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Nicola Albright standing beside her, with wonderful bare arms, strangely happy and sending her thrilling side eye at being told what to do – that certainly had an appeal. Geeta couldn’t stop smiling. She glowed after stepping into Nicola’s space and resting a hand on her chest to command her.

Well, it was her birthday. She was allowed the guilty pleasure of putting Nicola in her place.

She loved how the stars of lines came out around Nicola’s eyes when she smirked at Geeta for doing just that. And now Nicola obliged her, by cutting up mango for a quick, cheat chutney.

The tall woman swayed to the music as she diced.

“Oh, I love this one,” Nicola said.

She sang to a low-voice Gaga, the tones a perfect match for husky Nicola, then accentuated her expressions to fit the video version of the song. Geeta laughed. Not what she expected of Nicola. Although, none of this was what she expected of her. Not the movement of her hips in time to the music. Not doing as she was told.

And, oh my god, not belting out the chorus.

Geeta turned to stare at Nicola, who breathed in deep and summoned an absolute demon of a voice to match Gaga.

“What the...?”

She slapped the stop button and left Nicola hanging.

“Oh,” Nicola said, then threw her head back, laughing. “Was I annoying you?”

“What...? What the heck, Nicola?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“What–” Oh bloody hell. The barrister had her tangled up in whats. “What the heck is that voice?”

“Oh, I know.” Nicola dropped her weight to one side. “It’s not as consistent as it was. Age, I think, and lack of practice. When based in London, I sang regularly in an amateur group, but things came up and–”

“You can sing!” Is what she meant.

“Well yes.” Nicola looked at her, as if stupid. Nicola didn’t usually do that. Not to her anyway. “I said I was a choral scholar at college?”

Yes, she had, but Geeta had imagined voices of angels and children kind of singing, rather than belting it out like a Valkyrie.

“I’m a lyric mezzo soprano. Used to be fairly strong.” Nicola shrugged. “Very useful having a trained voice that travels in court.”

Geeta stared at her.

“You don’t get the parts as often as sopranos. I can only hit the high notes in my head voice.” Nicola waved a hand in the air. “I didn't have the power at that range. So I never pursued it properly after college.” She shrugged again. “Although I once sang the Habanera aria from Carmen on stage. Sometimes I think I became a barrister for the same buzz.”

She still stared.

Nicola must have assumed she didn’t know the piece.

“You’ll recognise it.” And the tall woman breathed in deep to her stomach and stepped back. She put a hand up. “It’s actually quite powerful close up.”

Then Nicola purred out a line in French about love, a rebellious bird.

And oh my god. Geeta loved it. The velvety notes sounded as if they started way down low and hit Geeta down low too. Like drinking in rich dark chocolate that slipped inside with silky warmth. Her mind hummed, her lips tingled, as if she drank in the smoothness of that sound. It soothed everywhere with the sweetness of honey, the fire of pepper, and seduced with cacao.

That was...potent. Nicola was always potent, but like this, Geeta felt drugged.

Nicola tilted her head. “You see?”

Geeta blinked and inhaled quickly, attempting to cool inside her heated body.

“Or Abba? Frida?”

As if Geeta didn’t understand, when she did down to her bones.

Nicola swept up Geeta’s phone and tapped in a search, and Abba sang about money.

“Ah see, this is my favourite. Frida didn’t get as many leads, but this is my voice range, so I love this one.”

And Nicola purred along to finding a wealthy man, wanting to fool around and have a very nice time.

Geeta knew what she meant, but couldn’t stop Nicola from singing. Because she was stunned by this version of her. When that arrogance became playful and slipped into appealing confidence. When that annoying drive was gusto and enthusiasm for everything in life, from food to song. When Nicola fired on all senses. Oh, she was highly susceptible to this.

“I always liked Frida,” Nicola said.

Geeta swallowed and heard herself say. “I liked their legs.”

She thought of tight-fitting seventies outfits. That was a decade that did legs. Eighties did shoulders. Nicola would have excelled that decade, even without the shoulder pads. And she’d have rocked the seventies too with those long legs. Nicola bloody Albright was clearly rocking every decade.

Nicola side eyed her. “Is that because you have magnificent thighs yourself?” And the accompanying smile flirted as much as it teased, and she was suddenly aware of her own thighs and Nicola’s attention on them.

Geeta laughed, intoxicated by Nicola’s singing and suggestion, that made her mind swirl and body pulse.

She shook her head. “I wasn't thinking of mine.”

She realised she’d always liked women’s thighs and the thought of how soft they’d be. She breathed in. She mustn’t think of Nicola’s Albright’s thighs. Do not think of Nicola’s long legs, swaying beside her, and the smooth cavity as they stroked together. Do not think of the curve of her hips or the dip to her waist. Or the way the tailored dress fit snug to Nicola's chest, or notice that she had full, Geeta would say, sizeable breasts.

For goodness' sake. She breathed in and looked away. They were the same size as her own – a not particularly rare C to D cup, probably. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to stare at.

Nicola leant over her shoulder a moment.

Oh, they felt soft though. Geeta melted.

The sumptuous padded touch on her back sent fuzzy thrills everywhere. Caressing up her neck, tantalising round her chest, delicately seducing like a drop of erotic sedative.

“Let’s have that again,” Nicola said, leaning over further and tapping the player.

Those cushions nudging into her? Pillowy heaven.

What was she doing? She slapped her hand on the kitchen surface. Dammit. Stop falling like a sap for Nicola Albright. Geeta saw people trip over themselves every day for her.

“This was a bad choice, apparently.”

Nicola stood back, one hand on hip, regarding her.

“No, I...” Geeta shook her head and sighed. “Got distracted, by erm...something.”

“Something clearly annoying.”

Annoyingly soft and attractive. And, yes, Nicola was still annoying.

But this version of Nicola? Bringing presents. Smiling. A walking, singing, dancing bundle of pheromones?

Geeta held up her hands.

“Let’s...go and eat.”

Nicola helped her carry food and drinks down the sloping garden towards the river. Geeta took the time to let the buzzing of her body subside and allow the breeze through her hair to sober her mind, which had gone full erotic walkabout in there.

So, this finding-women-sexy thing? Had it always been there, waiting for a time to explore?

She’d vaguely wondered what it’d be like to kiss a woman. Didn’t everyone question that? Was that natural human curiosity or her disposition?

She also wondered, what if she’d kissed her friend Bela and not Sumit at that university party. Where would she be now? And what if she’d been single the odd time she’d met someone she felt was sexy rather than simply knowing.

Like the time she’d stepped back into a woman in a small, crowded space, while talking to a post grad. Her shoulders nudged into the soft chest of someone tall behind, and hands gently curled around arms to catch her. Their subtle strength made her quietly inhale, while the figure around her comforted in a charged way she hadn’t felt before.

It was fleeting. Neither said a word. Just, “Sorry,” from Geeta, who stepped forward and automatically continued the conversation with the post grad. But the impression of the woman hummed on her back. It stayed with her, warm and pleasurable, in a way that shouldn’t have lingered so long. It nudged her around the scale more than others, and she'd looked over her shoulder to see who it was, but too late to find her.

In that moment, years ago, she understood the appeal of women. It was one of those signs along the road that got louder until she was here, fully acknowledging how delicious a sensation it was, and wishing Nicola Albright would lean over her again.

Was now a time in her life to look again? To find out what it was like with a woman?

She sat on the sofa at the water’s edge with Nicola, who licked her fingers.

“Well, this is delicious, darling,” Nicola said, with that flirtatious smile and long legs crossed towards her, suggesting salacious pleasure.

Yes, this feeling for a woman was stronger than ever. What the heck should she do about this?

***

Good lord, this food was good.

And this was fun.

Nicola licked her fingers covered in tangy and sweet mango juices.

She sat alongside Geeta in her soft shorts, voluptuous golden-brown legs on show. Her tight-fitting T-shirt glowed white in the sunshine and set off her complexion and curvy figure.

“And this is gorgeous.”

She put down her plate on a small table and raised her glass. Condensation ran over her fingers, and she sipped a piquant blend of apple juice, fragrant mint and ginger.

“Just delicious.”

The food, the sumptuous setting by the Isis River, surrounded by shrubs and trees in full leaf, and the company. Her body and mind thrilled with it all. She slung her arm around the back of the garden sofa, behind Geeta, and closed her eyes to the invigorating warmth of the sunshine, and inhaled the scent of Geeta’s hair in the sun.

Geeta looked stunning.

Nicola smiled. See, she could enjoy this crush. And the flirting that Geeta indulged too? Wonderful. The rush it gave was as good as when she excelled in court, battling on a knife edge. What had she ever worried about.

Nicola didn’t need to fear this. She’d even confidently face that beautiful photo of Geeta she’d taken. Simply a photo of a gorgeous woman.

“By the way,” she said, opening her eyes. “Have you updated your dating profile?”

“No, I haven’t.” Geeta sighed.

“Why?! What are you waiting for?”

“Well.” Geeta crossed her arms. “I’m not sure I'm ready.” Geeta peered at her, a furrow between her eyebrows and her gaze flicking everywhere. “But...”

“But what?” She brimmed too full of good feelings and optimism for procrastination.

“I don’t know.” Geeta picked up her phone from the table and pulled up her profile. “See, still no matches.”

“The photo, darling, is wretched. Update it.” She drew up her shoulders to communicate just how absurdly bad it was.

“But....”

“Pass it over.” Nicola beckoned with her fingers. “Come on.”

Geeta hesitated again. It wasn’t like her normally. Geeta was a confident, decisive woman. Why was she delaying?

“Give it here.” Nicola grabbed the phone.

“No!” Geeta said, laughing. “Stop it.”

And for a moment, their bare legs touched as they tussled, Geeta’s soft thighs in her shorts stroking against hers in her dress, as divine, silky caresses. They rolled together, laughing, until Geeta let go of her phone.

“Fine,” Geeta said, crossing her arms. “Put the damn photo up.”

Nicola beamed, delighted. Not just at Geeta relenting, but at the tussle too. The warmth and exhilaration made her body buzz and celebrate the contact.

“So have you got it on your phone?” Yes, it was ready to upload.

She tapped and waited for the new profile photo to appear of Geeta looking dangerously attractive at the Botanic Gardens.

Really, this was awfully good fun.

“And the rest of this profile,” she scrolled down. “Honestly.” She raised an eyebrow, delighting at teasing Geeta.

“Don’t even think about changing it.” Geeta glared at her and pointed a finger.

Nicola shifted around to face her, legs stroking Geeta’s thigh again. She dropped her voice. “I will do as I’m told,” she said, but with an edge that implied she’d do nothing of the kind.

“As if.” Geeta tutted. She crossed her arms again, unusually defensive. “But...”

“Yes?” Nicola kept scrolling down the profile, enjoying Geeta all snug against her.

“At the bottom...”

“Hmmhmm?”

“In the preference check boxes...”

“Yes?”

“Put women.”

“What was that?”

“Where it says, ‘who are you interested in’. Put women. Put everyone,” Geeta said.

“...”

“Check the box that says I don’t care what gender.”

She paused, finger hovering over the options. Did Geeta just say she was interested in women?

“Have you put it?” Geeta said, turning towards her, soft legs nudging hers. She peeked over the top to see the screen.

Heart pounding in her chest. Pulse thudding in her ears. Hot and tingling all over. What the...

Nicola swallowed.

“Did you say you were interested in women?”

It came out a whisper.

“Well...” Geeta frowned and leant away to stare at the river.

And Nicola’s heart didn’t abate one bit.

“Haven’t you ever wondered?” Geeta smiled, confusion and perhaps reticence flickering in her eyebrows. “What it's like to kiss a woman?”

Nicola’s throat collapsed and she couldn’t answer.

“Would it be so different?”

She didn’t know. She hadn’t allowed herself to think in that much detail. But yes, right now, Nicola did wonder what it’d be like to kiss a woman. So much it consumed her whole body. She couldn’t take her eyes off Geeta’s lips. Their fullness and curving shape. The dark colours of pinks and browns blending in beautiful mauve. The tip of her tongue just now, moistening them with a slow delicious sweep that trailed so suggestive that Nicola started to dip towards her. She wanted to taste her. Tease her tongue inside. Sweep their lips together.

Oh god. What was happening to her?

“Really, is it so different?” Geeta shrugged. “Gender and people are such a wonderful broad range. Never two the same. Why do I have to like one specific thing? I wondered growing up, why I didn’t have ‘a type’ like other people. You know, in magazine quizzes like Just Seventeen , ‘what’s my boyfriend type’...”

She only half heard Geeta above the thudding in her ears and her gasping breath that seemed to fill the air.

“...I wondered if it was fluid, depending on individuals and how you related to them. I had such a broad range of boyfriends, and after all these years, I wonder would I like women too...”

Is this what it was like to die? Heart bursting. Body burning. Everything in meltdown. No semblance of control over anything.

“...And women, all people, can be beautiful and handsome, don't you think. So why not?” Geeta gazed straight at Nicola, and she heard her with crystal clarity.

“So, I'd like to know,” Geeta said, face soft with gentle resolution. “I want to know what it’s like to kiss a woman.”

And now it was exactly what Nicola wanted to know too, because she couldn’t think of anything but kissing Geeta. She seemed full of her. Like the air between them was where she began, and Geeta ended. She leant, inextricably drawn closer by the scent of her hair, warm in the sun’s rays, the allure of her lips, the compulsion to hold her body against hers, naked and wet.

Oh god, what was this?

Geeta’s eyes looked skywards. “I think that was the bell.”

“What?” Nicola gasped.

“The doorbell. Excuse me a sec.”

Geeta rested her hand on Nicola’s leg, and her body turned liquid. Molten, burning, liquid.

The touch that a moment before might have been pleasurable and indulgent, now, with that snippet of knowledge, scorched with unleashed potential.

And her heart nearly burst out of her chest.