Thirteen Hours

by Meghan O'Brien

  “Nah,” Laurel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It doesn’t generally take much with men. Especially if I’m dancing for a woman. Guys love watching a woman give another woman a lap dance. They’re easy.”

  Dana felt sick with embarrassment at the very thought. “Thank God I was alone in the office. I doubt the guys I work with would have considered it very ‘hot’ at all. Not with me involved.”

  After long moments of intense visual examination that left Dana squirming where she sat, Laurel said, “You’re hard on yourself, aren’t you? Probably all the time?”

  Her voice was kind, but the question rattled Dana. Her head continued to ache. “You’re the one who deemed me the most boring woman alive earlier, remember?”

  Even in the dim light, she could see Laurel’s face flush.

  “I guess it’s my turn to be sorry,” Laurel said. “I don’t happen to think that’s true.”

  “Sometimes it is,” Dana admitted.

  “See? Too hard on yourself. You need to stop that.”

  Dana snorted. “I can’t make any promises. You know what they say about old habits.”

  “For the rest of the night, at least?”

  Laurel was so earnest in her request that Dana didn’t have the heart to refuse. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Mistress,” Laurel corrected.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ma’am makes me feel old. Mistress makes me feel like a kickass dominatrix or something.”

  Dana’s instinct was to retreat, but instead she did something uncharacteristic. She played along. “So be it, Mistress.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted in amusement. “Much better.”

  Dana chuckled, then winced at her growing awareness of the pain in her skull. Please, no, she thought to herself. Don’t let this be a bad one.

  “Something wrong?” Laurel asked.

  Dana concentrated hard on breathing, trying to stave off the massive headache that threatened. “Just a tension headache. I get them when I’m feeling anxious.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help? I wish I had some Tylenol.”

  “Just kill me.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” Laurel said. “I’m kind of starting to like you. Why don’t you lie down? You can’t be comfortable sitting all hunched over like that.”

  Dana gave the dingy carpeting a skeptical look. “I’m not lying down in here. It’s filthy. And there’s no room.”

  The pain in her head intensified, making her wince. Perfect. She was about to get the worst headache of her life while trapped in an elevator with a beautiful, nymphomaniac lesbian stripper who was almost a veterinarian. She groaned in self-disgust. What a loser.

  Before Dana could protest, Laurel crawled over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” Dana’s voice sounded loud and accusatory.

  Shock at Laurel’s touch gave way to plain agony, and she grabbed her head with both hands.

  Laurel pulled her closer. “Lie back on me. Put your head on my lap and just try to relax, okay?”

  Gritting her teeth, Dana tried to jerk away. “I’m fine. Get back on your own side. You’re making it worse.”

  “No, you’re the one doing that. If you’d just lie down, you’d feel better.”

  Dana released an explosive sigh. Her head felt so heavy and achy that it was all she could do to keep it upright. Laurel wouldn’t let go.

  “Stop fighting me,” she said, pulling Dana into her soft body.

  A thrill of pleasure shot through Dana when her arm pressed into Laurel’s generous breasts. She had to admit, her lap looked awfully inviting. Rather than struggle, she surprised herself by acquiescing. She shifted so that she could lay her head down on Laurel’s thigh, stretching her legs across the length of the elevator car.

  “Thank you,” Laurel whispered.

  Dana gazed up at the smooth skin of her cheeks, the elegant shape of her nose, and the deep, sincere blue of her eyes. Not good.

  She was never going to relax staring at this face. She turned onto her side, realizing only too late that she’d rolled the wrong way. Laurel’s stomach was directly in front of her. She took shallow breaths, trying hard not to think about how close her face was to the space between Laurel’s legs.

  “Comfortable?” Laurel whispered. Her stomach moved beneath her snug T-shirt as she spoke.

  “Oh, yes.” Two hours ago, it would have seemed impossible to be so close to such a beautiful woman. Dana still had trouble believing the elevator nightmare was really happening. It was the kind of far-fetched plot twist that made her grimace when she was reading a book. She moaned as Laurel’s hand found the tense, knotted muscles between her shoulder blades. “Oh, God, that feels good.”

  Laurel rubbed harder, hitting all the perfect spots, gradually relaxing Dana’s tortured muscles. “You like that?” There was a quiet satisfaction in her voice.

  “It feels amazing.” Incredibly, Dana felt her muscles loosen, and the tension in her head began to dissipate. Whimpering, she said, “My lower back hurts, too.”

  Laurel chuckled and moved her hand down along the path of Dana’s spine. “Was that a hint?”

  Dana burrowed closer. As silly as she felt accepting the tender attention, she couldn’t deny the effect it was having on her. The headache—so much worse than a normal episode—was fading away. A hot shower had nothing on Laurel’s soothing hands. And the sensation of being touched after so long without was nothing short of overwhelming.

  She would never admit to craving human contact, but Laurel’s long, deep massage made her more aware than ever of what she was missing.

  By not seeking relationships with other people, she thought she could avoid complications. Maybe that was valid. But the price seemed high, and she wondered if she’d been fooling herself, making justifications so she could avoid confronting the truth. Becoming a lonely, uptight workaholic was a pathetic way to deal with the fear of rejection.

  “God, you’re so stiff,” Laurel said. “So tense. No wonder your head is killing you.”

  “I’m sure the whole ‘trapped in an elevator’ thing triggered it this time.” And most likely the lap dance didn’t help. She hadn’t been that upset in a long time.

  “You really get these headaches a lot?”

  “Semiregularly,” Dana whispered. “I’m a little high stress sometimes.”

  To her credit, Laurel didn’t take that comment and run with it.

  “This is exactly why you need a Friday night off,” she said.

  Dana let the comment pass without argument. “Though preferably not inside a seven-foot by seven-foot space.”

  “True.” Laurel raked her fingers through Dana’s hair, scratching lightly across her scalp. The other hand continued to knead her lower back, no longer massaging as much as tracing distracted patterns.

  “How’s your head now?”

  Swimming. Dana resisted the urge to purr. She felt like a pile of jelly. “Maybe a little better.”

  “I can feel you starting to relax. See, it’s not so bad just letting go of your tension. Everyone needs that.”

  Laurel had no idea just how badly she needed it. “Um, do you think you could keep going for a minute?”

  “Oh, so you really like this?” Laurel’s voice was warm. She kneaded Dana’s lower back with renewed intensity.

  Forgetting her pain completely, Dana struggled not to orgasm right then and there. “It’s definitely…helping.”

  “Anything to help.”

  Laurel’s hands were made of magic. Dana was so grateful for the quick relief of her pain and the pleasure of the massage that she didn’t try to censor her words. “It feels so good to be touched.”

  She realized what she’d said, and how pathetic it sounded, when Laurel’s fingers faltered for a moment. Dana shifted, so she could sit up, but Laurel pressed a hand against the middle of her spine, holding her in place.

  “Don’t leave,” she said. “I’m en
joying this as much as you are. Takes my mind off being stuck in such a small space. Plus, I kind of like feeling as if I’m more than just a pain in your ass.”

  “Oh, you’ve always been more than just a pain in my ass,” Dana mumbled. “A thorn in my side, a cramp in my style, a—”

  “A song in your heart,” Laurel interrupted. “Don’t try and deny it. I’m a light in your life.”

  “Okay, so you’re right,” Dana said. “You’re a diamond in my rough.”

  Laurel made a small, disapproving sound.

  “No?” Dana looked up into Laurel’s face, which loomed over hers.

  “No. We were on a roll, but—”

  “I ruined it, huh?”

  They traded goofy grins.

  “You know”—Dana broke their eye contact—”I’m feeling a lot better.”

  “I fixed you?” Laurel’s sunny smile made her look young and impossibly pretty.

  “I guess you did.” Dana felt sheepish about their continued contact, hyperaware of the weight and warmth of Laurel’s hand resting on her stomach. Now that her headache had passed, her bad case of nerves returned. Stiffening, she said, “I guess I should sit up now.”

  “If you insist.”

  Dana mourned the loss of those fingers from her hair, but gave Laurel a nonchalant grin that belied her inner turmoil. She settled against the wall, her shoulder brushing Laurel’s. She rather enjoyed the warm infusion of heat where their bodies touched. Greedily, she didn’t want to give up this innocent contact.

  “Do you want me to get back on my own side now?” Laurel asked without enthusiasm.

  “Nah.” Dana managed an absent shrug, hoping like hell that Laurel couldn’t hear her heart beating. “You can stay here, if you want.”

  “It is less lonely next to you. And not nearly so cold.”

  A manic giggle tickled the back of Dana’s throat as Laurel leaned into her. This was flirting, wasn’t it? She enjoyed the thought for a beat, then remembered something that wiped the giddy amusement away in an instant. Shit. I have no fucking idea how to flirt. In grand Dana Watts style, she managed a heavy-handed response that was nothing at all like what she really wanted to say. “Are you coming on to me?”

  Laurel blinked rapidly. “Of course not. You’re not a lesbian, remember?”

  Oh, yeah. Summoning the courage, Dana asked something she suddenly needed to know. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Laurel gave her a shy smile. “I told you I was single, remember?”

  “You told me you didn’t have a boyfriend, because you’re a lesbian. You never told me you were single.”

  “Well, I’m single. Does that mean I’m allowed to flirt?”

  Dana’s heart thump-thumped. Face hot, she forced herself to continue the playful conversation. “I thought you weren’t coming on to me.”

  “That was before I realized that you cared whether or not I had a girlfriend,” Laurel said. “Now I’ve decided to admit that I was coming on to you. A little.”

  “I never said I cared whether or not you were single. I just wondered.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  “Now I do.” Dana moved her gaze rapid-fire over every inch of the elevator car in a kind of desperation to figure out what to say next.

  She locked onto Laurel’s backpack. “Do you have any snacks in your bag?”

  Laurel gave her a knowing smile. “I might. Craving anything in particular?”

  “How about a nice slice of angel food cake with chocolate whipped cream topping?”

  “I don’t know about that, but I’ll see what I can do.” Laurel reached across the elevator car for her backpack, her bottom thrusting into the air only inches away from Dana’s arm.

  She had a lovely shape, and it occurred to Dana just how easy it would be to give her ass a nice squeeze. She flinched in shock at her own thoughts. Good. Now I’m on the verge of assaulting her. Laurel had only allowed herself to be groped earlier because Scott had paid for her professional services. Dana moved her hand discreetly beneath her thigh, trapping it against the floor. Don’t go and make a fool of yourself now.

  Laurel sat back and extracted something from her backpack, asking, “Special K bar? I’ve only got one. It’s peaches and berries.”

  Dana’s stomach growled. “You’d be my hero if you split it with me. I skipped lunch, and hadn’t gotten around to dinner yet.”

  “Take it. It’s yours.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” Dana’s hand twitched beneath her thigh, eager to snatch the bar. “I don’t want to take your only piece of food.”

  “I didn’t say it was the only thing I had. I’ve got some dessert that I thought we’d save for later.”

  Dana wasn’t in the mood to be stoic. “Okay,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Laurel handed it over with an easy smile. “That’s probably another reason you got a headache. You shouldn’t be skipping meals.”

  Dana rolled her eyes and tore off the wrapper with gusto. She took a healthy bite and chewed, letting her eyes close at the pleasant flavor.

  “This is ambrosia,” she moaned.

  Laurel laughed. “Shit, if I’d known that all it would take was a back rub and a breakfast bar, I would’ve soothed the savage beast a couple of hours ago.”

  “With me, slow and easy is best. Dropping out of ‘bitch mode’ too fast causes whiplash, or so I’m told.”

  “Slow and easy, huh?” Laurel gave Dana a shit-eating grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You do that,” Dana murmured, then blinked in shock. She was actually flirting back.

  And if the look on Laurel’s face was any indication, she was doing it well.

  HOUR SIX—12:00 A.M.

  Why the hell do you have whipped cream in your bag?”

  Laurel’s face was a delightful shade of rosy pink. She broke their eye contact, gazing down at the floor. “It was…”

  Dana got the feeling that she was being obtuse, but she honestly didn’t understand Laurel’s embarrassment. “For dessert?” she asked.

  “For my breasts.” Laurel reached into her backpack and pulled out a small box of birthday candles. “Happy birthday.”

  Dana handed the can of whipped cream back to Laurel. “You were going to let me—”

  “Lick it off. Yes.” Laurel shoved the can of whipped cream and the box of candles back into her bag, not meeting Dana’s eyes. “You think I’m a complete slut, right?”

  Strangely, that had been the last thought on Dana’s mind. No, I think you’re a goddamn wet dream. She was relieved that her birthday surprise had ended before she was confronted with cream-tipped nipples. Most people would probably take that opportunity and run with it, but she would have blown it. She did blow it.

  “That doesn’t make you uncomfortable?” she asked, shifting the focus away from her own responses. “Letting some stranger just…put her mouth on you?”

  “It’s not like a regular part of my act or anything.” Laurel shifted away. It was only a few inches, but Dana felt the loss. “I just figured—a female client. I don’t know, I thought it might be pretty hot.”

  She was clearly uncomfortable, and Dana wished she’d been more tactful. Trying to make her feel better, she said, “I love whipped cream. And I suspect that it’s even better when served on perfect breasts.”

  Having placed her supposed heterosexuality in doubt, she expected a mocking reply, but Laurel gave her a shy smile that made the admission worthwhile.

  “Thanks, Dana.” She thrust her hand back into the depths of her bag and pulled out an object that made Dana moan in anticipation.

  Waving the Hershey’s chocolate bar in front of Dana’s face, she asked, “Hungry?”

  When Dana reached out as if to grab the chocolate bar, Laurel snapped it away.

  “You never said dessert would be conditional.” Dana sighed.

  “I’m sure you’ll earn it. I’m easy to please.”

  “Oh, really?” Dana drawled. D
amn, flirting was fun. “Easy to please? I guess I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You do that.”

  “Anything else? What other wonders do you have in there?”

  Breaking into a wide grin, Laurel withdrew two books. The one she handed to Dana was slightly battered and obviously well loved.

  Dana was immediately riveted to the cover image of two beautiful women engaged in a sensual kiss. The title of the book was Stories for the Long Night: A Collection of Lesbian Erotica. Instantly turned on, she was unable to form a sentence. She reached for the other book.

  “Emergency Procedures for the Small Animal Veterinarian,” she read aloud. “A little light reading?”

  “It’s for one of the classes I took. It’s actually a really good text.”

  Laurel followed the books with a stethoscope, which she caressed with mock-seductive coyness. “How about this for excitement?”

  “I guess we’re covered if we want to play doctor later,” Dana said, holding her gaze.

  Laurel released a shaky breath. “Don’t tease the lesbian. It’s been…forever since I played a good game of doctor.”

  The desire in Laurel’s voice was obvious. Did I really do that?

  Dana grinned, growing warm inside. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, giving Laurel a sidelong glance, “We have to finish this game first, at least.”

  Laurel set the stethoscope on the growing pile of stuff and hauled out a nylon bag. “Blanket in a bag. Essential for the student preferring to lunch by the river between classes.”

  “You can fit an actual blanket in that thing?”

  “Yes. A warm gray fleece one. Maybe if you’re really nice, I’ll let you share it later. If you decide you need to nap or something.” She peered into her bag. “That’s about it. There’s just my wallet.”

  Dana settled back against the wall, glancing at her wristwatch.

  “We’re probably going to be stuck in here for at least another seven hours, so I’m thinking we could kill five or ten minutes with your wallet.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a wallet so you can reciprocate with this little show and tell?”

  Dana shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s in my office.” She delved into her pockets and pulled out the contents, reporting, “I’ve got half a roll of Life Savers, two quarters, the receipt from the muffin I bought on the way to work this morning, and some pocket lint.”