Page 16 of I Want You

She should step away. The sensible part of her brain is screaming at her to do so. She should take a step back and go to her apartment before the last few years of distance are reduced to ashes in a walk-in closet.

But Harper doesn’t move. Her breathing is ragged, a rapid tide that makes the neckline of her silk blouse rise and fall, and the heat radiating from her body pierces the few inches separating them.

“You always do the same thing,” Harper murmurs. Her voice sounds hoarse, raw around the edges.

Victoria raises an eyebrow, though she can feel her pulse pounding wildly in her throat.

“Do what?”

“Push me to the limit,” Harper replies, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue—an unconscious gesture that makes Victoria’s thighs burn. “Make me unsure whether I want to throw something at your head or…”

“Or what, Brooks?” Victoria challenges her, tilting her face ever so slightly.

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”

“I’ve never been good at guessing things. Especially not with you.”

“That’s a lie. With you, it’s always been do or die.”

Harper tries to step to the right to put some distance—and a little sanity—between them, but her heel hits a box of accessories that’s been left lying around. She loses her balance, and Victoria’s instinct kicks in immediately: she wraps her left arm around Harper’s waist and pulls her close. The box slides away, and the clang of metal bracelets echoes like background music.

The impact slams Harper hard against her body.

Victoria holds her breath. One hand presses against Harper’s hip; the other clings to her shoulder. She feels her ex-wife’s chest pressed against her own, the instant hardening of her nipples beneath the fabric, and that damned perfume with a hint of sandalwood that has haunted her in every dream since she set foot in France.

“Let go,” Harper whispers. But she makes no move to pull away. On the contrary: she presses her palm against Victoria’s chest, clutching the fabric of her clothes.

“It doesn’t seem like that’s what your body is asking for,” Victoria replies in a hoarse voice, sliding her fingers from Harper’s hip down to her lower back, forcing her to press even closer. She feels Harper’s warm center brushing against her thigh.

“Don’t you dare decide for me,” Harper protests, fixing her gaze on Victoria. There’s anger, yes, but also a need that stifles any attempt to maintain her dignity.

“Tell me to stop, then,” Victoria challenges, leaning in until her lips almost brush the corner of her ex-wife’s mouth. “Tell me now, and I’ll get out of here.”

Harper swallows hard. Her eyes drop to Victoria’s mouth—swollen and eager—and then rise again.

“Shut your mouth, Vance,” Harper murmurs, hooking her fingers around Victoria’s neck to pull her down.

The kiss is neither cautious nor diplomatic. It’s a hungry collision, an explosion of pent-up rage and desire. Harper’s lips part instantly, and Victoria doesn’t waste a second: she thrusts her tongue possessively inside, exploring that warm mouth she knows better than anything in the world. Harper moans on the spot, a deep sound that vibrates straight into Victoria’s chest, and Victoria tangles her hands in Harper’s hair, pulling hard to deepen the contact.

Victoria pushes her against the dressing room wall. Several dresses fall from their hangers with a whisper of silk, but neither of them cares. Victoria pins Harper against the wall with her own body, wedging her knee between her ex-wife’s legs. Harper stifles a moan as she feels the pressure against her core, spreading her legs wider to give her access and wrapping her thighs around Victoria’s waist.

“Damn you,” Harper gasps as soon as Victoria parts her lips by a few millimeters to lower her mouth toward her neck.

“Keep talking…” Victoria whispers against the warm skin of her throat, nibbling along her jawline until a shiver runs through her.

Victoria’s hands rush down Harper’s back, and then she slips one beneath her clothes. Harper throws her head back, exposing her neck completely, while her hands blindly search for Victoria’s warm skin. She slips a hand beneath Victoria’s clothes as well, reaching straight into Victoria’s lace bra and squeezing her breast with a desperation that makes Victoria tremble.

“Shit…” Harper gasps between disjointed kisses, pulling at Victoria’s top until it slips off her shoulders and falls to the floor. “I’ve been dying for your lips for years.”

“You can try that later…” Victoria replies, a delicious smile playing on her lips.

She slides her hands beneath Harper’s underwear. The skin of her buttocks is burning. When Victoria presses her palm against Harper’s crotch, she finds her soaking wet, radiating a scorching heat that seeps through the lace.

“God…” Victoria lets out a ragged sigh, feeling triumph and desire burn in her gut. “You’ve been wanting me, haven’t you?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Harper demands, grabbing her by the nape of her neck and digging her nails into her skin as she arches her hips upward, desperately seeking contact.

Victoria doesn’t need to be asked twice. She slides the lace aside and sinks two fingers straight into Harper’s hot wetness. Harper’s moan is loud and clear, muffled only because Victoria covers her mouth with hers in a deep, wet kiss. Victoria begins to move her fingers inside her, slowly at first, feeling Harper’s inner walls squeeze around them violently, recognizing her, embracing her.