Wet Girls

Irina was my friendly competition for the position of head of customer service. She and I—just us two girls—were stranded at a cabin. Two small rooms with a hot tub out back through the screen door. To pass the time, we had been playing Truth or Dare.
“Time for a dare,” she said.
“You can’t just jump to a dare.”
“Why not? Is there some sort of a rule against it?”
I scowled. Truth or Dare didn’t really have rules. “Okay,” I said. “What’s your dare?”
“I dare you to kiss me.”
Men were more my thing ...