‘Let’s get some air,’ he suggested.

It was still fairly warm outside, when we stood on the corner of the main road, just outside the pub. I felt exposed out there. Where I could have imagined us kissing in our discreet corner of the pub, now we were out in the open the spell was broken. What if someone either of us knew saw us? He was married, after all.

‘Which direction are you heading, we could share a cab?’ he suggested.

‘I’m Brixton. You’re Clapham, right?’ He’d already described where he lived to me earlier.

‘Perfect, we can get a cab. I think there’s a taxi rank this way.’

‘Taxi rank?’ I smirked. ‘Which London do you live in? Everyone gets Ubers, I haven’t heard of anyone seeking out a “taxi rank” in years,’ I giggled.

‘Oh really, Miss Lucy Raven, well maybe I’m just a proper old-fashioned gent,’ he grinned, tipping an imaginary bowler hat.

‘Hmm, gent? Local scallywag, more like,’ I retorted.

‘Let’s see about that,’ he replied, and then he peeled off down the street and leapt up into a pirouette under a street light. It was quite skillful, considering how drunk we were. I chuckled. He had always been a funny guy. The orange glow of a free taxi came into sight and he caught the driver’s attention with a whistle.

The next thing I knew, he was putting a hand on my back to guide me into the black cab, and then it was as if destiny was controlling what would happen next. It was so easy, so natural, so right and so totally wrong at the same time. He took my hand and squeezed it tightly. Every touch felt charged. We kept turning to look at each other, lust in our eyes; weighing up what would happen next without needing the words. The cabbie would definitely have assumed we were a couple. Why should he have noticed that only one of us was wearing a wedding band?

My insides yearned for Jason; I was aching for him. This feeling, it was more than just lust. I was familiar with lust and its heightened senses, but this was lust mixed with rekindled love. A sensation that was impossible to rationalise, but was tipping me into insanity and making me willing to take such a huge risk on this night of all nights.

I unlocked the door to my flat with Jason standing behind me. I could feel his breath on my hair, one hand touching my waist. A hurried goodbye in the back of a taxi didn’t seem right, not with our history. It made sense to invite him in.

The second the front door closed behind me, before either of us had even spoken, in the darkness of my hallway, he turned my face towards his, cradled my head in both hands and leant forwards. Suddenly his tongue was in my mouth, swirling around mine passionately and it felt electric. Our bodies were pressed together. At first I was taken aback by the urgency, but I happily gave into it. Kissing him felt familiar and right. Once a good kisser, always a good kisser. He smelled good. His lips were soft and warm. Our noses gently brushed one another. Occasionally we broke apart to look at each other, eyes shining with longing. His hands were running up and down my sides. Then they were on my breasts, holding them through my jumper, while his mouth worked its way down my neck, to my collarbone, kissing me all the way, breathing deeply. He lifted my jumper slightly and pressed his body into my bare stomach, then his hands slid further under my jumper and I gasped as he pulled down my bra until one nipple popped out of the cup and my flesh was pushed upwards. He lowered himself and put his mouth around my exposed nipple, whipping it into a solid peak with his tongue and then he did the same with the other.