Seduction of Moxie (18 page)

Moxie reclaimed the pen and wrote S-o-a-m-I in 36 Down before handing it back.

Violet completed 42 Across with T-e-l-l-m-e. She extended the writing implement as though daring Moxie to take it from her.

Moxie was feeling up to the challenge, and she filled the puzzle blocks with Y-o-u-m-a-k-e-m-e-a-c-h-e.

Violet tore the pen from her hand and scrawled “Meet me in bedroom 8” at the top of the puzzle.

She wrote “I’ll try” beside it, prompting Violet to jot “Try very, very hard” in a shaky script.

At that moment, Cotton sneezed.

“Fuck you,” Violet said innocently.

“Thank…” He caught himself in the midst of reflexively thanking her for a blessing. “Never mind.” He continued to glower, while Violet avoided his eye contact.

“So,” Irene said awkwardly. “What’s the news today?”

“Not much different from yesterday, I’m afraid,” Violet replied. “Poverty is still crippling the vast majority of the population, and shockingly, President Hoover’s sage policy of telling people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps somehow still isn’t working.”

“You’re blaming the president for the Depression?” Cotton asked, his voice laden with derision.

“No, but I am blaming him for not doing a goddamn thing about it, while around him, people are starving.”

He sighed. “This is why women should never have been given the vote.”

Moxie could feel it coming, and she inwardly braced for the gathering storm. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, glancing nervously at Irene.

“Because you prefer empty-headed, closed-mouthed little dishes who fetch your pipe, bake pies, and lie back and daydream of someone more attractive than you—long enough for you to ejaculate into her orifice of choice? Does a woman who not only understands current events but has opinions about them really threaten you that much?”

“Me? Threatened by a woman? Ha!”

Her gaze narrowed. “Then why are you here, guarding Moxie like she’s made of gold bullion?”

Cotton said nothing but looked livid as the waiter arrived with drinks and a plate of crusty bread.

“Bread,” Irene proclaimed. “Thank God.” When the waiter studied her strange response she added, “I
really
love bread.” She stuffed a small piece in her mouth as though to further illustrate her statement.

“Yes, miss,” the waiter said coldly. “Sir, may I get you a beverage?”

Cotton’s head was in his hands. “I suppose a gin would be out of the question,” he said weakly.

“They amended the Constitution because of dirty boozehounds like you,” Violet snapped, waggling her finger at him. “Waiter, might I be moved to a different table, please? This man offends my delicate sensibilities.”

“I’m sorry, miss. I don’t believe there is anywhere else for you to sit right now.”

“I understand,” she said, touching the waiter’s hand softly. “You’ve been very kind. Who would I speak to about having him removed from the train?”

“Hey,” Cotton shouted.

“That would be the conductor, miss.”

“Thanks so much. If he continues to bother me, I’ll be sure to report him.”

The waiter nodded and left the table hurriedly.

“What about my drink?” Cotton called after him. His attention snapped back to Violet. “Look here, bitch, that wasn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she replied flatly. “It was meant to demonstrate two things to you. First, just because you’re a white man of means, you’re not superior to anyone. I don’t answer to you, and you don’t control me. If I want you gone, I can make it happen. Secondly, I don’t like you. And the more time I spend in your company, the stronger that feeling gets.”

“I will
not
be spoken to in this manner,” he spat.

“You will, and you just were. Try to remember just how shitty it feels the next time you do it to someone else.” Violet stood and picked up her dog from beneath the table. “Ladies, Clitty and I would love to stay and continue discussing politics with you, but your lunch guest is a hinky bastard, something Clitty has very little tolerance for. Good day.”

As Violet walked out of the dining car, Moxie was crestfallen. So much for spending time together.

“If I’d known that was all it took to make her leave, I’d have been—what was it? hinky?—as soon as I sat down.” He looked smug.

“Oh, you were,” Irene said, stirring her coffee. “Trust me.”

“What
is
hinky, anyway?” he asked her.

“A shifty ass,” Moxie answered.

Cotton began to hum to himself.

*

When Wil finally stirred and ventured into her semi-private drawing room, it was well into the afternoon. Violet was slumped in a chair, dejected and bored.

“Good Lord, has some ecclesiastical militia invaded us?”

Violet shifted her eyes left, studying her for a moment, but otherwise did not move.

“Tsk, tsk.” Wil sat across from her and began to brush her hair. “I’ll take a guess and say that things with Moxie have not progressed as you hoped.”

“If that means not one damn bit, then your guess is right on the money, doll.”

“Is she waffling?”

“Not that I can tell. It’s her entourage that’s gumming up the works. They’re
always
with her.”

Wil looked sympathetic. “And her agent seems to be a real rank piece of meat.”

“I need to get them out of the way.”

“Do you want to shove them off the train?”

“I do, though obviously that can’t be the plan.”

“It’s exciting, though—planning to rub someone out. Makes me feel like I’m from Chicago.”

Wil’s elation bothered Violet. “Let’s try and devise something slightly less lethal.”

“Well, there’s always the old standby.”

“You mean fuck him?”

“Exactly! I’ll charm his cock right into my hand.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure you want that particular cock anywhere near you, Wil.”

“Well, that’s why I said my hand and not anywhere, you know, good.”

Violet chuckled. “I don’t doubt your seductive prowess, but earlier he referred to you as the other floozy. He may not be as willing as your average joe.”

“What? Goddamn it, I’m
the
floozy, and he better believe it.”

“Well, you may be handicapped by your association with me, coupled with his abysmal personality.”

Wil looked resolute. “Madam, I have yet to meet a heterosexual man who doesn’t want a slice of this pie, if you get me.” She pointed to her genitals.

“Oh, I get you, all right. Subtlety is not your strong suit. Would you like to wager?”

“You know I would.” Wil managed to look confident and promiscuous at the same time. “What are the stakes?”

Violet considered the question. “How about a night on the town?”

“Which consists of what?”

“Winner’s choice,” she said with a grin.

“That sounds very attractive. You have a bet, darling.”

“Wil, you don’t know how much I want you to win.”

“Until you just proposed the stakes, I wanted
you
to win.”

“Completely understandable. He is, after all, a douchebag of the highest degree.”

“Vice-chancellor Douchebag,” Wil announced regally.

“Is that higher than Monsignor Douchebag?”

“Yes, but below Cardinal Douchebag.”

“So what’s the plan, sister? All this waiting is killing me.”

*

Moxie flipped over three more cards and sighed. She wasn’t even paying attention anymore, and how sad was that? What did it mean when you faked a game of solitaire, for God’s sake? “C’mon, Irene. I’m dying in here. I just need a little walk.”

“I know where you want to walk to. Nancy Drew has you all figured out.”

“So you’re not bored at all?”

“Are you fooling? I’m going out of my
flipping
skull.
” She blew her bangs out of her eyes dramatically.

There was a knock from outside, and Moxie practically tripped as she leapt up to answer the door. Opening it revealed Violet and Wil.

“Hi there,” Violet said smoothly, lounging against the doorjamb.

“Hi,” Moxie whispered, her voice suddenly leaving her.

Wil pushed the door open farther with her foot. “We thought it might be pleasant to pass the time with you three.” She glanced into the drawing room. “Where’s Prime Minister Douchebag?”

“In his compartment, one car back.” Moxie happily stepped aside to let her guests enter.

“He has a bum stomach or something,” Irene answered. “Apparently travel food bothers him.”

“Pity,” Wil said insincerely as she reached deep into her cleavage to retrieve a silver flask. “Because I brought some brandy.”

Violet’s eyes brimmed with amusement. “And she’s warmed it already, for your convenience.”

“No extra charge,” Wil added. “I’m full service all the way.”

“Who would dare dispute that?” Violet asked.

Moxie retrieved some glasses and set them in front of Wil, who began to pour.

“Gee, I’ve never had brandy before,” Irene said, somewhat hesitantly.

Wil held a shot out to her. “Aphrodite’s nectar.”

She took it and stared into the amber liquid. “Sounds fancy.”

“Nearly as fancy as we are,” Violet said, holding her glass aloft.

Irene took a sip, and after a moment her eyes flew open wide. “Holy mackerel!”

“Now close your eyes,” Wil advised, “and inhale through your mouth.”

“Is it supposed to burn?”

Violet sat down and watched Irene intently. “That’s a sign of quality, sister.”

“Yes, the burn is bliss,” Wil said.

Moxie leaned in closely to Violet so she could whisper. “You’re not going to make her sick, are you?”

“No, Wil’s just a distraction. Though admittedly, she tends to have greater success distracting those with a penis.”

“As I would imagine.”

Violet stayed close to Moxie’s ear, but didn’t speak right away, causing Moxie’s body to react to her nearness. “You didn’t come to my room,” she finally said.

“I wanted to…want to.”

“You know.” The raspiness of Violet’s hushed tone made Moxie’s breath catch in her chest. “I’m fairly certain I’ve reached whatever my physical limitations are for sexual frustration.”

“I know what you mean.”

“What are we going to do about this?”

Moxie exhaled sharply. “I haven’t a fucking clue, but whatever it is, it needs to happen soon.”

Violet’s expression fluctuated between humor and ardor. “Once Wil has entranced your gal with her booze and stories, let’s slip out of here.”

“Cotton will be by in a little over an hour to take us to dinner.”

“I’ll tell Wil to hurry.”

Chapter Eleven

“And he was so big, I had to tell him to scram,” Wil said, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Irene gasped. “That can happen?”

“Sadly, yes. And I’ll have you know this snatch is not what most people would consider petite. I’ve had some fairly large things in there. Comfortably,” she added with a nod.

“So what did you say to him?”

“That he was joking if he thought I had a goddamn orifice that could accommodate that. After all, I’m not a fucking manhole.”

“You said it, sister,” Irene said, sipping from the flask again.

Behind them, Violet and Moxie sat beside each other, waiting for just the right moment to slip out of the room.

“Come on,” Violet said softly.

“Is it wrong that I want to hear the rest of this?” Moxie asked, intent on Wil’s tale of enormous genitalia.

Violet snaked her tongue lightly up Moxie’s ear. “It is, yes,” she murmured. “So wrong that I think you may need to be punished.”

“Let’s go,” she said suddenly, picking up Clitty in one hand and pulling Violet into a standing position with the other.

They crept out the drawing-room door, nearly colliding with an older couple who were on their way toward the rear of the train.

Politely letting them pass, Violet was suddenly panicked to see Cotton making his way through the same door they were en route to. Taking advantage of his distraction when he yielded to the old couple, she yanked Moxie in the opposite direction and through the door that led toward the front of the train.

As the door closed behind them, they froze. “Do you think he saw us?” Violet asked.

“If he did, we’ll know in about ten seconds.” Moxie looked around. “Where are we?”

“Looks like the baggage car.” Violet took Clitty from Moxie and set him on the floor. She then tugged Moxie into the corner behind a large stack of luggage. Before Moxie was able to say anything, Violet covered Moxie’s mouth with hers and laced her fingers through Moxie’s hair possessively.

Their tongues entwined, and Violet felt a fresh rush of desire as the kiss deepened and became more urgent.

“We don’t have long,” Violet said quietly. “And there are so many places on you that I want to taste.” She ventured down Moxie’s slender neck and grazed the tender flesh there with her teeth.

“God,” Moxie groaned, her fingers moving along Violet’s waist. “Is this one of them?”

“Yes.” Violet caressed Moxie’s breast through her dress, and the nipple grew taut and erect beneath her palm. “And so is this,” she added, bringing her mouth down to the breast to intensify the response. With the barrier of fabric in place, she boldly bit the soft tissue beneath to ensure that she got the reaction she wanted.

“Oh!”

Violet brought her face back up within inches of Moxie’s. “Shh. You can’t make any noise.”

“But—”

“Silence.” It was a whispered command, and coupled with Violet’s ardent gaze, Moxie heeded her with no further urging. Violet deftly pulled up the linen of Moxie’s dress to gain access to her thighs and marvelously round ass. Skimming over garters and stockings, Violet felt her heart nearly stop when she realized Moxie wasn’t wearing anything beneath her garter belt, and she had full, unimpeded access to where she most wanted to be.

She guided Moxie back a step, so she was now pressed up against a large steamer trunk. “Sit up here,” she commanded, and in one nimble movement, Moxie was seated before her, her dark eyes level with Violet’s.

The kissing resumed with greater urgency as Violet moved her fingers skillfully along the inside of Moxie’s shapely thighs and was rewarded with the most astounding wetness. Moxie’s desire felt so hot and slick that Violet couldn’t suppress a throaty murmur of approval. “I’d say you want this as much as I do,” she rasped, continuing to stroke her.