Blackmail After Breakup

Man, I can’t believe I’m even considering this. Sitting here at my desk, staring at the same damn spreadsheet I’ve been ignoring for hours, all I can think about is her. Jenna. That fiery little spitball of a woman who tore through my life like a wrecking ball and left me in pieces when she walked out three months ago. I’m not proud of what I’m about to do, but screw it—desperation’s got me by the throat. I’ve got those pictures, the ones she sent me late at night when we were still drunk on each other. They’re not just sexy, they’re straight-up scandalous. Stuff she wouldn’t want anyone to see, especially not her stuck-up boss or her judgmental friends. And yeah, I’m an asshole for even thinking about using them, but I need to see her again. Just one more time. I’ve tried everything else—calls, texts, showing up at her favorite coffee spot like a creep. Nothing. She’s shut me out cold. So here I am, typing out this message, my fingers shaking a little as I hit send: “Meet me at the office after hours. 8 PM. Or those pics go viral. Your choice.”

I lean back in my chair, heart pounding like I just ran a mile. What the hell am I doing? This isn’t me. I’m not the guy who blackmails his ex. But the thought of her showing up, of getting one last shot to feel her, to smell that coconut shampoo she always used—it’s got me all twisted up. I check the clock. It’s only 3 PM. Five hours to stew in my own stupidity. I try to focus on work, but my mind’s a mess. What if she calls my bluff? What if she shows up just to slap me across the face? Hell, I’d probably deserve it. But deep down, I’m hoping she remembers the good stuff. The way we’d laugh until we couldn’t breathe, the way she’d curl into me after, all soft and warm. I miss that. I miss her.

By 7:30, I’m pacing around the empty office. The place is dead quiet, just the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of the building settling. I’ve got the blinds half-drawn, the dim light from the hallway spilling in. My palms are sweaty, and I keep wiping them on my jeans like that’s gonna help. I’ve got no plan here, just a vague idea of talking, maybe begging, probably making a fool of myself. Then I hear it—the click of heels on the tiled floor. My stomach flips. I turn toward the door, and there she is. Jenna. Standing there in a tight black skirt and a blouse that’s just sheer enough to make me remember every inch of what’s underneath. Her arms are crossed, and her hazel eyes are shooting daggers at me.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that, Nate?” Her voice is sharp, cutting right through the silence. “Blackmail? Seriously? That’s low, even for you.”

I hold up my hands, trying to look less like the villain I feel like. “I wasn’t gonna do it, Jen. I swear. I just… I needed to see you. You wouldn’t talk to me any other way.”

She snorts, stepping into the room, her heels clicking with every angry step. “So you thought threatening me was the move? God, you’re pathetic.” She stops a few feet away, close enough that I can smell that damn coconut scent. It hits me like a punch, dragging up memories of tangled sheets and her whispering my name.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, and I mean it. “I’m a mess without you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Her eyes narrow, but there’s something else there too. A flicker of something softer, maybe curiosity. Or maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. “You think this is gonna fix anything?” she asks, her voice dropping a little, almost taunting. “What do you even want, Nate? A pity screw? Some big dramatic reunion?”

I laugh despite myself, a short, rough sound. “Hell, I don’t know. I just… I miss you. I miss us. The way we’d mess around, laugh about stupid stuff. Remember that time we got stuck in the elevator after hours? We were cracking up so hard we forgot to be scared.”

Her lips twitch, just for a second, like she’s fighting a smile. “Yeah, and you spilled coffee all over your shirt trying to act cool. Looked like a drowned rat.”

I grin, stepping closer without really meaning to. “And you still kissed me anyway. Said I smelled like caffeine and bad decisions.”

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t move back. “You’re such an idiot.” Her voice is softer now, less venom in it. We’re standing too close, the air between us thick with stuff we’re not saying. I can see the faint flush on her cheeks, the way her chest rises a little quicker. It’s not just anger. I know her too well for that.

“Jen,” I say, my voice low, rough around the edges. “Tell me you don’t miss it too. Just a little.”

She looks away for a second, her jaw tight. When she meets my eyes again, there’s a challenge there. “Maybe I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall back into your mess. You don’t get to play dirty and just expect me to melt.”

I nod, taking the hit. “Fair. But can we at least talk? For real? No threats, no games. Just… us.”

She studies me for a long moment, then sighs, uncrossing her arms. “Fine. But only because I don’t trust you to delete those pictures unless I’m here to watch you do it. Let’s get this over with.”

We end up sitting on the edge of my desk, side by side, closer than we probably should be. I pull out my phone, show her the folder, and delete every single photo while she watches. Her shoulder brushes mine as she leans in to make sure I’m not faking it. I catch the way her breath catches, just for a split second, when our arms touch. It’s small, but it’s enough to make my pulse kick up.

“Done,” I say, setting the phone down. “They’re gone. I’m sorry I even thought about using them. That was messed up.”

She nods, but she doesn’t move away. “Yeah, it was. But… I’m here now. So talk. What do you really want, Nate?”

I turn to look at her, our faces way too close. My mouth goes dry. “I want you. Not just for a night. But I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. Even if it’s just this—sitting here, shooting the shit like old times.”

Her eyes flicker down to my mouth, then back up. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and charged, and then she laughs softly. “You’re still such a sap. You know that?”

I grin, leaning in just a fraction. “Takes one to know one. You’re not exactly running for the door, Jen.”

She smirks, tilting her head like she’s daring me. “Maybe I’m just waiting to see how bad you’re gonna beg.”

That’s all it takes. The tension that’s been simmering since she walked in snaps like a rubber band. I don’t think—I just move, closing the gap and kissing her hard. She freezes for half a second, then she’s kissing me back, her hands fisting in my shirt like she’s just as hungry for this as I am. Her mouth is hot, tasting like mint and something sweet I can’t place, and it’s like coming home after being lost for months. I groan into the kiss, my hands sliding to her hips, pulling her closer until she’s half in my lap on the desk.

“Goddamn, I missed this,” I mutter against her lips, my voice rough. She laughs, a breathy little sound that sends heat straight through me.

“Shut up and kiss me, dumbass,” she shoots back, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me hiss. We’re a mess of hands and mouths, fumbling like teenagers who don’t know what they’re doing, but it feels so damn good I don’t care. My hands slide under her blouse, finding warm skin, the curve of her waist. She arches into me, her breath hitching in a way that tells me she’s just as gone as I am.

We pull back for air, both of us panting, foreheads pressed together. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she warns, but her voice is shaky, her eyes dark with want. “Don’t get any ideas.”

I smirk, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But let’s see how long you keep saying that.”

She shoves at my chest, playful, but then she’s pulling me back in, kissing me deeper, slower, like she’s savoring it. My hands roam, pushing her skirt up her thighs, feeling the heat of her through the thin fabric of her panties. She gasps into my mouth when my fingers brush against her, and I can’t help the smug little chuckle that slips out.

“Still so sensitive,” I tease, pressing a little harder, feeling the dampness there. “Bet you’ve been thinking about this too.”

“Keep talking and I’ll walk out right now,” she snaps, but her hips rock into my hand, giving her away. I laugh, kissing down her neck, nipping at the spot just below her ear that always made her squirm. She doesn’t disappoint—her head tips back, a soft little sound escaping her that’s better than any fantasy I’ve had these past months.

We keep at it, teasing, touching, building each other up until we’re both desperate. I lift her onto the desk fully, spreading her thighs as I step between them. Her skirt’s bunched up around her hips now, her panties pushed to the side, and I’m losing my mind at how ready she is, how she’s looking at me like she wants to eat me alive. I fumble with my belt, cursing under my breath when it sticks, and she laughs outright, the sound bright and sharp in the quiet room.

“Need help with that, big guy?” she taunts, reaching down to yank at the buckle herself. Her fingers brush against me through my jeans, and I swear I almost lose it right there.

“Keep laughing and I’ll make you pay for it,” I growl, finally getting the damn thing undone. She just grins, pulling me closer by my shirt, her legs wrapping around my waist.

“Promises, promises,” she murmurs, and then we’re done talking. I push into her slow, watching her face, the way her eyes flutter shut and her mouth falls open on a quiet moan. She’s hot and tight and perfect, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from moving too fast. I want this to last. I want to feel every damn second of her.

We find a rhythm, slow at first, then faster, the desk creaking under us as papers and pens scatter to the floor. I don’t care. Neither does she. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps against my ear. I can feel her getting closer, the way she tenses, the little sounds she’s making driving me up the wall. I slide a hand between us, finding that spot that always pushed her over the edge, rubbing in tight circles until she’s trembling.

“God, Nate, I’m—” She doesn’t finish, just cries out, her whole body shaking as she comes apart. And then I feel it—hot and wet, soaking through my jeans, dripping onto the desk beneath us. She’s squirting, just like she used to when we really got going, and the sight of it, the feel of it, is enough to send me spiraling. I thrust harder, chasing my own release, groaning her name as I finish, buried deep, my head spinning with how good it feels.

We stay like that for a minute, catching our breath, her legs still wrapped around me, my hands braced on the desk. Then she laughs, soft and a little dazed, pushing at my chest. “Okay, get off me, caveman. You’re heavy.”

I grin, pulling back, helping her fix her skirt as I tuck myself back into my jeans. There’s a wet spot on the desk, another on my pants, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Damn, Jen. You always did know how to make a mess.”

She swats at me, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Shut up. You loved it.”

“Hell yeah, I did.” I lean in, stealing one more kiss, quick and light. She lets me, but then she’s sliding off the desk, smoothing her hair, putting distance between us.

“Look, this was… fun,” she says, her voice careful now, like she’s choosing her words. “But don’t read into it, okay? I’m not coming back. Not like that.”

I nod, even though it stings. “Yeah, I get it. Just… thanks for showing up. For giving me this.”

She looks at me for a long moment, then grabs her purse from where she’d dropped it by the door. “Take care of yourself, Nate. And don’t pull any more stupid stunts, yeah?”

I laugh, watching as she heads for the door. “No promises.”

She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips, and then she’s gone, stepping out into the hallway. The door swings shut behind her with a quiet click, and I’m left standing there, the office silent again, the air still smelling faintly of coconut and sex. I sink into my chair, running a hand through my hair, knowing I’ll be replaying this night for a long damn time.