50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

Chapter Four

    "All of a sudden I feel like tasting something sweet...sweet...sweet..."

    Destiny was seated on the counter of Eli's Bakery. Aubrey stood in the space between her thighs, caressing the side of her face. Trailing his hand down from her jawline to the slope of her neck. Sliding from there to outline her collarbone with just his fingertips, causing shivers to run down her spine. She arched her back and turned her head away from him, closing her eyes.

    His eyes remained locked on her profile for several moments before dragging down the length of her body. His arms circled around her waist. He pulled her closer to him, until there was no separation between them. He used two fingers to turn her face so that she was looking at him. "I want you so close to me that I can't tell where I end and you begin," he murmured, his voice deep and raspy.

    She lifted her hands to his shoulders. She peeled the suit jacket off of him as if it were the outer layer of an onion. Nimble fingers attacked the buttons of his button-down shirt next. And then his face was buried in her neck, pressing hot kisses where her pulse throbbed.

    He pressed his body into her, and she wrapped her legs around his back, using body language to echo the sentiment that she wanted to be as close to him as possible. He dug his hands into her hair as he kissed his way to her cheek. When his mouth found hers, he groaned against her lips.

    She slid his dress shirt down well-toned arms while sucking on his bottom lip...

    A sharp knock sounded on the door. Destiny bolted upward into a sitting position, sleepy and disoriented. The knock sounded again, and she swiveled her head around in the direction of her bedroom door. Her room was dark. She'd slept through the afternoon and into the evening. She stood from her bed and padded barefoot to the door.

    She opened the door and was greeted with the sight of Candace, who gave her a quick one-over before saying, "Did you just wake up? I'm going to need you to get it together."

    Destiny rubbed her eyes. "What's up?" she asked, not in the mood for jokes or unsolicited advice.

    "You have a visitor," Candace announced, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. She stepped to the side of the doorway.

    A tall, brown-skinned man with short, curly hair stood in the living room. He was watching television and had his back to her, but Destiny recognized him, even without seeing his face. It was her boyfriend – well, her ex-boyfriend, to be more accurate.

    Destiny looked down at herself. She was still wearing her work clothes, and her hair probably looked a mess. She reminded herself that she didn't care what she looked like. It was Jordan. He wasn't worth changing, wasn't worth styling her hair for. She breezed past Candace and entered the living room. She went to stand in front of Jordan with her arms crossed over her chest.

    He'd gone the extra mile to put in effort. He was dressed nicely, in a navy blue dress shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black dress shoes. The scent of the rose bouquet in his hands blended with his cologne. It smelled delicious...he smelled delicious. "Hi, Des," he said.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked tiredly.

    "You weren't returning my calls," he explained. "So I wanted to come here in person and talk to you."

    Candace disappeared down the hall and into her room.

    Destiny waited for the telltale sound of her roommate's door closing before looking up at Jordan. "What is there to talk about?"

    "I wanted to apologize. Again."

    "You've already apologized." She pointed to the roses. "Are those for me?"

    He nodded and extended them to her.

    She sighed and accepted them. She lifted them to her nose, while keeping watchful eyes on him. "Thank you for these. You didn't have to do this, Jordan." She turned and headed into the kitchen, still sniffing the flowers. She set the bouquet on the kitchen counter and stood on tiptoe so she could open the cabinet doors above the stove.

    Jordan followed her into the kitchen, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. "I know I messed up. It was just a kiss though, and I can promise that it will never happen again. I want you to take me back."

    She pulled a vase out of the cabinet and closed the cabinet doors. "We all want a lot of things in this life," she told him. "But we don't get everything we want."

    He frowned. "You're really just done with me like that?"

    "What do you want me to say?" she demanded. "When we first started dating, I told you that cheating on me was the one thing that I can't forgive someone for. I told you that if you wanted to see other people, or if you were attracted to someone else, to man up and tell me, Jordan. And what do you do?"

    He hung his head in shame, having no response for that.

    "If I give you a chance and you cheat on me again, then I'm as much to blame as you," she said as she carefully placed the roses in the vase, avoiding the thorns jutting out from the stems. "I'm not going to set myself up like that."

    "But I'm promising you that it won't happen again."

    She picked up the vase full of flowers and turned her back to him, flipping up the faucet above the kitchen sink. She lowered the vase into the sink and turned the faucet so that it hovered over the vase. "Jordan..."

    "Do you remember the weekend we spent in Miami?" he asked before she could get the sentence out.

    If Jasmine were here to listen to this conversation, she'd tell me that he was bringing up good memories so I remember him in a positive light, she thought to herself as she watched the water filling up the vase. "Yes, I remember the trip to Miami."

    "That was the best weekend of my life," he said earnestly, seating himself on the stool in front of the counter.

    "It was a fun weekend," she admitted, turning to face him.

    "We should take another trip," he suggested, his expression brightening. "Not Miami, since we've been there, but maybe Vegas. Or San Diego."

    She shook her head, looking at him intently. The desperation she saw in his eyes was heartbreaking. A part of her wanted to forgive him, because she could see that he really wanted another chance. But if she gave him another chance, she would become one of those crazy girlfriends, one of those girlfriends who timed how long it took for him to get home from school or work. One of those girlfriends who snuck peeks at his cell phone screen to see who he was texting. She didn't want a life like that for herself. She wanted someone she could truly love, someone she could have absolute trust in. And right now, that man was not Jordan. How did she tell him that? How did she say all of that to him without hurting his feelings? And more importantly, why did she still care about his feelings when he'd stomped all over hers the day he kissed another girl?