Free Thirteen Hours by Meghan O'Brien

her speechless, Laurel pressed a soft kiss to her neck.
    “Was that the first time you told somebody?”
    Dana nodded, swiping at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.
    “I’ve got to tell you, I’m glad,” Laurel said. “When you told me you were straight, all I could think was that if that were true, what a waste.”
    “You don’t have to say that.”
    Laurel caressed the side of Dana’s face with her hand. “Of course I don’t have to say it.” Her blue eyes were sincere. “I mean it. You’re a very attractive woman. I told you that before, and I didn’t like you nearly as much then as I do now.”
    Red-faced, Dana managed a quiet, “Thank you.” She concentrated on the coolness of Laurel’s fingers against her heated skin. “I find you very attractive, too.”
    “Thank you.”
    Laurel’s hand lingered. Dana wanted to clap her own over it to prevent its withdrawal. The feel of that warm palm pressed against her cheek made her yearn for so much more. Her control seemed tenuous at best, no match for the intimacy of Laurel’s touch. She wanted to give in to the impulses that tugged her common sense away. No amount of rationalization worked. This was probably how people felt trapped together on a desert island, far from the real world and the rules they made for themselves. If she were honest she felt weirdly liberated, like she’d just exchanged a heavy suit of armor for a thin, shimmering skin.
    She wondered if Laurel had fallen under the same spell or if she was simply being herself because she didn’t have to have anyone’s permission for that. Not even her own. Dana couldn’t imagine being so unguarded.
    “Did you really know that I was a lesbian?” Dana asked.
    “I thought you looked like someone who appreciated other women. When I was on your lap, I felt thoroughly appreciated.” She smiled.
    “You know, before I got thrown off.”
    Dana nodded. “Scott must have figured it out, too, huh?”
    “Given that he hired me to dance for you, yeah, I think he probably knows. You never told him?” Laurel finally took back her hand, leaving Dana’s cheek wishing for a return of that soft warmth.
    Feeling bereft at the loss of contact, Dana said, “No. I…don’t talk to him about stuff like that.”
    “Well, I guess he knows you better than you realized.” Laurel hesitated a moment, then asked, “Do you still want to play?”
    Dana gave her a brave nod. No reason not to at this point.
    Laurel didn’t waste any time. “What’s one of your favorite sexual fantasies?” she asked directly. “Not necessarily something you’d do, but something you like thinking about?”
    Dana pressed her palms to her face. “I’m never going to go back to normal, you know. This blushing thing? I’m starting to think it’s permanent.”
    “Listen, woman, you watched me pretend to get myself off.”
    Laurel gave her a playful shove. “Asking you about a harmless little fantasy is hardly unfair after that.”
    Dana released a long-suffering sigh, raising her eyes to the ceiling of the elevator. There were so many to choose from. Fantasy, and the Internet, had been her only sexual outlets for so long, it was hard to know where to start.
    “I think about women, usually.” She conceded Laurel’s I-knew-it grin with a wry look. “Most of the time, actually.”
    “Specifics,” Laurel coaxed with her hand. “Give me specifics.”
    Dana cleared her throat. “I meet a woman—I don’t know where, that’s not really important. She takes me back to her place. When we get there, she pulls out these leather cuffs and gives them to me. She asks me to restrain her. And fuck her.”
    Laurel sat forward in eager attention. Her eyes sparkled. “Then what?”
    “I cuff her to the headboard. And then as she waits for me on the bed, I go to the drawer where she has the cuffs and some other… toys.”
    “Like?”
    Embarrassed, Dana could only manage to grin. “Like a strap-on.”
    “Ah.” Paying rapt