Who would have thought that a glass rod with nubbly bits on it would feel so good? It was the first time she'd plucked up the courage to request it. Slow and steady did it for her. Bernie arched her back, held on tight and groaned louder than she'd ever intended to do in her life. That pillow placement was fantastic. Serena really brought out a lustful side to Bernie she'd never known she'd had.

She fell back, grateful and satisfied.

'I don't know how to thank you.'

She caught the curve of that smile that promised mischief.

'I do.'

She might have known it wasn't going to be so simple.

Turn up to the dreaded family event in a dress. That was all she had to do. Serena took pity on her and went with her to rent one at the designer store in the next town. Bernie felt uncharacteristically nervous as she stepped into the posh boutique, armed with Serena's guidance and the promise of a quickie before the trial that was her daughter's 23rd birthday. Because Marcus was going to be there. Because his bitchy mother was going to be there. Because Cam had convinced Charlotte that it was a good idea and she'd reluctantly agreed. Bernie wasn't so sure but she'd been so grateful that her daughter had even considered letting her back into her life that she'd agree to almost anything.

It hadn't been so bad. The first few dresses were nice enough but she felt like she was dressing up in someone else's clothes. The next dress was the one. A sensible chocolate brown and severely cut. Except on her it looked positively dangerous. She smoothed it down over her hips and turned her head round to wonder at how it looked. It was sleek and sophisticated, something that made her look like she worked in a lawyer's office. Very sharp. She couldn't quite believe it. Normally she would have baulked at the idea of showing off the scar on her chest so brazenly but the open collar didn't look as intimidating as she normally would have found it. She examined every inch of herself, trying to imagine herself walking into the room looking so different to what Marcus had ever known.

'Strutting, darling.'

It was as if Serena could read her thoughts. A lunchtime glass was raised to her lips, her customary Shiraz was on offer and she'd clearly been here before. Serena believed in designer for cut price. Bargains were her stock in trade when it came to her wardrobe, fuelling the taste for the finer things on the cheap in that slightly vulgar manner her mother had deplored in her. Bernie found it refreshing even if she had no taste for the same things. Watching Serena revel in sensual pleasures thrilled her, having spent all her adult life with a man who slurped his soup while watching the rugby and slept in his socks. When she wasn't running away from her responsibilities with him, that is.

'You'll be strutting through the door all the way to the drinks cabinet because we all know he can't have you anymore. And you look hot. Much more so than that frumpy nanny he's determined to make a go of with.' Bernie honked once. It was their code that Serena had devised. Honk once for yes/agree, twice for no/disagree. It had become very useful. Their in-jokes delighted them to no end.

'She'll be much more suitable for him' she said generously. She couldn't help turning back to look at herself in the mirror. The classic cream stilettoes Serena had chosen for her did look good with the dress. Trust Serena to choose this outfit. She did know what looked good on Bernie, even if Bernie would stubbornly choose the plainest ensemble. But deceptively simple as it was, she did look fantastic. She was feeling it. She really wanted to wear the dress. She met Serena's appreciative gaze in the mirror and saw herself though those eyes; cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering, the back of her hands resting on her hips, feeling the fabric against her skin.

'We'll take it' Serena murmured, taking a sip of wine. The look she gave Bernie made the other woman audibly suck in her breath.

'And if you ruin it, you'll have to buy it.'

Bernie was thankful that nobody else could hear those low prowling tones. If they weren't careful, she could have her promised quickie right here instead. As if anticipating this thought, Serena raised her eyebrows and shook her head warningly just as the assistant popped her head around the door. After confirming that this was the one she wanted, Bernie shot a quick glance at her benefactor who gave her a look, that one that promised lipstick marks on her inner thighs. She used that look a lot. It had the desired trick of disabling Bernie every time. Bernie struggled to control herself, playing the prim madam, sighing and pressing her lips together, shaking her head at the shamelessness of her partner. Never had she thought that someone like Serena would be her delight but it surprised her every time.

She had to make a mad dash to get to the party, forgoing her promised reward but Serena was right. The dress did make Marcus's eyes pop out from his head and made her former mother-in-law stare disapprovingly. Tutting happened. Where did she think she was going in that dress, flaunting that horrid scar? This time, instead of glaring at her, Bernie just smiled, infuriating Mrs Dunn the elder even further. She focused on her daughter who begrudgingly accepted her affections and even spoke to her every so often during the evening. Cam gave her the thumbs up. Bernie was bubbling with relief after Charlotte had accepted a hug, a smidge warmer than she had been before, by the time she left. Serena picked her up, much to Marcus and his mother's horror. She grinned at the sight of them goggling at her on their porch as they drove away.

'So? Was I right or what I right?'

'You're always right' Bernie pecked affectionately at her cheek. She felt invincible in that dress.

'Damn right I am.'

'I didn't ruin the dress.'

'No matter. I'd like to buy it for you. But first I need to get you out of it.'

Bernie sat back and closed her eyes, shaking in anticipation.

This time Serena unzipped the dress and laid it carefully over a chair. Bernie didn't object to this. She was in no position to object to anything for the rest of the night. Serena made sure of that.