Fermented Desires

What's the fun In routine?

Two weeks had passed since the club incident.

The bruises—emotional and otherwise—had faded. The feeling of being watched had dulled. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Isabella breathed without looking over her shoulder.

She stretched lazily in bed as the morning sun crept across her sheets. Today felt different. Lighter. Bolder. She padded to the bathroom, stripping off her sleep shirt and stepping into the shower. The water was hot, soothing, and as it cascaded down her body, she let her fingers trail over her curves.

This was her body. Her desire. Her control.

She wrapped a towel around her damp skin, letting the steam curl around her as she got dressed—form-fitting jeans, a cropped black tee, a hint of vanilla and rose on her skin. Simple, effortless. Dangerous.

She headed downstairs, finding Hudson exactly where she expected: leaning over the kitchen counter, reading a property report.

She moved past him silently, reaching up to the top shelf for a mug, letting her crop ride up as she stretched. Her hip brushed his side.

"Need help?" he asked, not looking up.

"Am I distracting you again?" she replied sweetly, glancing over her shoulder.

He finally looked at her, eyes lingering. "You know exactly what you're doing."

She smiled. "That's the fun part."

Hudson raised an eyebrow and turned to face her fully. "You've been acting different lately. Bolder."

Isabella walked over slowly, brushing a hand along the counter. "Maybe I'm tired of pretending I'm someone I'm not."

"And who are you now?"

She leaned in, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath. "Someone who knows what she wants."

Hudson cleared his throat and turned away, grabbing his keys. "We should go. You're going to be late."

She grinned behind him. "Scared I might make you late instead?"

----

As always, Hudson drove her to work.

The ride was quiet, tension thick. Her fingers trailed along her thigh slowly, making sure he saw.

He gripped the wheel harder.

"You really don't stop, do you?" he muttered.

"Why would I?" she said innocently. "I'm just sitting here."

"Wearing temptation like a uniform."

She tilted her head, smirking. "Maybe I want you to break routine."

"Issa..."

She hummed. "You like it, just admit it."

He didn't answer. But his jaw tightened.

When they pulled up to the flower shop, Isabella unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned toward him.

"Thanks for the ride," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

Before he could respond, she was already out the door, hips swaying as she stepped inside.

----

The scent of flowers wrapped around her like silk as she entered the shop. Eva was at the back, sleeves rolled, arms deep in buckets of stems.

"Hey, trouble," Eva called without turning.

"Good morning," Isabella replied, voice rich with honey. She walked behind Eva, brushing close—just close enough.