by Donna Jay
“Never!” Yvonne said with conviction.
Julie couldn’t argue with her. Other than inheriting her mother’s genes—green eyes, auburn hair, full lips and hips—Yvonne was nothing like her mother.
A sign welcoming them to Marton loomed up ahead. Julie pulled out her phone.
“Should I text to say we’re here?”
Yvonne glanced at the GPS. “We’re five minutes away from the café.”
“Not helpful.” Julie tapped her foot as nerves set in.
“She said she’d be there. We have no reason to believe she won’t, so let’s trust she will.”
“Fine.” She dropped her phone in her shirt pocket. “Why aren’t you nervous?”
“Because I’m looking for a bloody park.” The snap of her voice was the first sign she wasn’t as cool and calm as Julie thought.
“Did you take your happy pills today?” Julie asked, earning the smile she was going for.
“There.” She pointed when she saw the glow of reverse lights.
“Good spotting.” Yvonne pulled to a stop, flicked on the left indicator, and waited for the car to back out of the angled park.
Once she parked, Julie climbed out, holding the door so it didn’t bang against the car on the other side.
At ten o’clock on a Sunday morning, she hadn’t expected to see so many people milling around the small town. Perhaps they should’ve arranged to meet somewhere less crowded, but it was too late now.
“Ready?” She offered a hand to Yvonne.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“You’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure Yvonne or herself.
The café was surprisingly devoid of customers. Only two tables were occupied, one with a couple and a young baby, and another with a woman smiling their way. Pamela.
“Is that her?” Yvonne spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “I hope it is; she’s got a welcoming smile.”
“It must be.”
She wasn’t lying when she said her hair was fire-engine red. The colour was so vivid, it had to have come out of a bottle.
When she stood—wow she was tall; taller than her picture indicated—her entire body came to life. It was hard to explain. Charisma radiated off her in thick waves. But beneath that smile, Julie detected a hint of something else. It was almost as if she was sizing them up, which she probably was.
When they reached the table, she stuck out a hand. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Julie returned the handshake. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“As you know, I’m Pamela. But you can call me Pam.”
Pamela’s sultry smile made Julie’s stomach do flip-flops.
“Let me guess.” She pointed to Julie. “You’re Veronica.” Her finger moved to the right. “And you’re Juliet.”
Yvonne giggled like a schoolgirl, hand over her mouth. “Other way around.” She motioned between herself and Julie.
“This is my Romeo, or should I say Juliet. And I’m Veronica.”
“Got it.” Pamela gestured for them to sit. “What are you ladies drinking? It’s on me.”
“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” Yvonne fished around in her handbag.
“Please, I insist.” Pamela put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s only fair, considering you’ve already had to pay to be here today.”
“How so?” Yvonne hung her handbag on the back of a chair.
“Petrol’s not cheap,” Pamela said.
No kidding, at $2.06 a litre it’d become increasingly expensive to travel far. One of the perks of Julie’s job was having a company car. She could’ve brought it today, risked not being seen taking it out of town. But unlike some of her work colleagues, she wasn’t about to abuse the privilege and potentially lose her job by doing so.
“So, what will it be?” Pamela asked again.
After giving her their orders, they watched her walk toward the counter. Hips swaying, boots clacking on the tiled floor.
Julie pulled up a chair and sat beside Yvonne. “What do you think?”
“I like her. She’s assertive, but not overbearing.”
“And that appeals to you now?”
“I think it’s what we need.”
She wasn’t about to get an argument out of Julie. They definitely didn’t need someone shy. They would all sit there tongue-tied like nervous virgins.
“Green tea for you.” Pamela set a cup in front of Yvonne. “Iced coffee for you.” She placed a tall glass dripping with condensation in front of Julie. “And hot chocolate for me.”
A groan escaped Yvonne, and Julie bit back a smile.
“I love chocolate. Chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake, chocolate chip biscuits.”
“Chocolate sauce?” Pamela licked her spoon, making it look far sexier than any lick of a spoon should.
“Oh, yes. Drizzled over vanilla ice cream.” Yvonne nodded, her innocent smile reminding Julie just how naïve she could be.
“And bodies.” Pamela held Yvonne’s gaze, and her cheeks turned crimson.
Giving her a second to compose herself, Julie glanced around the nearly empty café. “I expected the place to be packed. We were lucky to get a park.”
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you.” Pamela tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. “The Sunday market brings people out in droves. Fresh produce, organic meat, free-range eggs.”
“Sounds interesting.” Yvonne sipped her tea, seeming to have got herself under control.
“Do you like to cook?” Julie asked.
A pang of sadness flashed across Pamela’s face. There one second, gone the next. “I used to, but it’s not much fun cooking for one.”
Was she nursing a broken heart? Alarm shot through Julie. She didn’t want to deal with someone emotionally unavailable. Not that she wanted to be emotionally involved. Shit, why was this so hard?
“Don’t overthink it,” Pamela said as if she could read Julie’s mind.
“How long have you been on your own?” Yvonne asked.
“Long enough,” Pamela stated. “Anything else you’d like to know.” She spread her arms wide. “Lay it on the table.”
Fuck it, if she wanted them to cut to the chase, Julie could do that. “Ever played with a couple?”
“I’ve played as part of a couple but never as the third.” The challenge in her eyes made Julie’s breath hitch. “Have you?”
“What? Been with a couple? No.” Julie shook her head feeling like it was full of cotton wool.
“She’s been a third though.”
Stunned, Julie whipped her head around. “I can’t believe you just said that.” She scowled at Yvonne.
“I like you.” Pamela pointed a finger at Yvonne.
“Oh, but you don’t like me?” She sounded pathetic and knew it. Perhaps Daphne’s scathing comments had left a dent after all.
“Quite the contrary. I like your spunk. It’ll make bringing you to your knees more fun.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to bring me to my knees?” As much as the idea of submitting turned Julie on, she wasn’t going to bow down to someone she’d known all of five minutes.
“Well, your profile states you ladies are hoping to find a dominant woman, and although you might look like the more dominant partner, Juliet, I’m guessing that’s not the case.”
“Good guess,” Julie said.
“It’s not a guess, it’s reading body language. Watching how people interact.” She turned to Yvonne. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re the strong quiet type. Do you like to boss her around? What’s your kink? Bondage? Butt plugs? Orgasm denial?”
Holy shit! Feeling like they were on loudspeaker, Julie glanced around the café. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention.
“Whoa.” Yvonne held up a hand. “Let’s back up a bit.”
“Sure.” That alluring smile she’d flashed them when they first met slid onto Pamela’s face.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope
. No kids, no ties. I work hard, play harder.” She leaned forward, getting in their space. “I’m dominant by nature, and that includes in the bedroom. Question is, are you up for the challenge.” She held Yvonne’s gaze and Julie held her breath.
“I’m not committing to anything without talking to my wife.”
“I respect that. I don’t have a husband or wife to consider.”
It was on the tip of Julie’s tongue to ask if she’d been married to a woman or a man, but it seemed too personal to ask on a first date; if this even was a date. She hoped it was, and she hoped there’d be a second date.
“Let’s be clear about one thing. I’m not looking for a commitment, but I will commit to making your dreams come true.”
A snort huffed out of Julie before she could stop it. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I am.” Pamela held her gaze. The look of a promise made Julie’s heart rate trip into overdrive.
The bell above the door chimed and Pamela released her from her gaze. Julie sucked in air, feeling like she’d been starved of oxygen.
The newcomer glanced in their direction, turned back to the counter, then did a double-take. “Pam?” Her face lit up.
“Hi, Trish.”
“Friend?” Julie asked.
“Good friend. She’s been out of town, wasn’t expecting her back until tomorrow.”
The woman headed in their direction, her gaze flicking between all three.
Shit, this could be awkward.
Yvonne squeezed Julie’s hand under the table as if she’d had the same thought.
Pamela stood, and the two women hugged. “Good to see you.” She held her friend by the shoulders. “You look good. Rested.”
“Really? I’m bloody knackered.” Trish looked pointedly at Yvonne and Julie. “Social call?”
“Business.”
Julie didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved. Yvonne watched the exchange, her expression neutral.
“Sorry to interrupt. Call me tomorrow.” The woman, Trish, pecked Pamela on the cheek, stopped at the counter to pay for what appeared to be a bag of coffee beans, and was gone.
“Business?” Yvonne looked affronted. “We’re a business transaction to you?”
“Would you rather I’d told her the truth?” The corner of her mouth tilted in that damn sexy smile.
“No, but you could’ve said, I don’t know, that we were friends or something?”
“Tell me, Veronica.” She turned to Yvonne. “If your best friend walked in here and you told her I was a friend, would she believe you?”
“No.”
“She wouldn’t have believed her if she said it was a business meeting either,” Julie said, still wondering what she’d meant.
“Well, lucky for us it’s not unusual for me to meet a client on the weekend, and Trish bought it.”
Was she a prostitute? Julie shook her head at the ridiculous thought. “What line of work are you in?”
“I’m a PI, wanna see my badge?” She leaned in close. “Or would you rather see my handcuffs?”
“What kind of Private Investigator carries handcuffs?” Yvonne asked, looking completely baffled.
“I think Madam PI is having us on,” Julie said, hypnotised by Pamela’s piercing gaze.
“Smart and sexy.” Pamela shot her a wink that felt like a tug on her clit.
Her expression sobered. “Just to be clear, my personal life is just that. As is yours. I don’t need to know what you do for a living, how many siblings you do or don’t have, your coming out story, or anything of the sort. The only intimate details I need to know is how you like it.” She bit her lip seductively. “Hard and fast. Slow and Soft.” She lifted a shoulder. “A combination of both?” She paused studying them closely. “Sorry if being so forward makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine, yep, absolutely fine,” Yvonne rambled, a dead giveaway she was anything but.
“I’ve been on Find Someone for a while now,” Pam continued, “And I’ve learned how to weed out the time-wasters. You two seem genuine, and I think we could all have a lot of fun together.”
She turned her attention to Yvonne as if everything rested on her shoulders. “However, I realise you two need to talk, alone, before we can move forward. If I’ve misread the sexual tension between us all—” She gestured between them, moving her hand in a triangle, “—tell me now. I’m a big girl, I can take rejection. I’d prefer that than being strung along.”
A trace of vulnerability shined in her eyes, but she remained stoic.
“I’d drop to my knees now if you ordered me to.” Julie clamped a hand over her mouth, unable to believe the words had tumbled out, much less where they came from.
Nothing was a given until she talked to Yvonne. The last thing she wanted was for Yvonne to feel like she had to play along.
“Sorry.” Julie shook her head. “I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”
“I wish I could help you out with that, but I didn’t bring a gag with me today.”
Yvonne opened and closed her mouth several times, looking from Julie to Pamela and back again, as if she couldn’t believe her ears.
“Gags…aren’t my thing,” Julie said, pleased her voice didn’t giveaway her inner turmoil.
She’d never been gagged, so she didn’t know if it was her thing or not. But the idea of Pamela stuffing her wet panties into her mouth to silence her made her throb.
“That’s fine,” Pamela said. “No two people are alike. That’s why negotiation is important.” She turned back to Yvonne. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m at a business meeting.” A smile accompanied her words.
“Want to go somewhere more relaxed?”
In the blink of an eye, Yvonne went from looking amused to frightened. “As in your place?”
“No.” Pamela chuckled. “You can’t leave Marton without checking out the market. They sell chocolate.” She added as if to sweeten the deal.
Julie found herself smiling, pleased Pamela remembered Yvonne’s confession of her love for all things chocolate.
Having no doubt in her mind they’d be seeing Pamela again, Julie held out a hand. “The name’s Julie,” she introduced herself for a second time, using her real name.
“Nice to meet you, again.” Pamela’s firm grip made Julie wonder what her hands would feel like caressing other parts of her body.
“I’m Yvonne.” Yvonne shoved in her chair. “Let’s go. Chocolate’s waiting to be bought.”
“Is she always this bossy?” Pamela asked as they exited the café.
“I heard that,” Yvonne called over her shoulder.
***
By the time they arrived home, they were both buzzing, high on sunshine and chocolate and a very sexy woman.
“Are you into her?” Julie asked.
“Hmm. Not sure,” Yvonne replied with a goofy grin. “This is so weird.”
“How so?”
“You’re my wife, we’re married. Committed to each other.”
That hadn’t changed and it never would. Yvonne was Julie’s world. “Your point?”
“How many other people do you think are having this conversation on a Sunday afternoon?”
“Probably more than we think.” They couldn’t be the only married couple considering having a threesome.
Sure, they might be in the minority of lesbians, but considering it wasn’t something talked about, they’d never know. And who cared?
“Look.” She pulled Yvonne into her arms. “This is between me and you. No one else.”
“And Pam.”
“You know your eyes sparkled when you said her name?”
“I like her.”
“Me too.”
“Good, now that’s decided, go feed your cat. Then I’m going to taste just how much you like her.” Julie would bet her bottom dollar Yvonne was as wet as she was.
***
After a quick shower and almost quicker
orgasms, they threw on some clothes and came back down to reality. Julie started on dinner, while Yvonne checked their dating app.
The gamey aroma of venison greeted Julie as she unwrapped the meat they’d bought at the market.
Aware of the ache in her cheeks from smiling all day, she coated the fillets in flour, dipped them in egg, and tossed them in breadcrumbs. While letting the coating set, she peeled some potatoes.
From her spot at the kitchen table, the late afternoon sun framing her like a halo, Yvonne entertained Julie by regaling her with their latest messages. None of which interested them in the slightest.
“Hey, here’s one. ‘I could eat your pussy forever.’”
“It’s a guy,” the cynic in Julie replied. Even though they’d blocked men, there were a few masquerading as women.
“It might not be. What should I say?”
Yvonne was still of the mind they should send at least one reply to acknowledge the person. Something Julie wasn’t totally on board with but let go.
“Tell her, if it is a her, that you’ve already found your forever.” Julie grinned, dusting her knuckles on her shirt.
“Ha-ha. Clever. I like it,” Yvonne said, still staring at the screen. She scrunched up her face. “Ew, gross”
“What?”
Without looking up, she read the message. “Hi, my wife would love to have a threesome with two women. I’m happy to just watch or join in if invited.” She lowered her phone. “At least he was polite.”
“Oh my God.” Julie shook her head, amazed Yvonne could still shock her after so many years together.
“What?”
“The dudes pimping out his wife and offering his services and all you can say is at least he’s polite.” She mimicked Yvonne’s tiny shrug.
“Well, at least he didn’t send a picture of his weenie.”
A snort huffed out of Julie before an image of the first pic they’d received from a guy flash through her mind. All these weeks later she still needed brain bleach.
“Oh, shit.” Yvonne’s eyes went wide. “We have a new message from Pamela.”
Julie leaned against the oven door. “What does it say?”
Silence.
Her heart sunk, was it bad news? She turned to Yvonne who had the phone clutched to her chest, lip pulled between her teeth.
“Just tell me.” If she’d decided she didn’t want to meet again, they’d get over it. They had what was most important, each other.