Welcome to Longborn

by MK McGowan

  “This might be a little cold at first,” Elizabeth warned. She scooped out a small bit of the oily substance and rubbed her hands together, the heat from her hands warming the oils a bit. Finally satisfied with the temperature and consistency, Elizabeth skimmed her palms over Darcy’s skin.

  Darcy’s sharp intake of breath had little to do with the temperature of the mixture, and Elizabeth smiled as she bent to her task, lightly coating every exposed inch of Darcy’s ass with the fragrant salve. Sliding her hands higher, she started massaging Darcy’s lower back, slowly, working her way to Darcy’s shoulders. She was rewarded with small groans of appreciation that she hoped to hear repeated in a slightly different context very soon. Finally, Elizabeth lay down.

  “I thought I was relaxed before,” Darcy muttered appreciatively. She opened her eyes and gazed blearily at Elizabeth lying next to her. It took only a moment to reach out and draw Elizabeth into a kiss. It started off as a gentle exploration, but within seconds, it gained in heat and intensity.

  Darcy slipped a hand around Elizabeth’s neck and tugged her closer. Then, without breaking the kiss, Darcy rolled fully over onto her back and pulled Elizabeth on top of her. She broke the kiss with a sudden gasp as she was brutally reminded of her recent injuries. She shoved Elizabeth off.

  Elizabeth misinterpreted the sudden move. She scrambled toward the other side of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Darcy looked at her in confusion while she tried to catch her breath. “Done what?” she asked.

  “Kissed you,” Elizabeth replied. “It was inappropriate and unprofessional.”

  Darcy stared at her like she was a bit dull.

  “First of all, I kissed you. And second, I didn’t shove you because I wanted you off me. Well, technically I did want you off me.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “But not the way you think,” she finished.

  Now Elizabeth was confused. Darcy certainly didn’t sound mad. “Then why?”

  “My ass,” Darcy said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “Your ass?”

  “It’s a bit tender. I forgot that. Until I rolled over on it,” Darcy said. She was embarrassed by her impulsive reaction, but it had been an instinctive response to a sudden and unexpected pain.

  Relief washed across Elizabeth’s face. “So you aren’t throwing me out?” Elizabeth clarified. She rolled up on her knees, but she didn’t move any further.

  Darcy got to her knees as well, and she started to crawl across the wide bed. “Oh no, I have no intentions of throwing you out, doctor. At least not tonight.”

  Elizabeth moved to meet Darcy half way. “So you wouldn’t have any objections if I kissed you again?” Elizabeth leaned forward.

  “None at all,” Darcy said. Nevertheless, she put her palm out to stop the woman’s progress toward her. “But, I do have one requirement.”

  “And that would be?” Not that it mattered. Elizabeth was fully prepared to go along with almost anything Darcy had in mind.

  Darcy leaned closer and whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, “I get to be on top.”

  Elizabeth nodded her head. “I can live with that.”

  Darcy slipped her right arm around Elizabeth’s waist and pulled her closer. She nuzzled her ear and began to kiss her way down Elizabeth’s neck. She slid her left hand up along the placket of Elizabeth’s shirt. When she reached the top button, she popped it open. The lower buttons quickly followed suit. When she reached the belt at Elizabeth’s waist, Darcy flipped it open and tugged her shirttail out. A quick flick of her hands, and Elizabeth was left breathless, clad only in her jeans and a plain cotton bra. Darcy leaned back a bit to admire the view.

  “That’s a good look for you. Much better than that ridiculous cowboy outfit,” she teased. Her forehead crinkled in concentration. “Now, lose the jeans,” she ordered, suddenly serious.

  Elizabeth rushed to comply. She unzipped her pants and shoved them down her thighs. Unfortunately, she was in such a hurry that she lost her balance and fell over sideways as she struggled to untangle herself from her own pants.

  “Argh!” Elizabeth cried out. She slapped the bed in frustration before she stopped moving altogether. She lay there embarrassed and breathless.

  Rather than laugh, Darcy reached out and snagged the hem of Elizabeth’s jeans. With a predatory glance, she gave each pants leg a sharp tug, and the jeans slid down a bit. She slowly pulled them down Elizabeth’s thighs. She laughed victoriously when a final tug pulled them completely free. Darcy tossed the jeans carelessly over her shoulder. She crawled toward Elizabeth and started a slow, seductive slide up her prone form. Darcy ran her hands along soft thighs, and she nuzzled Elizabeth’s belly button playfully. Darcy could feel rather than hear Elizabeth’s sudden laughter. Ticklish! That’s good to know. Darcy slowly proceeded to work her way up Elizabeth’s body. She placed soft kisses across every inch of exposed skin.

  Darcy felt hands in her hair, trying to speed and direct her attentions, but she was having none of that. She decided to ignore cotton-clad breasts for the time being and concentrated instead on a wonderfully exposed collarbone. That led naturally to the invitingly soft skin of Elizabeth’s neck. She bit down softly. She heard Elizabeth groan, and Darcy smiled. She couldn’t tell if it was a groan of appreciation or frustration. Either way, she liked it.

  After a few more groans, Darcy finally relented. She worked her way down a sharp jaw line and along a determined chin. She stopped to explore the slight dimple in said chin with a probing tongue. She finally arrived at Elizabeth’s soft lips, which parted in invitation. Darcy lifted her head and examined the face of the woman beneath her. Deep blue eyes gazed up at her with a hint of amusement and more than a hint of frustration. Darcy smiled.

  Knock! Knock!

  For a moment, neither woman moved.

  Knock! Knock! This time the knocks were louder and more determined.

  “Ignore them, maybe they’ll go away,” Elizabeth whispered hopefully. She reached up and captured Darcy’s lips in another determined kiss.

  “Room Service,” yelled a distinctly male voice from the other side of the door.

  Still, neither woman moved. It was the jangle of keys in the lock that forced them into action. Darcy leapt off the bed and raced toward the door, grabbing her robe on the way. She reached the door as it was sliding open. She slammed her palm against it and kept it shut. “Just a minute,” she yelled impatiently. “I’m not dressed.” She shoved her foot against the bottom of the door to hold it closed while she tied on her robe. Satisfied that nothing important was exposed, she opened the door a crack. “You can leave it out there,” she ordered.

  “Yes ma’am,” the bellhop said. He wheeled the tray into position in front of the door while Darcy turned back into the room to get money for his tip. She was rummaging futilely in her purse when Elizabeth pulled a few bills out of her front pocket. She handed them to Darcy.

  Darcy noticed, with no small degree of dismay, that Elizabeth was dressed again. She frowned and grabbed the money. She took it to the door and handed it to the young man.

  “Thank you,” he said, turning away. He yelled over his shoulder, “Hey, Elizabeth. Have a nice night.”

  Darcy could hear him laugh as he walked away. Obviously perplexed, she turned around to face Elizabeth. “The bellboy knows you by name?”

  “He’s my cousin Tom,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. “He saw me come in. And he told me your room number,” she offered as further explanation.

  Mystery solved, Darcy moved on to more important things. “Why are you dressed?” she asked. She firmed her jaw in determination. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Darcy was put out. For some reason, that struck Elizabeth as cute.

  “In my line of work, you learn to get dressed quickly,” she explained as she moved toward the door. As she came even with Darcy, she reached out and pulled her into a fierce kiss. Just as quickly, she let go. “It
comes in handy,” she said before she stepped into the hallway.

  Elizabeth wheeled the room service cart into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. She made a show of engaging the deadbolt and then pushed the cart past Darcy.

  “Dinner is served,” Elizabeth said with a wave, as she set to work arranging the table. When she was finally satisfied, she pulled the wine bottle out of the chiller and handed it to Darcy. “Would you open this? I always seem to spill it,” she confessed.

  “I can’t believe you’d rather eat than…,” Darcy waved her hand suggestively toward the bed.

  “I don’t see any reason why we can’t do both,” Elizabeth said. She was being disgustingly reasonable. “Besides, you need to keep your strength up.”

  “To heal?”

  Elizabeth arched her eyebrows. “Among other things.” She pulled out one of the chairs at the table and waved Darcy toward it. “Let’s eat.”

  Darcy smiled and picked up the wine bottle. She was inclined to be more forgiving now that she knew their earlier activities were merely delayed, not cancelled. She liked delayed. She could work with delayed. Delayed can even be fun. She reached for the corkscrew on the service cart and pierced the cork of the wine bottle. She twisted the screw, taking care to make each movement slow and pronounced. She smiled inwardly when she felt the belt of her robe slip loose. I couldn’t have planned that better.

  Elizabeth watched avidly as Darcy tucked the bottle into the crook of her elbow. She looked past the rich green color of the glass bottle and admired the growing expanse of Darcy’s exposed skin as the gap between the robe lapels widened. After a short struggle, the cork came out with a satisfying pop. Darcy held the bottle up in triumph, and they both pretended not to notice that Darcy’s robe was dangerously close to falling open.

  Darcy leaned over the table and filled each wineglass. “That looks great,” she said.

  “Yes, yes it does,” Elizabeth responded with a longing glance at Darcy’s tantalizing cleavage.

  Ha! That’ll teach you to prefer food over sex, Darcy thought. She decided to show some mercy. She moved away, belted her robe tighter, and gingerly sat down. She’d worked up quite an appetite. She took the cover off her meal thinking maybe Elizabeth had the right idea. The fragrant steam made her mouth water and her stomach growl.

  “See, I’m not the only one who’s starving,” Elizabeth said. She glanced at Darcy’s plate. “You’re having steak? I thought all Californians were vegetarians? By law or something,” she teased.

  Darcy looked over at the fish on Elizabeth’s plate. “I thought all Texans only ate beef,” she shot back.

  There was a third plate, still on the service cart. Darcy pointed. “What’s in there?” she asked.

  “Dessert,” Elizabeth replied. She dug into her salad.

  “I thought you were dessert?”

  “Play your cards right, and you can have both,” Elizabeth promised.

  Darcy smiled. They ate in silence for a few minutes. As the sexual tension faded, they weren’t sure how to relate to each other. After all, they had yet to have a civil conversation. Darcy decided that because they were in her room, it was up to her to get things started. She wanted to be a good hostess.

  “So, did you always want to be a doctor?” she asked.

  Elizabeth looked up from her plate. “No, when I was a little girl I wanted to be a lighthouse keeper.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “I love the relentless reliability of the ocean. And solitude.”

  Darcy thought that was a strange response for a woman who obviously got on well with people.

  “And yet you live hundreds of miles from the shore and must deal with dozens of people every day,” she said. She didn’t bother to hide her puzzlement, trying to draw the other woman out.

  Elizabeth smiled mysteriously but didn’t elaborate. “What about you? What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

  “I wanted to be a princess,” Darcy said seriously. “I wanted to live in a castle, wear pretty dresses, and tell people what to do all day. Mostly, I still do,” she admitted wryly.

  “So what is it exactly that you do for my cousin?” Elizabeth asked between bites.

  “I’m in charge of developing new properties. So far, Carolyn’s built two successful resorts and a cruise line. Now she’s looking for another market.”

  “And she thinks it’s here? In Longborn?” Elizabeth scoffed. She leaned forward in her chair. “Listen, I don’t know what she’s told you, but all she cares about Longborn is the oil and natural gas that’s underneath it.”

  Darcy refused to be drawn into an argument. “I only know what I’ve been told. Frankly, I’d agree with you about Longborn. I can’t see too many gay boys or girls wanting to hang out here, no matter how quaint. It’s a losing proposition all around, and I intend to tell her so as soon as I get back to California.” Darcy almost said “as soon as I get back to civilization,” but she caught herself just in time. It was never a good idea to insult someone before you slept with her.

  Even so, Elizabeth felt a little bit insulted on behalf of her hometown. “It’s not a necessarily a losing proposition. We do have big hunting and fishing seasons around here.”

  “Oh, like that makes a difference,” Darcy said, a little more scornfully than she intended.

  Stung by the deprecating tone, Elizabeth protested. “Millions of dollars are spent on outdoor sports every year, and I know for a fact that a lot of lesbians like to camp, hike, and water ski. Not to mention, those back-to-nature retreats that are popular with the sensitive, New Age male contingent.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth like she had lost her mind. “So now you want us to build a resort in Longborn?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “There isn’t going to be a resort,” she said with finality. “But that doesn’t mean one wouldn’t be successful,” she added, sticking her chin out pugnaciously.

  Darcy looked across at her dinner companion. She couldn’t believe they were arguing about this. Time to wrap this up and move on to more important things. Like getting Elizabeth out of those jeans again.

  “I’m sure that Longborn is an outdoor paradise and that a resort would be wildly successful,” Darcy said. “But that’s a moot point because I have it on good authority that the property isn’t available for development.”

  Elizabeth was perplexed. Why was Darcy being agreeable all of a sudden? She looked at Darcy suspiciously. Darcy smiled innocently and batted her eyelashes. Elizabeth burst out laughing. It was a delightful sound.

  “I’m being ridiculous,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m sorry. Let’s enjoy this wonderful meal that Carol Lynne is paying through the nose for.” She held up her wineglass for a toast. Darcy followed suit.

  “Here’s to Longborn, Texas, and the beautiful women who pass through here,” Elizabeth said.

  “And here’s to playing doctor,” Darcy added.

  They raised their glasses.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “That wasn’t half bad,” Elizabeth said, standing up from the table. “Much better than the candy bar I had for lunch.” She stepped over to the service cart and picked up the remaining covered plate. “And now for dessert.”

  Darcy had forgotten all about dessert. She was ready to move along to more carnal pursuits.

  Elizabeth brought the dish over to the table and set it down with a flourish. She lifted the cover like she was unveiling the crown jewels.

  “Pie?” Darcy’s expression fell. She was disappointed. She liked pie, but it hardly warranted such a buildup.

  Elizabeth smiled in the face of Darcy’s disappointment. “No, sugar, pie’s what you get up north. This is a cobbler. Peach cobbler, to be precise. I happen to know that this hotel buys their pies from Anna’s Bakery. She makes the second best cobblers in the state and has the blue ribbons to prove it.”

  Darcy was taken with Elizabeth’s enthusiasm. Who knew pie could be so important to someone? In her
family, there were two kinds of pie – frozen and burned. She couldn’t remember a Thanksgiving that hadn’t involved pumpkin pies and smoke alarms. Her mother was a single mom who put in at least 60 hours a week at the office. But on holidays, she always insisted on trying to make dinner for Darcy and her brother, Derrick. Darcy never understood why she bothered because she invariably screwed it up, and neither Darcy nor Derrick cared anyway. She shook off that memory.

  “So if Anna’s cobbler is second best, who makes the best?”

  Elizabeth patted her chest. “Me. Well, actually, my grandmother before she died. But she taught me and gave me her recipes.” She scooped some cobbler on a clean spoon and handed it to Darcy. “Now give that a try.”

  Darcy raised a brow dubiously, but she took a small bite anyway. She had to admit, the cobbler was fantastic. The peaches were tart but not overpoweringly so, and the crust was buttery and delicious. “Oh my God! That is amazing.”

  Elizabeth smiled with self-satisfaction. She sat down in her chair and scooped up some cobbler for herself. “I told you so. Just wait ‘til you try mine,” she said boastfully.

  Darcy did everything but lick her plate. She looked over at Elizabeth, lolling back in her chair, and an entirely different appetite came to the fore.

  “All full?” Darcy asked. She rose to her feet and came around the table, stopping beside Elizabeth’s chair.

  Elizabeth turned her chair to face Darcy and looked up at her. “Yep, I’m stuffed.”

  “Thoroughly satisfied?” Darcy asked.

  “Completely.”

  “Anything else you need to do?”

  Elizabeth shook her head no.

  “Good.”

  Darcy leaned down and placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. She moved in quickly for a kiss. Elizabeth tasted like peaches and sunlight. The kiss rapidly escalated, and before either woman knew what was happening, Darcy crawled into Elizabeth’s lap. Elizabeth leaned back even further, rewarding Darcy’s initiative by giving her better access.