Must Be Fate: (Cody and Clover) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  His dick pulses, and I can tell he’s close. I’d let him come in my mouth if he wants to, but he touches his fingers to my chin and draws me up.

  “Come here.”

  I stand and he nudges me onto the bed. He grabs my hips and pulls me so my ass is right at the edge. His teeth graze my inner thighs and I shiver.

  “Mm,” he says. “I want to taste you.”

  I’m throbbing for him, my pussy positively aching. He works his way up with his tongue and his teeth, nipping at my skin, driving me insane. His tongue reaches my center, and he finds my clit almost instantly.

  I moan. “Holy shit, Cody, you make me crazy.”

  His tongue works up and down, literally making my toes curl. I grab the sheets and move my hips with his rhythm, panting as he devours me. He sucks on my clit and I shriek. It feels so fucking good.

  He stops with a suddenness that takes my breath away. I lift my head and he grins at me, his dimples showing beneath his stubble.

  “What do you want, baby?”

  “I want that cock in me.”

  “I want to hear you beg,” he says, still smiling.

  “Please,” I say, my voice breathy.

  He pulls my hips slightly off the bed, his hands holding my ass, and presses his cock close. He reaches over, grabs a condom, and slips it on.

  “Tell me again,” he says.

  “Please, baby.”

  “I love it when you beg me,” he says.

  “Take me,” I say, meeting his eyes. “You can have all of me.”

  He pushes his cock in, and I moan loudly. Standing beside the bed, his hands on my hips, he pounds me hard. I wrap my legs around him and let him set the pace. It doesn’t matter what he does. Short of him pulling out and walking away, I’m coming. Soon.

  “God, Cody, you’re so good,” I say.

  He keeps thrusting, every move bringing me closer to the edge. He’s thick and hot and powerful. I love seeing his cock move in and out of me, the cuts of his sleek muscles rippling as he fucks me. He’s so damn sexy.

  He stops, holding tight against me, his cock deep inside. His chest moves fast with his breath, his abs tight.

  “Turn over,” he says.

  He pulls out and I’m quick to obey. I get on my knees and look back at him over my shoulder.

  He climbs up on the bed behind me and grabs my hips, sliding his cock in. “Keep your hips up, but put your chest down.”

  I bend at the waist, lowering my upper body to the bed, and keep my ass in the air. He pulls halfway out and pushes in again. Oh my god, this angle. He thrusts in and out, and it’s like magic.

  “Fuck, yes,” I say, panting.

  “Do you want it harder?” he asks.

  “As hard as you want,” I say. “Fuck, Cody, this is good.”

  “God, Clover, I love the way you feel,” he says between thrusts. “You’re perfect.”

  He pounds me harder, and my thoughts flee. I can’t think of anything but this man and his cock moving in and out of me. He works me into a frenzy, my body on fire.

  His cock pulses and I let out a low moan.

  “Make me come,” I say. I’m desperate, aching for release, every thrust driving me crazy. “Please, baby.”

  Cody pulls out and I gasp. He flips me onto my back and wastes no time climbing on top of me and plunging in again.

  “I want to see your face,” he says. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  He leans down and kisses me, his mouth hungry. I open for him, parting my lips, widening my legs.

  He quickens his pace, fucking me with fury. I’m flying, every move he makes sending me higher.

  “Are you ready for this, baby?” he asks. His breath comes fast and his chest glistens. “I want you to come with me.”

  “Oh god, Cody, I’m ready when you are.”

  He speeds up and the tension builds, my core muscles contracting. I feel my climax building, growing from deep inside. It’s like an orgasm on another level, something I’ve never felt before.

  “Don’t stop,” I say. My eyes flutter closed, my mouth open. It’s so good, I can barely stand it.

  Cody keeps going, then slows down, burying his cock deep into me. He bottoms out with every stroke, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my whole body.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “God yes, do it,” I say.

  He explodes inside me, his cock throbbing. Each pulse is a jolt of electricity, lighting me up. I come in a rush, the pleasure so intense I almost can’t breathe. It goes on and on, like it will never end, wave after wave rolling through my body. I cry out, holding nothing back, gripping the sheets as he pours into me.

  The shockwaves subside and Cody looks down at me. We’re both breathing hard. He leans down and kisses my neck, moves up to my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck, reveling in the feel of his mouth on my skin, his tongue brushing my lips.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly.

  I lean my head back to look at him and smile. “Me too.”

  Clover does eventually sleep at her place—with me, usually. We settle into a routine of seeing each other most nights after work. It’s rare that we sleep apart, instead crashing together at my place or hers. Sometimes she lets herself into my house before I get home, and makes dinner. I love coming home and seeing her car in my driveway. I walk in the door and she’s there, that brilliant smile lighting up the room. She rushes into my arms and I kiss her mouth, her cheeks, her neck. I pick her up, grabbing her tight ass, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Sometimes we stop and have dinner. Other times we’re too busy tearing our clothes off and fucking wherever we end up. It doesn’t matter. Food can always be reheated.

  Weeks go by; the summer cools into fall. The tourists fade away, only filling the town on weekends. Clover’s job seems to be going well. I stop by often, grabbing lunch at the café when I know she’s working. Customers get to know her, and she learns the names and favorite drinks of all the regulars. Despite her worries about being clumsy, she never seems to have any trouble. People love her.

  After a while, I stop keeping my relationship with Clover a secret at work. There are a few days of whispered conversations among my staff before it quiets down—or at least the whispers are all behind my back so I no longer hear them. James even asks how we’re doing, so I figure he’s not as concerned about how it might look. I find myself working less than usual—going in later, and leaving earlier in the evening. It makes it harder to keep up with everything, but I’m enjoying my time with Clover so much I try not to worry about it.

  I’m still struggling to figure out what’s going on with Lyle Brown. His blood work comes back, but I don’t find anything conclusive. I rule out several worrisome possibilities, but I’m not any closer to a definitive answer. I have my nurse call him to schedule more tests. I hope we can find a clue as to what’s happening to him.

  I close Lyle’s chart and open my email. I have that medical conference coming up, and there’s an email with the agenda. Truth be told, most of it looks pretty dull, but there are a few sessions I’m interested in. Clover’s coming with me, so I decide to search for some restaurant possibilities. It’s in Portland, and there are a lot of great choices. I want to take her somewhere nice.

  My phone dings with a text from her. Hey sexy. Do you still have patients?

  I can’t help but smile. I open my calendar and check my schedule. It’s four o’clock, and my last patient was at three. It’s unusual, but it’s also Friday, and I can’t say that I mind.

  No more patients today. Are you off work?

  Her reply is almost instantaneous. Come outside.

  Wondering what she’s up to, I head out to the parking lot.

  I’m greeted by the rumble of a very loud engine. I don’t see Clover’s car anywhere. The engine revs a few times and a motorcycle pulls up to the curb. The driver takes off her helmet, releasing a mass of blond curls.

  Clover smiles, looking positivel
y giddy as she turns off the engine.

  “What the hell is this?” I ask.

  “I borrowed it from a friend at work,” she says. She puts the helmet down and clasps her hands together. “I have the best idea.”

  “I hope it involves someone else picking up this deathtrap and you driving home with me,” I say.

  Clover swings her leg over the side and gets down. “No, we’re going on a road trip.”

  “On that?” I ask. “No.”

  “Yes,” she says. “Right now. Let’s just take off.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask. “I can’t just leave.”

  “You said you don’t have any more patients,” she says. “But I actually knew that already because I called Darcy at the front desk before I texted you. She said you’re free for the rest of the afternoon.”

  I want to be annoyed that she called Darcy to ask about my schedule, but it’s actually pretty sweet. But a motorcycle? “Clover, do you know what happens to someone in a collision on one of those things? It’s bad. You don’t walk away from that.”

  “I have helmets,” she says. “Come on, Cody. You have to take risks sometimes.”

  I rub my chin. “This is crazy. Where do you want to go?”

  “I’m not telling,” she says. She bites her lower lip as she smiles at me, and bounces up onto her toes.

  “Clover…” I’m trying to think of a good reason not to do this, but I’m not coming up with anything.

  “Come on,” she says. “The weather is supposed to be dry for the next week at least. There’s no reason you can’t leave work. I’m off until Monday. Let’s do this. It will be so fun. I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip on a motorcycle.”

  “Do you even know how to drive that thing?” I ask.

  “Of course I do,” she says, like she can’t believe I’d even ask.

  I cross my arms. Part of me hates this idea. Motorcycles are dangerous as shit. I went through a phase during med school where I drove one, but after treating my first motorcycle crash victim during my residency, I sold it.

  But Clover gets on and arches her back. The way she looks straddling the seat is too hot for words.

  “Come on, baby,” she says. “You know you want to. I’ll even let you drive.”

  I glance over at my car. “How about I meet you back at my place and I’ll think about it?” I ask. “If we take off, I need to grab some stuff from home anyway.”

  “Nope,” she says, and licks her lips. “I already packed everything we’ll need. Let’s go. Now.”

  My back is tense, but she curls a finger, beckoning me closer. Her lips part in a dazzling smile.

  “You know you want to,” she says. “I promise, you’re going to be glad you did.”

  I groan and step off the curb.

  Clover squeals and gets off the bike, then pulls me in for a kiss. She takes off my tie and unbuttons the top two buttons on my shirt. She stows my tie in a bag she has strapped to the back, and produces my sunglasses and a casual jacket. She slides the glasses on my face and messes up my hair.

  “There,” she says, adjusting my open collar. “So hot.” She hands me a helmet and I put it on. She dons sunglasses and the other helmet, and we both climb on the bike.

  Clover wraps her arms around me. It’s been a while, but driving it is like … well, like riding a bike. It all comes back to me in seconds. I take it easy as we drive through town, but when we get to the highway, I open it up a little. The wind rushes past, the engine purrs beneath me, and Clover holds me tight.

  I don’t want to admit it, but it’s kind of fucking awesome.

  We stop at a random hotel for the night, and Clover still doesn’t tell me where we’re going. Taking off with no plans is so far outside my comfort zone, but with Clover it’s more exciting than stressful. The hotel sucks, but it only makes us laugh. In the morning, we get up early and continue on our drive. Clover consults her phone and tells me to keep heading east across the mountain pass.

  On the east side of the mountains, we stop for lunch at a little roadside café. The waitress brings us club sandwiches.

  “So, are you going to tell me yet?” I ask.

  She bounces in her seat, pursing her lips, her eyes sparkling. “Okay, fine. We’re going to the Gorge.”

  The Gorge Amphitheater is an incredible outdoor concert venue. I haven’t been to a concert there in years. “What’s going on at the Gorge?”

  She smiles again, looking like she might burst. “I got us tickets to see Sweet Water.”

  My mouth drops open. It’s a Seattle band I was into years ago. How does she even know that? I might have mentioned it once, but I’m stunned she remembers. “Sweet Water? I didn’t even know they were still around.”

  “I know,” she says. “I heard about a month ago that they got back together and are playing the Gorge. You told me once that you used to be into their music. You said you wished you could see them play live again, because they were really good and you had such a great time at their last concert. So when I heard about this, I bought us tickets. It’s been so hard to keep it from you.”

  Her thoughtfulness disarms me. One little conversation, and it sparks this crazy road trip. All for me.

  “Clover, you’re amazing,” I say.

  She smiles brighter and I lean across the table to kiss her.

  The concert is fantastic. They play a mix of the old songs I remember and new stuff that’s really good. We have a few beers, and I get a little buzzed from all the people smoking weed around us. Clover is fucking adorable, jumping to the music and screaming with the crowd.

  It’s late when we finally find a hotel room after the concert. The next morning, we get back on the road. The weather is great, if a little cold with the wind rushing by, and we fly down the freeway. Despite my initial hesitance, I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in months. Or maybe years.

  Turns out, it feels great to throw caution to the wind and do something unexpected. I’m a guy who tends to do things by the book, but I like how Clover’s making me see the world in a new way. I never would have bothered getting concert tickets for a venue five hours away, let alone turning it into a road trip on a motorcycle. But this is just what I needed.

  Maybe Clover is, too.

  The last few months have been completely fantastic. Since taking Cody to the concert, I’ve come up with more ways to surprise him, although nothing quite as crazy as borrowing a motorcycle for a road trip. He won’t admit it, but I know he had fun driving it. He looked hot as hell, too. His responsible doctor look is super sexy—he’s always so put together with his adorable button-down shirts and ties—but messing him up a little was fun, too. I like to keep him on his toes.

  One Wednesday, I convince him to leave work early so we can go to a movie, but I insist on sitting in the back so we can make out like teenagers. About a month later, I let myself into his house before he gets off work. When he comes home, I greet him from his dining table, wearing nothing but a few dollops of whipped cream and a well-placed cherry.

  That’s definitely one I’ll do again.

  Another night, we have a few drinks and I convince him to break into his neighbor’s backyard while they’re on vacation so we can sit in their hot tub. The risk of getting caught is thrilling as hell, and we have some amazing sex. He wakes up the next morning worried they might have a surveillance camera.

  Early one November morning, I head to work. It’s still dark, and the clear sky is peppered with stars. Natalie isn’t in the café when I get there. That’s unusual. The crowds have thinned out even on weekends, but she’s still usually here before me, baking the day’s batch of muffins. Instead, the whole place is empty. It’s a Thursday, so I know it won’t be too busy, but we always have fresh baked goods.

  I text Natalie to see if everything is okay, and wait about five minutes for her to answer. I don’t get a response. I stand near the front counter, eyeing the kitchen. I don’t have a lot of time before I have to turn
on the open sign, but it’s enough to get a batch of muffins in the oven. I’ve never baked for the café before—and for all I know Natalie is bringing something from her kitchen at home—but I decide not to take a chance.

  I find all the ingredients in the back, and whip up the muffin batter. I get the first batch in the oven and have to open the café. My early morning customers wander in and I get them coffee, chit-chatting with them like I always do.

  The muffins come out, and I stock the case. Still no word from Natalie. There aren’t many customers, so I’m doing fine on my own, but I’m worried that something is wrong. I duck into the kitchen for a moment and call her.

  “Clover, I’m so sorry,” she says as soon as she answers. “My father had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night and I’m still here. I lost track of time. Are you at the café?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I say. “I baked some muffins. I hope that’s okay.”

  Natalie makes a little noise. I think she might be crying. “Thank you so much. Yes, that’s more than okay. I’m so sorry you’re there on your own. Harold can’t be there until ten. Can you handle everything until then?”

  To be honest, I’m not sure if I can handle everything for three hours, but Natalie sounds like she’s falling apart. I’ll just have to deal. “Yes,” I say, trying to sound confident. “I can handle it until Harold gets here.”

  “Clover, I owe you for this,” Natalie says. “You can tell people we don’t have breakfast today because there’s no cook. It’s just one day, and it shouldn’t be too busy.”

  “Don’t worry, Natalie,” I say. “I’ve got this.”

  I hang up, blow out a breath … and realize I feel the tingle. Fate. It’s trying to tell me something, but I’m not sure what.

  I don’t have time to ponder. A few more customers come in, wanting coffee, and I sell some of the muffins. They’re still warm, and I even get a nice compliment. It’s slow enough that I prep some things for breakfasts, in case anyone orders something. My hands are a little jittery, but luckily I don’t drop anything.