Maybe it was her closeness, the smell of the sweat on her skin mixed with the bitter peachy perfume she always wore. Or maybe it was the memory of her writhing against me—begging me not to stop—even if both of us knew we shouldn’t have been doing what we were. Or maybe it was just her. The same Victoria that’d been living in my dreams and haunting my nightmares. The one I yearned for even when she wasn’t supposed to be mine. Ultimately it didn’t matter why I did it. Only that in one moment we were staring at each other and the next I’d crashed my lips to hers.
