His Simple Wish Page 3

  “They like me, so they’ll stay. You on the other hand had to be bribed to come here.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I found him charming and easily saw why women constantly fell for him, he seemed like the total package. But who was I kidding? Nothing would ever happen between us. He was beach-front property and I was hole-in-the-wall apartment. No way could he be interested in more than just sex…but was that so bad?

  “Ok, I’ll have a drink with you.”

  Without a word he left the kitchen. I continued to clean and pack my things, then stacked them near the door to be carried out to my car. Before he returned I found two stools and placed them by the cool aluminum prep table, thinking it would help keep the drinks stay chilled longer.

  When Drake returned he carried a bottle of white wine and two glasses. He loosened his bow tie and seemed to have a permanent smirk on his face which was sexy and mischievous at the same time.

  “I found a Pinot Grigio, I hope that’s ok.”

  I shrugged not having a clue. I knew there were different varieties of wines, but they all went straight to my head.

  He leaned against one of the stools and poured a small amount of wine into each glass. “Try it. If you don’t like it I’ll get something else.”

  I took a sip of the chilled wine. It was sweet but not overly sweet. The taste surprised me since normally I didn’t care for wine.

  “It’s good. It’ll do.”

  He raised his glass and we clinked. I worried he might make some lame toast but he didn’t say a word. He took a sip of his wine, then filled our glasses some more.

  “I think you need to tell me why you hate me. Is it the Sammy thing? I didn’t know you hated that.”

  “You’ve been asking about me? I’m flattered. I think.” I laughed and put down my glass which slid a bit on the aluminum table.

  “You think? You should be flattered. You know how many women…” He let his voice trail off.

  “Yes, many many women. I know. Too many. That’s all women are to you–toys.”

  “That’s not true at all,” he sighed. “You have no idea how hard it is for me.”

  “Aww poor little rich boy,” I teased then we both laughed.

  “Maybe I was like that a long time ago. Maybe it once mattered how many women I could bed, but not anymore.”

  “I bet that line gets you a lot of girls. Not this one though.”

  “What would get you? Is there anything I can do or are you so dead set against liking me that I’ll never get a chance.”

  He caught me off guard which put me on the defensive. “Listen, I’m sure you just think because I’m fat and a nobody, that you can just pay a little attention to me and bam I’ll end up in your bed. I’m telling you right now that’s not going to happen. I will never sleep with you. Now why don’t you leave. Some of us have to actually work for a living.”

  There was no way Drake Winslow was interested in me. Someone that gorgeous and wealthy? No freaking way. He just thought I was an easy target. I had never been so sure of something in all of my life.

  “Ok ok.” He put his hands up as if I was physically attacking him. He took a drink of his wine then studied me. “You’re an interesting woman Samantha Mayfair.” His eyes traveled over my body and I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

  “First of all you’re not fat and you should never say you are. I think you’re beautiful and I know many women would kill for your body. Secondly, you could never be a nobody. Not to me.” He set his glass down on the table and got up. “Thanks for the drink.”

  He walked towards the door and I regretted letting my big mouth go. When would I learn to think before I spoke? My heart sank as I watched him walk out the door but I felt powerless to do anything.

  Chapter Eight

  Samantha (continued)

  Towards the end of the night, I loaded up my car with most of my things and then gathered the rest by the door. As soon as the party ended, I paid the waiters and grabbed the rest of my stuff and headed to my car. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I was so distracted by Drake, that I didn’t notice the Maserati blocking me in until I started backing out and saw it in my rear view mirror.

  “Dammit! This better belong to someone at the party or I’m screwed.”

  It seemed like I had been outside longer than I thought because the museum looked different since I left. Most of the dimmed lights were off and everything was silent. I walked down the hallway towards the exhibit room the party was in, guided only by the lights on the displays.

  “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

  I heard footsteps on the marble floor so I entered the main hall looking for them. It was two stories high with giant movie posters hung like tapestries. A spotlight lit each poster. It was oddly beautiful and awe inducing at the same time.

  Walking past the posters I realized how huge the Winslow name really was. Hanging around me were more than just movie posters, they were my life. Movies had always been my escape. and each of these movies connected to a memory.

  Whenever I was down, I popped that one into my DVD player. Or this one when I wanted a big laugh. Maybe my love of movies gave me high expectations. Maybe I hated Drake so much because I always thought in the movie of my life, he should fall in love with me. Boy was I stupid.

  I approached the poster for one of my favorite movies. An old movie that had a scene I judged every romantic experience of my life by even though it involved a pottery wheel.

  Suddenly I heard the song playing from that scene. The haunting melody came from the room under which the poster hung. The lights slowly increased to a glow and there, in that exhibit room, was the entire set from my favorite scene, with the pottery wheel spotlighted in the middle.

  My heart thumped wildly as I entered the room. Drake stood on the set, still in his tuxedo. Overwhelmed, I rested my hands on the waist-high plexiglass barrier guarding the set.

  “What is all this?”

  “I heard this was one of your favorite movies. I didn’t want you leaving without seeing the set.”

  He walked over and unhinged the barrier, letting me in. I headed for the pottery wheel and stared at it.

  “Can I touch it?”

  “You can even use it, although I wouldn’t recommend that. It’s a working pottery wheel. Go ahead, sit.”

  I awkwardly sat on the stool wishing I had pants on. The draw of the pottery wheel was too much. I needed to sit at it like the girl in the movie. Hiking my skirt up enough, I repositioned myself with the wheel between my legs and turned it on to a slow spin.

  “This is awesome! I wish I knew how to throw clay.”

  He laughed. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

  I smiled at him and our eyes met. Once again I forgot why I hated him. Deep down I knew I didn’t have a reason.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His entire face smiled when he laughed, crinkling the corners of his eyes and putting a dimple in his cheek I never noticed before.

  “You know, there is one thing missing from this scene,” I said.

  He looked around the set and shook his head. “It should all be here, what’s missing?”

  “In the scene she’s making something and her husband comes up behind her and sits with her.”

  He laughed and nodded as he realized what I was asking him for. He removed his tuxedo jacket, his bow tie was undone and hanging loose under his collar where he unbuttoned his top button. I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone more.

  I scooted up to give him a little space on the stool and he sat behind me. Excited, I began giggling like a little girl. I would have felt embarrassed for myself if I wasn’t enjoying myself so much.

  My anger disappeared. Although I wasn’t sure what to expect next, I didn’t care. For once I was going to live in the moment. No more second guessing myself.

  Leaning back against his strong chest, I melted against him and closed my eyes. I smelled the ocean again and briefly wondered if he smelled like th
at because he lived at the beach.

  My mind wandered to what he said earlier. How he thought I was beautiful. His words were so filled with conviction, I had no choice but to believe him.

  As I grinned like a school girl, I felt his hands slide down my arms and over my hands until he entwined his fingers with mine. His hands made mine feel delicate and small and just like at the reception, his simple touch sent warmth shooting through my body.

  As he stroked and held my hands, my desire for him grew even stronger. Just a tender caress of my fingers and he made my body pulse with excitement. I couldn’t deny it to myself any longer, I never hated Drake Winslow. I might even love him.

  “We should get going,” I whispered.

  He let go of my hands and rose from the stool. I could see he planned on being a gentleman tonight. I didn’t want that.

  “I had a lovely evening Samantha. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime?”

  His eyes never left mine as he took one of my hands and brought it up to his lips and softly kissed my fingers. A shock of electricity engulfed me and I knew I couldn’t let him go. I held onto his hand after his lips left my fingers and smiled.

  “Maybe you could take me home tonight.”

  He swept me up into his arms, knocking over the small stool. My arms wrapped tightly around his neck as our lips came together again and we kissed hungrily.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and began unbuttoning his shirt as he carried me over to an aluminum table at the back of the set, similar to the one in the kitchen. My skirt was still hiked up when he sat me on the table and a rush went up my spine as I felt the cold metal through my panties.

  While he removed his shirt, I quickly unbuttoned and tossed mine aside, leaving me in my lace bra. His hands cupped my face as we kissed again. Our tongues slipped into each other’s mouths while my hands loosened his pants.

  I had to have him. He bit the soft skin of my cleavage and the throbbing between my legs, that I tried to ignore, began to pulse in my ears. As he slid my bra off me, I reached down to touch his hard member.

  I was like a woman possessed. My hand curved around him and moved up and down his shaft. I could feel my panties getting wetter and wrapped my legs around him again, letting myself use the table to slide closer to him.

  His hands moved into my hair and removed the elastic containing my curls. Loosening my hair, he let it fall around my shoulders. He buried his head into my curls and kissed my neck. I heard him inhale deeply and sigh as his smooth cheek rubbed against my shoulder.

  So lost in him and the set surrounding us, I was startled to feel the cold against my thighs as he pushed my skirt up my hips. I pulled myself closer to him and felt his erection pressed against my panties. I let out a soft breath feeling him and thinking how badly I wanted him inside me.

  Relaxing my legs from around him, I wiggled myself out of my panties. He wrapped his large hands around my fleshy thighs, digging his fingers in slightly as he yanked me to the edge of the cold table where he still stood.

  The warmth of his body contrasted with the cold of the table. I felt reckless but didn’t care. I pulled him closer to me as I wrapped my legs back around him.

  His cock felt hot against my skin as he pressed against my wet entrance. As he slipped inside I moaned softly. I ran my hands up his muscular back, holding him against me and pressing my large breasts against his chest as he rocked his hips.

  Suddenly I felt one of his hands slide between us, down close to my hip. He positioned his hand so his thumb could slide over my clit as he rubbed me, the pulsing between my legs grew more intense.

  Thrusting deep into me, I gasped for air. I listened to the rhythmic clank of the table against the wall. His short breaths that matched mine. I clung to him as I felt everything building and rising inside of me, but it was his thumb that sent me over the edge.

  I took a quick deep breath and suddenly chills and tingles coursed through my body as I orgasmed. My moans echoed through the quiet museum and I bit my bottom lip as I hoped the museum really was empty.

  As my body writhed against his, Drake grabbed my ass hard before gasping. His hips slowed as came. He looked into my eyes again, brushed my hair back from my face and cupped my chin as he pulled my face closer to kiss my lips.

  After helping me down from the table, we gathered our clothing and quickly got dressed. He held my hand as we walked back towards receiving where our cars were.

  “Stay with me tonight?” He asked.

  I grinned but couldn’t bring myself to speak. I nodded and let him lead me to his car, and laughed when I saw it was him who blocked me in.

  He held my hand the entire drive out of town and through the winding canyon. As we approached his home, I smelled the salty air of the ocean, a smell I now thought of as his and which my clothes and skin smelled like and smiled again.

  Drake’s house was much smaller than I imagined. It was more of a townhouse, but it was right on the beach. As we entered, he took my hand again, intertwining his fingers with mine.

  “Let me show you around. I want you to feel at home,” he said.

  The first floor had a sunken contemporary living room with a stone fireplace. The kitchen ran the length of the floor with an entrance by the living room and then by a small dining room. The wall facing the ocean was ceiling to floor glass and lead to a patio which extended onto the sand. His home looked like it had been professionally decorated yet still looked comfortable and homey.

  On the second floor was his bedroom and bath. A large bed was in the center of the room and he led me towards it and undressed me before undressing himself and we got into bed.

  He held me close and I felt safe. I laid there thinking how strange it was to be in his home, naked beside him. I tried to get it out of my head and just focus on how good and happy I felt but the nagging feeling wouldn’t stop.

  I heard his breathing become steady and knew he was asleep. I was kidding myself if I thought anything would come from tonight. Nothing had changed. I was still the nobody I always was and he was still Drake Winslow, billionaire playboy.

  How ironic that I became a notch on the very bed I laid in beside him. I pushed away his sweet words and everything he did that night, to me they were bait to get me in the sack. I didn’t want to be there anymore, I felt foolish. I had to take matters into my own hands.

  Slipping out from under his arm, I grabbed my clothes and got dressed. I thought about leaving him a note but didn’t see a point. We both got what we wanted, it was better to leave it at that and move on.

  I called a cab when I got to the street and rode back to the museum in silence, in my little ride of shame, back to get my car. I wanted to believe Drake, but logic didn’t work in his favor. I fell for his charm just like all the others, but it wouldn’t happen again.

  Chapter Eight

  Drake

  I woke to find the bed empty. I got out of bed and put on a pair of khaki shorts I kept on the top of my dresser.

  “Sam?” I called downstairs, but didn’t get a response.

  Figuring she probably decided to sit outside on the patio, I pictured her with her red hair loose, curls blowing in the ocean breeze. I imagined as she hid from the sun which burned and freckled her delicate skin. I wanted to be on that patio with her. If I had one wish it was to simply have her open her heart to me so we could share moments like that.

  As I picked up my cell phone from the nightstand, I noticed several voicemail came in throughout the night. They were from different people on location for the new movie my studio was releasing. I knew something must have happened for me to get so many phone calls. I listened to the first one.

  “Drake, this is Ivan Mitya. Your director. I emailed you yesterday and now have to call since you didn’t respond. The movie is ruined! Absolutely ruined! I can’t work like this!”

  I sighed. There was nothing worse than a dramatic director. I listened to the next message.

  “This is Cindy Patterso
n from Box Office Insurance. I’m sorry to call Mr. Winslow, but I’m going to have to pull your insurance on the Mitya movie. It seems Mr. Mitya is under the impression he can do whatever he’d like. Please call me back.”

  I heard enough. If I wanted this picture back on track I had to go out there and handle things myself. As I headed downstairs I wondered if Samantha would join me. I planned a weekend trip for the two of us by the time I reached the patio, but she wasn’t there.

  “Sam? Samantha?”

  I looked around but she was gone. There was no trace of her. I could have dreamed up the entire night. I thought about the many times I left before dawn with other women and suddenly felt bad.

  I never wanted to be there in the morning. I wanted one thing from those women and after I got it, I lost interest. It seemed like a cruel joke that the moment I met someone I wanted to have a relationship with, the one woman I thought I could open up to, and she would treat me like dirt.

  How dare she treat me that way! She’d better have an explanation. I dialed her number but her voicemail answered.

  “Samantha, it’s Drake. Call me. I expected you to be here this morning.”

  I angrily clutched my phone as I hung up. I would have thrown it if I didn’t need the damned thing. How dare she do this to me! And after everything I did for her last night. I gritted my teeth before I calmed down and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  I wasn’t used to this. I always got whatever and whoever I wanted. Shaking my head I sat in the sun. Deep down I knew I was spoiled. People gave me what I wanted. They always had their own motives, but it served them to please me.

  Samantha was obviously different. She didn’t care about who I was or what I had. It was refreshing and anger-inducing at the same time.

  I called to arrange for my private jet to be gassed and ready that afternoon. With Sam gone I needed this movie problem to force me back to where my head needed to be. I understood why Ashley planned the black tie event so quickly, besides my wanting a chance with Samantha right away.

  Wanting to see how she was holding up and how her father felt, I decided to call Ashley knowing her father lived near the city I was headed to.