Secretly Mine

Christian’s scent hit me the moment I stepped inside—sharp, intoxicating, unmistakable.

It was everywhere.

The air was saturated with it, clinging to the walls, curling around my lungs like an invisible snake. His cologne, warm and musky with that underlying cedar note, mixed with the faintest trace of cigarettes. He must’ve just stepped out for a smoke.

It was unbearable.

My thighs instinctively pressed together, a helpless reaction to the way my body responded to him—to the memory of his skin, the heat of his mouth, the weight of his body pressed against mine. I swallowed hard, but my throat was already tight, parched with want.

Why? Why today of all days?

As if this week hadn’t been torment enough—every step I took felt like friction, every breath a battle against the ache burning inside me. And now this? Being surrounded by the scent of him was like tossing gasoline into an open flame.

It wasn’t fair.

This heat, this hunger...it wasn’t just need. It was desperation. A maddening, all-consuming craving that pulsed under my skin, as if my veins had turned to molten wax.

The elevator finally opened, releasing me from the intoxicating scent.

I kept my head down as I made my way to the break room, heels clicking a little too loudly in the nearly empty hallway. My breath still hadn’t fully returned to normal. I was flushed and twitchy, and it felt like everyone I passed could smell what I was going through.

All I needed was something cold. Just one iced drink—tea, coffee, ice water, I didn’t care. Anything to cool this furnace raging inside me.