Aubrey
Islump back in my seat, finally letting out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding while he was here. My heart still leaps, even though he completely broke it only months ago. Every memory of that pain should be warning me, yet it’s like my body forgets the second he steps close.
I want to be unaffected. I want to tell myself his presence shouldn’t make my stomach tighten or my skin heat. But it does—especially when he leaned against the doorframe, looking impossibly good, eyes scanning the room like he was replaying every filthy memory we’d ever made here.
I can still feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, the ache in my core. He saw it. I know he did. And somehow, that’s both maddening and… merciful.
I close my eyes, drawing in a slow breath through my nose—but it only makes me imagine he’s still here. The room still smells faintly of him, and my mind drifts to a time when things were simpler, when my heart was whole.
***
“You’re distracting me,” I murmur, forcing my eyes back to my papers, though my voice betrays how little control I actually have.
Trent leans back on the couch, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not even doing anything.” His black T-shirt hugs every line of his chest, sleeves tight over his biceps.
Dark jeans cling to his thighs as he sprawls across the cushions, hands braced wide against the back, radiating effortless confidence.
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” I say, gripping my pen a little too tightly. “Stop acting innocent.”
“Not my fault you find me irresistible.” He tilts his head, eyes dark with amusement, and slowly lifts his T-shirt, revealing his abs as if he’s presenting them for inspection.
My mouth goes dry. Heat crawls up my neck.
“Is it hot in here,” he teases, a playful glint in his eyes, “or is it just me?”
I keep my head down, pretending to focus on the bakery’s accounts, fingers tapping the calculator even though I’m not punching in anything useful. Suddenly I feel Trent’s hands on my shoulders, big and warm, his thumbs pressing into the tense muscles.
“You feel tense baby.”
“If I’m tense it’s because you’re teasing me.” I mutter, though my voice comes out softer than I mean it to.
“Maybe a little break would do you good.” He rasps as he leans down, his breath brushing my ear before his lips find my neck, nipping and sucking in slow, deliberate passes.
My whole body lights up at the feel of his lips on my skin and I can’t help the moan that escapes me. I lift my hand, gripping his hair as he continues to tease my skin, his low groan vibrating against my throat.
“Give in to the distraction for a little while. You can have whatever you want.”
“What if… what if I want to try being in control?” The words tumble out unsteady, but I don’t move. I stay right where I am, fingers still tangled in his hair, holding him there
“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” His hands trail from my shoulders down my arms, and I feel the gentle pressure as he pivots the office chair, turning me to face him.
“But I don’t know how to be in control. I don’t know what to do or say.” My voice trembles—part fear, part wanting.
“It’s just you and me, baby. Just us. We can be anything we want when we’re together.” He cups my cheek with a tenderness that nearly unravels me. “Let me help you find that part of yourself.”
“Okay.” The word escapes on a breath.
“That’s my girl. Now tell me, what do you want to do?” he asks, thumb brushing my bottom lip.
“I want you to watch me while I make myself come.” I say shyly, eyes dropping before he gently lifts my chin.
“You make me so fucking hard when you talk like that.” His voice breaks on the last word as he shifts closer.
“How do you not get embarrassed talking like that?” I whisper.
“Because for me, it’s important to communicate during sex,” he says, brushing his fingers down my jaw.
“If you’re turning me on or making me feel good, then I’m going to tell you—and I want you to do the same.
I promise you, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.
You’re already doing better than you think you are.
Now trust me enough to tell me what you want and take control. ”
I’m by no means inexperienced, but there are desires I’ve never explored before—things I’ve always wanted to do but could never bring myself to try with previous partners.
Sex before Trent was vanilla at best: not bad, not good… just average. And maybe that was fine, since I had nothing to compare it to. But Trent is anything but vanilla. After the first couple of times we hooked up, I found the courage to tell him some of my desires.
His encouragement is such a turn-on that suddenly all my nerves disappear. My heart pounds, heat crawling over my skin, and I lean in a little closer, craving more of that safe, intoxicating mix of desire and trust he gives me.
I draw in a shaky breath and look up at him. I’m still perched in the office chair, papers and a forgotten calculator scattered across the desk behind me. The heat between us is overwhelming, and a sudden rush of boldness surges through me once again.
“I want your clothes off.”
“Good girl for telling me what you want,” he says, a slow smile spreading across his lips.
I almost melt at the praise as Trent steps back.
He lifts his T-shirt over his head, revealing broad shoulders, strong arms, and defined abs.
The veins in his arms stand out as he moves.
He reaches for his belt—the metallic click echoing softly in the room and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his legs, and kicking them aside.
I take a moment to admire him, my gaze dropping to the erection straining against his boxers.
“Your body is incredible,” I breathe, my fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the chair.
Trent’s lips twitch into a smirk. “All for you, pretty girl,” he says it slowly, as if he knows exactly what it does to me.
I shift in my seat, my heart hammering. “Take your boxers off and go sit on the couch.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, a teasing grin lifting at the corner of his mouth.
Trent peels the boxers off slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The second they’re off and kicked aside, his hand drifts to his long, thick cock, stroking himself deliberately.
“Don’t do that,” I snap, my voice firmer than I expected.
His hand freezes instantly. The power in that obedience hits me like a wave, sending shivers through my body. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling faster, but he doesn’t move until I speak again.
“Sit down,” I command, and he obeys, sliding onto the couch with a low hum of anticipation.
I rise from the chair, eager to strip my own clothes, but Trent’s voice stops me, soft yet commanding.
“Slowly, pretty girl. Take your time—there’s no rush.”
I pause, my hands hovering over my shirt, watching his gaze follow every small movement, burning with desire and patience all at once.
Trent leans back slightly, eyes dark, his lips parting in a small, appreciative smile.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice rough, and a warmth tightens in my chest at the compliment.
I drop the shirt to the floor and unhook my bra, peeling it off my body and letting it fall to the floor.
My fingers tremble slightly as I cup my own breasts for a second before letting them rest naturally.
Trent shifts in his seat, his hand hovering just at his thigh, the tension between us electric.
“Keep looking at me,” I whisper, letting each word pull him in, and he obeys, his gaze locked on mine. I step closer to the couch, letting the heat from my body brush against him, slow and deliberate.
“Couldn’t take my eyes off of you if I tried,” he says, his voice thick with need. His hand twitches toward his cock, but he stops when I tilt my head, eyes sharp.
“Not yet,” I breathe, and he groans deeply. The denial only sharpening the want in him, and the sound sends a flutter through my stomach, delicious and urgent.
I slide my jeans off, one leg at a time, letting them fall in a soft heap. Trent’s eyes track every movement, the faintest quiver of his lips betraying his control.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband of my panties, I slowly peel them down my legs, letting them drop beside the jeans. I step forward, standing completely bare in front of Trent, my skin tingling under the intensity of his gaze.
He swallows hard, voice ragged with need, eyes locked on mine. “Fuck. Me. You’re breathtaking.”
Trent shifts slightly on the couch, his hands clenched with how hard he’s trying to hold back. His eyes roam over me, dark with need, and I feel a thrill run through me at the power I have over him.
“Don’t just stand there,” he rasps, voice rough. “Come closer.”
I smirk, the power he’s given me, the confidence that comes with it taking over, as I step back and lift myself onto my desk.
“I said I want you to watch me,” I tease, letting my voice carry a deliberate command.
I move back enough to plant my feet firmly on the desk, leaning slightly on one elbow as I slowly part my legs, revealing myself.
“I’m so wet right now,” I whisper, my voice trembling with want—and yet, as the words leave me, something steady and bold unfurls inside me. The tremor is still there, but underneath it is a confidence that only Trent makes me feel.
“Jesus… look at you, baby. So fucking perfect,” he groans, the words raw and reverent.
My fingers trail down my body, and the moment they connect with my clit, a moan escapes me. The sound is soft, needy, and entirely mine.
“When I’m all alone,” I confess, voice low and intimate, “this is exactly what I do while thinking about you. I like to tease myself, playing with my clit before sliding my fingers inside.”
Trent’s breath catches, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he leans forward slightly, eyes glued to my movements. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension so thick it makes my own arousal spike even higher.
I let my fingers circle my clit slowly, teasing myself just enough to make him groan, “God… you look so good like that,” he rasps. “I… I can’t…”
I smirk, leaning back a little more, letting my chest rise and fall in time with my teasing. “Can’t what? Can’t handle watching me? Can’t wait to touch me?” I let my hand slide just slightly lower, the tip of my finger brushing my wetness.
His lips part, and a low growl escapes him. “Watching you like this… it’s killing me,” he admits, his voice strained, trembling with need. “I want you… I want you so badly.”
My eyes fall to his cock, hard and thick with pre cum already leaking at the tip. I know he’s barely holding on and honestly that just spurs me on more.
I sink my fingers slowly inside myself, letting a moan slip past my lips. His eyes follow, unblinking, and I feel the surge of power and desire between us, raw and electric.
“I bet your cock is aching,” I breathe, voice trembling, “desperate for your hand while I fuck myself in front of you.”
“It wants your cunt, pretty girl,” he rasps, eyes dark, voice thick with need. “Nothing else will do. I need to feel you squeezing me, it’s the only way to stop the ache I feel.”
“Come here,” I whimper, hooking my fingers upward and fucking myself harder, desperate to come but needing him close.
“I’m so fucking close,” I moan, my body quivering.
“Let me touch you, Bree. Please,” he begs, his hands planted on the desk, caging me in as he watches my fingers move.
“I’m going to make myself come for you, Trent,” I pant, picking up speed.
“Fuck,” he rasps, voice rough as I move faster, the heel of my palm pressed deliciously against my swollen clit. His eyes never leave me, hands now gripping my thighs as they begin to shake.
“Oh fuck… Trent, I’m going to come.”
“Let me fuck you through it,” he growls, voice low and commanding.
I nod once and pull my fingers away just in time for him to slam inside me. My whole body trembles as he pushes me over the edge, each thrust sending waves of fire through me.
“So fucking tight,” he hisses through gritted teeth, driving into me hard and fast.
“Give me another one, baby,” he demands, his hands gripping my hips, controlling the rhythm as we both ride the edge of heat and need.
“I can’t—” I whimper, breath ragged, body trembling.
“You can,” he growls, voice thick with need. “You’ve done so good, baby. Taking control, making me desperate for this perfect cunt… now let me take it from here. Let me give you more.”
Trent’s thumb begins circling my clit, and I feel the familiar, burning build of another orgasm—maybe it’s the same one, reigniting, hotter and sharper this time.
“Oh God… don’t stop. Please, don’t fucking stop,” I beg, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Wouldn’t even dream of it, pretty girl,” he rasps, hips pressing harder into me. “Now let go for me so I can fuck you full of my cum.”
“I’m coming… fuck, I’m coming!” My orgasm rips through me so intensely that I hold my breath, every nerve alight, body arching, trembling under him. He thrusts three more deep strokes before collapsing on top of me.
“Breathe for me, baby,” he murmurs against my ear, as he gently presses his lips to my shoulder. I gasp and release the breath I’d been holding, shivering into him as he cups my face, brushing my hair away.
He nuzzles me, slow and tender. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands glide over my body, soothing, steadying, tracing every curve as we recover together, the raw heat between us fading into a soft, intimate glow.
“Thank you,” I whisper, voice still shaky, fingers brushing lightly over his chest.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs, the desire in his voice still palpable. “So fucking perfect. You did so good, baby.”
***
The bell over the shop door jingles, loud and unexpected, pulling me out of the fog of memory.
I sag forward, elbows braced on the desk, head buried in my hands. I breathe slowly, deeply, trying to exhale the memories of Trent away — even knowing it won’t work.
Because even now — after everything he did, after how deeply he hurt me — I can’t stop drifting back to him. Before the accident the thoughts came and went, gentle echoes I could ignore. Now they’re constant, pressing into every quiet moment until I can’t breathe without feeling him there.