This ball was, by far, the most lavish event scheduled for New Year’s Eve on the ship. There were several other New Year’s Eve events taking place, but I had reserved this event when we booked our passage. There was a maximum limit of fifty couples.

Of course, Eli had begged off before we had left, saying he and Cain were going to attend another event less “stodgy” as he had put it. He wasn’t receptive to the antebellum theme of the masquerade ball, claiming he would be tagged a “dandy” whatever the hell that meant.

Cocktail hour started at 8:00 p.m. Dinner was served at 9:00. The object, during happy hour, was for the men to seek out their date or mate, and slip a garter that matched their cravat or tie onto her leg, making his claim. Women were encouraged to seek their man out if they so desired, but once the garter was put into place on the woman’s thigh, no talking was to take place between the two of them until the masks came off.

Once seated at the dinner table as a matched couple, the masks could come off, and dinner would be served. I thought it sounded like an absolute hoot. Easton wasn’t exactly sharing the sentiment.

I was taking a leisurely bubble bath in the sunken tub of our suite when he sauntered in, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Darcy,” he said; his tone serious, “I’m all for having fun at tonight’s masquerade ball, but I think we need to work out some sort of a silent signal so as to make sure we end up together, don’t you?”

I lathered up my leg, running my razor down the length of it.

“Oh Easton, come on,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me that you can’t pick me out among forty-nine other women of all shapes and sizes? I think I’m offended.”

He sat near the edge of the tub, gazing down at me with a devilish look in his eyes. “It’s not
that
,” he replied. “It’s that I know how you are, and I’ve already heard rumblings about some of the women padding themselves to throw off their husbands during this game of ‘hunt your cunt’.”

“Easton Jamison Matthews,” I said, totally incensed, “that is the crudest thing I’ve ever heard. Really?”

“It’s the fucking truth, Darcy. And to be honest, I don’t fancy having to sit with some boring old hag because I mistook her for you.”

Oh, hell to the no!

“Get out,” I fumed, sinking lower into the bubbles, to obscure his view of my naked breasts. The fucking nerve of him to say something like that to me! This was supposed to be fun and mysterious. Sometimes I believed Easton had no clue how to just have fun…pure and simple fun.

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