Defining Destiny

by Deanna Chase

  She narrows her eyes at me and gives me a look that makes me think she sees right through me.

  I shift under the uncomfortable scrutiny of her gaze.

  Then she blinks and turns back to the fridge. She grabs a Diet Coke, the one Lillian, my sister, left among the regular ones. “See you in a few,” she says, heading back out of the kitchen.

  Her hips sway and my eyes stay glued to her rising hemline. Christ. She’s intentionally trying to kill me. Damn that skirt.

  Five minutes later with two steaming plates of Chinese food, I rejoin her in the den. She’s curled up on her end of the couch, fidgeting with her phone. It’s buzzing, but she makes no move to answer it.

  I set the plates of food on the table and gently pull the phone from her fingers. “Are you expecting an important call?”

  She shakes her head, sadness haunting her expression. Anger vibrates through me. Cadan Kinx. He’s the bastard who’s responsible for the look in her striking eyes. It takes every last bit of strength to not stalk over to the bar and pound my fist into his pansy-ass face. Fucking dick.

  I power her phone down. “If you’re not going to answer, it’s probably better to just turn it off. No need to torture yourself.”

  “But what about Jax? What if she needs us?” Her voice is small, as if she isn’t sure of anything in this moment.

  I pull my phone from my back pocket and tap out a text to Jax, letting her know if she needs Lucy to call me. “Is this okay?”

  Lucy takes the phone from my outstretched hand. “She’s going to think something’s going on.”

  Neither of us says anything. There is something definitely going on, but would either of us act on it? “She’s a big girl,” I say. “Besides, she’s either too drunk to care or she’s already home asleep.”

  “True.” Lucy leans back into the couch and closes her eyes. “I can’t believe how tired I am all of a sudden.”

  I hit Send and sink into the couch, closer to her this time.

  Her eyes fly open, clearly surprised I’ve invaded some of her personal space. If she isn’t careful, I’m going to invade a whole lot more of it. Given half the chance, I’ll do my best to get her mind off that douche mate of hers. At least for a few hours, anyway.

  “Eat.” I hand her a plate and take the other for myself.

  She smiles, and though she isn’t exactly the sassy, confident singer she’d been earlier in the night, the tension has drained from her face. Her muscles relax as if she’s settling in for the night. She looks comfortable.

  I try to ignore how content the scene makes me. It’s temporary. She’s only relaxing because she has a safe haven for the night. Tomorrow she’ll be gone, and so will all the alcohol-induced feelings. Except I’m painfully aware I’m not all that drunk. And neither is she.

  She picks up the remote and restarts the movie. She must have stopped and reset it because it starts up roughly where it was when we first left the room. We eat in silence as we watch the protagonist go on date after date, chronicling all her disasters on a blog. She has quite the following before Wes Chadwick calls her to do an interview for a national news outlet about dating after you’ve lost your soul mate.

  I cringe and glance at Lucy, desperate to turn this shit off. Everyone knows it’s next to impossible to find a love match after you’ve met your mate. This movie only serves to torture us into thinking there’s a second chance at love. Right. No one can compare to E and everything she was, everything that we were. I take Lucy’s discarded plate and my own. “I’ll be right back.”

  She picks up the remote and glances at me, her eyes too bright. This movie is the worst pick ever. But she chose it. “Do you want me to pause it?”

  “No,” I say more sharply than I mean to. “It’s fine.” Once back in the kitchen, I take my time rinsing the plates and wiping down the counter, which isn’t even dirty. After twenty minutes go by, I have no choice but to return to the movie from hell. I search the fridge for another Diet Coke for Lucy and finally find one in the very back. How long had that been there? Months probably. That case of regular Coke was left over from the surprise birthday party Lillian had tried to throw eight weeks ago. That had ended in a shouting match between us and we haven’t spoken much since.

  Damn her. Why hadn’t she just listened to me when I’d said no celebration? I’d ended up in a cheap bar in Leggett and had woken up next to that girl Cami, who’d already mentally moved to Mendocino. At some point she’d managed to extract my number from my cell phone while I’d been asleep. In the end, I’d had to change my number just to get rid of her. In my mind, the fiasco was all Lillian’s fault. I never would have left town if she’d just left everything well enough alone.

  The house is really quiet as I move back to the den. There are no voices or background music filtering through the house. Has she paused the movie again? I tense. I cannot watch that crap any longer. I stride into the den, determined to stop the movie, but it’s already off.

  Lucy stands and holds out a hand to me.

  I place the Diet Coke on the table. “That’s for you.”

  “Thanks,” she whispers and moves closer. Her fingers brush my arm and slide down to twine with my fingers. I want to pull away, but at the same time, I can’t force myself to do it. Her touch is too soft, too comforting, too everything.

  “What happened to the movie?” Why did I ask that? I don’t give a shit about that movie. In fact, I’m going to smash the Blu-ray into little bits as soon as humanly possible.

  She places her free hand on my cheek and trails her fingers across my jawline. “I don’t think either of us was enjoying it.”

  I don’t respond. I’m too busy trying to breathe. Her touch is light, tantalizing, and I want her more than I’ve wanted anything… anyone… in the past eighteen months. The emotional turmoil spilling through me, the guilt, the want, the need, it’s all more than I can handle. I know I need to step away from this girl. Leave. Walk out of her life.

  But then she rises up on her tiptoes. “Seth,” she says and presses her lips to mine.

  Chapter 7

  Lucy

  That damn movie. Why had I picked it again? Oh yeah. Wes Chadwick. However, not even Wes’s startling eyes and gorgeous body are compelling enough to keep me watching. People lose their soul mates all the time. Whoever wrote this movie clearly had been trying to explore some wish fulfillment. It doesn’t happen twice. Everyone knows that. The best you can hope for is some sort of contentment with a person you like well enough to hang out with on a regular basis.

  But that all-encompassing love? You only get it once. Pretending it exists outside of the one is asking for disappointment.

  I grab the remote and push buttons until the screen goes blank. There’s no way I’m going to continue to subject Seth to such an awful movie. The despair written all over his face as he left with the plates is too much to bear. My heart breaks for him. Jax told me he’d lost his girlfriend in a horrific accident. He hadn’t walked away like I did. Even though it was my choice, I’m still suffering. I don’t know what’s worse: feeling like half a person or losing myself completely in Cadan’s bullshit.

  The longer Seth’s gone, the more I start to resent the movie for putting that look in his eyes. I’m oddly protective of this guy, and I don’t know why. Maybe because he’s been so kind to me. Maybe because he’s Jax’s friend. Or maybe it’s because of the way he made me melt when he had his hands all over me.

  When Seth finally returns, his jaw is set with barely contained tension. I stand and hold out a hand to him as he sets down a Diet Coke, then I move closer and lace my fingers with his.

  He notices the television and turns curious eyes on me. “What happened to the movie?”

  Seeing him standing there, filling the space so completely, yet appearing vulnerable and unsure of what to do next, propels me into action. I run my fingertips over his jaw and give a vague response about neither of us enjoying the flick.

  At my touch, th
e uncertainty in his eyes vanishes, replaced by molten desire.

  I rise up on my tiptoes. “Seth…”

  Our lips meet and it’s all heat and fire and raw passion. His hands slip into my hair and tighten, holding me to him in that incredibly sexy, gentle but possessive way.

  God, I want him. More than I would’ve thought possible. He tastes salty and sweet, and I can’t get enough. His faint, spicy, masculine scent wraps around me, entrancing me, inviting me closer. I press my chest against his and almost gasp at the rough caress of fabric against my hardened nipples. The halter-style dress wasn’t exactly made for bra wearing, so I’d skipped it altogether.

  “Lucy,” Seth whispers between kisses, his voice rough, full of all the desire I crave.

  “Hmm.” I moan back as he nips at my neck.

  One arm wraps around my waist and he tugs me closer, pressing his groin into me. He’s already rock hard. The knowledge sends heat between my thighs. My fingers itch to free him from his jeans, to demand he take me right here and now. Instead, I curl my fists into his shirt and hold on as his mouth works its way from my neck to my exposed collarbone.

  “You taste like vanilla frosting,” he murmurs against me and tilts my head farther to the side for better access. “It’s making me crazy.”

  “Thank God,” I say, breathless.

  He lifts his head, his eyes pinning me with their intensity, before he bends and presses his lips to the swell of my breast. The shock of his hot tongue against my exposed cleavage sends me whirling. I shift my hips against his, trying desperately to get closer. I want to feel every inch of him as he works his tongue lower.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs and lifts his head. Holding my gaze, he glides his hands up over my arms to my shoulders and stops at the base of my neck, gently holding the tie of my halter. He watches me, silently asking for my permission.

  I answer by slipping my hands under his black T-shirt. When my fingers touch the hard expanse of his warm chest, he sucks in a breath and slowly tugs. The tie comes undone easily. My halter slips down to my waist, exposing me to him. His eyes stay locked on mine for a truly tantalizing moment of self-torture. I bite my bottom lip and shift my gaze to my chest.

  Look at me. Touch me, I mentally beg. If he doesn’t, I’m going to combust where I stand.

  As if he’s heard my silent pleas, he gently cups my breasts, running his thumbs over my overly sensitive nipples. My breasts are instantly heavy with lust and craving. I tug his shirt over his head and slide my hands down, trailing them along the indent of his V-line between his waist and hips.

  He shivers slightly. Oh, how I want to make him do that over and over again. Tattoos cover both arms and his right shoulder. I want to stop and study each one, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He gently pinches my right nipple, and now I’m the one shivering. He kneads the tip until I gasp and then dips his head down, catching the left one between his teeth.

  “Oh God.” I moan, digging my fingers into his hips. Sparks of pleasure and pain ripple through me as he nibbles and scrapes his teeth over my taut peaks.

  Before I know what I’m doing, my fingers are fumbling with the fly of his jeans.

  One of his hands covers mine, stopping me. He lifts his mouth from my throbbing breast. “Not yet, babe. Soon, but not yet.”

  I twist my hand free from his and flatten it against his jeans, running my fingers over the length of his hardness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

  His eyes narrow with barely controlled desire. It’s the exact reaction I was hoping for.

  “Lucy,” he forces out through ragged breaths. “If you keep doing that, touching me that way, this is going to be over before we even start.”

  Before we start? What have we been doing for the last ten minutes?

  “Let me worship this sexy body of yours for a while first.” He moves my hand back to his hip as he turns us and presses me up against the wall once more. He gives me that devilish smile, then clamps his mouth back over my breast, and I let out a startled gasp of pure pleasure.

  “Okay.” My voice is almost a whisper as he sucks hard on my nipple and teases the other with his clever fingers.

  I give myself over to him and wind my fingers through his thick, bronze hair, holding him to me, afraid that when he stops, I’ll never be the same again. The things he’s doing to me, the way my body burns for his touch, it’s all new. I’d been with Cadan so many times, but it had been different. More of an emotional release after a concert that left us both wound tight. Good, sure. But not hot, needful, or full of this crazy desire to lose myself in someone.

  And right now, I’m lost. Utterly and completely.

  Nothing matters but the passion crashing over us. Seth is breathing hard when he finally releases my breast. So am I. His hot tongue marks a path back to my lips.

  “I want you just like this.” He places his hands on my ass once more and lifts me so my legs are wrapped around him, the same way we’d been in the kitchen. When he’d told me he’d been dreaming of me wrapped around him since I first walked away from him at the bar.

  Excitement makes my blood pump faster. I want him to take me just like this. Against the wall in an uncontrollable frenzy. I flatten myself to him, pressing my bare breasts into his chest, and rake my nails lightly along his back. “I’m ready,” I say, pulling back slightly to hold his gaze. “Right here, right now.”

  His emerald eyes glow with green fire. He redoubles his efforts, kissing me thoroughly, and reaches for the zipper of my skirt. In one short motion it’s free, and Seth is lifting me off him. My knees wobble slightly as he sets me carefully on my feet. My halter dress falls to the floor, leaving me in my black lace panties and thigh-high boots. I’m almost shaking I want him so badly.

  But he’s still got his jeans on. I reach for him again, but he sidesteps me and then kneels before me, his eyes level with my sex. “I want to see what’s under these,” he says, sliding his fingers into the waistband of my lace. Raising his gaze to mine, he slowly works them over my hips and down my thighs until they pool at my feet with the discarded dress. Carefully he lifts each foot, freeing me from my garments.

  “Hey,” I say softly, surprised I’m not more self-conscious. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  He responds by running his hands the length of my boots to my bare thighs. The heat and need intensifies to a pulsing throb as he nears my center. I shift, spreading my feet farther apart to give him access, but his hands don’t go any higher. Instead, he feathers kisses down my thigh, stopping at the top of my boot. With steady fingers, a sharp contrast to my own trembling ones, he lowers the zipper of my boot and continues his exploration of kisses down my inner leg and then back up again. He watches my eyes as he rezips the boot.

  I raise one eyebrow in question.

  “You’re keeping these on,” he says huskily and repeats the process on the other side.

  My right hand is buried in his hair, the other pressed against the smooth wall. I stare out the picture window at the Pacific pounding relentlessly against the cliffs and let out a loud moan of ecstasy as his tongue finally enters me, pleasuring my sex at my most sensitive spot. His hands inch closer, spread wide over my thighs, his rough calluses teasing my tender flesh.

  He laps and nips just as he had when he’d kissed my mouth, but this time I’m a live bolt of electricity, sparking all over, pushed to the edge by the bundle of nerves he’s commanding. The pressure builds, driving me higher into an unfamiliar realm of sweet torture. My body begs for more, pressing into his mouth, taking everything he has to give.

  He pulls back and a whimper escapes my lips as I tremble against the wall, waiting for him to finish what he started. “Seth,” I breathe.

  “Shatter for me,” he whispers, and then his mouth is on me again, his tongue working its magic. I’m wound as tight as I can possibly be, just on the edge, when his fingers plunge into me. I cry out as a long shudder starts from my center and moves through me in
waves, crashing hard and thunderous.

  When I come back to myself, spent and languid with my release, Seth has his arms wrapped around my middle, his head tucked against my belly, holding on. Only his embrace keeps me standing on my shaky legs. I rest my hands lightly on his shoulders and close my eyes.

  “That was…” I can’t even come up with a word to describe the magnitude of what he’d made me feel.

  “Mind-blowing,” he supplies and gets to his feet.

  “That will work.” I smile at him weakly.

  He brushes a damp lock of hair from my eyes and bends to kiss me. The salty taste of his mouth brings the sensations of my orgasm flooding back, and the familiar throb starts up again.

  The hungry nature of his kiss enraptures me, fueling a fresh spark of desire. He places both hands on the wall on either side of my head and goes to work once again on my neck, keeping his body slightly away from mine so only his lips are touching me.

  But my hands are eager. He’s learned every inch of my body. It’s my turn. I start by tracing my lips over his shoulder and run one finger down the crevice between his pecs. He stills mid-nibble, and I’m gratified to hear the slight catch of his breath. His muscles clench as he tries to hold himself back. He’s beyond need, almost beyond control. I’m certain of it. With one touch, one word, I could have him inside me. Where I know he wants to be.

  The knowledge that I hold this power gives me courage, and instead of opening to him, I grab his hips and twist, turning us both so he’s now the one leaning against the wall.

  His eyes glitter with anticipation. I take a small step back and watch his gaze track my hands as they move to the top of his jeans once more. He keeps his arms loose at his sides and doesn’t stop me. Slowly, I undo the button and slip the zipper down, revealing black boxer briefs. His gaze doesn’t waver from my touch as his muscles tighten with smoldering intensity. With his shirt long discarded and his jeans open, I can’t help but run my hands over his chest, exploring the ridges of his toned muscles. He must work out, but not obsessively so. Just enough to keep himself in decent shape. I love it. He’s so different from what I’ve known in the past. So alive. So incredibly male.