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OK, so Geeta was a little bit obsessed with Nicola and sex now. Difficult not to be when their encounters resonated so deeply. Kissing her like she wanted to be kissed. Gently licking the line of her lips, knowing how it would feel, and luxuriating in mirrored empathy. Sweeping over her bud, to a shiver of pleasure from both. Nicola moaning as her body caved, and the sound sending Geeta higher and higher in an endless loop of sensual erotic feedback. Oh, it was powerful stuff.

Yes, she knew from experience sex hit with big hormones, but that was back then with men. And this was a long time later, and she hadn’t expected it. But honestly, it hit harder. This was addictive and Nicola indulgent too.

“I bought toys,” Nicola messaged. “Want to play?”

Yes, she did, and Nicola called on the dot again.

Summer blazed in a heatwave with blue skies, and they spent every evening naked in bed, door thrown open to the world, talking for hours afterwards, Nicola leaving past midnight.

Then Friday night, Geeta snuggled up on Nicola’s shoulder, cheek on one breast, hand on the other. She idly caressed Nicola’s softness in her palm and her head swirled, relaxed and happy. Nicola shifted beneath her, preparing to go, and Geeta grumbled at having to move from this heavenly bed.

“Why don't you stay,” she whispered.

She was too sleepy to care what it meant. And the gentle smile Nicola returned said she’d only been waiting for Geeta to ask.

In the middle of the night, she woke to Nicola spooned behind her, and she hot flushed and broke into a sweat.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and gently rolled away.

But another snooze and shuffle later, the air cooling in the meantime, she woke spooning Nicola. Breasts to back, lower bodies intimate, arm wrapped around Nicola’s waist. She twitched, not knowing if she should keep it there, so cosy and familiar. Was that assuming too much of Nicola, and a step too far for her? She slowly withdrew her hand, but Nicola complained in her sleep with an oddly sweet moan and drew Geeta’s arm beneath her breasts.

With a soporific wave of happy acceptance, Geeta nuzzled into her back and drifted, content.

It was quiet when she woke properly. The sky had turned into the bright quality of early morning summer. The rest of the bed lay empty but clung to remnant body heat when she explored with her fingers.

She threw on a T-shirt and shorts and padded downstairs. She found Nicola standing in the gap between the sliding windows, gazing into the garden, legs bare and shirt on.

“Hi,” she said gently.

Nicola turned, and her breath caught. Open shirt, the rise of her breasts visible, with only knickers for underwear, Geeta stopped in her tracks and stared.

Nicola tilted her head. “Problem?” she purred.

“You're a very sexy woman,” Geeta groaned. “And you know it.” She pointed with accusation.

Nicola’s smile curled, satisfied and irresistible.

Geeta shook her head. “I’m not surprised you get what you want.”

“It doesn't get you everything.”

A complexity flickered in her features, the distinctive eyebrows crinkling a moment. Then her chin lifted, the inner assurance flooding back, always with Nicola, and pushed away the clouds.

“Is that what a phenomenal singing voice, Oxford and confidence are for? Getting the rest of it?”

“Still doesn’t win everything.”

Nicola approached, the stride slower, but sensational with bare legs.

“Besides,” Nicola said, “I've always thought you the most beautiful woman.”

Geeta opened her mouth to dismiss the banter by habit but stopped herself. The feeling rose in her chest, more and more frequently, that Nicola meant it.

Then the lure of Nicola nearby blanked further words. Her neck swayed with the urge to kiss Nicola’s cleavage and work her tender way over her breasts. She swept her hands around Nicola's waist and couldn’t help the “mmm” of pleasure as Nicola drew her close.

The hum of pleasure wasn’t just physical. This was nice, not coming down to an empty house. She loved having people around, and it was why she enjoyed working on Bentley reception. But most of all this, having another person for intimate company, who thrived on people too.

A thrill shot through her, of excitement mixed with fear, at things that whispered of potential.

“Do you have to go? Can you stay for breakfast?” She almost stuttered, fearing what she asked, as well as what Nicola might say.

The magnificent face, with defined cheekbones and fantastic jawline, and lines that had lived, laughed, thought and fought and won, was so often knowing. But a gentle smile appeared again. The same as when she’d asked her to stay the night. And like Geeta kept seeing lately.

“I'd love to stay. Next week is busy, so I cleared the weekend for a break.”

“Good. I wondered if you were up early to go somewhere?”

“No,” Nicola said, swaying her in relaxed comfort. “Just wide awake. Possibly from missing my progesterone because I was here last night. It usually makes me more sleepy.”

“Oh,” Geeta said.

She stopped. She almost suggested Nicola keep some here. But that seemed a step too far.

“Maybe I’ll carry some with me,” Nicola said.

There, always negotiating that kind of awkwardness, Nicola more used to post-divorce relationships.

“Maybe,” Geeta nodded in agreement. “In fact, yes, please do.”

Because cuddling up to Nicola was unexpectedly lovely. Especially that moment in the night when Nicola had snuggled close, with a kiss to her shoulder. Not a seduction. No intent. A slow, gentle gesture, full of affection, that made her ache in a different way. She’d not moved, and pretended sleep, listening to Nicola drift into deeper breaths. And she’d wondered at the rightness of it, not wanting Nicola to leave.

“Let me get breakfast ready,” Geeta said.

And she turned deliberately, leaving the subject balancing there.

She whizzed up a mango lassi. This heat called for a refreshing start. And she wandered down the slope of the garden, to find Nicola barefoot and divine in shirt and knickers.

The luscious shrubs and trees kept the space private from neighbours, although open to the river at the end. They sat on the sofa beside the river, with only birds and the swirling sound of water for company, the rest of the village still in bed, and with no movement from canal boats further upstream.

She passed over a glass and Nicola cradled it.

“You know, I think you have the perfect home,” Nicola said.

Geeta smiled and snuggled beside her.

“I do love it.”

Nicola turned. She must have caught the melancholy.

“I might have to sell up,” Geeta added. “It depends on me getting a permanent job that covers the bills.”

Nicola gave a single nod and focused, as if about to suggest solutions. She noticed this about Nicola, and it rang true over the years. That she’d immediately fix an issue, never one to let a problem go.

This time, though, Nicola stretched an arm around the back of the bench. Comfort. And Geeta smiled.

“Of course...” Nicola leant towards her. “I'll look out for positions for you.”

There it was.

“Thank you.” Geeta grinned.

Nicola took a sip.

“Oh, my goodness, darling. Yum !” Nicola said, eyes wide and appreciative.

That was another thing she found sexy about Nicola, that zest she had for everything. Never a dull moment with her. Whether it was work, sex or food, the woman was engaged, with her appetites broad and enthusiastic. Easy to cook for and willing to cook together, despite it not being her particular skill. And chatting. They talked for hours. Nicola always took an interest in her and what she read, flicking through the paperbacks on her bedside table and reading for a while. And Geeta hungered for time with her, because this felt like living again.

“What’s in this one?” Nicola said, taking keen sips. “Is it a lassi?”

“A breakfast smoothie version. Banana, frozen mango, yogurt, coconut milk, pinch of cumin seeds. Sometimes I add oats. Tiny bit of honey if the fruit isn’t ripe enough.”

“Mmm, perfect,” Nicola drank eagerly. She crossed her legs towards her, snuggling close. And that loosely buttoned shirt tantalised.

“So, do you fancy doing something together today?” Nicola asked.

Geeta’s eyes drifted into soft depths, and she had to pull up her gaze. “Do you mean something other than sex?”

Nicola curled her lips. “As well as sex?”

And the way she looked at her... Geeta could leap on her now, straddle her on the garden sofa, tug back her hair and kiss her to oblivion and dive into that open shirt.

“Come on.” Nicola took her hand. “It’s the weekend. Let’s go do something fun.”

And her sparkling eyes promised all kinds.

***

This was the life.

With eager strides, Nicola free-wheeled the bike she’d bought at the same time as the cottage, down the narrow lane towards the river, relishing cycling again like her student days. Early morning still, and air breezed fresh and full of birdsong.

Geeta followed on hers, across the locks and past the lockhouse, then onto the towpath, sunny already with waves of cow parsley filling the gap between the water and meadows in clouds of white flowers. Nicola plunged her weight down on the pedals and beamed a huge smile. A weekend with blue skies and sunshine and Geeta. Could life be any more perfect.

She peeked over her shoulder to check she hadn’t cycled too far in front.

“You might out-stride me, Albright KC.” Geeta grinned pulling, alongside. “But I can beat you on a bike!”

Then Geeta powered ahead in a cloud of dust.

Always standing up to her. Always ready with a challenge. Perfect.

She had no intention of catching up though, because she could admire Geeta’s bum from here, her hourglass figure somehow more accentuated on a bike. Those curves did wonderful things to her, and Nicola beamed out of the sheer exhilaration of it all.

Geeta screeched to a halt in front, skidding on the pebbles. She looked over her shoulder, eyes flashing and eyebrows in a line of accusation.

“Are you letching, Albright KC?!”

“Yes, darling.” Nicola grinned as she pulled alongside. “Just like you did with my breasts earlier.”

And Geeta laughed, before powering off again.

She’d never get enough of this. Geeta pulling her up. Teasing her. Looking at her like that. All simmering hot curves and swirls of shining black hair with threads of iron-grey and fiery copper. Turning her head to glare disapproval, or flash that huge, gorgeous smile if Nicola made her laugh. The keen look in her eyes when Nicola suggested something new in bed. The relaxed generosity and thoughtfulness. Then the whip smart comebacks and observations that kept Nicola on her toes. The easy being together. Talking. Making food. Topics of interest from all directions. Everything, everything, everything about her.

They cut across the meadows by a boathouse, into narrow streets of Victorian houses, and cycled towards Hinksey Park.

“Won’t the pool be closed this early?” Geeta called.

“Not the pool,” Nicola shouted with glee. She couldn’t wait for Geeta's reaction to this. “The lake!”

Another screech of tyres. Another phenomenal, smouldering look of disapproval.

“The lake?!”

“Well, you said you needed to cool down in this heat.” Nicola grinned.

***

She could still throttle Nicola sometimes.

Bloody hell, the water was cold.

Geeta dipped in her toe again. They stood on a platform that floated a little way into the blue lake behind the brick terraces of South Oxford.

“It’s quiet this morning,” Nicola said, standing confident in her swimsuit, one hand on hip, the other shading her eyes, while she looked around the tree-lined lake.

“That might be because it’s a bit frigging cold this time of day.”

Nicola cast back an amused glance and sat down on the platform to dangle in her legs.

“And?” Geeta said.

“Actually it is chilly.” Nicola laughed.

Then, without another word, she plunged beneath the water, bobbing up a few metres away to wipe her long wet hair away from her face.

Well, that was very Nicola. Not doing things by halves.

“Come in!” Nicola shouted.

Still going to throttle her. As soon as she very slowly submerged in this icy water.

“Throw yourself in!” Nicola shouted. “It’s much better!”

“No.” Geeta pointed. “Not everyone’s approach is the same.” She inched in further. “And don’t you dare splash me.” Another stab in the air with her finger.

Nicola elegantly launched towards her, in long strokes of the crawl carving through the water with ease and a gentle lapping sound. Her tall body covered the distance in a second and she stood, careful not to splash, and offered a hand.

Geeta took it with another glare, to another smile from Nicola, and lowered up to her thighs, then, holy effing hell it was cold there, over her waist to her shoulders.

“There,” Nicola said. “See.”

She shivered and reached out for Nicola. Her arms slipped over the tall woman’s wet shoulders and her legs lifted buoyant to wrap around her body. She stayed there, getting used to the cold, and enjoying the sense of surrounding Nicola, the two of them bound and bobbing in the gentle ebb of the lake.

She gazed at the water level, the sun glinting off the surface, and listened to the sound of Oxford waking around them. Funny. She hadn’t been here. That was the thing about Oxford. You could walk its streets, and parks, and colleges a lifetime and never get bored, always something intriguing around every corner.

She’d felt trapped for a while and wondered if she needed to move. But this morning, she wanted to stay more than ever, starting to see it anew. Starting to live again.

“Actually, this is wonderful.”

She gazed at Nicola, who looked even more striking with wet hair, inky eyelashes and sparkling blues. The lines of her face said this was a woman who was complex and real. Who was fun and playful, with an erotic confidence in bed. Adventurous in multiple ways, but supportive too. Someone who said let’s play, but was there with a hand when needed. Life was interesting and vividly present with her.

Geeta clung to her soft, toned shoulders, with rivulets of water streaming from her fingers to Nicola’s chest. She wanted to say how much she enjoyed this. How large her heart grew when Nicola looked at her that way, those blues shining with deep desire and regard.

And everything felt so huge suddenly, in the expanse of blue, both chilling and heated, that she thought she might cry. She couldn’t say anything, so she kissed her, and everything went into that kiss.