"What kind of kitty do you suppose lives under that skirt?" Sascha nudged her husband, Van. Together they stared at the brunette with the great ass who was bussing the table adjoining theirs.

Van let out a low whistle and stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. Saturdays at the coffee shop were busy; it was only five o’clock, and the place was crowded. Every table, barstool, and corner was jammed with locals to see the latest upstart poet, author, or musician. If the talent was boring, the curvy waitress always provided great inspiration for the couple’s sex life.

Van caught Sascha’s eye and gave her a daring wink that she knew meant trouble. It also sent a tingle of heat to her pussy.

"Hey, Maggie." He called to get her attention over the din of the bongo drummer onstage.

The pretty waitress turned, her arms full of cups and crumpled sugar packets. Her breasts pushed against her tight top, exposing the tiniest star tattoo on the swell of one breast. Van took immediate advantage of this unexpected sighting, as Sascha knew he would.

He waved Maggie over. She dumped the load of dishes in a plastic tub, wiped her hands on a white towel hanging from her waistband, and gave them a quizzical smile. As she crossed the room on her strappy sandals, Sascha could barely tear her gaze from the slippery sway of those hips. Another bolt of electricity slithered south and a trickle of wetness pooled in her lace panties. Her heart beat heavily with excitement. Months ago, she had confided her dream to Van - her dream of finding a true partner to add to their lives. Of course, Van was all over the idea. But they agreed the third person had to be perfect. A sex kitten with a mind intellectual enough to satisfy their cravings for conversation. And a sassy mouth never hurt around Van, whose quick wit could keep her on her toes.

As Maggie reached the table, Van pushed his empty coffee mug forward so she could bus it. "Nice tat, is it new?"

Maggie directed a dark brown curl behind her ear and her smile widened. "No, I’ve had it since college. But I really want a new piece. Will your tattoo shop still be open in an hour when I get off work?"

Beneath the table, Sascha slipped off her heel and curled her foot around her husband’s hard calf. This was too good to be true. Their shop was hopping on a Saturday night, but maybe she could convince Van that finding the ideal person to fill the space in their lives was worth the monetary losses by closing early on their busiest day.

He shot Sascha a glance. "Sure, we’re open. Drop in and we’ll hook you up, Maggie."

She braced her hands on the table and leaned in, her gold-flecked eyes bright. "I’d love that."

Before Maggie could move away from their table, Sascha impulsively clasped the waitress’s wrist. When their gazes clashed, Sascha’s sex began to pulse. "Van and I will be waiting."
 

Margot knelt in the spongy earth of the flower bed, feeling blindly for the smooth river stone, which concealed the house key. Moisture seeped through her thin cotton nurse’s scrubs and froze her fingers. She skimmed the fallen leaves. Where the hell was it? Sure, she’d only seen her friend use it once, and during the light of day, but still—the rock wouldn’t have moved.

Her knuckles brushed a hard object and she sighed with relief. Lifting the rock, she felt under it, and located the cold metal. With triumph in her chest, and a forbidden heat climbing the walls of her belly, she tread toward the front door.

She’d never seen the Millers set an alarm upon leaving, or pause inside the door to disarm one, so she thought she was safe using the key without their knowledge. She hoped.

With a thumping heart, she slid the key into the well-oiled lock. The mechanism turned noiselessly, and she pulled the key free as she pressed the door inward. She pocketed the key, vowing to return it to the hiding spot later. After.

The thought of her lover Jane, asleep in her plush king-sized bed, sent her body into a whirlpool of desire. She hadn’t seen her in three days—hadn’t slept with her in a week. Everyone was out with the flu at work, and Margot had been working double shifts. They’d only had time to grab a quick coffee together. Enough time to exchange some yearning glances and little touches. And enough time for Jane to let her know Ethan was away on a business trip.

So Margot planned to surprise her in her own bed.

The house was still and dark, and the familiar scents of lemon furniture polish mixed with Jane’s signature perfume filled her nose. In the foyer, she toed off her rubber-soled shoes and took off through the rooms. As she passed the Miller children’s closed bedroom doors, she listened hard within. Her twins were with their grandmother; sound asleep at this time of night.

And she hoped Jane was too. For a week, she’d been fantasizing about what she was about to do. Waking her with the touch of her bare body, her kisses, her lips on her sensitive skin, slipping down to her moist pussy.

A knot of heat broke apart in her core, trickling downward to capture her sex. It pulsed heavily, needing completion. She hadn’t even had a spare moment to finger herself. But more than anything, she missed Jane’s body. Sinking her fingers into her drenched folds, the feel of her clit on her tongue. Feeling her splinter beneath her.

And she wanted that intimate touch of bodies—lying atop her, snuggling against her breasts as they French kissed.

The water in the adjoining locker room shower stall roared to life just as Jane lathered the creamy body wash between her palms. Her muscles hummed with a sweet mixture of energy and exhaustion after her kickboxing class.

Her husband thought her decision to take up the morning class in addition to her regular morning run crazy. But after the solitude of her run, she craved the social atmosphere the gym offered. Her kids were in school full time, and her charity work only took up so much dead time. Plus, there was the added allure of Margot Holt. But she couldn’t tell her husband that.

The recent divorcee’s twins were in third grade with Jane’s daughter. She and Margot exchanged pleasantries, but when Jane watched Margot’s full, sexy ass in tight workout pants, Jane walked out of kickboxing class hotter than her workout ever made her.

She smoothed the soap over her flesh, circling her breasts slowly, teasing the small nubs by avoiding them. A trickle of fluid slipped from her pussy as she fantasized trapping Margot alone after class. Jane leaned against the shower wall and stifled her moan as she pinched her nipples between thumb and forefinger, stretching them with visions of Margot’s mouth wrapped around them. She had the prettiest mouth Jane had ever seen on a woman, wide, pink, and luscious. How would it feel to kiss her?

Using the flat of her hands, she chaffed her hard nipples. A permanent throb took up residence low in her belly; an ache that couldn’t be relieved by her husband’s long cock. In the past year, Jane had begun to dream about a woman, of soft breasts and full thighs, of the sweet taste of a woman she hadn’t experienced since her college days.

And voluptuous Margot tormented her at every turn—at school events in her sexy fitted jeans and at the grocery store with her long, dark hair piled on top of her head and face stunning despite the lack of makeup. Now they shared a kickboxing class. If only Jane could bridge the gulf between idle chit-chat and asking her to sit on her face.

She dipped two fingers into her slit, finding it soaking. She teased the bare outer lips, envisioning Margot’s slender fingers with the short oval nails.

The water in the adjoining shower shut off. Damn. Without the roar of water, her moans wouldn’t go unheard. And she was an important figure in the community. She couldn’t finger-fuck herself in the locker room shower.

With a sigh, Jane rinsed off; she’d have plenty of time this morning to use her new vibrator before her husband’s regular lunchtime phone call.

A faint, melodious humming reached her ears, causing a jolt to ripple through her. Was that Margot’s voice?

She peeked around the plastic shower curtain and saw the ripe globes of Margot’s naked backside.

Jane jumped from the shower, grabbed her towel, and hummed the second bar of the song in tune with her. Margot spun, wet hair snapping around her nude form like dark whips. Her tits jiggled deliciously.

"Hi," Margot said, a dark blush climbing her throat and cheeks.

Jane’s pussy throbbed at the sight. She wanted to take her in her arms and kiss that soft skin, to lick the water droplets from her.

"I’ve seen you around a lot lately." Jane ignored the towel in her hands. The cool air against her wet skin felt good.

As Margot wrapped herself in the white towel, she twisted to the side, giving Jane only a glimpse at her golden brown outer thigh. But she was dying to see the V between those shapely legs. In Margot’s workout pants, the bulge of her pussy lips was visible when she bent over. What color was it, was it bare, and how did it taste?

"I’ve been trying to keep busy since the divorce," Margot faced her once again. The towel cinched the skin above her breasts, which pushed against the terry cloth, round and luscious. The fabric was too thick for Jane to see if the nipples were hard, but she thought so. The air in the locker room was cool.

Jane’s gaze locked onto the long column of Margot’s throat, still dewy with moisture. The thought of nuzzling its length and kissing that spot behind her ear propelled her feet closer. What was she doing? She wouldn’t flick her bean in the shower, but she’d openly pursue a woman in broad view?

Margot’s dark brown eyes flared at the woman approaching her in the flesh.

Jane wanted to see Margot’s eyes slip shut as she kissed her. She wanted to see them dilate as Jane’s finger gathered the moisture between her thick pussy lips. She wanted to see her eyes pinch shut as she made her come.

She closed in. Margot stepped back, coming up against a row of metal lockers. She bit her lower lip and a shot of need raced through Jane, making her pussy walls contract. She felt the wetness on her inner thighs and knew if Margot dropped her gaze, she’d see it.

"Look, Margot," she said, searching her beautiful face. "I want to get to know you better."

"Sure." Her voice wavered. "How about coffee?"

"We can start with coffee, if you’d like," Jane said, heart thumping at what she was about to say. "But I was thinking more along the lines of this." With that, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Margot’s soft, giving mouth. Margot trembled at the caress.

The phone beeped, and Wynne Marie leaped to her feet. She tilted on her heels, and her hip struck the corner of her desk hard. She issued a squeak and then fumbled for her phone, heart thumping, instant tears blurring her eyes, and not from the pain of her injury. "What do I do if overbooked?" the text read. An image of AJ rose in her mind, wavy brown hair falling into one smoldering brown eye, poring over the appointment book and wondering how the hell he was going to have enough hands. She laughed into the silence of her office, glad she was between appointments. She’d dealt with a criminal receiving mandatory counseling and a victim of domestic violence this morning. Suddenly, none of it seemed as important helping AJ with his dilemma. Her thumbs flew over the keypad. "Call Erin for backup. Give her overtime pay." His reply was swift. "Thanx!" A shiver ran through her at the sight of those five little letters. In a moment, she could have him on the phone, deep baritone voice filtering into her brain. God, she missed that liquid voice. From the moment she’d heard his dulcet tones drifting through the wall separating her massage room from his, she’d been hooked. Why hadn’t he fallen for her the same way? With a grin, she texted, "Ur welcome." "How r u?" The words flashed across the screen, making her heart sing. Her hair swung forward to kiss her hot cheek, hiding her expression from anyone who walked in. She knew she looked like she was up to no good. If Jake walked in at this moment, how would she react? She had to tell him tonight. He’d understand. It wasn’t as if she was sexting.

Margot sat at her kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee on the distressed wooden top at her elbow, and her head in her hands.
 
She'd just bundled her twin girls into their grandmother's car, off for a day at the zoo while she prepared for her day. Another eight-hour shift at the hospital, then dinner with Danny. The handsome vet hadn't wasted any time asking her out again after their long, talkative date last night. And she was looking forward to it.
 
But she missed Jane and Ethan to the extreme. This morning, she'd awakened to two text messages from Jane asking her to call as soon as she got up. But it was 10:00 a.m., and she still hadn't called.
 
You're avoiding her.
 
Her heart rolled with uneasiness. She wasn't exactly avoiding her. She didn't know how to explain her reason for canceling their plans for last night.
 
And how to explain the strange new feelings in her heart for Danny.
 
After work yesterday, she'd run home, grabbed a hasty shower, and threw on a light cotton sundress. Jane had helped her choose it during their last shopping trip together. She'd told Margot how much she loved the coral color against her bronzed skin, which was so different from Jane's paler tone.
 
And then Jane had pressed her against the wall of the dressing room and kissed the hell out of her.
 
When Margot had approached the park bench last night, he'd looked up with a stunned expression. Quickly, he'd gained his feet, favoring his injured leg and bearing his weight on his other foot.
 
He'd captured her hands as a grin stretched across his face. His smile could have parted the clouds after a month of rain.
 
"I can't believe you came."
 
She'd given a small laugh and went on tiptoe to brush his cheek with her lips. An action that had startled him and set her blushing. "Why wouldn't I come?"
 
He'd shrugged, and keeping her hand in his, seated her beside him on the metal bench. The evening air had been balmy compared to the icy conditions of the hospital.