Billie’s lips parted, but nothing came. Still, her eyes gave her away. Conflicted, and entirely human. “Thank you for shopping with us, Ms Allen. I’ll have my assistant contact you next week.”
You’re losing it.
Billie sat behind her desk, the quiet pressing down on her like a lead weight. Debra’s scent remained all around her, the hint of pain in her voice unbearable if Billie allowed her mind to wander. It had only been twenty minutes since Debra had walked out of the place, but it felt like hours.
This…wasn’t ideal. She couldn’t handle it.
She should have felt relieved. Her boundaries had been re-established, and her routine was restored. That was what she wassupposedto want. The calm order she’d built her life around and the clear rules.Safety. Instead, she just felt restless.
She tapped her pen against the desk and sighed. Every line on the supplier invoice blurred into one another, and every number dissolved into nothing. All she could see was Debra and the way she’d looked at Billie. Direct and unflinching, hurt but still somehow composed…the way she’d said, ‘It was me, wasn’t it?’ as though she already knew the answer.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Women came and went, they always did, butnoneof them had left her like this. None of them had left Billie feeling overly aware of herself in a way that feltdangerouslyalive.
She leaned back in her chair and exhaled a deep breath. She’d spent years training her body to respond to pressure. Make a list and solve a problem, then regain control. So why did every breath she took feel shallow? Why was every thought too loud?
Her mind slipped back to the fitting room. Debra in that charcoal suit, the fabric moulded to her shape, her shoulders pulled back as she remembered her own worth. Billie had wanted to say something then, something real and something genuine, but she’d bitten her tongue and watched on instead.
She’d promised herself this morning that she wouldn’t care, that this was no different from any other time in the fitting room, but Debra Allen wasn’t a woman you forgot…and she certainly wasn’t a woman you didn’t care about.
Billie stood abruptly and pushed away from the desk. Her office felt almost suffocating this afternoon.Oh, you know what this is. This wasn’t about feeling suffocated; this was about the undeniable urge to fuck herself while she thought about Debra. Since last week, she’d replayed those soft moans in her mind, and since last week, she’d avoided doing something about it. Billie was punishing herself for feeling a shred ofanythingfor Debra Allen.
Her mind betrayed her again, flooding with images of Debra. Those soft curves as she draped herself over the couch in the fitting room, the way her lips had parted as she’d rode Billie’s face. God, she wanted to pin Debra down, to command her to spread those thighs and beg for Billie’s fingers deep in her pussy.
But Debra was off-limits. She was a line Billie couldn’t cross without shattering everything.
An ache rose and throbbed between her legs, Billie’s clit pulsing with need, demanding she slip a hand down her pants and rub herself raw until she broke. Her hand inched towards her inner thigh, but she clenched it, her nails digging into her palm until the ache subsided.
No.
Shecontrolled desires, not the other way around. This forbidden hunger was her sin, and she’d starve it out. She’d deny the slick heat building, let the frustration coil tighter, and punish her body fordaringto crave what it couldn’t have.
She crossed the room and looked out of the window, one hand braced against the frame. She watched the rain streak down the glass, her vision blurring as people rushed about their business down on the street.
Control. Sheneededcontrol.
When she turned back to her desk, she caught her reflection in the mirror on the far wall. Suit, posture, mask. She didn’t look like a woman undone by the memory of Debra, but the ache behind her ribs…and between her thighs, said otherwise.
She pressed 1 on the handset on her desk. “Nina?”
A soft crackle. “Yes, Miss Brown?”
“Come in here for a moment.”
Nina paused, then quickly said, “Right away.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Billie slowly sat back down, almost whimpering at the brief friction between her legs. “Fuck.” She had to relieve the pressure, and then she had to forget Debra Allen hadeverexisted in her world. “Just…get back to normal. You have Nina. That’s enough.”
Nina entered, tablet in hand, her dark hair tied back neatly. “You wanted to see me?”
“I did.” Billie watched her from across the room. “How’s the order list for next week?”
“R-right, um…” Nina blinked repeatedly, clearly caught off guard by the basic question. “Up to date. I was just about to email the suppliers.”
“Good.” Billie gestured for her to come closer. “Show me.”
Nina rounded the desk and leaned in, scrolling through the screen.Thiswas the dynamic Billie knew. It was the dynamic she’d created.
“Tell me,” Billie said. “Do you ever get the sense that people expect too much of you?”
