Short Stories: Sexual Tension in the Briefing Room [Selena Version]

The story was initially planned to be Selena's POV in Chapter 2, but I've decided to make a change. Instead, it'll be focused on the events that (may) occur between Chapters 2 and 3.

Warning: The story contains sexually suggestive content. If this theme makes you feel uncomfortable, I recommend avoiding reading this story.

"Am I that interesting?" Selena suddenly asks with a hint of amusement in her voice, interrupting your thoughts.

You blink, your focus returning to reality as you realize you've been staring at her for who knows how long.

You are, you almost respond, but out loud you say, "I apologize, I didn't mean to stare."

There's something magnetic about her—something that draws you in, despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, and it's both attractive and unsettling.

As if reading your thoughts, Selena smirks. "You staring at me is the least of my problems right now," she says, casually brushing aside long strands of her wavy hair from her shoulder. "Though I won't deny it, I'd prefer it to all the others, even on a good day."

The heat rushes through your body as her eyes lock onto yours, making it hard for you to look away.

The intensity of her gaze pulls you in, but you try to ignore the meaning behind her words, attempting to focus on why it was so urgent for her to come here in person.

Selena called you this morning, and you didn't expect her call so soon—just a few days after meeting her. Not to mention, you didn't expect she'd be the one to call first.

Considering how busy you've been the past few days because of the CID, you haven't had time to go through all the documents she provided, and yet... something about all this disturbs you.

"I just don't see the urgency here," you finally say, closing the folder and tapping it with your fingers. "And since I haven't reviewed all the earlier information, I don't understand why you wanted me… here."

You both sit almost opposite each other in the very corner of the long briefing room table, your knees almost touching, but you don't let that thought distract you, returning your gaze to hers.

Selena's smirk widens as she leans a little closer, and you instantly catch the scent of her perfume.

"I needed you..." she says slowly, holding your gaze with burning intensity, but you refuse to look away as she adds, "...for an outside perspective."

You raise an eyebrow, and she chuckles heartily, leaning back in her chair. "Don't make that face, Detective. You're so easy to tease, I just can't resist," she says, and a rare, genuine smile replaces her usual one that never reaches her eyes.

"So that's why I'm here? Because you want to tease me?" you ask calmly, and her smile turns almost predatory.

"Who knows... Maybe I want much more than that," she murmurs, the smirk fading from her lips.

"Let me guess: you won't tell me exactly what," you say, feeling a pleasant tension building between you. And from the glint in her captivating black eyes, it's evident you are not the only one who can feel it.

"Why would I? I'd rather show you, but..." Selena tilts her head, leaning in slightly closer. "Too bad there are cameras here. However..."

You make an effort to maintain your composure despite all your nerves tingling as her hand reaches towards the edge of your chair, her fingertips lightly brushing against your knee. Even through the fabric of your pants, the warmth of her touch sends a shiver down your spine.

"Maybe I can give you a taste…" she says as her gaze absorbs your every move, every breath, and the dangerous glint in her eyes suggests she wants you to reveal just how much her touch affects you.

But you refuse to give it to her—the reaction she's trying to get from you, silently challenging her as you hold your gaze, aware of where this could lead.

Because she's not the only one who can play these games.

The tension between you becomes almost unbearable, every passing moment of silence fills you with anticipation, and the corners of your lips twitch upward when you notice a hint of raw confidence in her gaze as she finally places her hand on your knee.

Your heart skips a heavy beat, yet you refuse to show how much just a single touch from her affects you.

Instead, you part your lips to speak, but your words catch in your throat as her hand starts to stroke agonizingly slowly upwards. You lower your gaze, tracing the movement, as if the sensation alone isn't enough.

"What do you say, Detective..." Her whisper reaches your ears, and you raise your eyes to meet hers—dangerous, thrilling, and intoxicating.

"...I have nothing to say to you," you reply, keeping your tone deliberately slow and watching how your composed answer affects her.

But the moment you feel the gentle pressure of her thumb on the inside of your thigh, you instantly freeze, biting your lower lip to suppress a contented sigh that longs to escape.

Your reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Selena's smile returns as she leans in closer.

"That's right. You don't need to speak for this," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You meet her gaze, feeling the urge to reach out to her, sensing her hand moving higher and—

The sound of her name almost slips from your lips in disappointment when she suddenly withdraws her hand, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

"No need to look so upset," she says gently, taking the folder from you, her hand brushing against yours.

The fleeting sensation of her skin against yours only makes you want more, but you swallow hard as she fully pulls away. "We'll have time for everything… later."

The heat of her touch lingers, igniting all your senses within. The way she looks at you, the way she speaks—everything about her draws you in, despite your best effort to maintain your composure.

"You're quite confident if you assume I want that," you remark, though the hoarse tone of your voice doesn't escape her notice.

She simply smiles, rising from her seat, and you follow suit. "Not a bad quality, I must say. I bet you even enjoy it."

"You just proved my point," you reply, and her smirk widens, but she offers you nothing more.

You hold each other's gaze in silence, the tension between you growing thicker, almost suffocating. When it becomes almost too much to handle, she takes a step back, and part of you instantly protests against it, but you force yourself to remain still.

"Unfortunately, it's time for me to leave, Detective," Selena says, offering her hand to you.

You shake it, but she holds on for a moment longer, and you find yourself doing the same, unwilling to let go just yet.

"I hope you'll contact me so we can work in a more... enjoyable setting," she says, finally letting go of your hand.

As you watch her leave, you feel the warmth of her touch lingering, leaving a faint but unmistakable imprint that you know will draw your thoughts back to that moment, leaving you craving more.

.

.

.

On the way out of the department…

Leaving the central police department, Selena finds it hard to keep up a smile. The whole town and the reason for her presence there—everything is so… exhausting.

Everything except the detective.

She hums softly, pulling a lollipop from her trench coat pocket, unwrapping it, and popping it into her mouth.

Sweet.

Tucking the wrapper into another pocket, she strolls into a nearby park, choosing the longer route back to the hotel where she's staying, trying to figure out what's bothering her so much.

She was supposed to be the one leaving a lasting impression. And yet...

Suddenly, she halts, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth and examining it closely, as if it might give her the answers she was hoping for.

Sweet. However…

Her mind replays the earlier moment with the detective—the flutter of their eyelashes, their voice, their reaction to her touch...

She pops the lollipop back into her mouth, but now it feels tasteless compared to the memory that replays the sensation of the detective's skin against her, over and over again.

Is that what sweetness truly is? If so, then the question arises: what would the real thing taste like?

A genuine smile graces her face. She's certain the detective will call. And who knows... Maybe the detective will even accept an invitation to her room.

For work, naturally. But Selena knows dessert is always served last.

And she can't wait to taste it.