Double Booked: Part 2

The first thing we see ascending the stairs from below was the back of a pure black wide-brimmed woman’s hat that would not have looked out of place upon a wicked witch despite the lack of a central point. Below that we see a long wool trench coat, again in black, hugging the thick, curvaceous form of the woman inhabiting it. Before she made the turn around the banister at the top of the stairs we could also make out that she had on black leather gloves and black leather heeled boots whose hard soles clopped loudly against the hardwood of the stairs. As she takes the final two steps to stand level with us it becomes evident that this was a statuesque woman. In those heels she was a good half a foot taller than my five foot eight stature.

In stunned silence Daisy and I watch as the woman comes around the railing to freeze at the sight of us. The woman’s cold gray eyes do not widen in fear at the sight of the unexpected interlopers but narrow as her already stern expression hardens. Where my instincts were screaming ‘flight’ hers were chanting ‘fight’. The bangs of her shiny raven black hair were razor straight across the midpoint of her brows, the rest or her obsidian locks hanging down just past her shoulders. Highlighting her hair were streaks of pure white that were so stylish and perfectly accentuating her smooth porcelain complexion that they might have been added by her hairdresser yet I suspected that they were all natural. Between the frosted streaks, the very subtle crows feet at the corners of her steely eyes, and the overall maturity of her stunning good looks the woman looked to be in her mid-forties, a solid decade older than we were. She had a proud nose, full and shapely onyx painted lips, dark eye-liner around her large eyes and a half a dozen piercings of gleaming silver in nose, lip and ears. Beneath her open black coat she wore a blouse of pure white and a long skirt that matched the shade of her coat except for the faint gray lines of a subtle plaid pattern. The combination of her blouse and skirt with the narrow rectangular glasses across her scowling eyes blended a dose of stern, old-timey schoolmarm with her otherwise witchy vibe. From the front we could see that she was blessed with a bountiful bosom that matched the wide hips and full ass that we’d seen from behind. She seemed the opposite in every way of my slender and petite spouse. In height, thickness, and most of all aura this goth creature we’d just crossed paths with was larger than life.

A nudge to my back breaks my awe. “Um…”

With unnerving calm the woman reaches into her pocket and retrieves…a gleaming chrome derringer pistol!!!

“Oh God!” I yelp as she points it straight at my heart.

As one Daisy and I instinctively scramble backward from the danger until her back is pressed against the front door and mine into her. “Jeff! Do something!”

“P-Please! This is all some kind of…” I gulp. “…misunderstanding!”

Without a word she strides through the living room and kitchen toward us, her heels clack, clack, clacking against the polished oak floor, until she comes to tower over us with the muzzle of her fancy engraved gun hovers just inches from my chest.

“Please don’t kill us!” I beg, my voice cracking in fear.

She takes a long, hard look at us then reaches into an inner pocket with her left hand to produce a slender mahogany brown cigarillo. This she brings to her lips as she pulls the trigger of the gun!

“God no!” I throw my hands up as if they might stop a bullet.

Instead of a bang there is a small click as an intense blue flame ignites from the muzzle of the derringer. She brings the flame up to tip of her cigarillo and a moment later the end glows as she takes her first deep draw of smoke. The lighter is pocketed. Wisps of smoke curl from her lips as she holds her breath for a three count then blows it out over us like a dragon’s breath.

“Who in the hell are you?” She asks in a rich, sultry, dominating voice that sent shivers down my spine, through my balls, and out my dick.

Knowing that my wife was waiting for me to respond I had no choice but to be the one to answer, despite my still pounding heart. “W-We’re th-the…”

“Quit stuttering!”

“Eeep!” I flinch at the crack of her voice. “Yes, Ma’am!”

It was so very slight but I swear I catch the barest hint of a smirk curl left side of her ebon lips.

“Ma’am?” I hear Daisy whisper at my back.

“We’re the, um, guests?” I say.

“We rented this cabin for our honeymoon.” Daisy chimes in as she peeks around my head at the living goddess before us.

The dark lady stares down at me for an uncomfortably long time. The longer she stared the smaller I felt. As she loomed over me I couldn’t recall ever feeling so frightened…or aroused. A very confusing boner was rapidly growing in my pants, and I hadn’t even taken my special little pills yet. After taking me in she then lifts her head to peer over my shoulder at the red curls of my wife’s head.

“Honeymoon? You poor, naive fools. It’ll end in ruin and tears you know. It always does.” The woman steps back to give us room to move then takes another long draw of her cigarillo. The rich leathery scented smoke spreads from her mouth to create a veil between us through which her piercing gray eyes peer. “You have the wrong cabin I’m afraid. This is MY cabin. And YOU are trespassing.”

“Um…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing!” I shake my head. “W-We’ll just go then.”

“No we won’t!” Daisy retorts with a push to my back, feeling a lot braver than I was with a human shield between her and this woman. “We heard you on the phone just now. You rented just like we did. This isn’t your cabin at all.”

The woman bristles. “You were listening in on my private conversation!?”

“Not on purpose!” I cut in before my wife could reply. “Purely by accident. We just walked in and…well, the sound carried. Listen. There’s obviously been a terrible error here.”

“Obviously.” She says. “You’ve come to the wrong cabin.”

“No.” As Daisy pushes back I am cringing. God, how I hated confrontation! “This was definitely the right place. Tell her, Jeff. Do something!”

“Well…I, uh, I thought this was the right place.”

“Thought!? You know darn well this is our cabin.” My wife nudges me again. “Tell her that SHE has the wrong cabin and that SHE has to go.”

“Well, I, uh, um…”

“Pfff.” The woman spins on her heel. “We can settle this with a phone call then you two little mice can scurry on your way.”

“We’re not mice!” Daisy calls after her as she at last finds the courage to step out in front of me. “We’re not.” Then with an unamused glance my way she mutters. “Not both of us at least.” Well deserved but…ouch.

The woman heads back down stairs then shortly returns with the satellite phone against her ear. After a short invective laden conversation with the host of this property we hear her at last exclaim. “Double booked!? What kind of amateur operation are you running here?”

Turning to Daisy I take her hands. “See. It was just a simple mistake. It’s no big deal. Happens all the time.”

“No big deal?” She hisses to keep her voice from carrying. “What about HER? What about US?”

“Well…I, um…”

I hadn’t even had time to collect my thoughts before the woman is storming back upstairs again. “That dick head host double booked us.”

“That explains it then.” I say in a cordial, peace-making tone.

“Explains but does not solve.” Daisy says. “It’s a lucky break that your getaway fell through, huh?”

The woman raises an irked brow. “Lucky?”

“I mean for us.” Daisy hurries to add. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be callous. But…since it sounds like you and your guy won’t be using the place…and this trip means SOOO much to us…obviouslyyyy…” Daisy waits for the woman to finish what she felt was the clear solution to our situation. She does not get the response she is hoping for.

“Oh. I’m not going anywhere, little girl.”

“Little girl!?”

“You heard me.” She says. “You and your ‘man’ can scurry right back to the little lives from where you came.” The way she said ‘man’ you could just hear the quotations around it. “I am staying.”

“Now hold on.” Daisy says, her Irish blood now at a simmer. “We’ve waited a whole year for this honeymoon and…”

“Not my problem.” The woman cuts her off.

“Why should we be the ones…?” Daisy turns to me. “Jeff! Say something! Do something!”

“Uhhhh.” I look back and forth between them, my mind scrambling for any way to end this conflict as quickly as possible. I thought about arguing with the woman, really I did, but the moment she fixes her iron stare upon me I fold like a house of cards in a hurricane. “W-Well we were just saying that her car wouldn’t be able to make it back over that road. And she’s already been here awhile, probably unpacked and everything.”

“WHAT!? You’re taking HER side!?”

“Hold on, babe.” I try to placate my wife. “We’ll get a full refund for here. We saw that nice resort lodge in that cute little town on the way up here, remember?”

“Are you serious right now?” Daisy says. “We’ve been planning this for so long. What about all of our…” She looks at me intently then darts her gaze over toward the mat in front of the front door where I was supposed to ravish her the moment we entered. “…plans.”

“Well…um…sometimes plans change, right? We can…adapt. Baby, we’ll still have an awesome week together. And think about the story we’ll have to tell.”

“I can’t believe you!” My miffed spouse crosses her arms in a huff.

“Men.” The woman says flatly. “They’ll always let you down you in the end. Makes you wonder why we even bother.”

Letting the comment slide I take Daisy’s hand and gaze pleadingly into her emerald green eyes. “Let’s just get outta here.” I whisper. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

She sighs, clearly disappointed, but relents. “Fine.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” I say with a breath of relief. Turning to the woman I say. “It’s been…interesting. Sorry to bother you.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Daisy grumbles. “This just isn’t fair.”

Ignoring Daisy’s protest the woman gives a wave of her elegant hand. “Run along now, my dears. I have a date with a bottle of Tempranillo. At least it won’t let me down.”

***

One hour later Daisy and I are sitting in the truck parked right back in front of the cabin again. The previous sixty minutes had been the most difficult of our marriage and it wasn’t because of the road conditions. I had really wussed out the last time we were here and we both knew it. Daisy, to her credit, hadn’t said much about it on our ill-fated attempt back up the road but deep disappointment hung heavy in her silence. She knew of my timidity and cowardice and married me anyway, but it didn’t make letting her down any easier to bear.

“I suppose we can just sleep in the truck.”

“No, Jeff.” Daisy says. “I am not sleeping in the truck when there are perfectly good beds in there.”

“Yeah. Of course.” I say softly. With a fortifying breath I nod. “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later we are at the door, luggage in hand. A solid minute after my timid knock the door slowly swings open. Her coat, hat and heels were off but the dark woman was no less intimidating. A glass of red wine swirling in her right hand she raises a brow and says. “Yes?”

With rain pelting down behind us I look up at her and say. “Mudslide. The road’s gone. We can’t get back.”

“Probably not for a few days at least.” Daisy adds. “We’re all stranded up here.”

With a blank expression the woman looks from me to Daisy and back again then lets out a long and aggravated sigh before stepping to the side. “Come in out of the rain, then.”

“Thank you.” Daisy says as she scurries in out of the weather. I follow close behind. Setting down her suitcases my wife stands and says. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Understandable…considering.” She nods off toward the stairs down. “Talk about lousy timing, huh? Anyway, my name is Daisy and this is my husband Jeff.”

“Daisy. Jeffrey.” The woman nods to each of us as she swings the door closed behind her. Laying a hand across her chest she says. “Rosemary.”

“Oh, what a pretty name!” Daisy says brightly. Back in the truck we’d decided to try to play nice with this woman just until we could either escape or convince her to give up her hold on the place, but even I could see that she was pouring it on thick. As Daisy peels out of her jacket to reveal her lithe figure she spurs me to speak. “Isn’t that a pretty name, Jeff?”

“Yeah. It’s…nice.” I pull the wool hat from my shaggy blond head and glance up, making direct eye-contact just for a instant with my big baby blues. “Nice to meet you, Ma’am…I mean! Rosemary.”

For the first time something approaching an actual smile flits across her lips, though it is soon covered as she takes a sip of her wine. “Hmmm.”

Part 3