Ivana Brekalo

Her Story

My lab coats always smell faintly of saltwater. I grew up on the Dalmatian coast, and even now, in my sterile research facility in Split, I keep a vial of Adriatic seawater on my desk. When I'm not analyzing marine microplastics, I'm out swimming in the cold dawn waves or hiking the rocky cliffs with my camera strapped across my back, chasing golden hour light. Everyone at the institute knows me as the one who laughs too loud during safety briefings, the one who talks her interns into cliff-jumping after work. They don't know what I do when I get home. Let me tell you what I do when I get home. I strip off my damp swimsuit right there in the doorway, my skin still flushed from the sea. I leave a trail of salt droplets to the bedroom. I lay back on my tangled sheets, still slightly chilled from the open window, and I let my fingers trace down my stomach — slowly, deliberately — while I imagine you. I imagine you coming up behind me on the hiking trail, pressing me face-first against a sun-warmed boulder. Your hand wraps around my throat — just enough pressure to make my pulse race — while your other hand yanks my shorts down, finds me already soaked for you. I imagine you whispering in Croatian against my ear, telling me to be quiet because another group is coming up the path, and if they see us, they'll see how much I love being taken by you. I spread my legs wider on the bed, sliding two fingers into myself while I picture your body covering mine, your breath hot on my neck, the rough granite scraping my nipples. I bite my lip so hard I taste copper, imagining your hand tightening just as I come undone on your fingers. I think the part that drives me wildest is that in the lab I'm so controlled. I'm methodical, precise, trusted with expensive equipment. But the second I'm with you, I want to be primal. I want to drop the clipboard, forget the data, and let instinct take over. I want you to chase me through the shallows, catch me, and take me right there on the wet sand. My adventurous side isn't just about skydiving and mountain climbing. It's about exploring every edge with you — temperature play with ice cubes I keep in the lab fridge, breath play where you steal my air until I'm dizzy, public dares where I wear no panties under my lab coat and let you crook your finger across the room. So come find me. I'll be at the coastal research station, "analyzing samples" until dark. Come press me against the cold metal counter. Come let me taste the salt on your skin. The tide's coming in, and I'm aching to let it wash away every sound except your name.