Erica stood at the kitchen window, watching January snow blanket the garden in silence. Behind her, John's footsteps approached — she knew his rhythm by heart after so many years. "Coffee?" he asked, already pouring. She turned, accepting the mug with both hands, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. Two weeks had passed since New Year's Eve. Two weeks of replaying David's hands on her back, the heat in his eyes, the...

The bedroom light was low, a single lamp casting warm gold across the dresser mirror. Erica stood in front of it, fingertips smoothing the black dress over her hips one final time. The fabric clung exactly as she wanted - low in the back, exposing the soft dip of her spine almost to the curve of her waist, snug across her breasts and waist so every breath reminded her how it felt to be looked at with hunger. Her pale brow...

The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting golden flickers across the room. Outside, the December night pressed cold against the windows, but inside the air was thick with warmth: wine, woodsmoke, and the quiet intimacy of two bodies long familiar yet still hungry for each other. Erica nestled deeper into John's chest, the soft blanket draped over them both. At forty-nine, she carried her curves with effortless grace: 5...