All The Wrong Places Part 3

Then I remembered Celine Griffin, who as far as I knew was single, and thought maybe I didn't need to be worrying overmuch about my options for three-ways and stolen hours with roaming girlfriends. Maybe some open one-on-one dinner-dancing-flirting-lovemaking nights might be in my future. I wouldn't make the mistake of thinking it was the beginning of something, but it would be far more than I had had in a very long while.

One of the attractions of the Sandzibel property is daylong childcare, and though I liked kids, I did not envy the staff who worked there at all. For every great, curious, interesting kid there are two that snivel and cry about everything. And every sniveler had an overprotective mother who just wouldn't let the kid have fun. The programs were very safe, and well-staffed. We got b.u.mps and bruises, and that included from the circus camp for the older kids, but that was all.

The sun was starting to heat up the cement near the lap pool, and sunbathers were slathering on the sun block. Sat.u.r.days were always a little different because the previous week's guests were allowed to linger, dine and use the facilities until they needed to depart for flights later in the day. The new guests would rub shoulders for a while with the old. Women were already pulling loungers side-by-side, and I shivered for a moment, antic.i.p.ating the poolside landscapes of the coming week.

"We were here the wrong week," I heard one of the male guests say to his poolside chum. "Major babe-o-rama."

His buddy, obviously quicker on the uptake, said back, "Go ahead, hit on one. I'll sew you back together."

I kept my chuckle to myself and arrived at the KidZone security gate to find Rhea listening patiently to a mother explain how her ten-year-old darling shouldn't try tumbling at circus camp because he could break a nail or something.

Rhea, clad in shorts and a club T-shirt, didn't look as if she was waiting to hear that her dissertation, "Mutton on Monday: Deconstruction of Food in the Novels of Jane Austen," had been accepted at the University of Southern Florida and she could officially append Ph.D. to her name. The mother was particularly shrill and Rhea did have, around the edges, a look like she couldn't believe this was all an advanced English degree had brought her so far. She needed a break.

At least my college work was in phys. ed. and I was actually doing that for a living, sort of. As fun as it was, I acknowledged, this was ultimately a dead-end job. I was hoping, with my good evaluations, to get moved to non-U.S. locations and see more of the world. Tess said the lifespan of a guest services representative with Club Worldwide, Inc., was about six years. I realized that she had to be in about year five. I wondered, before two toddlers grabbed my knees, what that would mean for her. For our... friendship.

Then I realized I was thinking about career prospects, and not ten minutes earlier I'd been musing about commitment and relationships and ethical dilemmas. Three hundred lesbians and that's what they brought out in me? It was pathetic!

"Well, how about we let him try just today-he really wants to. Carly and Adam will keep a very close eye on him," Rhea was saying. "And this is Brandy, one of the tumbling instructors."

I nodded encouragingly. "It teaches confidence and balance and they all love it."

The boy in question chimed in with, "Please, Mom? I'll be careful."

Another woman I had thought belonged to a different kid spoke up. "Sweetie, he's old enough. And he'll feel rotten to sit out when everyone else is having fun. You and I can sit by the pool and have a daiquiri for the first time in eleven years. That's why we're here."

Moms, they were lesbian moms. I grinned ear to ear and felt a strange but pervasive sense of pride. Wow. My people were here this week, and some of them were moms.

I was set upon by the toddlers again, and this time I gave chase. We'd had a running battle all week and it was time to show these desperadoes who was the law. That would be me, Sheriff Monsoon.

I hadn't quite proven my superiority when their parents came to claim them for a last good-bye. One protested it wasn't Sat.u.r.day yet, while the other said I was the best playmate ever. Rhea had eagerly headed over for her lunch, so I got the gooey parting hugs and smooches from several more of the kids before she got back. I have to say that part of the job is pretty cool. Kids give great hugs.

My hour ended, I went back for a more substantial lunch, pa.s.sing Tess and others in the main pool l.u.s.tily lampooning t.i.tanic. Various superheroes were called on to save poor Kate Winslet (played convincingly by Tess) from Jaws, the Pool Shark. I always wanted Kate to save herself, but Alicia-trapeze artist extraordinaire-was a treat to view in a Wonder Woman costume. It was the boots and the bustier that always made me sigh.

When I realized most of the Ladies of LOVE were ogling Wonder Woman, too, I grinned so hard my face hurt.

This was going to be a fabulous week.

Mid-afternoon on the Florida Gulf Coast can be muggy, overcast and hot. The first Afternoon of the Lesbians, as Rhea had termed it earlier, was no exception. The front had moved in quickly, and would soon move on, but the low rumble of offsh.o.r.e thunder was probably the reason why n.o.body showed up for the two p.m. Body Pump cla.s.s.

n.o.body but Celine Griffin, that is.

"Not at all," I a.s.sured her when she asked if I minded doing a cla.s.s for one. "I'd be happy to customize it for you. Is there any area you'd like to concentrate on this week?"

She regarded me with that clear blue-yellow stare. "What do you think?"

At one time that question would have thrown me into a regular tizzy. Few women or men like to be told their tummy or b.u.t.t or thighs need toning. Diplomacy was required. Celine Griffin, however, wasn't just anybody. She was somebody I would seriously like to have dinner with later. More than dinner. Something better than diplomacy was needed.

I walked slowly around her while she regarded me with amused tolerance. "You've worked hard on your abs and glutes, it shows. How's your back-any pain or stiffness?"

"No, not since I added a rigorous ab routine to my workout."

"Your trainer is good. You've got great all-around tone. If you want, we could do squats and lunges after a general workout. Thighs primarily, but great for calves and lifting the glutes."

"At my age, my glutes can use all the lifting they can get."

"Great." I risked a direct look. She was smiling. Okay, then. On went the music, up went our weights and for the next twenty minutes we worked out without saying more than necessary. I knew she was forty-five and I'd done the math. Nineteen years older than I was. I hoped I looked that good at forty-five. I tried to picture myself nearly twenty years in the future and it was impossible. The only thing I knew was that I wouldn't be working at this job. Personal Trainer to the Stars had a nice ring to it. Maybe I'd invent some new fitness craze and make millions selling the DVDs, Brandy Monsoon's All-Weather Workout or something like that.

On my third set of French lifts, I wondered what Tess saw in her future. As if my thoughts had conjured her up, Tess arrived, her hair still wet from the pool games.

"I thought I'd see if you were free, but you're both working hard, aren't you?"

"She's a s.a.d.i.s.t," Celine muttered between grunts.

I grinned. Celine was loving every minute, I could tell. "We're about to start some Bosu lunges."

"I've had enough of those for the day," Tess said. She gave me an inquiring look. Celine turned to pick up her towel and I answered Tess with a shrug.

Tess hesitated and I remembered her earlier offer. That was before I knew about the arrival of LOVE and I was pretty sure I didn't need to bother her for... help. If it wasn't Celine Griffin it would be somebody. Tess nodded brightly, like she understood, but there was a flash of something else as she took leave of us. As excited as I was by the thought of spending a night with a lesbian doing very lesbian things, I felt the strangest pang watching Tess walk away.

Vividly in my head I could hear her voice from the first night we were together. "So," she had said, "you like to be teased."

I breathed out a choked yes and for the next hour Tess stroked, nibbled, ma.s.saged and brushed every inch of my body except my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, inner thighs and c.u.n.t. I was high on her attention and all of the sensation. My heart was pounding so hard my vision blurred. Part of the time she held me against the wall, then finally she let me stretch out on the bed. I don't know how long she swept my back with her hair but my breathing was so rapid I was dizzy.

"Brandy," she finally whispered, very tenderly. "I don't know when you've had enough. I can do this for a long time, and I'm loving it, but I need to you tell me when you want me to f.u.c.k you."

My entire body jerked in response. "Now, now," I stammered. I was so wet I could smell it. n.o.body I'd ever been with had made me wait so long. Maybe, I had thought somewhat irrelevantly, if Tess was gay she wouldn't have been able to wait.

"Brandy?"

To my chagrin I realized Celine Griffin was looking at me expectantly. h.e.l.l, I'd forgotten where I was in the workout. I shouldn't be thinking about Tess, anyway. I realized I was wet, again, still, continuously it seemed today. "Sorry, I was thinking what would be best next. Bosu ball?"

"I have no idea what that is."

I showed her the half-dome workout b.a.l.l.s and we practiced balancing on them. "You can just stand on the ball for five minutes and you won't believe how many little muscles you have to use. Using them will help them define and compact."

"This is amazing," she agreed. "I bet I'm sore tomorrow. Especially my feet."

"Sign up for a ma.s.sage," I suggested.

Celine gave me a look that made something deep down inside me clench. "Do you give ma.s.sages?"

"Not officially," I said, then I firmly directed her into lunges. My entire body was screaming loudly that I wanted to get horizontal, vertical, diagonal, perpendicular, it didn't matter, as long as we both got very thoroughly satisfied, but I didn't want her to know that. Yet.

We were both drenched by the end of the forty-five-minute workout. "Be sure to drink a lot of water while you're here. The humidity just soaks it out of you and dehydration can level you in less than a day."

"Thanks." She slung a towel around her neck, and it framed her collarbone. We stared at each other and I felt next to naked. When I picked up my Bosu ball to stow in the large locker, she followed suit.

I leaned into the locker to get the ball into the best position so the door would close. The locker was large enough for mats and barbells, but the Bosu b.a.l.l.s were stressing its limits.

A wave of tingling goose pimples swept over me as Celine leaned in too, her body the length of mine. In my ear she said, "Here's the other one."

I shuddered. Her pelvis rocked against my a.s.s. Part of me couldn't believe this was happening-Celine Griffin!-while the rest of me had stopped thinking at all. I choked back a moan but couldn't stop my hips from moving in response to her.

The open door sheltered us temporarily and Celine had no doubt noticed that. Again, her low voice melted into my ear. "I think I'm not the only one who'd like a ma.s.sage."

We strained against each other for several heartbeats, then I moaned and pushed back against her. She was rolling my muscle shirt up my body and my sport bra went with it. I felt a pang of alarm and stiffened, then her hands lifted both of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s so that her fingers could pull firmly on my bare nipples.

I moaned, loudly, and, completely stunned, I felt a clenching inside my c.u.n.t that was very close to climax. First Paige, and now being touched by someone who obviously knew her way around a willing female body-I was in a serious state of need.

I had all my weight on my hands and I didn't want her to stop, but just as the inner "you're gonna lose your job, you idiot," alarms got loud enough for me to hear she was rolling my bra and shirt back down and stepping away.

My knees nearly buckled. I took several deep breaths, aware that I was blushing, hard, but finally I turned to face her.

"Have dinner with me," she said. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

It was just l.u.s.t, I told myself, looking at those amazing yellow-ringed blue eyes. l.u.s.t was fine with me. "I'm free at six-thirty, then there are skits and introductions at eight."

"Oh, I'd forgotten about the greeting falderal." She gave me a somewhat sheepish look. "And I have to have dinner with the tour people. I'm tour group staff, technically. I'd forgotten about that, too. What about a drink at ten?"

"That would be... great."

She stepped closer and I couldn't breathe. "You are the hottest woman I've seen in a long time. I intend to seduce you."

With a slow blink I hoped looked sultry or s.e.xy or alluring or anything except achingly needy, I said, "You already have."

She was pleased. It showed in her eyes. "Until ten, then. What do you drink?"

"Whatever you're pouring."

"How do you like your s.e.x?"

"With women." I was feeling more confident by the minute.

"I presumed that." She moved so close that her lips were nearly on mine. The thunder was moving closer. "I can cook in a wide range, but only what's on your menu."

I realized what she was asking and I didn't think I could pull off the sophistication of a string of acronyms and code words like in a personal ad.

My hesitation I'm sure spoke volumes, because she quickly added, "Given the reaction of that woman this morning, I do find it hard to believe you're not a little bit adventurous."

I blushed. "I, um-I'm not shy, but I'm not edgy either. Pain is a turnoff."

Her lips twitched. "Considering the workout you just put me through, I wouldn't have said that."

I laughed a little. "That's not the kind of pain I mean. There's nothing alarming about... stretching. Sensation is different from pain."

She nodded and all the humor left her eyes. I felt as if she were peeling me open. "I like to be in control, Brandy. That's what I'm trying to say. Will that be difficult for you?"

I sighed with some relief. "No. It should be okay. As long as..." I blushed.

"Finish the thought," she said firmly. "It's important."

"As long as I get to touch you back. That's, like, half the deal for me."

She laughed her lovely, throaty laugh, warm and truly amused. "Half the deal for me, too. I may be a bit of a top, but I'm not stone."

I joined her in laughter, and my foolish heart felt a twinge that was wholly inappropriate to the situation. Celine Griffin would leave next Sat.u.r.day and I would still be here. But laughing with her, feeling at ease even when I was completely turned on and distracted by visions of me on her bed, it felt wonderful. We spoke each other's language, and though many of my fellow staffers were fun and friendly, the other gay staffers were all men. Tess was the only one I really let go with, in laughter. And in s.e.x, I reminded myself. Laughter and s.e.x-there wasn't much more to happiness than that.

"I have to shower and change," I said reluctantly. "And then I have another hour at KidZone and a fitness staff meeting."

"Work's a b.i.t.c.h, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it beats being unemployed."

It was very awkward for just a moment and I admitted to myself that I didn't quite know what to do. We'd agreed to have s.e.x later, but how did I say good-bye until then? Pretend European casualness with a cheery au revoir? Shaking hands was right out.

Experience must have rewards, because Celine did exactly the right thing. She picked an imaginary hair off my shirt, then smoothed her hand lightly down my front. "Until later, then. I am looking forward to tonight with you." At least it was the right thing until she added, "I'm sure it will be memorable."

She walked away and I pondered why I felt a sudden chill. Wasn't a night of abandoned s.e.x with Celine Griffin-bona fide lesbian-what I wanted? And wasn't it a little bit late to be wondering what const.i.tuted "memorable" for her? Did I want to be merely memorable? It had seemed more than enough with Paige and the many like her, but with another d.y.k.e ... why did that seem inadequate?

I was halfway back to my quarters when the thunder broke overhead. Rain hissed over the concrete and landscaping, feeling wonderful on my skin. I was thinking too much, I decided. f.u.c.k now, think later.

As far as my schedule went, it had been a typical Sat.u.r.day. Randall spent the fitness staff meeting explaining how expensive the equipment was, then airing two complaints from the previous week. The first simply said that "that girl who teaches aerobics is rude." That narrowed it down to four of us, but none of us was taking credit. Any chance remark might have been taken the wrong way. Usually when I meant to be rude, I made sure people remembered my name.

The other complaint was that the music in the fitness center was too loud. We all blamed the volume on guests. Yes, we solemnly agreed that from now on if we observed that the music was too loud, we would turn it down to a manageable level. I recalled how the loud music that morning had covered the sounds Paige and I had made. Randall caught me smiling and treated me like a four-year-old by making me say, "Yes, sir, I think complaints are important."

"Not a word about the other two hundred people in our program last week, none of whom complained," I muttered to Tess as we left.

"I've heard a delicious rumor that Randall is getting transferred to Barbados."

"Oh, that would be great, not that he deserves it. Except with my luck I'd get transferred there, too."

Tess stopped walking for a moment. Village Square was just beyond us, and the early evening gathering of guests before dinner was underway. "Do you want to get transferred?"

"Eventually," I said. "I took this job to see the world, remember?"

"Yeah," Tess said. "I was just checking that you hadn't changed your mind." She abruptly hurried again toward the dining room. "There won't be any chocolate bread left."

"Especially with so many women here this week." So many lovely women, I thought, skirting women holding hands with each other or their children.

"Hola, Brandy," I heard from several of the kitchen staff as I slipped in to see if there was more spinach to fill the empty bowl at the salad bar. If not, I'd settle for romaine.

Cruz, who lived with his elderly mother and two equally elderly aunts, handed me a small bowl of freshly cut pineapple chunks, which I adore. From what I could follow in Spanish, he was saying thank you for my taking the time to write down some simple exercises that might help his mother's recently sprained ankle. I saw Jesus heading to the front with a fresh bowl of spinach and followed him quickly out of the kitchen before Rudy-prima donna master chef-saw me.

Tess had settled at a remote table where more staff people would eventually gather. We were free to dine with guests and otherwise mingle, but Sat.u.r.days the food was a little bit better than usual, while time was short before we were all required to be on hand for introductions. I scarfed down the raw spinach topped with ahi warmed in a basil marinade, then dug into the chocolate bread. "Thanks for not stealing my bread."

"You're welcome," Tess answered. There was no honor when it came to chocolate bread. She pointed with her fork as she munched on chicken and broccoli. "This week's tour staff. Those are the owners in the lead, and some of the entertainers. Well, I think you already know that, don't you?"

I followed her gesture and saw a party of eight women-my gaydar pinged eight distinct times, which felt wonderful-to a private table in the corner. One of them was Celine Griffin.