Bill had left early that morning, hair still damp from his shower and tied back with that leather cord you loved tugging on. He’d kissed you at the door, soft, slow, and entirely too short, before stepping out into the sea-salt wind with a promise to be home for dinner.

You’d tried to be productive after he left. Truly. But Shell Cottage had that quiet late-morning glow, sunlight spilling across the bedroom in warm strips, the sheets still smelling like him… and by the time you were halfway through making the bed, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror.

And that’s when the idea hit you.

You caught your own reflection. Hair tousled, nothing on except the tiniest scrap of fabric that definitely couldn’t be called a real outfit. You shifted your hips, angled the mirror just right, and raised your phone.

The picture came out dangerously good

Exactly the sort of thing that would make Bill’s self-control snap in half.

You didn’t give yourself time to overthink it. Send.

Your phone buzzed almost immediately.

You’ve got some nerve. I’m at work, you know.

You grinned, sitting down on the bed as you typed.

Just keeping you on your toes.

You imagined him straightening up where he stood, shoulders going tight as he suddenly became very aware that his colleagues were only a few steps away while his girlfriend was sending him pictures that definitely shouldn’t be opened in public.

On my toes? Love, you’ve got me fidgeting in front of my colleagues. This is highly unprofessional.

You let out a soft laugh, sinking onto the bed.

Oh, he was flustered. Perfect.

Maybe that’s the point. 😉

The typing dots flickered. Stopped. Started again. He was debating how much to let you know you’d gotten to him.

Dangerous. Absolutely dangerous and very tempting.

You let your fingers hover before sending your next message, savoring the power you suddenly held.

Good. I like a challenge.

You could almost feel the moment he exhaled sharply, giving up on pretending he was unaffected. The image you sent had clearly done its job.

Challenge accepted. But I’ll be dealing with this properly when I get home.

You released a slow breath, settling back against the pillows, warmth pooling through your chest.

Bill didn’t threaten.

He promised.

And now you had the rest of the day to wonder exactly what “properly” meant.