Freeing Destiny (Fate #2)

by Faith Andrews

  The saddened look in his eyes told me that last part was a lie. It was painfully obvious that we were running out of time. I hated it. There were so many things I wished for in that moment—the ability to freeze the clock, or travel back in time, or to have an endless do-over of the last few days with Jack on a repeat reel. It felt like some odd and cruel twist of fate. What kind of messed up destiny would throw Jack in my path now?

  Forgoing all the bitter thoughts playing out in my frazzled brain, I nodded in answer to Jack’s questioning eyes. “Okay. I like the sound of that.”

  It was time to abandon plans and worries and strategies. The only thing I planned on doing from here on out was whatever I felt was right—in the moment. I wanted to kiss him again, and if kissing led to more then I was ready for that, too. Jack was right when he said all that mattered was that we spent the time we did have together. The memories would be worth it, even if it meant hurting in their absence.

  “This movie sucks, dude.” I was trying not to yawn through Jack’s movie suggestion—his all-time favorite.

  His jaw dropped, mid-chew, flashing a mouthful of pizza. Assessing my disgusted expression, he snapped his mouth shut, swallowed and then threw a crumpled up napkin at my forehead. The paper connected before I could deflect it, but I didn’t flinch.

  “Are you joking? What kind of Italian doesn’t like The Godfather? I’m appalled by you—you, you . . . imposter.”

  I couldn’t contain my laughter because Jack was truly shocked by my disrespect for the classic mobster film. What could I say? It wasn’t my thing. I was a romantic and there was nothing romantic about a dead horse’s head in someone’s bed.

  Raising my hands in defense, I giggled. “Sorry, babe. I’m just being honest.”

  “Say that again.” His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he blinked his eyes. His smile grew wide as he waited for me to speak.

  “Say what again? That I’m just being honest or that the movie sucks?” What was the big deal? I was confused.

  “No, not that.” His eyes remained closed as he shook his head. “Call me babe again. It sounds so delicious coming from your mouth.”

  Oh. That. We’d managed to keep things platonic since settling in at his apartment. He showed me around, we chatted about his impressive music collection—all LPs that he listened to on an old record player—which added to his mystique—and we’d ordered a pizza. It was all very casual, comfortable, easy. Up until now.

  Now, all I could think about was the way he kissed me in his car. The way it felt to be held by him, even if only in the confines of the small space. I wanted his lips on mine again, his hands caressing my skin, but I worried that without any boundaries I’d let it go further than I was ready for. I didn’t want to lead him on, but I didn’t necessarily want things to stay PG. This was one of those times I was supposed to allow my heart to think for my head.

  I started with giving in to Jack’s request, because seeing him so excited by that one little word made my heart happy. “You like it when I call you babe? It’s so boring compared to the beautiful nickname you gave me.”

  “Stella, I like it when you call me anything—other than Jacky pants, of course. It might’ve just been a slip of the tongue, but it still sounded like velvet.”

  How could he make something so simple sound so seductive? Letting go of all my earlier inhibitions, I played into his hand and followed his lead. Maybe I could impress him and kick up the spice a bit. “Did you know I speak French?”

  His eyes popped wider as he rubbed his hands together. “Um, no! Say something. Anything.”

  I thought about reciting the popular risqué lyrics to the Patti Labelle song, knowing that it translated to do you want to sleep with me tonight, but instead I mustered up a sultry accent and said, “Pouvez-vous s’il vous plaît passer le beurre.” I’d kind of lied when I told him I could speak French. Please pass the butter was one of the only phrases I’d remembered from Madame Taylor’s tenth grade lessons.

  Jack’s expression went from vacant to wicked as he spoke in the most beautiful French I’d ever heard. “Oui, mon amour. Je serais plus qu’heureux de passer le beurre puis barbouiller sur tout votre corps sexy.”

  All I could decipher were the words amour which meant love, and sexy which had to translate to it’s equal in English. Crap! I walked right into that one, didn’t I?

  Playfully pushing his shoulder, I conceded. “What did you say?”

  “For me to know and you to find out, Beau Soleil.”

  I understood the term of endearment; I was his beautiful sun, his Sunshine. Hearing it in any language made me smile.

  “Where’d you learn it? You speak it so well.” I was intrigued. Yet another layer of Jack to unravel. Every time I uncovered something new, my veneration for him grew deeper.

  “My mom. Her mother was born in France and spoke only French for years until she had Mom, and then didn’t want to seem like some ignorant immigrant. Ironically, my mother insisted she only speak her native language when she was around me and my sisters growing up. We picked it up. And the look on your face just now was worth the years of torture from Grandmère Claudette.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke. I loved playful Jack. He set me at ease, even while my nerves were sparking with excitement under my skin.

  “Say something else,” I begged, hungry for more of his seductive charm.

  Pinching his thumbs to his other four fingers in a European-like gesture, he feigned his best Marlon Brando chin and garbled voice, “Je vais vous faire une offre que vous ne pouvez pas refuser.”

  I threw my head back as I laughed heartily. I understood a few of his words and made it out to be the most popular line from The Godfather—‘I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.’ I wished I knew how to retaliate in this language he knew so well. But in that moment, I knew what I had to offer him in hopes he wouldn’t refuse.

  “How do you say kiss me in French, Jack?”

  Inching closer, he placed his hand on my cheek and stroked a calloused thumb along my lower lip. “How about I show you instead?”

  Stella

  My breath hitched at this words. Somehow the English sentence was sexier than anything he could’ve said in French.

  Gazing into his clear blue eyes, I willed him to lean in and gift me with another magical kiss. The one from the car was perfect, but I’d been nervous and caught off guard. Now I was ready and couldn’t wait a second longer.

  Jack must’ve sensed my urgency, or felt the same necessity to be touched, because he inched closer to me, one hand on my cheek, the other holding one of my nerve-dampened hands. The tip of his nose nuzzled against mine and with the slightest sound of him inhaling the tension between us, he dipped lower and our lips met.

  His lips were soft and experienced, coaxing me to loosen my reserve. I relaxed into the mesmerizing spell that took over my senses as our tongues danced together in a smooth rhythm. Between slow silk-like caresses and playful nibbles, I felt the walls around my careful heart break apart into tiny fragments. I was okay with that. Somehow Jack owned a little piece of what I’d kept guarded for so long—what I hadn’t given to anyone. There was no harm in accepting what the heart wanted. And mine wanted Jack.

  Repositioning myself, our mouths still linked together, I nudged a knee between Jack’s legs and pressed against his chest as I lowered myself on top of him. A throaty growl escaped him and the vibration against my mouth sent tingles to all the right places.

  Wordless and panting, our kiss deepened—hands roamed, hearts pounded, body parts ground feverishly. This was the part in the movie where the woman ripped the man’s clothes off and begged him to take her. Right? So why couldn’t I muster up the nerve to do what my body begged of me?

  “Stella . . .” Jack moaned. His hands cupped my ass and pushed me against his impressive erection.

  “Yes?” I wished my voice wasn’t so weak. For once I wanted to at least sound in control, but I was still scared to let go
of this part of me. I feared what the consequences would entail.

  “Can we go to my bedroom?” His question was a raw whisper, his plea soaked in desperation. I wanted so badly to say yes, but I needed him to know the truth first.

  What a buzzkill this would be.

  Pressing against him, wishing this friction of our bodies was enough to tame our hunger tonight, I spoke against his lips. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  His body tensed beneath me and I hid my face in the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around him. Maybe I could hide from this a few more minutes. Was that too much to ask? Never in my life had I been so mortified by my lack of sexual experience. I knew the kind of man Jack was and once I revealed I was a virgin, he’d think of me differently. He’d want to be careful with me. His actions would be thought-out and calculated instead of spontaneous and heated. I wanted my first experience to be one I’d always remember—like those books Aunt Gina read and the way Nina gushed over her experiences with Ryan. God damn it, was it crazy that I didn’t want him to go slow or treat me as if I’d crack in two?

  Freeing me of my internal mental breakdown, Jack scooted over so our bodies faced each other. “What is it, Stella? Are you okay?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I lied.

  “Talk to me, Sunshine.”

  God, he was so patient. Not an ounce of frustration laced his words. He was a good man. The kind I’d waited for—the reason I was still a virgin. There weren’t many like him. In that moment, I knew it would be okay if I told him. So without any sugarcoating, I did. “When I told you in the car I’d never done this before, I meant sex, Jack. I’ve never slept with a guy before.”

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. There. That was off my chest. When I opened them again I expected the world to look differently—cataclysmic events were sure to have taken place. But no, none of that existed in this sacred moment between Jack and me.

  His eyes didn’t don pity or remorse; they gleamed with understanding and dare I say it, more desire than they had before. “You really are like sunshine. So pure and warm. I never would’ve guessed because someone as beautiful as you probably has guys lined around the block to be with you, but I should’ve known.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or some flaw in me he’d managed to point out. It made me feel vulnerable until he wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “We can wait. I won’t take that from you until you’re sure. If you’re sure. For now, this is enough, Stella. Being here with you is always enough.”

  Jack

  She snaked her leg around mine, pulling our bodies closer together. My pants never felt so fucking restrictive. I wanted to strip her bare, take the time to appreciate every bit of her beautiful flesh. Taste, touch, and claim her. Her hips were giving me the green light every time she rubbed her neediness against mine.

  Taming myself only because I didn’t want her to think she was some quick score, I suggested moving things to my bedroom.

  And then she froze.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  For a second I felt the frustration of any man whose dick was so hard and swollen it ached. But when Stella collapsed against me, her face hiding against my neck, I couldn’t bring myself to be annoyed. My instinct was concern. Immediately.

  Her limbs trembled slightly and not in the good you-make-my-knees-weak kind of way. She was scared. Nervous. I didn’t want her to feel that way in my arms. Ever. “What is it, Stella? Are you okay?”

  Her quiet response was hard to make out, but I got my answer from her lack of eye contact.

  Pivoting so I could face her, I fingered her long hair, coaxing her to let me in. “Talk to me.”

  Stella took a gulp and closed her eyes. “When I told you in the car I’d never done this before, I meant sex, Jack. I’ve never slept with a guy before.”

  Oh! I can’t say it didn’t shock me. She was a little younger, definitely more innocent, and so much more refined than any of the women I’d ever been with, but I still hadn’t pegged her—this woman who was the whole sexy package—to be untouched, in that way.

  Opting out of lightening the moment with the kind of sarcasm that had grown so easy between the two of us, I looked into her eyes and spoke the truth. Stella’s warmth infused me the way sunshine brightened the sky. I couldn’t lie—I was fucking blown away that my girl was still a virgin, but I shouldn’t have been. She was beautiful and tempting, but oh so pure.

  Her brow arched; her lips formed a tight line. It may have sounded like a back handed compliment, but it wasn’t. Stella was pure in every sense of the word and I wasn’t about to ruin that for her. I cared for her, and it wasn’t only about getting in her pants and feeding this rabid hunger that overtook me when I was around her. Now it was about letting her in on the secret. I wanted her to be mine. Far away or right beside me. I’d make this work because she was worth it. “We can wait. I won’t take that from you until you’re sure. If you’re sure. For now, this is enough, Stella. Being here with you is always enough.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, reminding me of the delicate wings of a butterfly. The smile that crept on her lips brightened her face and washed all the worry away. Whoever had said honesty is the best policy was a fucking genius.

  “You really mean that, Jack? You’re not . . . mad?” She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, swallowing hard.

  “Why would I be mad?”

  “I don’t know, because you’re a guy. And here I am giving you the impression that I’m about to sleep with you and now you’re probably . . .” She looked down at my crotch and her cheeks turned a subtle shade of pretty-in-pink.

  “Frustrated?” I suggested. That was one way of explaining the raging case of blue balls, but she didn’t need to feel bad about making the decision that was right for her. I commended her for having a level head in such a heated moment. That was one of the reasons the world would be a better place if women ran the show.

  Dipping her head into the crook of my neck again, laughter shook her body. Her soft breath coated my overstimulated skin. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I feel like such an idiot.”

  “Please don’t. We’re fine. I’m fine. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Releasing a soft puff of air, she said sadly, “But I am.”

  I hated her quick wit and her intelligent mind for coming up with something so accurate on cue. The girl was stubborn, I had to give her that, but she wasn’t indecisive. New York was what she wanted. Who was I to take that from her? But in the little time we had left, I’d make it my mission to show her she wanted me too.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I cradled her close where I wanted her worries about the future and what came next to melt away. My arms could be her safe place. But all my protection in the world wasn’t strong enough to guard what I worried about most.

  Our hearts.

  Stella

  The rest of my night with Jack was wonderful. The kind of wonderful that made you prance and twirl around your house singing from the rafters. Apparently, I’d been belting out American Idol audition style because when I closed the refrigerator door and spun around, Nina gawked behind me with her hands on her hips.

  “Wanna keep it down, Taylor?” I wasn’t sure if it was my poor attempt at sounding like Miss Swift or the dislike my sister had for the pop-star that caused Nina’s irritation.

  “Oops, sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  Pushing past me to re-open the fridge, Nina shook her head. “No, I was packing—like you should be—but Prince Charming in there passed out an hour ago and I got tired of listening to him snore.”

  Giggling as I sipped from my water bottle, I decided it might be a good time to solicit some sisterly advice. Nina and I had many differences, but when it came down to it she was the person I trusted most with anything. Especially my heart.

  “Speaking of Prince Charming, you have a few minutes?”

  Nina narrowed her almond shaped eyes, and scowled.
“I already don’t like the sound of this. Your face has bad news written all over it.” On further inspection of the giddiness I must’ve exuded, the light bulb popped on over her messy bun. “Actually, you’ve got lovesick puppy smeared across your face! What gives? Is this about Jack?”

  There were often times I didn’t even have to speak for Nina to know what was up. This was one of them. I wasn’t sure if that was or wasn’t to my advantage this time.

  “Yes, it’s about Jack.” It was impossible to say his name without smiling. Just the thought of him made my body warm and alert. He’d found a way to do the unthinkable—make me second guess everything. And I needed to talk to Nina about what that meant.

  Pulling my hand, she dragged me to the living area and pounced onto the couch, patting the cushion next to her.

  When I didn’t immediately succumb, she tugged my arm again and I fell onto the couch and into her trap.

  “You slept with him, didn’t you? What were you thinking, Stells? You’re leaving soon. This can’t end well. You have to know that!”

  I wanted to curse her for assuming the worst, but what stood out from her fast-fired warnings and mother-like scolding was what she said about it ending. The idea of an end to me and Jack made my stomach queasy. “Why does it have to end at all, Nina?”

  “Because you’re leaving! Don’t tell me he’s as crazy as his best friend and offered to come with us!” Nina could misconstrue anything into a Lifetime network drama.

  “No, you ass. He’s not coming with us. Although, I hadn’t even thought about . . .” I trailed off. Would it be the worst idea in the history of stupid ideas to even suggest such a thing?