“What is this? It’s surprisingly tasty.” Martha held up what her brain believed must be a piece of tofu, but her taste buds said otherwise.

“Szechuan tofu. My signature dish.” Amber sported a wide smile.

“It’s spicy but not too much.” Martha glared at the morsel of food on her fork. “With this strange numbing effect on the lips. The spice totally takes your mind off the fact you’re eating tofu. Well played.”

“I’m just glad you like it better than the food at that vegan restaurant I took you to.”

“I can barely remember it.” The food had definitely not been the most memorable part of that night.

“There will come a time when you’ll truly enjoy eating there.” Amber refilled both their wine glasses with a grin.

“Pouring excellent wine helps with everything, I guess.” Martha looked into Amber’s eyes. She was ready to amp up the flirting.

Amber kept her green gaze firmly locked on Martha’s. God, those freckles on her nose. And the myriad of them covering the skin of her arms. Martha wanted to trace every last one of them with her lips.

This was their fourth date, and although Martha believed dating wasn’t a numbers game at all, her brain was latching on to the number now. Was waiting until the fourth date taking it slow enough for Amber? She wanted to find out right about now.

“You know what?” Martha leaned back. “I don’t feel much like talking anymore.” She pushed her chair back and walked over to Amber, like she’d done last weekend at her place.

Martha pulled Amber’s chair back and straddled her lap, as though performing the same action would allow them to just pick up where they had left off. “What about you? Do you want to talk some more?”

“God no.” Amber threw her head back.

Martha leaned over and found Amber’s ear with her lips. She planted a gentle kiss on her earlobe, then bit down—not too hard, but not too gently either.

Martha gazed down into Amber’s eyes. Having taught thousands of students, surely she must have come across that particular shade of green before, but if she had, she couldn’t remember. Everything was all new with Amber. Then the knowledge that Amber had been worth waiting for seemed to hit her straight over the head. Martha ran her fingertips over the length of Amber’s arms. Over the freckles on her underarms and then the delightful, subtle bulge of her triceps.

She unbuttoned the top button of Amber’s sleeveless blouse—she sure knew how to accentuate assets such as yoga arms—and only then did she bend down to kiss her. Amber’s lips were another delicious part of her. She was glad the numbness of the Szechuan peppercorns had subsided, and she could enjoy every single second of their lips meeting. Martha tasted wine and pepper and spices and, well, just Amber. How could a simple kiss be so intoxicating already?

Martha pulled back, just to get herself in check. She wasn’t supposed to lose herself so quickly. But the look of Amber, the readiness on her face, the slight redness on her lips after the kiss, caused a weakness in Martha’s stomach, and she bent down again, losing her hands in Amber’s lush hair, which she wore loose that night, and kissed her again and again.

“I want you,” she whispered in Amber’s ear, not biting this time. “God, I do.”

In response, Amber pulled her close and they lost themselves in another kiss.

“Take me to your bedroom,” Martha urged when they broke from their kiss. She leaped off Amber and dragged her off the chair by the hand. There weren’t that many closed doors in Amber’s apartment, so she headed in the direction she guessed the bedroom was.

“Over here.” Amber’s words came out winded, as though she’d just taught a class—though Martha had actually no idea what Amber sounded like before, during or after teaching. She vowed there and then to take one of her classes as soon as possible. Just to study her more, get to know her better, and to see how she interacted with her students. She bet Amber was all gentleness, a well of endless understanding and words of encouragement spoken softly. Martha had been to India long ago with her ex-husband and they’d visited an ashram and she could so easily picture Amber sitting there, all serene, understanding radiating off her face, out of every pore of her body.

Martha didn’t have time to fully take in Amber’s bedroom. Moreover, it was dark and Amber didn’t switch on the light.

“Just a second,” Amber said. “I’ll light some candles.” Before she pulled her hand away from Martha’s, she planted a kiss on her palm. Amber seemed to know her way around in the dark and found a long matchstick somewhere. Its flame cast a feeble yellow light on Amber’s face, making her look angelic. She lit a tea light on the night stand, then covered it with what looked like something made of clay with holes in it, letting the light of the candle flicker through to create moody bright spots on the ceiling. Amber had the same kind of contraption on the other side of the bed and she repeated the process.

“Come here,” Martha said. The room was bathed in a soft, glimmering light. Shadows played on the walls. Martha pulled Amber toward her and toppled them both onto the bed. Oh, the sheer joy of feeling another woman’s weight melting into her body. While Martha pulled Amber’s face toward her own for another round of kissing, she rolled them to the side, until she could, not as effortlessly as she would have hoped, slip on top of Amber.

She looked down at Amber, as the candlelight shimmied across her face, lighting up a freckle here and there, and it felt like they were in some magic love castle.

Martha pushed herself up and pulled her blouse over her head, throwing it somewhere into the darkness of the room. She then focused her attention on Amber and, slowly, undid the buttons of her blouse. Though Martha should have known—of course, she should have—she wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Amber’s belly was coated with a layer of rock hard muscle. Every time she breathed, the outline of her abs became more visible, then retreated. Martha had just found another reason to do yoga, though she had never before associated yoga with an ultra-toned body like the one on display in front of her. Amber taught a couple of classes almost every day, barely drank alcohol, and only ate plant-based food. She would have abs for days. For a second, Martha was glad she’d taken off her own blouse first, fearing that after seeing this level of fitness, she would have been too self-aware to still do so.

Martha ran a finger over Amber’s abdominal muscles. The hotness level of Amber Gilroy seemed to be going up by the minute. Amber had the typical pale skin of ginger-haired people. The sight of it was enough for Martha to feel her pulse pick up speed and throb in places she was becoming too painfully aware of. She remembered the reason she had brought Amber into her bedroom in the first place. She had already stated her intentions. It was time for action.

Martha leaned over, pressing her own almost-naked torso against Amber—and oh how amazing it felt—and found Amber’s ear again. “Undress me,” she said, realizing how lucky she was to be in bed with someone like Amber. And how it could just as well never have happened. Someone could have a heart of gold and abs of steel and turn out to be a disappointment. It still wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities, but Martha couldn’t let herself worry about that further. That was not what this moment was for. Oh no. It was for taking pleasure from Amber Gilroy—to find out whether her tongue was as silvery as her heart was golden. Martha pushed herself off the bed and Amber followed her. They stood face to face for an instant. Perhaps Amber was waiting for further instructions but Martha had no intentions of giving her more. So much could be told from how a person undressed you. Which item of clothing they removed first, at which speed and how much resolve they had in their eyes.

Amber, as it soon turned out, was the ultra-patient kind. Of course she was. Martha saw the invented image again of Amber meditating in a hot room full of other sweaty people in a trance. She might actually be out of her depth here. Clearly, Amber hadn’t only trained for years for those abs of steel, she had also acquired buckets of resolve from it.

Amber stroked Martha’s arms with an almost unbearable lightness of touch, her fingers barely grazing Martha’s skin. They floated over her lower belly for what felt like long minutes before Amber flipped open the button of Martha’s trousers. To pull them down, she crouched down with such easy flexibility, Martha wondered whether she was showing off on purpose. But when their eyes were level again, the notion of Amber trying to show off left Martha’s mind. Amber wasn’t that kind of person.

Then Martha stood in her underwear, in front of this goddess of a woman. She really did look like an angel sent from heaven. Amber’s hair haloed around her head. The sides of her blouse fell open revealing a tantalizing amount of taut skin. Out of the cups of her bra rose a swell of breast so round, strong and delicious, Martha had to stop herself—for now—or she’d be all over them in seconds.

Next, Amber’s hands ran up Martha’s sides, upward and back to the fastening of her bra—or so Martha thought. Instead of unclasping, Amber’s hands moved to her front and she ran one of her deliciously long fingers just above the cups of Martha’s bra. God, those fingers. Martha wanted to just snatch Amber’s hands and push two of her fingers into her mouth, lick them until they were so wet they only had one place to go. Even more so than the surprise of her ultra-fit body, Martha was drawn to Amber’s hands. Her fingers were strong—from performing a million downward-facing dogs, or whatever they were called—but above all, they were long. Martha was not short by any stretch, but Amber’s length aroused her. The way the luscious mane of hair towered over her, the pleasure the size of her fingers promised, though, rationally, none of that made any difference.

Martha wanted to say something to make Amber undress her faster, but Amber’s fingers roaming across her skin had taken her voice away. As though Amber had absorbed all of Martha’s resolve, hidden it away behind that steel of hers. The way Amber was now tracing invisible lines on the skin above her panties was making her melt a mile a minute.

Amber gave her a hint of a smile. Just enough to make that freckle on her cheek dance up a little. Of all the ways Martha had expected this night to go, she had never thought she’d be eating out of the palm of Amber’s hand in a matter of minutes. As though the lighting of the candles had galvanized Amber in some way. Maybe she had come back from India half shaman, or she’d always been like this. Filled with secret tricks, invisible to the naked eye—at least for less enlightened mortals like Martha. Or maybe it had been some sort of ritual, and the smoke of the candles carried some kind of odorless vapor that drove women wild. Or, perhaps, Martha had just longed for Amber’s touch so much.

Finally, Amber’s fingers hooked around the waistband of her panties and started tugging downward. Martha felt her breath on her thighs as Amber crouched down again. It was different this time. She was fully naked down there and Amber’s crouch left her eyes at the same height as Martha’s sex. Martha stepped out of her panties and, instinctively, spread her legs a little wider. Amber remained on her haunches, her hands now digging into the back of Martha’s thighs. Was she going to... No, she wouldn’t dare. But, really, why wouldn’t she?

Lips pressed against Martha’s inner thigh. Ever so slightly, but enough to coax a low groan from the back of her throat. She was probably soaking wet already, her smell giving everything away. And really, why would she hide this desire? What was the point? She was in this room with Amber and they both knew what was going to happen. Martha let it all go, unhooked her own bra, and, backward, walked to the bed and crashed down onto it. From under her lashes, she watched Amber crawl toward her on hands and knees. It was one of the most intoxicating sights she’d ever seen.

Martha spread her legs again, drawing up her heels onto the bed. This foreplay had lasted months. Amber had made her wait. And Martha had waited, at everyone’s insistence. Then, after their first date, it had stopped feeling like waiting, because patience had taken another shape. It had morphed into anticipation. Into a sure path to this. Even though Martha had no way of knowing if Amber felt as sure as she did. It had only been a gut feeling, an instinct, that divine connection between them from the get-go that informed Martha, despite not having much empirical evidence, that they both wanted the same thing. They wanted to give this a go. Amber wanted to give Martha a chance she hadn’t given many other women.

Therefore, Martha spread her legs even wider, and when Amber’s lips touched down on her inner thigh again, it felt like they had always belonged there.

Amber kissed a moist path inward to where Martha’s sex was throbbing with a need so great, she believed it would be unquenchable in the course of one night. Amber’s hair fell onto her skin, not quite tickling, just adding to the overall sensation of having Amber all over her—of being in the delicious grips of Amber’s complete devotion.

Then Amber’s lips kissed her clit, and a shiver crept up Martha’s spine. Instantly, it felt like more than she could bear. Like more than she had ever been given. Because this was Amber kissing her there. Beautiful Amber Gilroy with the green eyes and the mass of red hair and a kindness in her voice that was always there, even when she tried to hide it. Martha could see that now.

Amber pulled Martha’s pussy lips apart and ran her tongue over Martha’s exposed clit, causing a moan to escape Martha’s throat. Amber’s tongue kept circling vigorously, making Martha wonder whether she’d finally lost her composure. Whether now that Amber had had a taste of her, she couldn’t control herself.

Martha brought her hands to the back of Amber’s head, hoping it would encourage her, because lightning bolt after lightning bolt was electrifying her flesh now, increasing that shiver up her spine until she was shuddering all over, trembling with desire. It had only been mere minutes and Martha was ready to surrender to Amber’s tongue.

Then Amber pulled back. Martha expected her to return to business immediately. That Amber just needed to take a moment to catch her breath, or to imprint the significance of what was happening onto her psyche, but Amber’s tongue didn’t return to its previous activity.

Instead, Amber crawled up to her, looked into her eyes, shot her a smile Martha didn’t know what to do with, and maneuvered herself in one swift motion so she straddled Martha with her backside inching closer to Martha’s face.