"Doesn't he?" Victoria's phone buzzed with a reminder about responding to the interview email. "Listen, I need to go to London tomorrow. Job interview."
Something flickered across Sasha's face. "That's brilliant. When do you leave?"
"Early train. I'll be back by evening." Victoria stepped closer, drawn by that magnetic pull she still couldn't quite name. "But I was thinking…"
"Thinking what?"
"Thinking I should probably pack now. Get organized." Her hand found Sasha's waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt to touch warm skin. "Except I keep getting distracted."
"Distracted?" Sasha's voice had gone rough.
"Mmm. Can't seem to focus when you're around." Victoria couldn’t stop herself. But at least she was sensible enough to know that the terrace was a truly dangerous proposition. She grabbed at Sasha’s hand, pulled her through the house, navigating corridors with single-minded determination until they reached the snooker room. Empty, as she'd known it would be at this hour.
She closed the door behind them.
"Victoria, we can't—" Sasha began, but Victoria was already on her, pressing her against the heavy oak door and kissing her until neither of them could think straight.
"We can," Victoria murmured against her mouth. "We just need to be quiet."
Her hands were already working at Sasha's clothes with increasing urgency. She couldn't get enough, couldn't stoptouching, tasting, claiming. Every time felt like the first time and the last time all at once.
She walked Sasha backward until her hips hit the snooker table, then turned her around with gentle insistence. Sasha's breath caught as Victoria pressed against her back, hands sliding around to work at the buttons of her jeans.
"Here?" Sasha managed, though she was already arching back into the contact.
"Here." Victoria's mouth found the curve of her neck. "Unless you'd rather I stop?"
"Don't you dare."
Victoria peeled Sasha's jeans down slowly, deliberately, enjoying the way Sasha trembled under her touch. The green baize of the table was soft under her palms as she bent Sasha forward, and the sight of her like this, flushed and wanting and perfectly undone, made Victoria's mouth go dry.
She took her time, hands and mouth touching every available inch of skin, every place that made Sasha gasp or moan. When her fingers finally slipped between Sasha's thighs, finding her wet and ready, Sasha had to press her face into her own arm to muffle the sound that escaped.
"Quiet," Victoria reminded her, though her own breathing was far from steady. "Can't have anyone hearing."
She worked her slowly, thoroughly, one hand between Sasha's legs and the other pressed flat against the small of her back, holding her in place. The sounds Sasha was making, muffled and desperate, were driving her mad with want.
When Sasha finally began to shake, Victoria had to cover her mouth with one hand, swallowing those gorgeous sounds while Sasha trembled beneath her.
They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, before Victoria helped Sasha straighten and put herself back together. Sasha's hair was a mess, her lips swollen, and shelooked absolutely undone in a way that made Victoria want to start all over again.
"We can’t keep doing this," Sasha said, but she was smiling.
"You like it." Victoria kissed her softly, tasting satisfaction on her tongue.
"I can’t lie about that." Sasha's expression grew more serious. "You'll be back tomorrow evening? From London?"
"Yes. Earliest train I can get back. I promise."
"Good." Sasha's fingers threaded through Victoria's hair, pulling her down for another kiss. "I'd miss you otherwise."
Victoria's chest tightened at the casual admission. "Would you?"
"Obviously. Who else am I supposed to shag in inappropriate locations?"
But there was something underneath the joke, something that made Victoria's heart swell up until it almost hurt. She pulled Sasha close, breathing in the scent of her, trying to memorize this moment.
Because the truth was, at some point she would be leaving for good. She'd get a job, this one or another, and return to London, return to her real life where investment banking and eighty-hour weeks left no room for summer romances with beautiful women who made her forget why she'd ever cared about being perfect.
