My Ex Begged Me Back with Bedroom Tricks

I told myself I was over her, that stepping into that cramped sauna with Elise was just a casual reunion, a quick catch-up with an old flame at a mutual friend’s lake house. Truth is, I knew the second I saw her name on the guest list that I’d find a way to be near her again. My heart hadn’t let go, even after the messy breakup six months ago, the shouting matches over stupid things like who forgot to call first. Now, here we were, squeezed into this tiny cedar box of a room, the heat already making my skin prickle, the air thick with steam and the scent of damp wood. A bunch of us had been playing silly party games in the living room, and somehow, seven minutes in heaven came up—ironic, childish, but no one backed out when the bottle spun to pair me with Elise. The others shoved us in here, laughing, locking the door behind us with a dramatic click.

We sat on opposite ends of the narrow bench at first, the space so tight our knees nearly brushed anyway. She wore a thin tank top and shorts, her hair damp from an earlier swim in the lake, clinging to her neck in dark strands. I kept my eyes on the floor, pretending to study the grain of the wood, my own towel wrapped loose around my waist over swim trunks. The silence was heavier than the humidity, broken only by the faint hiss of the sauna’s heater.

“Seven minutes, huh?” she said finally, her voice low, a little rough like she’d been laughing too hard earlier. “Feels longer already.”

I grunted, not trusting myself to say much. “Yeah. Stupid game.” My hands rested on my thighs, fingers digging in just to keep them still. I didn’t want her to see how much her presence rattled me, how the memory of her skin under my palms still haunted my nights. But then she shifted, stretching her legs out, and her bare foot grazed mine. It was nothing, a fleeting brush of toes against ankle, but my breath caught anyway. I didn’t move. Neither did she.

The heat seemed to press us closer, the air so dense it felt like a hand pushing at my back. She adjusted again, this time scooting a fraction nearer to fan herself with one hand, her other resting on the bench between us. Her fingers brushed the edge of my towel, accidental, or so I told myself. I glanced at her then, and her eyes met mine—sharp, knowing, a flicker of something that wasn’t just nostalgia. My pulse thudded hard in my throat.

“You still mad at me?” she asked, softer now, her hand still lingering near my hip, not quite touching but close enough I could feel the warmth off her skin.

I swallowed, my mouth dry despite the damp air. “Shouldn’t I be? You walked out.” But my voice lacked the edge I wanted. It came out raw, almost pleading. Her fingers twitched, brushing the fabric of the towel now, a slow drag of knuckles that could’ve been a mistake. My thigh tensed under the contact, but I didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t walk out to hurt you,” she murmured, leaning in just enough that her shoulder nudged mine. Her skin was slick with sweat, warm against me, and the contact sent a jolt through my nerves, sharp and sudden. “I just… needed space. But I missed you. Every damn day.”

My jaw tightened. I wanted to argue, to push her words away, but her hand slid higher, resting fully on my thigh now, her palm pressing through the towel. It wasn’t accidental anymore. My breath came shallower, the heat of the sauna mixing with the burn under my skin. I turned my head, meeting her gaze again, and her lips parted just slightly, her eyes searching mine for permission—or maybe defiance. I didn’t know which I’d give.

“Elise,” I started, my voice a low rasp, but she cut me off by shifting closer, her thigh pressing against mine now, her hand sliding inward, slow, deliberate. My resolve cracked like thin ice, the memory of her touch flooding back—how she’d always known exactly how to unravel me. I grabbed her wrist, not to stop her but to hold her there, my grip firm but not hard. Her pulse hammered under my thumb.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too,” she whispered, her breath hot against my cheek, her other hand coming up to rest on my chest, fingers splaying over the damp skin. My heart slammed against her palm. I should’ve pushed her away, should’ve stood up and banged on the door for someone to let us out. Instead, I let go of her wrist, my hand dropping to her knee, mirroring her touch. Her skin was smooth, slick with sweat, and my fingers tightened instinctively, sliding up an inch.

Her sharp intake of air was loud in the quiet, and she tilted her head, her mouth brushing the edge of my jaw. Not a kiss, not yet, just a graze of lips that made my blood roar. “Tell me to stop,” she said, but her tone dared me to do the opposite, her hand creeping higher on my thigh, pushing the towel aside until her fingers found the edge of my swim trunks. My grip on her knee tightened, my thumb tracing small circles on her inner thigh, higher now, close to the hem of her shorts.

“I should,” I muttered, but my body wasn’t listening. My hand slid up further, brushing the fabric aside, feeling the heat of her through the thin barrier. She let out a small sound, a quiet hum that vibrated against my skin, and her fingers dipped under the waistband of my trunks, teasing the sensitive skin just below my navel. My hips jerked before I could stop them, and I felt her smile against my jaw.

“Still so easy to tease,” she purred, her voice dripping with that old confidence that always got under my skin. Her hand moved lower, wrapping around me through the fabric, a slow, deliberate squeeze that made my vision blur for a second. I groaned, low and rough, my head tipping back against the wall. My own hand pushed her shorts aside now, fingers finding the damp heat between her thighs, stroking over the thin cotton of her underwear. She squirmed, pressing closer, her breath ragged against my neck.

“Fuck, Elise,” I hissed, my thumb circling her through the fabric, feeling her tremble under my touch. “You’re gonna kill me.” My other hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her face to mine, and then we were kissing—hard, messy, all teeth and tongue, like we’d been starving for it. She tasted like salt and memory, her lips soft but demanding, and her hand tightened around me, stroking now, slow and firm, making my toes curl against the wooden floor.

I yanked at her tank top, shoving it up to her ribs, my palm sliding over the slick curve of her waist, up to cup her breast. Her nipple hardened under my thumb, and she moaned into my mouth, arching into the touch. Her shorts were in the way now, and I didn’t care about subtlety anymore—my fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging them down along with her underwear, just enough to bare her to me. She gasped, pulling back to look at me, her eyes dark and glassy, but she didn’t stop me. Instead, she kicked the fabric the rest of the way off, leaving her half-naked, glistening with sweat and need.

“You’re a bastard for making me want this again,” she breathed, but there was no venom in it, just raw hunger as she tugged my trunks down, freeing me completely. Her hand wrapped around me, bare now, her grip tight and sure, stroking with a rhythm that made my head spin. I bit out a curse, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her onto my lap. She straddled me, her thighs bracketing mine, the heat of her so close I could feel it without even touching. My fingers dug into her skin, holding her there, not pushing yet, but fuck, I wanted to.

“Say it,” I growled against her throat, nipping at the damp skin, tasting the salt of her. “Say you want me inside you.” My voice was rough, desperate, and I didn’t care. I needed to hear it, needed her to admit she was as far gone as I was.

She hesitated, just for a heartbeat, her nails digging into my shoulders. Then she leaned down, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a low, filthy whisper. “I want you to fuck me, right here, right now. I’ve wanted it since I saw you walk in tonight.” Her words hit me like a punch, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I lifted her just enough, guiding myself to her entrance, feeling the slick heat of her against me. She sank down slowly, inch by inch, a tight, perfect fit that made us both shudder. Her head fell back, a raw sound escaping her throat, and I gripped her hips harder, fighting the urge to thrust up too fast.

“Goddamn,” I muttered, my voice strained, as she started to move, rolling her hips in a slow grind that made my nerves light up. “You feel too fucking good.” Sweat dripped down my spine, the heat of the sauna blurring with the heat of her body, and I slid a hand between us, finding that sensitive spot, rubbing in tight circles until she was gasping, her movements jerky.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice sharp, her hands braced on my chest as she rode me, faster now, the sound of skin against skin loud in the small space. I obliged, thrusting up to meet her, my other hand sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her down onto me with every stroke. She was loud now, not caring who might hear through the thin walls, her moans sharp and desperate, and I loved every fucking sound. I leaned forward, sucking a mark into the base of her throat, feeling her clench around me in response.

“Gonna make you scream for me,” I rasped, my thumb working faster between her thighs, my hips snapping up harder. Her nails raked down my back, sharp enough to sting, and I hissed, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that pushed me closer to the edge. She was close too—I could feel it in the way she tightened, the way her breaths came in short, frantic pants.

But then, just as her body started to tremble, just as I felt that tight, inevitable build in my own gut, a sharp bang echoed through the room. The door rattled, followed by a muffled shout from outside. “Time’s up, lovebirds! Get out before you melt in there!”

Elise froze above me, her chest heaving, her eyes wide as they locked with mine. My hands stilled on her hips, my body screaming in protest at the interruption. We were both slick, flushed, teetering on the brink, and the voices outside grew louder, laughing, teasing. I didn’t move, didn’t want to, but the moment hung there, unfinished, the air between us crackling with what we hadn’t said, hadn’t done.

She licked her lips, her gaze darting to the door, then back to me, a question in her eyes I didn’t know how to answer.