A Long List of Firsts: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

by Sabrina Kane

  But Chapter 25 was no joke. It was super-hot, inventive sex that went far beyond mere cunnilingus, fingers and vibrators.

  “After only a month of having sex with a woman and suddenly you’re a black belt?” Ainsley asked, smirking.

  Rachel stuck out her tongue and playfully smacked Ainsley’s hip.

  “Whatever!” she said. “I’ve probably read that chapter as much as you have.”

  Rachel suddenly rolled over on top of Ainsley. They were both nude and even though they’d both come not too long ago, they were both still on fire. Speaking for herself, Ainsley knew she wanted more tonight—a lot more—and from the look in Rachel’s eyes, so did she.

  Feeling Rachel topping her now, her breasts mashed against her own, Ainsley moaned.

  “Come on, baby,” Rachel said softly, pecking Ainsley’s lips with her own. “You know we both want it.”

  Ainsley moaned again. Chapter 25 with Rachel…What a wonderful concept.

  “Okay,” she said. “You pick out the three dildos and I’ll go get the honey and the chocolate.”

  Rachel’s eyes sparkled.

  “Don’t forget the teaspoon,” Rachel added.

  “Tablespoon,” Ainsley corrected.

  “Right,” Rachel responded. “Rope?”

  “I tend not to keep a lot of rope around but you can find stockings in the second drawer of my dresser.”

  Damn! Chapter 25 has a lot of elements…

  But Ainsley’s core was already reacting to the anticipation.

  This is going to be fun!

  Chapter 33

  Forty minutes later, they were in the emergency room at Scripps Memorial.

  “Ow!” Rachel yelped.

  “I told you, keep still!” Ainsley said.

  Rachel pouted but obeyed.

  They were in a charmless examination room, waiting for the X-ray results. Rachel was in a half-reclined position on the patient bed in the room while Ainsley was sitting in one of the uncomfortable-looking guest chairs, tapping her foot impatiently.

  Rachel had just learned that one of the advantages of dating a doctor was that when that doctor personally brought someone to the ER at the hospital where she worked, things moved rapidly. Especially if Doctor Girlfriend was not just any doctor, but a surgeon.

  Entering the ER, Ainsley had marched up to the registration counter and said, “I’m Dr. Ainsley Janowicz, Assistant Chief of General Surgery here. I want this woman to see Dr. Evans as soon as possible.”

  And boom! Just like that, the Red Sea parted and Rachel, being pushed in a wheelchair, was escorted into the examination area beyond and shown to the nearest empty room.

  Rachel had protested, of course. After all, the waiting room of the ER had been full of other patients and Rachel was sure that probably all of them needed more urgent attention than her. But Ainsley had told her that Dr. Evans wasn’t one of the ER docs; he was the chief resident of something-something-something—Rachel didn’t catch it.

  Now, Rachel shifted again on the bed and Ainsley glared at her.

  “What?” Rachel asked. “My butt is falling asleep!”

  Ainsley sighed, stood and helped Rachel adjust herself to a more comfortable position on the bed.

  “I like this side of you,” Rachel said with a smirk.

  Ainsley quirked an eyebrow. She sat on the edge of the bed and took Rachel’s hand.

  “Which side is that?” she asked.

  “This super-protective side,” Rachel answered. Earlier, back at Ainsley’s, when it happened and Rachel was howling in agony on the bedroom floor, Ainsley had asked, “What? What?” obvious panic in her voice.

  “I think I pulled a muscle!” Rachel had screeched. It had been agonizing. A sharp, piercing pain at the top of her inner thigh, right near where her leg joined her pelvis.

  “Shit!” Ainsley had exclaimed. “I knew this was going to happen! Get over here and untie me!”

  “I don’t think I can walk!”

  “Well, crawl!”

  “But I dropped the spoon and it bounced under the bed.”

  “Forget about the spoon!”

  Once Rachel had managed to untie her girlfriend, Ainsley had asked where it hurt and then pressed the area gently, Rachel wincing as she did so.

  She was certain it was nothing; just a pulled muscle but Ainsley had insisted they go to the ER, saying she was worried it might be a tear. And nothing could dissuade her.

  “My first sex injury,” Rachel said now.

  “How does it feel?” Ainsley asked, kissing Rachel’s fingers.

  “Better, actually,” Rachel said. This was true. The pain had subsided quite a bit by now.

  Ainsley cocked an eyebrow.

  “You were supposed to go left, not right,” she chided.

  “I thought you meant my left!” Rachel replied.

  “Your left? While you were doing what you were doing with that toy? Did you even read the book?”

  “Multiple times!” Rachel answered. “And it clearly states—”

  Just then the door to the room opened and a very handsome African-American man walked in carrying a folder. Not for the first time, Rachel considered that just a few weeks ago, pre-Ainsley, this doctor would have been exactly someone she would have flirted with. Even now, she checked his left hand, noticing the lack of a ring.

  Old habits die hard.

  “She’s perfectly fine, Ains,” Dr. Evans said.

  Ainsley got up and said, “Really?”

  “Yep.” Dr. Evans opened the folder and took out two X-ray sheets which he then attached to a lightbox on one of the walls. He turned it on and let Ainsley examine the pictures. “See? No tear.” He turned to Rachel. “My guess is you just strained it. Easy enough to do if you’re not careful. By the way, that muscle is called the gracilis.”

  “Gracilis,” Rachel repeated, trying out the new word with her mouth.

  Dr. Evans nodded.

  “It helps us move around,” he said with smile. “Put some heat on it tonight; try not to do too much and take it easy for a couple of days.”

  “I don’t have to, like, stay bedridden, do I?” Rachel inquired.

  “Nah. But take it slow when you do move about. You’ll probably be limping for a few days.”

  Ainsley said, “No volleyball tomorrow.”

  “Definitely no volleyball tomorrow,” Dr. Evans reiterated sternly, “or the next time you’ll be walking out of here on crutches.” He got a devilish twinkle in his eye. “Remember, you’re pushing thirty.”

  Rachel stuck her tongue out at him, knowing he was the type not to be insulted by it.

  “Thanks for reminding me,” she said.

  Dr. Evans told Rachel he’d give her a prescription for painkillers in case she needed them. Before he left the room, Ainsley opened her arms for a hug and embraced him.

  “You’re the best, Nate,” she said.

  “Anytime, my friend,” he replied. “Nice meeting you, Rachel.”

  “Thank you again so much!” Rachel said.

  Dr. Evans gave her a final wave and left the room. When they were alone, Ainsley came back to sit beside her.

  “God, is it weird that I’m still so horny?” Rachel asked, wincing a bit as she shifted her bottom on the bed.

  Ainsley smirked.

  “Well, we were in the middle of unfinished business,” she said.

  “That and seeing you be all sexy-bossy when we first got here,” Rachel purred, looping her arms around Ainsley’s neck. “That was hot! I mean, I was in excruciating pain at the time, but it was still hot.”

  “Mm-hm. Just don’t get any ideas. We’re done for the night. You’re on the injured list.”

  “What?” Rachel squawked. “That’s not fair! I want to keep having fun!”

  “Is that so?” Ainsley asked, her voice lowering to a sexy volume.

  “Yes,” Rachel murmured, her heartbeat increasing.

  “Would you like to start right here in this room?” Ains
ley asked, now ghosting Rachel’s ear with her lips.

  “Oh, fuck, baby! Yes, please!”

  “Okay, then,” Ainsley said. “Open your legs.”

  Rachel’s heart was thudding now.

  Hospital sex! Fuck yeah! I wonder if that door locks…

  But when she started to spread her thighs…

  “Owwwwww! Oh fuck!”

  A knife’s-edge sharp pain at the juncture of thigh and pelvis made her cry out and squeeze her eyes shut. She also pounded the mattress with both fists.

  Ainsley looked at her with a smug expression on her face.

  “We’re done for the night,” she repeated.

  Chapter 34

  Driving back to Carlsbad from Encinitas, Ainsley held Rachel’s hand as often as road conditions allowed.

  She was amazingly happy. Not at Rachel’s injury, of course, but at how right this all felt. Even though their night hadn’t gone exactly as either of them would have envisioned, Ainsley didn’t mind. In fact…

  She knew more days and nights wouldn’t go exactly as envisioned. That was just the way life worked. Plans change. Friends cancel. Flights get delayed. Restaurants lose reservations. People get sick. Injuries happen.

  Life was full of curveballs; it’s what made it simultaneously frustrating and exciting.

  And Ainsley knew more curveballs were coming. But it comforted her to imagine experiencing many of them with Rachel.

  She could put up with a delayed flight, for example, if Rachel was with her.

  Friends can’t make it out for dinner one night after all? No problem. She and Rachel could just order in.

  Car broke down on the highway? Inconvenient, sure. But waiting for a tow truck with Rachel didn’t sound like torture.

  Why is that?

  It hit her as she prepared to exit the I-5 onto Carlsbad Village Drive.

  It was because such curveballs represented one aspect of real life. Mundane, ordinary real life. The part of life which people didn’t Instagram or Snapchat about; like laundry or taking out the trash. A part of life not featured in rom-com movies or lesfic books because in rom-coms, friends always made it out for dinner, didn’t they? In lesfic books, flights never got delayed and girlfriends never got injured having sex.

  And even though Ainsley hoped there weren’t too many cancelled dinner plans, sex injuries or car breakdowns in her future (especially considering what she paid for her particular car), the point was that when such mundane, ordinary real life events occurred, she could bear them more as long as Rachel was part of her life’s fabric as well.

  “Sorry,” Rachel suddenly said from the passenger seat.

  Ainsley blinked. They were stopped at a traffic light and so she looked over at her girlfriend.

  “About?” she asked.

  “I’m sure the last thing you wanted to do was spend part of Saturday night at your job,” Rachel answered.

  “Baby, it’s fine,” Ainsley said, taking Rachel’s hand again. “The only thing which matters to me is that you’re not maimed for life.”

  Rachel laughed.

  “Oh god,” she said. “How would I explain that to my parents? I haven’t even had the conversation with them yet about me dating a woman. The last thing I need is for them thinking lesbian sex is so dangerous I’ll frequently end up hospitalized.” Her face got serious again. “I mean it, though. Thanks for taking care of me like you did.”

  Ainsley felt her heart swell.

  “I’ll always want to take care of you, Rachel,” she whispered. She swallowed. “If you’ll let me.”

  “Only if you let me take care of you also,” Rachel replied softly, meeting Ainsley’s eyes.

  “Fuck, Rach,” Ainsley began, wanting to burst out and say more.

  “I know,” Rachel said, biting her bottom lip.

  The air between them was charged, not with a sexual energy this time but an emotional one. Ainsley could swear that somehow their hearts were beating in sync and that in some fashion a portal had opened up which was now allowing their spirits to embrace.

  But suddenly, Ainsley chuckled.

  “Nope, nope, nope!” she said, shaking her head.

  Rachel looked confused.

  “What?” she asked.

  Still chuckling, Ainsley said, “I am not saying anything more while stuck at a traffic light on Pacific Avenue! What is it with you and I, huh?” The light turned green and she started driving again. “We start up these kinda serious conversations in the oddest places lately. The last time was in the bathroom, for Pete’s sake!”

  Rachel laughed.

  “Well, hurry up and get us back to your place!” she insisted. “I want this conversation to continue!”

  ***

  But when Ainsley turned onto her block less than two minutes later, she frowned and stopped her car in the middle of the street.

  Rachel glanced at her, then up ahead, then back at her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is there a cat in the road or something?”

  Ainsley shook her head but didn’t say anything right away.

  From where she had stopped the Porsche, her house was two driveways down on the right and clearly visible. The first thing she had noticed when turning onto the block was that there was a white car parked in front of her house. That by itself might not have been such a big deal. For all she knew, the car belonged to someone visiting a neighbor and would be gone by morning, if not sooner.

  But something else was unusual also…

  “My living room light is on,” she told Rachel.

  “Um…okay,” Rachel said. Ainsley could tell, using the kind of telepathy women seemed to have with one another, that Rachel had sensed what was bothering her; that she was also aware of the potential threat.

  “Are you sure you didn’t leave it on?” Rachel asked. “We were kind of distracted when we left.”

  Ainsley shook her head. Her palms were clammy now.

  “No, I swear I turned it off,” she stated. “I remember because when I hit the switch, I had my house keys in the same hand and somehow I dropped them.” She looked at Rachel. “Remember?”

  Nodding, Rachel said, “Yeah, I do. I had to hold onto the door frame while you bent to pick them up.” Rachel looked back ahead. “Shit!” And then she leaned forward, peering closely at something. “Fuck!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” Ainsley asked.

  “Ains, that looks a lot like the car that tried to run me over!”

  “Seriously?” Now Ainsley was feeling as if her blood was draining from her body.

  “I mean, it’s dark out now and there are a lot of white cars in the world but, yeah…”

  Ainsley made up her mind. She guided her own car to the curb in front of one of the other houses on the block and used the voice-assist dialing system to call 911.

  “Do not, under any circumstance, approach or go inside the house,” the dispatcher instructed her several moments later after Ainsley explained why she thought there was an intruder in her home. “A patrol car is on its way.”

  “Thank you,” Ainsley told him before disconnecting the call. She looked at Rachel and gave her a weak smile. “Now we just wait,” she said.

  Rachel smiled back but it was obvious how unsettled she was.

  “At least we’re not like those stupid people in the movies,” she said.

  “You mean the ones who would drive up to their house, suspect someone was inside and then go in anyway?”

  “Yep,” Rachel confirmed.

  Ainsley smirked.

  “Funny how most of those movies have male leads,” she said. She was trying to sound flippant and unconcerned but she knew she was failing. She was also wondering what the state of her house was. After all, the white car might really belong to a neighbor’s visitor and was completely unconnected to the fact that someone had turned on her living room light. In other words, it was possible that if she had been burgled that the thief or thieves were long gone, along with everything o
f value inside her lovely new home.

  Things can be replaced. Rachel cannot.

  Because the thought occurred to her that if she hadn’t been so observant when she had turned onto her block a few minutes ago and she and Rachel had interrupted a burglary, there was a good chance Rachel could have been hurt or worse.

  She shook her head briskly.

  That was a possibility she never wanted to consider.

  Her ears picked up a faint wailing sound which grew less and less faint with each passing second. A police siren. Soon she realized that another sound of sirens was coming from a different direction. This was something she never understood whenever she saw it in movies: When it was suspected that a crime was in progress, why do the police announce their impending arrival? Why not just kind of sneak up on the perpetrators and catch them unawares?

  “Why do the cops always do that?” Rachel asked, irritation evident in her voice. “It’s like they’re trying to get the bad guys to run so they have to chase them!”

  “Holy shit, I was just thinking the same thing!” Ainsley exclaimed.

  “Are you also thinking that if we see somebody running from your house we chase them instead?”

  “We?” Ainsley asked incredulously. “You couldn’t chase my uncle Bogdan and he’s been dead for seven years!”

  “A problem I wouldn’t have if you had positioned the third dildo correctly!” Rachel retorted.

  “Oh, we’re on this again?” Ainsley asked. “You were supposed to go left!”

  “My left!”

  “No, my left!” Ainsley shot back. “Chapter 25 is very specific, Rach, and if you don’t follow—”

  She was interrupted when suddenly the darkness of the street was filled with strobing blue, red and white lights. Up ahead, a police car turned the corner onto the block, its siren wailing, and then screeched to a stop in front of Ainsley’s house. Not even five seconds later, another police car came from behind Ainsley’s parked car and zoomed past, also screeching to a stop at her house.

  “Fuck!” Ainsley muttered. Despite the more important fact that there might actually be an intruder in her home, Ainsley couldn’t stop herself from thinking that she was going to have to bake a truckload of cookies and bring them to all her neighbors as a way of apologizing for this ruckus.