Today was the day.
For the first time in almost five months, they would be in the same building. The same room. Breathing the same air.
It was the trial. Chloe's ex. The one who wouldn't let go. The one who had crossed the line--again and again. Holly.
But it had never been straightforward. They had broken up and fallen back together more times than either of them could count. And the reason? That spark. That magnetic, electric pull that kept drawing them back. Again and again. But it was always physical--raw, charged, and ultimately destructive.
Their history was carved into every surface they'd touched: hotel beds, the back seat of the car, pub toilets, the stairs, the floor, the hot tub under the stars. The bath. The shower. Anywhere. Everywhere.
But this time, Chloe knew she had to end it. Truly end it.
And that's how she found herself here--standing in a courtroom, about to speak against the woman who had loved her, wrecked her, fucked her in ways she couldn't even articulate. The woman who had made her body explode, who had been the first to make her lose control entirely.
She had asked for a screen so she wouldn't have to see Holly--because if she saw her, she wouldn't go through with it. But the "screen" was no more than a flimsy paper curtain. And the usher had walked Holly right past her--close enough that Chloe could feel her. Smell her. Shaking, she barely kept her footing.
Holly pleaded guilty. Chloe only had to read her victim statement. She poured her pain into the words, but laced them with unspoken confessions. Hidden messages only Holly would hear: This wasn't to hurt you. It was to save us. To save me.
When Holly was escorted out again--barely a breath away--Chloe's heart stuttered in her chest. She was sure Holly could hear it. Feel it.
Afterward, Chloe waited, as advised. Time to let the tension settle. Time for Holly to be gone. She headed to the toilets, unaware that her past was still in the building.
She always chose the furthest cubicle. She always had. But as she approached, a door flung open.
And there she was.
Holly.
She collided with her, pinning Chloe to the tiled wall. Their bodies flush. Breath mingling. Their eyes locked.
Hatred? Desire? Chloe couldn't tell. Holly was motionless, tense, staring.
Slowly--carefully--Holly reached for Chloe's chin and tilted it. Her lips brushed Chloe's neck. A feather-light kiss, just above the collarbone.
No resistance. No words. Just the breathless silence of something reawakening.
Each kiss was painfully slow. Delicate. Torturous. A nibble. A moan. A whisper of what had once been everything. Chloe's body betrayed her--arched, surrendered, ached. And then, something snapped.
Chloe shoved her backward, guiding her into the cubicle. She slammed the door. Locked it.
No more hesitation.
Holly surged forward, her mouth crashing into Chloe's. Desperate. Messy. A hand on her breast, the other slipping down, tracing every curve she remembered. Chloe grabbed her ass--still perfect in her palms--pulling her closer, grinding against her.
Chloe had chosen her outfit carefully that morning. Just in case. Some wild, secret part of her had hoped for this. Expected this.
And now--pressed against the cold cubicle wall, hearts pounding in sync--she was grateful for that instinct.
Holly's hand slid down, fingertips brushing the hem of Chloe's dress. She found bare skin--thigh--and paused. The contact was electric. Chloe jolted, as if the air itself had cracked with heat. Fireworks, or maybe an earthquake. Holly met her eyes, searching. Chloe's breath caught, but she gave the smallest nod--permission wrapped in need.
Holly's touch moved upward, slow and deliberate, tracing the soft inside of Chloe's thighs. Her fingers found damp fabric--already soaked, already begging. The spark hadn't died. It had been there all along, hidden beneath the wreckage, smoldering, waiting for a single touch to ignite it again.
Holly sank to her knees in the tight confines of the cubicle, pulling Chloe's underwear down with practiced urgency. And there it was--bare, glistening, and right in front of her. The place she had dreamed about, ached for, the centre of every fantasy since the day they'd split.
She didn't hesitate. She leaned in, mouth meeting heat, tongue parting slick folds to find the spot she knew too well. Chloe let out a sharp groan, one hand slamming against the stall wall for balance, the other tangling in Holly's hair.
Holly licked slowly, deliberately, savoring every second. The taste of her. The sound of her. The way Chloe's hips moved of their own accord, chasing sensation. Every moan that spilled from her lips fed the fire between them.
"Shhh," Holly whispered against her, breath hot, voice teasing. "We'll get thrown in jail for fucking in a courthouse bathroom."
Chloe's laugh escaped as a breathless gasp. "It'd be worth iii--" But the sentence died in her throat the moment Holly thrust two fingers inside her--deep, slick, unrelenting. Chloe choked on air, her body arching, walls clenching around the sudden intrusion.
Holly didn't need to ask. She already knew--Chloe was soaked, ready, desperate. There was no hesitation, no resistance. Just heat. Need. Permission.
But then Holly pulled back. Slowly. Deliberately. Rising to her feet with predatory calm, eyes locked on Chloe's flushed, panting face. She smirked.
"You think you're the only one who came dressed for this?" she murmured.
And then Chloe saw it--Holly unbuttoning her trousers just enough to reveal it: black, strapped tight to her hips, veined and glistening at the tip. She'd been wearing it the whole time. Under her courtroom clothes. Hidden, just like the fire that still burned between them.
Chloe's lips parted in disbelief. Desire. Awe.
"Jesus, Holly..."
"Turn around," Holly said. Low. Commanding. "Hands on the wall."
Chloe obeyed without a word, her body already trembling in anticipation. This wasn't just a fuck. This was years of obsession, addiction, punishment, and pleasure--ready to crash over them both, one last time.
Holly stepped between her legs, one hand gripping Chloe's thigh to hold her steady, the other guiding the strap-on to her slick entrance. She didn't ease in. She didn't tease. She thrust deep--hard--making Chloe cry out, her fingers clawing at the tiled wall.
"Fuck, Holly..."
"You wanted this," Holly growled, her hands now tight on Chloe's hips, dragging her back with each punishing stroke. "You wore that dress knowing exactly what you were doing."
"So did you," Chloe gasped, head falling back against Holly's shoulder. "You came here with it on... in a fucking courtroom."
Their bodies slammed together, rhythm brutal, perfect. Chloe felt each thrust shatter something inside her. Not just from pleasure--but from everything that hadn't been said. Everything that still lived between them.
Holly leaned in, her lips brushing Chloe's cheek, her breath warm and shaking. "I hate how much I still want you."
