This is the second of two chapters I have posted today - Make sure you don't miss chapter 8!

We walk into the living room, and I take a seat on the sofa, assuming that we would sit together as we had before. Andrea hesitates and then takes a seat in the armchair opposite me on the other side of the coffee table.

"You're still angry with me," I state flatly, watching as she nervously picks at her fingers.

"A little," she wrinkles her nose, "but mostly, I'm… cautious."

"What does that mean?" I ask, desperately wishing we were closer.

"It means that I have no idea where this conversation is going to go, and you are far too tempting for me to sit next to."

Andrea is sitting bolt upright, with her arms crossed in front of her, but she leans forwards a little now which I take to be an encouraging gesture. "All I know is that you kissed me this morning, but I don't know what it means to you. What I do know is that I don't want that to happen again, if this is all you want from me," she explains much more bluntly than I was expecting.

I understand why she won't sit next to me but I feel like she is too far away for a conversation this intimate. I get up and walk over to her so that I can sit on the coffee table facing her, moving her drink to one side to make room for myself.

"Andrea, you seem to have been operating under the misconception that I don't care for you," I tell her gently, reaching out with my hands and placing them on her knees, "and nothing could be further from the truth."

"I care for you too," she replies, but her eyes are guarded. "That can mean different things to different people, though." She leans forward, reaching past me, her hand brushing against my leg as she retrieves her drink. She takes a large gulp, eyeing me contemplatively, before leaning forwards again to place her glass back on the table. She sits there, waiting, not speaking. Her eyes never leave mine though and I know she is waiting for me to elaborate on my statement.

I sit back and swallow my nerves. If ever there was a time for a grand gesture or a leap of faith, it is now. I know that I must be brave, if I am to be worthy of the magnificent, breathtaking woman, who is sitting in front of me.

"Andrea, I have loved you for so long that I can't even remember when it started."

She looks at me, eyes wide and more than a little startled I think, that I have been so upfront. It's surprising to both of us, but I know it was the right thing to do.

"Really?" she asks, her eyes softening as she gazes at me, and I swear I can see the longing in her expression. She relaxes slightly then, and I am relieved when she uncrosses her arms, resting her hands in her lap.

"Yes, darling." I smile, as I see the light coming back to her, "I want to build a future with you. We could have such an incredible life together, Andrea, and this is far more than just attraction for me."

"For me too, Miranda." She grins at me then, and a mischievous look comes into her eye, "the attraction part is very much there though, you have no idea how often I have fantasised about taking you to bed."

"I would imagine we share some of the same fantasies." I feel myself blushing, as I think of all the times I imagined her stalking into my office, closing the door and taking me over my desk. For someone who likes to be in control at all times, it was odd to realise that I want nothing more than to give myself to her.

I want her to possess me and I wonder if she wants that too? I want to be hers.

I know nothing of what she is like in the bedroom, but I know how she kissed me in the kitchen. I may have initiated it but she took control without a second thought, regardless of who I have been to her for the last three years.

That's not all I want though, and for this to go further I need to hear it from her.

"Andrea, if you mean the words, and only if… won't you please say them?" I don't want to beg but I do need reassurance. Desperately.

She takes my hands and pulls me forwards so that I land on her lap, with my knees on either side of her thighs. She puts a hand on either side of my face and brings me towards her, kissing me softly.

"I love you," she tells me, looking calmly into my eyes. I realise then that even if I hadn't just heard the words, her expression is telling me everything I need to know. I am surprised at the frankness that we have each displayed today, but it was time for us both to lay all our cards on the table. My children are fond of the saying 'go big, or go home' and for once I agree with them. So does Andrea, evidently.

I have never sat on someone's lap before, let alone straddled them the way that I am Andrea. I have never been an affectionate person, I don't normally hold hands, and I'm not someone who likes to snuggle. All of these things combined are reasons why both of my husbands referred to me as frigid on more than one occasion.

It was my first husband who went to the press and earned me the sobriquet Ice Queen. After many years of trying, I was still unable to please him in the bedroom, and he helped the press to tear me apart because of it.

My second husband gave up trying after a very short amount of time. It wasn't long after we married, that he went in search of his pleasure elsewhere. Stephen found me to be cold and unresponsive, aloof and detached. His ego never quite got over the fact that he couldn't bring me to climax.

I wonder what he will think when my relationship with Andrea becomes public record. Will he realise why I was that way? I know things now that I didn't know then. For someone who has had two ex-husbands and several relationships with men, I am somehow entirely sure now that I am a lesbian.

There is a reason I have been the way I am, and it's not because I am cold, or frigid, or any of the other names that have been thrown at me. It's because I don't find men attractive, I just didn't realise it until I met Andrea.

"Hey, where did you go?" Andrea asks me, and I see her looking at me, concern evident in her eyes.

"Sorry. I was lost in my thoughts. It's nothing bad, I promise," I try to reassure her, "I just realised there was a reason that my ex-husbands found me lacking, and I didn't realise it until I met you."

"Oh?"

"I think I'm a lesbian," I tell her, and the words sound strange and alien coming from my lips, but at the same time so damn right.

I can see the wheels turning in her head, so I continue, "you make me want to do things that I never enjoyed before. I always thought there was something wrong with me. I always thought I just didn't like physical affection, but you made me realise that it's not me. I'm just not attracted to men. I've never wanted to be close to them, the way I want to be close to you."

"How do you feel about that? That's a pretty big thing to discover about yourself?"

I stop then rather than answering impulsively and I take a moment to gather my thoughts. Andrea just sits and lets me think, patiently waiting for my answer.

"It feels amazing." I realise how true that is as I say it, "I feel like my whole life I have been walking around in black and white, wondering what the fuss is all about when people say that life and love are so beautiful. Now though, my life has exploded into colour, and I finally see what people have meant all these years."

"That's amazing, Miranda." She tugs me against her, hugging me tightly.

I am content in her arms, leaning against her, with my face tucked into her neck. It may be my new favourite place to be. Her hands are gentle but insistent, and they move from my back to my neck. Her fingers then trail down my sides, stroking me, and I sit back and watch the journey her hands are taking, fascinated by the way that they are making me feel.

She drops her hands onto my legs and slowly inches them higher and higher, under my skirt. She is tantalisingly slow as her fingers make their way up until she is so close to my briefs that I can feel the heat of her hands. Her thumbs rub soft circles on the insides of my thighs, inching closer to where I desperately want her, but I can tell she is determined to tease me because her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

She runs her thumbs along the edges of my lacy, bikini-cut briefs, a barely there caress, and I am unable to stop the moan that leaves my lips. I lean forwards and kiss her urgently, blushing when I realise I am rocking on her lap.

"You are so hot, Miranda, I can't wait to make you mine," she all but growls in my ear and her voice nearly makes me come undone, right where I am.

I want to take her to bed and make love to her, but I suddenly get nervous. I sit up, still perched on her lap, but I move back onto her knees so I can look at her properly.

"What is it?" she cups my cheek and looks into my eyes.

I'm not sure what to say. I have spent three years loving her, wanting her, fantasising about her, but it always seemed so impossible that I would ever have her. Until now.

In all the scenarios my helpful brain came up with, not once did I consider the fact that I would be naked with her, even though undoubtedly I had imagined us this way. She is young and beautiful, absolutely flawless. I am much older and have the body that carried my twins, though I could never regret having them. I am suddenly worried about what she will think of my physique.

"I need to take this slowly," I tell her, even though that's not what I mean at all.

She reaches up and brushes the forelock of hair that always falls into my eyes, off of my face, "we can take this as slowly as you want. There's no pressure, I promise."

She is so sweet and so understanding, and I feel awful for letting her think that I am not ready for her to love me. I don't know how to admit that I lack body confidence when all she has seen is my Runway persona. I don't mind if she sees me without makeup, we got past that a long time ago in Paris, when she saw me at a low point.

However, seeing me without clothes is a whole different consideration. I am too shy to talk to her about it, let alone reveal myself to her.

She suggests that we watch a movie before bed, and I immediately agree. I'm not ready to say goodnight to her yet, and I just want to spend some time laying in her arms. She stands up with me still on her lap and I am amazed at her strength. I feel so cared for when she sets me down gently and holds on to me until she is sure I am balanced.

"I'll join you in a whisky tonight, I'll just grab the bottle," and she dashes out of the room, leaving me to take a few calming breaths. She's back in a matter of seconds, holding out the bottle victoriously. I collect our glasses and we head into the theatre room.

She pours us another rather large measure each, and if she was a man, especially one of my husbands, then I would have assumed she was trying to get me drunk. This trick was employed by both of my ex-husbands in an attempt to 'loosen' me up and get me into bed.

This is Andrea though, and I know without a second's doubt, that she is safe. It is ok to drink with her because she will respect my boundaries.

This time there is no question of where we will sit. She throws herself into the corner and holds open her arms expectantly. I move into them like I have been doing this for years, and settle against her comfortably, allowing myself to relax fully.

She asks me what I want to watch, and I bravely ask if she knows any lesbian movies, because I have never seen one. I am curious, not just about the relationship, but also the physical aspect of it all. I feel so inexperienced compared to Andrea, and I'm grasping at straws. I'm not sure what I will be able to learn from a movie, but since I have no idea what to do at the moment, anything is helpful at this stage.

She chooses a movie that she tells me has become popular on what she calls 'the scene' since its release. Ironically, one of the main characters was straight or believed she was until she met the other woman. It is the first time I have ever really seen kissing between two women, let alone sexual acts being depicted, and I feel myself vibrating with arousal.

I don't think the scenes could be described as explicit, but the implications give my head a whirlwind of information. Seeing a woman, on her knees, straddling her partner's head as she prepares to sink down and take pleasure from her mouth, has me trembling. Will Andrea want to do that to me? What will she be like as a lover? What will she taste like?

The women I am watching seem to be enjoying themselves, and I can't help but imagine Andrea above me in the same position as the women on the screen. She makes me want to do things I have never considered doing before, and I feel myself squirming in pleasure at the thought of everything she will teach me.

Andrea is not helping the situation, as her torturous fingers are never still for long. Her touches are innocent, or at least they could be. I get the feeling that nothing about her actions are as innocent as they seem though. I look at her and she turns to me and smirks, and I know she is teasing me.

"What?" she asks me, fluttering her eyelashes innocently, and then laughing when I roll my eyes at her.

I pick up our glasses and we both drink our whisky, and I refill them again. I am in desperate need of something to take the edge off because I am about to beg her to take me; right here, right now.

By the time the movie is over, I am more than a little tipsy, and I'm not sure anymore why I was worried about letting her take me to bed. My body confidence issues are gone, along with my inhibitions, and I ask her if she will consider staying with me in my room.

"Let me just go brush my teeth and take my makeup off. Get yourself ready and I'll join you in a moment," she happily agrees, and I experience butterflies in my stomach at the thought of her laying next to me in bed. I have refreshed our glasses yet again and I have a plan in mind.

I want her, and I want her tonight.

I hurry into my room and freshen up. I have a momentary panic about removing my makeup but she has seen me without it before, so off it comes. I brush my teeth and then my hair, and by the time she walks into my bedroom, I am settled under the covers.

My mouth goes dry when I see her in matching pale grey sleep shorts and tank top, and I pull back the covers so she can get in. I reach for my drink, and take a large gulp, although I can feel I'm already half drunk.

We lay side by side, and I can't stop myself from kissing her. Our legs slip together, and her thigh feels incredible against me when she rolls us so that she is on top. Her body is moving against mine as we kiss and I can feel myself getting close already.

"Please," I hear myself whimper, as she kisses my throat, my collar bone, my chest. Her hand runs up my thigh and under my negligee, and I desperately want more from her devious fingers.

"Please touch me." I am almost begging now, and she giggles, but she moves off and lays next to me.

She strokes my cheek, and her touches become soothing rather than arousing.

"You are very tempting, Miranda, and I would like nothing more than to fuck you all night long," she tells me and her words are almost as arousing as her touch. No one has ever spoken to me like that or used that word with me before and it sends a jolt of desire through me.

She kisses me gently and then continues, "but before we started drinking, you set a clear boundary, and I can't in good conscience make love to you."

"But I want you to," I almost whine.

"I know you do, sweetheart, but you didn't when you still had a clear head. If you want to tomorrow, then we will spend all day in bed, but I won't take this further with you when you are too tipsy to consent," she tells me firmly. "I don't want you to have regrets."

I hear what it is she is truly saying though, beneath the words she speaks. She is worried that I will regret her.

I am embarrassed about my display of pure need, and hide my face in her neck

"Don't be embarrassed," she murmurs, "you're not the only one who is turned on right now. I'm so wet, Miranda, and I'm aching for you. Trust me."

Her words make me delirious and I wonder if I can change her mind. This is her boundary though, that she doesn't want to do this tonight when I have been drinking, and so I have to respect that.

"I've never been so aroused in my life," I admit shyly, squirming uncomfortably, "my thighs are wet, Andrea, and that's never happened to me before. It's all your fault," I scold her playfully.

She giggles, and I can't help but join in with her laughter.

"Tomorrow," she promises me. "Tomorrow I am going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."

I believe her.

She almost brought me to climax without even touching me directly and I am looking forward to finally exploring her body. I hope that I am still so at ease with her tomorrow and that alcohol or not, I have broken through my barrier. In the short time we spent kissing, she explored my body so reverently, that I trust she won't be too repulsed by me.

She rolls me into her arms and tucks me under her chin. My last waking moments are spent listening to the sound of her heart.