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Everything stilled as we stared at each other.

A beat, and then another.

She grabbed my shirt in two hands, like she wanted to throttle me—or pull me in closer. I honestly didn’t care which. Just fucking do it already. End me or take me, but don’t leave me like this.

I could feel the warmth of her hands on my chest through the cotton. The warmth of her breath against my chin. Confusion and lust warred in her pretty hazel eyes. My chest ached. My dick ached. It would kill me if she didn’t kiss me. It would kill me if she did.

And then she rolled up onto her toes and yanked me down to her mouth.

Even though I’d half expected it, the kiss stunned the hell out of me. Her mouth shouldn’t have felt like a song I knew by heart, not all these years later. Our lips did a slow slide together, and my breath hitched at the same time she exhaled a long sigh. Not happy, not sad—more relieved than anything else.

Her hands loosened on my shirt, and for one unbearable moment I thought she was done with me. I couldn’t take it. I needed more. Bracing both of my palms on the countertop, I leaned into her sweet mouth. One more taste.

She opened for me immediately, her hands ghosting over my pecs to my shoulders. Her tongue met mine and whoosh—it was the same feeling I got from wingsuiting.

Not the jump. The landing.

The moment I knew I was safe and alive.

The moment I was glad to be alive.

Oh, fuck, this was a bad idea.

It hurt like hell to drag my mouth from Lila’s. I focused on that pain. It was a good reminder of everything I stood to lose. Lila. I couldn’t survive losing her twice. I twisted my face to the side so we were cheekbone to cheekbone. I didn’t have it in me to stop touching her, but as long as I kept my mouth to myself, maybe I could think straight.

“Sebastian.” Her voice was low and sweet. She nipped along the underside of my jaw. “Sebastian.”

Fucking mean.

“That’s not my name to you,” I grumbled.

“Only your friends call you Seb. That’s what you told me, remember? I don’t think most people put ex-wives in the friend category.”

“You’re not my ex-wife yet. I’m still the one you ran to when you needed help. Who is keeping you safe? Me. I will always keep you safe.” I turned my head to look at her. “I will always be the one who takes care of you.”

“Then take care of me now.” She tilted her head, her gray-green eyes as luminous as stars. “Unless you don’t remember how.”

Goddamn. My wife had issued a fucking challenge. My hand wrapped around the base of her slender throat before I could talk myself out of it. I squeezed gently, just the way she liked it, my heated gaze boring into hers. “I remember everything.”

Need flared in her eyes. She tipped her chin. “Then what’s stopping you?” she whispered.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. I promise.”

But Lila wasn’t the one I was worried about. She was the strongest person I knew. Physical pain, emotional pain, it didn’t matter. She took it square on the chin, dusted herself off, and kept going. She would never have sat in a hospital parking lot with a handgun in the glove compartment, waiting. She wasn’t that weak.

She cupped my face in her palms, her fingers threading through my hair and digging into my scalp. Pressed her forehead to mine. “It’s just sex. That’s all. Just once to get it out of our systems.”

Just sex? No, it was never going to be that for me. Not with this woman. My heart took the hit like a pebble to a windshield, fissures of pain spiderwebbing across my chest.

Well, fuck.

If I was going to hurt like a heart attack either way, my dick might as well get something good out of it.

Her lips were only a breath from mine when she sighed, “Fuck me, Seb.”

With a hungry groan, I slammed my mouth to hers and hauled her across the countertop, mindful of her still sore ribs. “Call me that again.”