Frosting On The Cake 2: Second Helpings Part 8

(4 years).

Happily getting into the groove of bra.s.sy, boisterous, bodacious Las Vegas, I finally felt like I knew my way around our hotel. Nothing in a casino went in a straight line, but then again, I'm not that straight either. On the card table side of the ground floor, I had learned to walk on the left side to avoid the smoking area. In the next vaulted chamber, surrounded by marble columns and opulent fountains, I knew to bear right to avoid the line for the hotel's art museum.

Best of all, I knew exactly how to return to where I'd left Tess playing blackjack. There was something about the colors of this particular casino-the white walls, the blue dealer vests, the deep red leather chairs-that I found relaxing and inviting. I'd played video poker longer than I'd meant to and lost my stake. What did that matter when the card tables stretched out before me and there was Tess, perched on the same barstool, her long legs crossed at the knee?

The dealer was a tall, broad-shouldered black woman who was either a d.y.k.e or just really fond of women, because Tess's cleavage was getting plenty of attention. Well, someone would have to be dead and buried not to notice Tess and her luscious girls. There were actually an amazing number of really beautiful women in the casino, but none held a candle to Tess. That didn't mean I didn't look, but they made me feel the same as I did for the statues and art all around me-nice to look at, but not something I wanted to take home with me.

Just in case there was any question, though, I sidled up next to my love with a proprietary air.

"Hi babe. Hit me," Tess said.

I was pretty sure I was the babe, and that the dealer was supposed to do the hitting.

Tess gasped as the six landed on table. She flipped over a ten and a five. "Twenty-one!"

The dealer paid her off and grinned as Tess backed away from the table. "You've had quite a string of good luck. Taking the money and running?"

"I've just paid for our vacation." Tess flipped a chip back to the dealer. "Thanks."

"Thank you." The dealer pocketed the chip with a wink. "You two have a fun evening."

Tess dragged me across the casino to the cashier. "Let's get the cash before I change my mind. I'm lucky tonight."

And you're going to get lucky, I wanted to say, but that would be a cheap joke and I was trying to be more subtle these days. We were now gainfully employed tour guides with the most successful lesbian tour group. Though their clientele could appreciate the occasional really bawdy joke, most preferred a refined sense of humor. I was working on it.

"What shall we do for dinner?"

Tess turned from the cashier with a fistful of hundreds and twenties. She was glowing with her accomplishment. "Well, whatever it is, dinner's on me. And we don't need to go to a cheap buffet now."

"How about dinner in that dark little place on the mezzanine?"

"Sounds delightful," she said. We were on the elevator, holding hands, when she added, "You've got quite the cat in the cream look."

I shrugged, hoping I looked debonair and mysterious, a pet.i.te and female version of Cary Grant.

"Okay." Tess caught one of the male pa.s.sengers looking at us. She gave up one of her mega-wattage smiles. "I'm going to get lucky tonight."

The women behind us spluttered with laughter. I glanced over my shoulder-oh, d.y.k.es if they were a day old, and they were. One was no taller than I am, which was welcome, and the other was yet another gorgeous creature, tall and lithe, and about as curvaceous as Tess. I gave the short one a solidarity wink since we were both unquestionably lucky dogs.

The woman winked back as if to say, "Yeah, we both married up, didn't we?"

"Our floor, Marian." With a smile at us both, the taller woman pulled her girlfriend after her into the corridor. "If you're done flirting with the other cute little butch, that is."

"I was not flirting, it was-"

The doors closed and I wondered if I was, in fact, giving off a butch vibe these days. I'd always considered myself on the girly side for butch, though I despised handbags and required pockets in my clothes. I could don a little black dress and heels and not feel the least bit weird. Not that I was going to wear that tonight. I had other plans. I supposed, all in all, I was perfectly happy to be thought cute, whatever label anyone added after that.

When I casually put the harness on the bed, Tess said, "I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are."

"Oh."

"Do you like that idea?"

"Is that why you suggested the dark little place?"

"Yeah."

Tess planted a huge kiss on me. "I really am going to get lucky tonight, aren't I?"

"I'm the lucky one, baby." I kissed her back and it was a long, delicious minute before we resumed dressing for dinner.

"You say the sweetest things," Tess said as she finally let go of me.

"And that's not all." I reached into my suitcase and withdrew the surprise. "Happy anniversary."

"It's not our anniversary-oh wow. That's...wow."

I wiggled the package. Tess was a size queen and I loved finding new ways to make her eyes roll back in her head. "You like?"

"I think I'm going to like, yes." Her tongue darted over her lips and I thought it was highly likely that parts of her had just donned party hats and grabbed the maracas. "How on earth are you going to hide that in your pants?"

"Those baggy gangster pants you hate."

"Is that why you brought them? I love those pants now." She was still staring at the toy. "I like that shade of pink too."

"Thought you might."

"It's still not our anniversary."

"Sure it is. We've been together four years, five months and thirteen days."

"I love you." Tess gave the new toy one last fond look. "I'll just go get dressed."

I was glad she disappeared into the bathroom, because fiddling with the harness and fasteners is really not the s.e.xiest of moments. I finally got Lucky 7-as good a name as any-into the O-ring. It was a pushing, pulling, rolling challenge, and once that was done, I still had to get the harness onto me. I felt silly in the thing at such times. Never silly when I was actually going to get into bed with Tess-I felt alive and needed and incredibly turned on when getting into bed with Tess. But wiggling around and dancing in circles trying to pull up my pants and the toy catching on everything, well it wasn't debonair.

After a one-legged Watusi, I finally had the pants belted around my waist. It really felt weird. I had never worn the thing outside our apartment, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? I adjusted the pants on my hips and wriggled until the toy hung down one leg, only losing a few leg hairs in the process. The fabric of the pants wanted to stick to the toy, like silicon had magnetic properties near cotton. Then I realized why it felt weirder than I'd expected. I'd forgotten to put on the boxers. Bold enough to wear the toy outside of the room, but no way was I going without some kind of underwear on- Tess came out of the bathroom.

Breathe, I told myself.

She was a sensuous vision in a thigh-length aquamarine dress studded with copper beading. The halter neck made her seem even taller.

"I take it from the look on your face that you like this dress?"

I nodded. I had just about found my voice when Tess turned around. Her bare back put me back into the Land of No Breath. The high neck clasped with a twist of beads that dangled along Tess's spine. I wanted to lick my way up her back.

All for you, you incredibly lucky dog.

I watched her put on her favorite sandals. They weren't made for walking, and had, in fact, never been out of our apartment.

She looked up when she'd fastened the last buckle.

"Ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Don't you think you should put a shirt on?"

"Oh! c.r.a.p." I blushed furiously. "That dress is a walking crime."

"I just got it this morning. There was a guy selling dresses out of the back of his van. I only noticed because he had quite a crowd. Twenty bucks. I figured out later he was there to sell stuff to the escort service workers here for that convention." She gave Brandy a worried look. "I don't look like I'm for sale, do I?"

"I will make it plain you're spoken for."

She gave me one of those serious looks that said we would talk about the subject again.

"You don't look cheap or available for the asking, darling." I tucked in my shirt. "You look like the gorgeous, cla.s.sy creature you are. Not to mention young and attractive."

"You found that gray hair the other day, remember?"

Was that still bothering her? Dunce, I scolded myself. Next time don't point it out. "That was sun streaking."

"If you say so."

"How about this?" I balled my fists on my hips and walked toward Tess like Yul Brynner's King of Siam. "Go out with me, and everyone will know you're mine."

"You look magnificent."

I dropped the att.i.tude. "No, really. Can you see it? Does it show?"

Tess hesitated. "Maybe a little."

So, what was my choice here? Stay in because I was chicken or take the most beautiful woman in the world out for a delicious dinner, get her a little bit tipsy, a lot hot, then bring her back to our room for a night we wouldn't ever forget? Duh. "n.o.body is going to be looking at me."

I repeated that to myself all the way to the restaurant. Of course it felt like the entire world was staring at my crotch. The things love made me do... Thankfully, we were quickly seated, which put my crotch out of sight.

After studying the menu and flirting over a gla.s.s of wine, we decided to share what turned out to be a wonderful apple and pecan salad, and a perfect steak with Parmesan chips. I enjoyed every moment of watching Tess sparkle in the candlelight. My best friend, my lover-all the beauty in our relationship was on Tess's side of the table, as were most of the brains.

We shared dessert as well, and I found herself a little disappointed. "Your brownies are better than this one."

"It looks like chocolate," Tess said. "But I don't taste it."

"Kind of like cruise ship chocolate. Remember, I told you about the food on the boat?"

"And you told me about nearly being borrowed by that hot butch."

I grinned and shrugged. "She was awfully cute. But I really missed you, and I was thinking about your ankle and how you must be so sorry to be forced to sit at home. I know you wouldn't have minded if she'd borrowed me for a night, but..." I hadn't been able to admit to her that I'd backed out because I'd realized that n.o.body could touch me, reach into me, the way she did. The okay-to-be-borrowed rule was Tess's, even if neither of us had used it so far.

I didn't want to mess up a really good thing by appearing possessive all of a sudden, but I didn't need the rule.

Tess took my hand, her expression serious again, and I wondered what was bothering her. There was something, but I trusted she would bring it up. She wasn't afraid to talk about anything, and I had already unlearned many bad habits of resentful silence and pa.s.sive-aggressive fighting that I'd picked up from my dysfunctional, hateful family.

All she said was, "I have a Snickers bar in my suitcase. We could go back to the room for dessert."

"Oh, I'm having dessert in our room, most definitely." For just a moment, I didn't feel awkward as I shifted in my chair suggestively. Tess's quick little exhale was quite gratifying. Apparently, I could pull off the suave, seductive lover thing for a few seconds at a time.

The check paid and our intentions declared, we were back in the faux-fresco painted elevator when a crowd of curvy, slinky, high-heeled, coiffed and elaborately made-up women of all heights and colors crowded on with us.

"I want to dance all night," a bright-eyed Latina said.

"Our own private disco, in the penthouse. I love Vegas."

"Who has the invitation?"

The Latina made eye contact with Tess. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Tess shrugged. "Probably from around."

"Is that your girlfriend?"

Tess tucked my hand under her arm. "Yep."

"She looks really happy to see you."

I could feel a blush spread to the roots of my hair. All the women were giving me the once-over now, gazes lingering south of my waist. "I'm always happy to see her."

"Lucky her," the Latina said. "Maybe I'll get a dance later?"

"We're not-" I realized we'd missed our floor.

The doors opened to a blast of music and the women poured out of the elevator with delighted whoops. The security guard looked helpless as they pushed past him. Caught up in the rush, I found myself jostled along to the parquet dance floor that had been laid out in the suite's living room. It was packed with women, some of whom weren't wearing much. Not that I minded that part, but I had been hoping to see more of Tess, not a lot of women I didn't know.

"Do you want to stay?"

"Why not?" Tess tucked her little purse down my front pocket. "Dance with me, baby."

It was heaven. We hadn't been on vacation together in so long, and even when we did get to dance on tours and cruises, we were almost always still on the clock-being a tour guide meant there was no "off."

I swayed in Tess's arms, pulling her close, and closer still. Other women were making out as the music pulsed around them, so I felt perfectly natural pulling Tess down to me for the first of a dozen long, luscious kisses.

"You always wind me up," she finally said in my ear. "I'm so torn. I want to dance all night with you, but I also want to..." Her hand moved between us and I shuddered as she gripped the toy through my pants. "What a wonderful dilemma."

"Just because we're getting older and wiser doesn't mean we have to be silly." Ever resourceful, I took her by the hand, leading her away from the dance floor. "If we leave we might not be able to get back in."

I veered past the impromptu bar. Where there was a penthouse there had to be bedrooms. Before Tess, I'd had women in the resort's fitness room storage closet, behind the pool house, once even on the back of a Sea-Doo. Sneaking into a bedroom for a not-so-quickie was positively tame.