Seven Guilty Pleasures

by Jeannette Winters

  Isa wasn’t sure how to describe her feelings. All she knew was he unlocked something within her she hadn’t known existed. She could bear losing her apartment, her job, but not him, which honestly surprised her. In such a short amount of time, even though her first impression of him had been unfavorable, he’d become very important to her and she really wanted to see him today.

  Just because he gave me the day off, doesn’t mean he took it.

  While packing Isa picked up her phone several times, hoping to see a missed call or text message from Drake. He’d told her when they said goodbye last night they’d talk today. Was it wrong she’d hoped it was first thing? She wouldn’t have minded him waking her up before dawn. I just . . . miss you.

  Isa wasn’t about to tell him that. Since he hadn’t reached out, he mustn’t feel the same. That might be for the best.

  If they cut it off now instead of later, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

  Who was she fooling? They’d yet to discuss exactly how Drake knew so much about her, about Ziva being her sister, but she could wait on those answers. He’d brought them together. For that, she’d be forever thankful. Although, it should hurt that he obviously knew more than he had said. But, instead of seeming smug over their reunion, Drake had seemed . . . in awe. He’d looked at me with respect. Does that mean he knows about what really happened to me? Surely if he knew, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. And there was the problem. Since the first date, she’d come to see a man so worthy of love. Of her respect. He was hard not to like . . . possibly love. So, it was probably already too late to avoid the pain of rejection. At least she’d had time with him. It was more than she’d believed was possible. More than I deserve.

  Although there wasn’t a lot to pack, she needed a break from it. Each item only made the reality of what was about to happen in a few days more depressing. It wasn’t as though this was her first time being homeless, or even the hardest thing she’d been through in her life. It was only an end to another chapter in her life. The problem was she had no idea what the next one would be.

  Lying on her bed, she pulled out a notepad and figured she’d jot a few ideas. It was so much easier to achieve a goal if you actually had one. Tapping the pen on the paper, she tried to picture her short-term goals. Isa already had a long-term goal, and that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. There was only one short-term thing she had to list. Find a place to live.

  Nothing mattered until then. Of course she knew no place would still be open. She shouldn’t have procrastinated, but it was already after five. There might be an emergency phone number, but she still had a few days. That didn’t mean it was critical, but it was getting darn close. Isa was going to set a reminder on her phone for bright and early tomorrow morning. No more time for screwing off.

  Flipping the pad to another blank sheet, she needed to make a list of everything she needed to pack. Looking around the small efficiently apartment, there wasn’t much left to do. Her bedding and toiletries were about all that was left to do except for the closest. I’ll do the closet later.

  Turning the page, she decided she needed to write down some positive things going on in her life. There were plenty of things she had no control over, but her thoughts weren’t any of them. It wasn’t hard to list things that made her smile. She titled the page: My happy thoughts.

  One: chocolate.

  Two: bubble baths.

  Three: She couldn’t believe how hard it was to come up with three things. Closing her eyes, she knew there had to be more than that. Seven had always been her lucky number, and Isa wasn’t putting down the notepad until she had at least that many.

  Three: how he can make me laugh even when I’m feeling blue. Not sure if he’s really that funny or just that darn cute.

  Isa giggled. It definitely belonged on the list. Smirking, she continued.

  Four: Drake’s sweet kisses. Can’t get enough of those.

  Five? Hmm. This is fun.

  Five: the way his blue eyes darken when he holds me. I wonder what he’s thinking. The look both scared and excited her. Was he burning with desire? Could she really have that effect on him? I know he does on me.

  That made the next one easy.

  Six: the way my body warms and tingles when his hand runs up my bare arm. I wonder what would happen if he touched me . . . all over. Her body heated, and she felt a twitch between her legs just thinking about it.

  That left only one thing she could put for the last one.

  Seven: Drake making love to me. She didn’t have a clue what that would feel like, but she knew it would be magical. I wouldn’t want the night to end.

  She wanted to know what it would feel like to be held, touch, kissed so intimately, and to be able to give it back in return. Isa never thought about someone touching her that way without panicking. That’s why she never dated. A man would get close to her or touch her, and she’d flashback to a time that was so macabre it was paralyzing. Her life would’ve been fine if she had never been physical with another person. Or at least that’s how she had felt. Now she was practically drooling over the idea of his lips kissing her neck and the feel of his naked body lying on top of her. The heat in her core was an ache only one person could fix.

  Isa didn’t know how to broach such a subject with Drake. Hi. I’d like to touch you and have you touch me, and I hope it’s as good as I’m dreaming it will be. Oh, I also probably suck in bed because I have no real experience. Yeah, that’s not a great sales pitch.

  There was no question as to why these thoughts were tormenting her. She was falling for him. It was something she’d feared might happen by spending time with him. I should’ve stopped, heck, never started. Now look at me. This is hopeless.

  Although her head knew it was hopeless, that didn’t mean her heart wanted to hear it. She was longing to see him again. They might not have a future together, but was it wrong to enjoy what time they did have? She’d never been a person who’d lived in the moment. Her life always needed to be mapped out. The one major problem with that logic was it never seemed to take the path she’d thought it would. Could she be wrong about Drake as well? Was it possible to have a happy ending with him, or was the most she could hope for be sex that she tolerated? But she had a feeling it would be what she’d only read about. Hot. Passionate. And if his kisses were any hint of what the rest would be like, oh . . . it would be freaking amazing.

  She’d seen enough love stories to know the difference. Her toes practically curled when he kissed her. Anything more and her legs probably wouldn’t have held her.

  Isa looked at the list again. There was only one thing that didn’t have to do with Drake, and that was chocolate. She could picture having a bit of fun with that though. Chocolate dipped strawberries and some whipped cream on a Drake sundae.

  Taking her pen she went back up to the top and crossed out her title replacing it with a new one. My seven guilty pleasures. She knew if she didn’t close the pad she would be elaborating and adding more. But if she lay there thinking of Drake, nothing would get done and she’d be left with an entirely different level of frustration.

  She stood, opened the dreaded closet, and started. Taking down each of her interview suits, she folded and put them in another box. She didn’t require them now, and hopefully wouldn’t for a while. But where was she going to go? If she had to move into a homeless shelter, would it be close enough to make it to and from work?

  She wasn’t going to allow herself to stress over that either. I have no more control over that than I have over Drake.

  * * *

  “I really don’t care what the fuck the landlord said. He either grants her an extension or I’ll make sure that piece of shit he calls a building is written up for every code violation there is,” Drake barked. He ran his own business, but shit, he fucking sounded like Dean Henderson. Damn, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

  “You do know that threatening landlords isn’t a normal job for a human resource ma
nager, right?”

  Shit. I should’ve asked Gabe to do this. “Scott, I didn’t say threaten . . . exactly.” Drake had only meant to ask him to research the landlord. The more he thought about what was going on with Isa, the angrier he became. He actually just wanted to pay her back rent as well as her rent for the year. That might solve her living arrangements as well as put a halt to their relationship. “Just put your HR twist on it like you do everything else. Make sure she doesn’t lose that place. And I also want all of the waitresses to receive a one-time cash bonus.”

  “Mr. Fletcher, I need to stop you there. If you look at one group and not all employees across the board, it will look like . . . well you don’t want to bring unwanted attention to Isa.”

  Scott had a damn good point. “Five hundred dollar cash bonus to every employee. I want it taken care of this Friday.” He didn’t want to do a percentage of one’s salary because that only meant the lowest paid would also get the least amount. That wouldn’t get the needed results.

  “That’s fair. I’ll take care of that as well. Should I ask if there is anything further you need me to do this evening? It is after six and you seem to be in the—”

  Asking a fucking lot mood? Yeah. I am. “No. That’s all. Go home to your wife.”

  Drake ended the call. Just in time too, as the limo was pulling up to Isa’s apartment. He really should’ve called her first. It was why he’d given her a replacement phone. But he knew she would say everything was fine over the phone. He needed to see her face, her beautiful dark eyes, to know for sure. He’d taken a risk last night by bringing Ziva in. From what he’d seen, it appeared to have worked out well.

  He got out of the limo, grabbed the large bouquet of white daisies, and went up all four flights, two steps at a time. Drake wanted to see her more than he’d thought. He almost laughed as he knocked on the door and realized he’d practically run up the stairs. He was in good physical condition so his racing pulse had nothing to do with physical exertion. If he had any doubt what it was, the answer was like a slap in the face when she opened the door.

  “Drake. What are you doing here?”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Drake loved it when she wore her hair down and her curls had a mind of their own. Like Isa. She just doesn’t know it.

  “I meant to come earlier, but I had some business issues to handle first.”

  “It doesn’t matter when, I asked why.” Isa stood at the door, this time with her arms crossed.

  He’d envisioned this going a bit differently. She would open the door, throw her arms around me, and kiss me like she had a few nights ago. Then he remembered the flowers that were down by his side. Holding them up, he said, “These reminded me of you.”

  “White daisies?” Isa asked. Drake nodded. “Do you know what they symbolize?”

  Drake didn’t have a fucking clue; was he supposed to think about it? He’d seen them and they were cheery looking. “No I don’t.” Please don’t be something morbid.

  “Purity and innocence. That’s how you see me?”

  Shaking his head he handed them to her. “No. I see them as bright, happy, and a breath of sunshine.” When she took them from him, he added, “And hopefully enough for you to actually invite me in. Unless you’d like me to stand out here and shout to all the tenants what I think of you.” Isa blushed and looked around as though there actually might be an audience. “Honey, that was a hint to invite me in. There’s no one here.”

  He could see the hesitation, but she finally stepped aside, saying, “Enter at your own risk. It’s not very . . . big.”

  When he went inside he saw boxes piled on top of each other labeled: kitchen, bedroom, closet. Had she given up? There were still a few days. Hell, the bonus will cover it. Of course she didn’t know that.

  And I fucked with her tips this week. Last night, and . . . now tonight. Shit.

  I am a fucking idiot. No wonder she wasn’t happy to see me. Drake felt as though he’d told her to throw in the towel himself by not letting her work. She was proud and working so hard, then he pulled the rug right out from beneath her. Was it too late to fix it without telling her he knew her predicament?

  “Haven’t unpacked yet?”

  Isa replied softly as she put the flowers in a glass of water. “I’m moving.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have helped you. Where are you going?” Drake hadn’t meant to ask the question, and he wasn’t sure if she had an answer. But if Scott pulled the shit off like he asked, she wasn’t going to need to go anywhere.

  “Drake, would you mind if we don’t talk about it. I’m still tired from packing.”

  There were boxes, but it didn’t seem as though there was enough to exhaust her. In her mind, she has nowhere to go, you idiot. No wonder she didn’t want to answer that question. He wasn’t sure if he could fuck up any more. I wish you didn’t believe you were packing for the street. That’s never going to fucking happen. Even if I have to pick you up and carry you to my penthouse.

  “Have you eaten dinner yet? I was thinking that—”

  “I don’t feel like going out tonight.”

  She was not herself, and he needed to do something about that. Then again, he might be the reason she was feeling glum in the first place.

  She still had her back to him, but that didn’t stop him from stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her, his hands clasped on her stomach as he pulled her to lean back against him. Damn it feels so good. Isa didn’t resist at all.

  “We can have it delivered.”

  Isa tensed, shook her head, and said, “Drake, look around you. There isn’t really any place to . . . relax. Maybe when I get a new place we can—”

  “Isa, stop this. You think I care? I’m perfectly happy standing here holding you if that’s all you want.” Her apartment was tiny, and she didn’t have much in it, yet the only spot that was still vacant was her sofa bed. It was so unjust that she had so little when she should have had so much. How did she end up like this? What about the Bowens? Was she left with nothing after they passed? Or was she so stubborn she wouldn’t take it? Gabe had told him the Bowens had no life insurance. Was it possible Isa had helped to pay for their burial? If they were all she had, that would make sense as to why she was left with nothing for herself. Because she’d take care of someone else first.

  Isa turned around, now facing him. “Drake, why the flowers? Why any of this? I mean . . . look around. We’re not exactly a match. You’re a—”

  “Complete asshole, and you’re the most—”

  “Pathetic person you ever met,” Isa added.

  With both hands, Drake reached up and cupped her face. Speaking softly, tenderly, he responded, “No. You’re a fighter in a way I admire. I’ve seen men crumble under half the pressure you’ve faced. Don’t sell yourself short. I wish for one second you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you’d understand how I . . . feel.”

  She closed her eyes for a second as though she was taking in his words. Opening them, she said so softly he almost didn’t make out the words, “Kiss me.”

  Had she really asked or did he hear what he’d wanted? Either way, Drake brought his lips to hers.

  He imagined cupping and sucking on her perfect breasts. It took every ounce of self-control not to lay her back on that couch and taste every inch of her. There was something about her, and he had every intention of finding out what it was.

  Holding back, he placed a light caress, soft like the first, yet when she didn’t pull away he deepened the kiss, and his tongue traced her lips tenderly, prodding her to open to him. Her moans rippled through him, and he knew he was fucked if he didn’t stop now. He was about to pull away when she parted her lips, giving him access. Fuck. Just one taste.

  Drake was overcome by need, his cock aching for her, as she entwined her tongue with his, exploring him as eagerly as he did her. He stroked her jaw then neck, tracing his fingers lower until his thumb brushed her cleavage. He felt her bod
y tense. Was it with built-up passion and desire or fear?

  Although his body wanted to continue, Drake couldn’t further his exploration until he knew the answer. The last thing he wanted to do was bring more sorrow into her life. Lifting his lips from hers, he looked into her dark eyes. He saw passion and desire, but something more as well. He didn’t want to break this connection, but for her sake it had to happen.

  He didn’t remove his hand, his thumb continued to trace the peak of one breast then the other, but his body wasn’t pressed totally against her. “Isa, I need to know you want this.” He could feel her nipples harden. He couldn’t rely on her body’s reaction to his touch. Reluctantly removing his hand, he tried again. “Honey, we don’t have to—”

  Isa reached for his hand and brought it back to the crest of her breast. Shit! There was a conversation that needed to take place, but they’d wait. Isa needed him, and he was going to make sure he showed her what making love could be like.

  It was odd, because Drake never had called it anything but sex. Yet a roll in the sack wasn’t what he was looking for with her. It’s not what she needs either. He had every intention of showing her how he felt. Even if I’m not capable of saying the words.

  Moving his hand slowly, his fingers slid between her breasts. Bending, he placed light kisses along her neck, whispering, “Is that better?”

  He couldn’t read her the way he’d like, but by her reaction, she liked what he was doing.

  Isa was shaking and arched her back, giving him more access. “Much,” Isa moaned.

  He could tell her what he wanted, but he’d much rather show her. Claiming her lips again, his tongue coaxed her into opening for him; he found she was sweeter that time. Her tongue flicked and played with his, and she began to do her own exploring. “God, I want you,” he said hungrily into her mouth.

  Without giving her a chance to respond, he claimed her lips feverishly. This time her body quivered in his arms. Sliding his hands around her back, he pulled her closer. Her firm breasts pressed against him and enhanced his hunger for her.