Kate opened her eyes to find Tilly’s hooded, her focus dropped to watch the pad of her thumb pull at the fullness of Kate’s lip. Suddenly, she looked up. Their eyes caught. “I look at him and I feel nothing. I look at you and I feel like my skin is on fire.”

Christ. “You’re scared. March is getting closer and you’re scared.”

Withdrawing her touch from Kate’s mouth, Tilly shook her head. “I’ve felt like this since that night on the ferry. No, before that. Sitting under the jacaranda in that backyard in St. Kilda.” She paused, drew a deep breath. “Kate, I think I’ve felt like this since we were sixteen.” She dug her palm between her breasts, rubbed it there as though she could roll away the ache. “I am so certain in my heart and it terrifies me.”

Gently, Kate drew Tilly to her by the waist. The press of Tilly’s hips against her own was maddening. As their breath mingled, desperation erupted inside her. She bunched the thin cotton of Tilly’s dress in her hands. “You’re marrying somebody else,” she whispered.

Long, slim fingers smoothed the collar of Kate’s shirt, tracked low until they twitched against the top of her breasts. “I have never felt more married to somebody in my heart than I do to you.”

The breath caught in Kate’s throat. “The thought of you with him…it makes me feel like I’m dying—”

“Kiss me?”

Kate captured her lips.

Tilly’s hands were manic—on her neck, locked in her collarbone, flattened on her breastbone. As Tilly licked into her mouth, Kate burned with the raw desire to pleasure her. No longer did she care about holding back, about scaring Tilly with the extent of her lust. Their time was now.

Kate drew Tilly hard against her body until there wasn’t a breath of space between them. Her heartbeat fired against Tilly’s chest as Tilly’s fingers raked into her hair roughly, her other hand clutching at the back of her plaid shirt.

When her mouth found the pulse in Tilly’s neck, Tilly pulled back. Her eyes were hooded, swollen lips parted as she fought for breath. “I want you to take me somewhere,” she whispered. “Now.”

Mornington Peninsula Cabins and Trailer Park wasn’t exactly the Hilton. It was, however, their only option within a ten-kilometre radius. More hostel than vacation park, Kate had stayed in the cabins a few times when she’d pushed her luck and missed the last boat. Twenty-five dollars a night wasn’t too much to ask for a single bunk bed in a shared cabin for four. Sometimes, if she was lucky, nobody would show after ten and she’d end up with an entire cabin to herself. Tonight, if she was able, she’d ensure that was the case.

Kate stepped into the reception cabin, Tilly close at her heels. The woman behind the counter stubbed her cigarette into an ashtray beside the keyboard. “Missed the ten o’clock, did ya? There’s nobody in Six or Two at the moment, but a few backpackers called through earlier so I can’t guarantee they won’t show up to bunk with ya—”