Chasing Fate: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Love Series Book 5)

by Kat T. Masen

  Opening the lid, she takes a drink, letting out a roar as the tequila makes its way down her throat. “Goodbye,” she shouts, holding the bottle up to the sky. “Too bad decisions and wankers who need to get a fucking life!” She takes another drink.

  I warn her to slow down, attempting to pull the bottle from her hand.

  “You know what your problem is?”

  It didn’t take long, the tequila already running through her veins resulting in a drunken slur.

  “What?”

  “You’re too uptight.”

  I let out a chuckle, followed by a triumphant smirk. “Oh, Kate, you honestly don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do.” She stands up in a rush, swaying slightly. “You like to fuck women. Lots of women. You don’t care about their feelings. You think with your dick, and your dick has all the fun.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? I don’t need to settle down… yet.”

  “Exactly,” she points out. “I was just like you. I was doing my thing and having fun. I didn’t want a relationship. Now look at me,” she cries loudly. “I’m a goddamn mess.”

  “You’re not a mess, Kate. Sit and slow down on the tequila.”

  She listens, plonking herself on the sand while letting out a huge sigh. “I need to let loose again. Have fun. Find a way to forget the last few months ever happened. I want to have sex. I want to fuck like I’m alive. You get me?”

  I get her all too much. I let out a sigh myself. I’m not supposed to be back here. This here is everything that got me into trouble in the first place. There are plenty of people who’ll have my face on a target if I touch her—Charlie, Lex, Haden. There could be more. We could just have fun. We could chat. I don’t need to fuck her.

  Be strong. She’s messed up, big time. Don’t succumb to your old ways.

  “C’mon, Noah.” She hands me the tequila, waiting for me to take a drink.

  I stare at the bottle, thinking about how this time six months ago, I was at the beach with Benny and Tom getting wasted while we played volleyball with a group of Brazilian women on vacation. We laughed until our stomachs hurt, drank until we puked our guts out, and fucked those three women like desperate cavemen.

  And now, I’m here.

  Without a friend.

  Alone.

  And living with my mistakes.

  Unscrewing the cap, I bring the bottle to my lips and swallow the tequila until it burns my throat, and I can no longer stand it.

  Kate cheers loudly, “That’s my boy! Forget it all exists if only for tonight.”

  I repeat until we both fall into a fit of laughter, watching as the sky turns dark and the barely seen stars twinkle in the distance. We talk about Los Angeles, argue over politics, then agree we both dislike pineapple on pizza to end on a heated debate on alien conspiracy theories. Our voices get louder, our arguments become more of incessant rambling as we began slurring our words.

  “Fancy getting wet?” Kate’s eyes light up, waiting for me to respond, while the bottle of tequila touches her lips and makes its way down.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “Cocky bastard.” She grins, inching her body closer to me. Her fingertip rests on my lip, then slowly drags along the bottom, stirring a reaction in my pants. “Trust me, I already am.”

  She shoves the bottle into my chest, and I finish the remaining tequila. Kate stands in front of me, removing her blouse then sliding her skirt down. In only her red lacey panties and bra, she holds my gaze with a devilish smile. “You only live once, right?”

  That’s what they all say.

  And for tonight like every other night, I strongly agree.

  NOAH

  I read somewhere that the West Coast beaches have frigid water compared to the East Coast due to the California current. Never in my life have I shivered as much as I am right now. It’s spring, so granted, it isn’t exactly beach weather, but this is fucking ridiculous. I won’t allow my teeth to chatter, curbing the need by biting down and keeping my legs moving in the water. My skin is prickling, hurting so bad that I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of experiencing hypothermia.

  It’s dark out. Only the lights from the horizon of houses sitting on mountains along with the oceanfront properties and restaurants illuminate the area. This stretch of beach is quiet, and the only sounds are the waves and Kate splashing around me.

  “Cold?” she asks, giggling before dunking her head back in the water.

  “Uh… you could say that.” I try to remain unaffected, but I swear my balls have fallen off and swam to shore seeking refuge under a warm beach blanket.

  “I’m from England, so this is tropically fantastic.”

  “Compared to the English Channel?” I tease, moving my arms in a circular motion to remain warm.

  “I love my country, but our beaches suck.”

  “Interesting, you don’t seem too fond of California.”

  “Not California, American men,” she comments with an air of arrogance.

  I swim closer to her, and with the feeling coming back to my frozen limbs, I place my hand on her hip, drawing her in and whisper, “I’m an American man, but trust me, baby, you’ll have fun.”

  I move my mouth closer to hers and gently brush her bottom lip with the tip of my tongue.

  She breaks away and circles me like a hungry shark, full of laughter and flirtatious gestures. She doesn’t seem so sad now, but maybe the tequila has something to do with that.

  “I need to confess something.” She giggles with a hiccup. “This is the first time I’ve skinny-dipped.”

  “Well, technically, Kate, you’re not skinny dipping unless you’re completely naked.”

  She stops swimming and moves toward me. Stretching her arm around her back, she unclasps her bra, removing it in one go. Her tits float, making my dick slightly hard, her pink nipples teasing me through the moonlight.

  “Happy now? Mr. American?” she teases softly.

  I shake my head, prompting her to strip down completely. I’ve never had sex in the ocean—a first time for everything. Using a condom seems highly unlikely at this time, given that it’s sitting in my wallet on the shore. And then I start to think about all the ocean life floating around us and try to ignore whatever the fuck just brushed against my leg.

  Please let it be seaweed.

  Kate leans forward, her arms moving around in the water until she raises one arm proudly holding a pair of panties. “How about now?”

  This time, I move closer to her, and with our mouths barely apart, I move forward to kiss her lips while my hands shift freely around her ass. In my intoxicated state, every problem weighing on my mind begins to drift further away with the current. Her body against mine is the only thing I’m thinking about.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, tracing the top of my boxers and pulling on them as best as she can. I shake my leg, motioning for them to fall off.

  Goodbye boxers. Fuck, they were my expensive ones too.

  “You should take this as a time to be quiet and let me have some fun.”

  My lips move to her ear, grazing the side of her lobe while my fingers trace her hips and move closer to the front, allowing me to slide my hand between her thighs. She lets out a small yelp while tilting her head back. A warm sensation runs through my body, relaxing my sore muscles from the nasty cold.

  “You’re gorgeous. You know that?” I whisper.

  Arching her back, she wraps her arms around my neck for support, pushing herself against me. “I shouldn’t fuck you…” she murmurs with a guilty plea.

  “Give me one good reason why not,” I demand, edging closer to her clit.

  For once, she chooses not to talk and instead leads our bodies closer to the shoreline until we’re standing on two feet. With her body naked in front of me, her erect nipples tease me relentlessly until I have no choice but to fuck her. Right here. Right now.

  She’s fucking sexy even in the darkness of night. Her b
ody, not too skinny, tall in stature, has all the curves in the right places. I’ve been with plenty of gorgeous women, but perhaps Kate being somewhat off-limits makes her stand out even more.

  “Not here,” she says. “Let’s get out of the water.”

  Pulling my hand along, I follow her to where our clothes lie as she grabs me and pushes me to the sand.

  Okay. Fuck. It’s cold.

  She stands above me, giving me the perfect angle to admire her beautifully manicured pussy with a landing strip smack bam in the middle.

  “Do you want to fuck me, Noah?”

  “When your pussy is staring at me like a wild beast, how could I not want to fuck you?”

  “Then, I ask one thing of you.” Her tone, sharp and fierce, is unlike the giggly Kate, who was floating around the water only moments ago.

  “What’s that?”

  Her chest is heaving, wild eyes staring at me, ready to pounce. “I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand? And I don’t fuck quietly.”

  Is this happening?

  Without drawing any attention, the corners of my eyes scan the area around us, sure I’m being pranked on some reality television show. When I can see we’re alone—aside from two people in the far distance—I nod my head, excited by the thought.

  But as much as the thought turns me on, Big Dick refuses to follow. Oh, for the love of God! The more I think about it, the more it makes me paranoid, and he refuses to come to the party. Fuck! Surely, she can sense how limp it is lying beneath her. Maybe if I fondle her tits, I can make it happen. My hands move to her tits, groping them hard as she moans oddly. Perhaps this is her sex face. It’s odd as she looks pale white then appears to cringe in pain. Good Lord, this isn’t the face of a woman I want to fuck right now. She immediately jumps off me and stares down at me.

  “Oh my God!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

  Holy shit! Is it crab season, I think. Fuck I don’t know. There’s a crab on my dick, I just know it. Sealife, it’s everywhere. I begin to panic, wincing as I wait for the crab to bite my dick off.

  I’m going to have no dick.

  I’m going to be dickless!

  “Get it off me,” I shout back at her.

  “With what?” she answers in a surprisingly calm tone.

  “I don’t know!” I argue. “Your shoe or purse?”

  “My purse cost a thousand dollars. You want me to wipe it off with Michael Kors?”

  “Michael who?” I panic, not comprehending her ridiculous dilemma. “Just get it off me!”

  “It’s just blood,” she says calmly, watching me with judging eyes.

  “I’m bleeding? The crab bit me?” My eyes dart down in a state of panic. “Is my dick still there?”

  Kate’s shoulders begin to move up and down, her laughter echoing against the sound of the waves crashing. Her continuous laugh begins to anger me. What kind of a sick joke is this?

  “I got my period,” she stumbles out in between her laughter. “The blood is from my vagina, not a crab. Your dick’s fine.”

  It takes a moment for it to click. Her period? Oh my God. This is embarrassing.

  “Holy shit.” I fall back onto the sand, covering my face with my hands until I burst out laughing along with her. She drops beside me, both of us naked in a fit of hysterics, unable to catch a breath of air.

  “I thought it was a crab.” I laugh through my words.

  “I thought I was pregnant,” she admits, chuckling as if it’s a joke.

  I stop laughing, catching my breath as her words sink in. “You thought you were pregnant? Baby, I’m good, but not that good.”

  She punches my arm softly and picks up the empty bottle of tequila, throwing it behind us, only to remove another bottle of something from her bag.

  “If you thought you were pregnant, why did you drink tequila?” I question her more seriously. I’m not one to judge, but alcohol and pregnancy don’t exactly mix.

  “Because I didn’t want to be. Because I’m an idiot. Because of many things I just don’t want to feel right now,” she says in one breath.

  I place my arm around her shoulder and bring her closer to me. “We’re so fucked up. Look at us. We’re naked and—” A tingling sensation runs up my thigh. “Was that you? There have to be crabs somewhere. Oh fuck, and scorpions.”

  Kate ignores my panic attack, staring back at the moon with doleful eyes, her lips trembling slightly.

  “Who do you think is more fucked up?” she wonders out loud. “Me or you?”

  “Me… no, wait. Maybe you.”

  We continue to lie there, quietly drinking the bottle of vodka which Kate pulled out of her bag, pretending the world around us doesn’t exist. At some point during a rendition of “Lean on Me,” I stop singing for a moment with a clearer head, despite the alcohol running through my veins.

  “Then let’s call this a successful night. You’re not pregnant, and my dick is still intact.”

  “Intact, yes.” She laughs, following with an obnoxious snort. “Just… afraid to come to the party.”

  It’s impossible to hide my embarrassment. I’m not one to be red-faced, but I can feel my cheeks burning despite the cold air. All I can do at a time like this is laugh at myself. “Do you know how fucking freezing that water is?”

  “So, that was just all to impress me? Mr. Tough Guy, who can handle the shriveling cold water?” She chuckles loudly.

  “Shriveling is an understatement. I take it back… this night is awful. It couldn’t get any worse.”

  And right when I say the words, a torch flashes over our eyes.

  “You’re under arrest for indecent exposure in a public area.”

  Oh fuck.

  NOAH

  When I turned thirteen, my mom gave me the talk. The one which involved girls, how my body would go through changes, and how sometimes I might want to act on my physical feelings by having sex with a girl. Given Mom’s teenage turmoil, she wasn’t leaving it up to some uninterested teacher to inform me about teen pregnancy.

  Mom didn’t hold back, teaching me everything from how easily a girl could get pregnant to how readily you could catch a disease. At the time, I was embarrassed and confused by the whole spiel. It only began to click around the age of sixteen when girls suddenly became interested in me.

  Out of all the bad things I could do, Mom warned me that getting a girl pregnant shouldn’t be one of them.

  When I turned twenty-one and officially became a man of legal age able to go to clubs and drink, Mom gave me another talk. The one about how easily I could fall into the wrong crowd, how life can sometimes be overwhelming, and how, when that happens, we occasionally try our best to forget our worries by doing something stupid. Something illegal.

  “Noah, I raised you well. Promise me, and I mean double promise me that I’ll never see your face in a mugshot.”

  “C’mon.” I brushed it off. “I would never do that to you, Mom. I promise.”

  Here I am at twenty-eight years old, staring into a camera and holding up a board with my name on it. My mom is going to have a coronary. Her only son, her flesh and blood, sitting in a jail cell arrested for indecent exposure. It wasn’t like we were doing anything harmful, but according to the cops, we had broken the law.

  An elderly couple on their nightly walk saw us and were disturbed by our behavior, quickly calling the police and reporting us.

  Sitting in this cold, bleak cell while police fill out paperwork only makes the whole scenario even more depressing. Kate doesn’t see the big deal, trying to flirt with one of the younger cops to help get us out of here. It fails, and she curses in her British slang—something about him being a wanker with a small John Thomas. I have no idea what that means, nor do I care to right now.

  “My mom’s going to kill me,” I blurt out, resting my head in my hands to block out my surroundings.

  “Your mom?” Kate laughs. “I didn’t peg you for a momma’s boy. Blimey, just when you were starting to earn co
ol points.”

  “That term is so overrated.”

  “Says the momma’s boy,” she points out. “I’m more worried about Charlie.”

  I run my hands through my hair, frustrated at the whole situation. “You didn’t have to call her,” I say, annoyed.

  “Who else is going to post bail? Your mom?”

  “Wait. Is that a mom joke?”

  Kate moves across the bench and sits beside me. Poking her finger in my arm, just to annoy me, she says, “C’mon, this is kinda fun, right?”

  The alcohol is still swirling around that crazy brain of hers. She’s supposed to be sad, suffering from a broken heart. Kate, from what I’ve experienced, is nothing like I thought she’d be. That, or she’s good at disguising her emotions with strange British humor.

  “I’m all for a good time, but this isn’t what I had in mind. Fuck! Do you realize how much trouble we’re in? I came to LA to get a fresh start,” I remind her. “Not get busted for nudity and sent to damn jail.”

  She remains quiet, keeping to herself. Maybe I was a little harsh. Kate has bigger worries and still must be processing that whole not-being-pregnant thing. Maybe she’s not void of emotions after all. I definitely have enough emotions whirling inside of me for the both of us—anger, disappointment, and frustration—to name a few.

  But even with my emotions running high, I can’t ignore the silence coming from the person next to me.

  “You okay?” I ask, tilting my head to the side to check up on her.

  Playing with the hemline of her skirt, she answers distractedly, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

  I grab her hand, not to be romantic, but with genuine concern. “The whole pregnancy thing, Kate.”

  “Oh, that,” she plays it off. “Totally forgot about it.”

  Placing my arm over her shoulder, I pull her closer. I don’t know why I feel the urge to protect her. Maybe because she’s Charlie’s best friend. I’ve never had friendships with women. There’s always an agenda behind it. What makes this even more confusing is that I’ve only known her for less than twenty-four hours. Yet, something about her makes me feel like I’ve known her my whole life.