Thirteen Hours by Meghan O'Brien Page B

Laurel asked, crawling back into Dana’s lap.
    “Here.” Dana reached up to thread her fingers through Laurel’s chestnut hair. Their mouths came together harder this time, and immediately Laurel parted her lips to deepen the kiss. Instinctively, Dana did the same.
    What ensued was the clumsiest, most teeth-clashing kiss Dana had ever had the misfortune to help create. As their mouths dueled in wet, awkward disharmony, Dana knew that it was she, with her lack of experience, who was responsible for the absolute messiness of their joining. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered, pulling away. Her cheeks burned with shame. “That was awful. I’m sorry.”
    “Honey, don’t you dare be sorry about that.” Laurel’s face shone with sympathetic affection. “Despite what they write in stories, first kisses are often less than perfect.”
    “You’re being generous.” Dana dropped her gaze to Laurel’s chest. And her bare breasts. “I’d say that was about as far from perfect as a first kiss could get.”
    “That’s what practicing is for, Dana. I’m up for it, if you are.”
    Sucking in a surprised lungful of air, Dana couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Practicing?”
    “Do you think I started out as a great kisser?” Laurel asked. “I had to be taught. I had to practice for years. This stuff takes work, woman.”
    “And you’re volunteering to practice with me?”
    “I’m insisting on it,” Laurel said. Their next kiss was slower, Laurel approaching with soft lips and hot breath, pressing their mouths together with infinite tenderness. Dana didn’t move, frozen with fear that she would turn this perfect moment sour. She felt Laurel smile against her lips. “Enough truth or dare.” Her lips brushed against Dana’s, sending an excited shiver skittering throughout her paralyzed body. “Let’s play a new game.”
    “What game?” Dana whispered.
    She felt the tip of Laurel’s tongue slide across her upper lip, then retreat so she could whisper, “Kissing lessons.”
    Dana trembled against Laurel’s supple body. “Sounds like fun.”
    “Oh, I think it will be. Want to go first?”
    Nodding, Dana managed a shaky exhalation. “Yes.”
    “Let me use my tongue,” Laurel whispered. “Just surrender to me for a few minutes, okay?”
    She’ll do all the work , Dana translated. She felt her entire body relax. Thank God. She tipped her head in agreement. “Do you think you could—”
    “What, darling?” Laurel licked at Dana’s lips again.
    “Put your shirt back on?” Dana requested, breathless. “I think it’d help with the nervous thing.”
    Laurel’s laugh caused her bare breasts to bounce gently in rhythm.
    “All right. Fair enough.” She twisted away to pull on her T-shirt.
    Dana felt mingled sorrow and relief when the pale yellow fabric once more covered those exceptional breasts. “Not that I don’t absolutely love them, you understand,” she murmured.
    “I understand.” Laurel smiled. “Should I put my jeans on, too?”
    “No. I think kissing lessons will be better with those off.”
    Laurel brought her face close to Dana’s again, nipping at her lower lip with gentle teeth. “It’ll work out perfectly for lesson three: using your whole body to full effect.” She swiped her tongue across Dana’s mouth. “Let me inside, sweetheart.”
    Parting her lips in wordless surrender, Dana accepted the gentle invasion of Laurel’s tongue with a grateful moan. She held still, letting Laurel explore her mouth with languid strokes, resisting the need to return her kiss with all the passionate urgency she felt. Instead, she concentrated on the taste of Laurel, on the feeling of her sharing herself so intimately, on the soft press of her lips and the silky wetness of her tongue.
    Laurel pulled back with a contented whimper. “Oh, you show great promise,” she said, her voice throaty with desire. “We’re ready for lesson two, I think.”
    “Lesson two?”
    “ Your tongue,” Laurel