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Right now, Lydia needed to find her power. It was inconceivable that the first time she got to be with Halle, her mind would try to sabotage her with toxic self-doubt. No, she wouldn’t let that happen.

“Halle, can you go downstairs for 20 minutes?” Lydia had a plan! Halle looked confused and concerned. “Please, it’s important. Twenty minutes.”

“We don’t have t—”

“Halle Cartwright!” Finding her inner domme seemed to do the trick.

“Oh, bossy. I like it.” Lydia raised her eyebrows. Halle held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m going. I’ll keep Monty company.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Aye aye Captain.” Leaning forward, Halle pecked Lydia on the lips. Lydia forced herself to lean back, allowing Halle to leave. As soon as the bedroom door closed, Lydia shot off the bed like a rocket. Luckily, Lydia had fully unpacked her ensuite. It was time to beautify!

“See, this is why you should shave more,” Lydia muttered to herself, running both hands up her stubbly legs. “God, I look like a fucking grizzly.” Turning on the shower, Lydia jumped in, cursing herself for not waiting until the water was above freezing. Shaving legs with one hand while washing hair with the other was fun. Said no one ever! “Talk about multitasking.”

With 90 percent less hair on her legs, Lydia concentrated on her bush. “Christ, it’s a good job she can’t visit there for a while,” Lydia scoffed. “I need to book in for a wax or see if the local gardener has space for a trim.” Chuckling to herself, Lydia did her best to tame the bushy beast.

In under fifteen minutes, Lydia was smooth and clean, a far cry from the trash panda she’d resembled first thing this morning. Drying her hair and attempting to moisturise at the same time was an experience. Regardless, with five minutes to spare, Lydia was almost ready. Now for the lingerie.

The last time Lydia bought anything remotely sexy was almost four years ago, and even then, she only wore it once for all of five minutes. The moment she saw herself in the mirror and spotted the thong cutting into her hip fat, she’d taken them off and stuffed them in the bottom of her drawer, never to be seen again.

Steeling herself against the black thoughts that were bound to surface the moment the red and black lace covered her body, Lydia headed for her knicker drawer. It took several precious seconds to locate the required undergarments.

Closing her eyes, she slipped the thong on, and closed the clasp on the front closing push-up bra. Walking to the dreaded bathroom mirror—that for some unknown and masochistic reason Lydia had reinstalled in her new ensuite—Lydia regarded herself.

Of course, her eyes snapped to her hips. The thong still cut into her skin, but Lydia was determined to keep the lingerie on. A quick check of the clock on her bedroom wall told her she needed to haul ass. Halle would come back upstairs any second.

Skipping to the bed in unbridled excitement and nerves, Lydia momentarily paused. Should she lay on the bed? Stand at the end of it? Drape herself across the armchair in the corner of the room. “Jesus, seduction is a full-time bloody job!”

“Lyds? Are you talking to me?” Halle’s muffled voice rang through the door.

With her heart trying to climb out of her throat and butterflies attempting to fly out of her arse, Lydia was feeling anything but seductive. Oh, add the tampon string, trying to cut her in half, and things weren’t off to the sexiest start.

“One second!” Okay, she could do this. Crawling onto the bed, Lydia stayed on her knees, widening her stance. Putting her hands on her hips, Lydia did her very best to convey confidence and sexual prowess. One last fluff of her hair and she was ready. “Come in.”

If a door could open any slower, it would be a world record. Steadying her breath, Lydia watched as it opened centimetre by centimetre. The anticipation of witnessing Halle’s reaction was giving her palpitations.

Cathy was right. Lydia felt power surge through her instantly as she watched Halle become breathless. Frozen in Lydia’s doorway, the moment her eyes landed on Lydia’s half naked form. The feeling was almost physical.

Halle exhaled. “My God, Lydia, you are breath-taking.”

Maybe for the first time, Lydia believed what she was hearing. Past lovers often commented on her body, usually her breasts. But when they uttered words such as hot, stunning, fit, beautiful, they always fell flat. Lydia knew they were saying what they thought she wanted to hear.

And of course, who wouldn’t want to hear such compliments, but Lydia needed them to mean something deeper. Something that went beyond the immediate physicality of the situation. She needed to hear the sincerity. Halle had just given her that.

“Come here.” Crooking a finger, Lydia beckoned Halle closer. A smile crept onto her lips as she watched Halle stumble to get closer. As soon as Halle reached the foot of the bed, Lydia held up her hand. “Wait there.”

Crawling on all fours, Lydia sensually moved to Halle, who was almost hyperventilating. Walking her fingers up Halle’s torso, Lydia returned to her knees. Their faces were close, and Halle was clearly fighting the urge to take Lydia by the face and kiss her senseless. Another reason for Lydia to smile.

Empowered, ‌Lydia brushed her nose gently against Halle’s. Jesus, this woman smelt good. Was there such a thing as an odour fetish? Tentatively, Lydia swiped the tip of her tongue across Halle’s bottom lip. “I’m going to touch you now,” she whispered.

“Yes, please do,” Halle replied with a gasp and a rapid nod as Lydia bit down on her lip. Pulling back a few centimetres, Lydia looked Halle square in the eyes as her hands pulled up Halle’s jumper. As the expanse of copper skin was unveiled, Lydia did her best to continue her seduction when all she wanted to do was pull up a chair, grab some popcorn and stare at Halle’s mouth-watering abdomen for the rest of the day.

Dropping the sweater to the floor, Lydia’s hands went straight back to work. Using both index fingers, she dipped just below Halle’s jogging bottoms. Halle’s hips swayed unconsciously toward Lydia, seeking purchase.

Grinning widely, Lydia watched Halle close her eyes, tilt her head towards the ceiling and breathe deeply through her nose. Halle Cartwright was losing control and plain old Lydia Archer was the cause. Well, maybe not so plain after all.

Taking advantage of Halle’s weakening state, Lydia brought her lips close to Halle’s ear. “Hold on tight,” she breathed.