Finding Destiny

by Christa Simpson

  I acknowledged his presence, but tried to act emotionless. It was extremely difficult. An overpowering inquisitiveness hung thick in the air between us as I dried the wetness from my mouth. I found myself in desperate need of oxygen, the room entirely starved of it as Edwin stepped up beside me.

  "We're gonna be okay," he said, his low, sexy growl cutting through the hazy air.

  I reached past him to put the bottle of mouthwash back where it belonged, and he didn't move out of my way. My sensitive sniffer caught a whiff of him again, as I nudged him aside to open the vanity door. Mmm. That scent.

  Edwin stood, unmoved, blocking my path to the door, making me brush past him to make my exit. As I walked away, he slowly followed, but stopped when he reached the hall. I pretended not to notice.

  "You are pretty messed up," he said, stopping me in my tracks.

  "Excuse me?" I spun around to face him, and my facial expression was cold and conceited.

  "Did you forget already?" He hoped for a stunned response and so I acted clueless, as my eyes locked onto his heated gaze.

  "I have no idea what you’re talking about." If he only knew that I wanted him to try me on for size, something fierce. But I knew what was good for me. I should stick to my original plan: evade, retreat and regroup. If I stayed away from Edwin I could move on a lot faster. So why wouldn't my feet move?

  "Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he growled. His arousal swarmed the air around me, like a group of angry bees, and burned, fiery hot, through my lungs.

  He took two long deliberate steps toward me, as I took one hesitant step backward. "I told you I would try again," he said, his voice sounding smooth and sexy as he progressively got closer.

  I should have turned and ran screaming for the stairs, but I could hardly make a peep. "I thought I had some time," I breathed, as his face drew near mine.

  He brushed past my cheek, his breath on my neck and his lips against my ear. "You thought wrong."

  My lashes fluttered shut, as Edwin slowly pulled away from my neck, his hand gently skimming across my cheek. I waited for his sensual attack, but it never came. I slowly opened my anxious, emerald eyes and looked up into his. His smile was soft and tantalizing, and his lips parted as he closed his eyes and titled his head for a kiss.

  I gasped for air and pulled back, stunning myself with my own willpower. "I can't, Edwin. We can't do this anymore." Though I so wish we could.

  "I realize we can't do this as a couple. But we’re both single, consenting adults. We’re free to do whatever we want."

  I cocked an eyebrow at him, preparing to playfully test his crisis negotiation skills. "Do I look like that kind of girl to you? I don't just sleep around with random men like that.”

  He returned inside my zone, his lips delivering an enticingly cunning smile, shaking my confidence. "I'm hardly some random guy."

  Yes! Yes! I thought, as Edwin’s cologne doused my senses. At that moment, with my own hormones raging, I was unable to formulate a sentence, let alone verbalize one.

  "It'd be just this once," he insisted. "No one even knows that we split. I want to… no I need to feel you, Abs. One last time. Admit it. You need it too.”

  Just the fact that I was thinking about it was stressful enough, and Edwin thought that was his answer.

  “What's the big deal?” he asked, smirking.

  "It's not healthy!" I stammered.

  "Get over it."

  "But I have to go to work," I uttered, partly hoping he would give up, so I could stick to my guns.

  "We don't usually leave for another half hour, at least. You know there's plenty of time for what I have in mind. Now quit with the excuses."

  On a harsh exhale, I let my guard down only for a second, and Edwin didn't waste the opportunity. He kissed me, his hot lips on mine. He kissed me again, his icy cool breath in my mouth.

  Stunned, I accepted the string of tantalising nibbles and devouring mouthfuls. Just last night I was worrying to myself that I may never find myself in this place ever again, and here I am the very next day wrapped in his amazing arms; his thorough hands exploring me with unguarded enthusiasm.

  My mind was done fighting, my body begged me to stop fighting and I couldn't fight Edwin off anymore, even if I wanted to. Did I want to? Hell no.

  I pushed Edwin off of me and he froze in confusion, until I started to slowly, seductively, unzip the back of my long, fitted skirt. After it slipped to the floor, I kicked it aside. I was standing there in the hallway, with my breasts bursting from my lacy push up bra and my g-string barely covering anything, and yet Edwin's gaze was still locked on my face. He was speechless.

  I knew this would be my last opportunity to touch him and so did my body. Together we intended to take full advantage of him.

  BUY TWISTED NOW!

  The Destiny cast returns in BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN.

  THE DESTINY SERIES: BOOK 2

  Matt is good at fixing things . . . but he quickly learns that people are a little more difficult to put back together.

  Matthew Knight is a ladies man. He’s as handsome as he is sinister, with a natural charm that wows the skirt off every woman he passes. Having already had a piece, Felicia knows how dangerous it can be getting too close to all that raw masculine power. If she’s learned anything from their scandalous weekend together, it’s that spontaneity leads to chaos. Still choking on guilt from his untimely accident, she refuses to let him in.

  Matt wants in, and he can be very persuasive. He will do anything to ruffle Felicia’s feathers and she will stop at nothing to hide how much she enjoys it every time he does. He refuses to surrender until she caves and gives him what he wants—what he’s wanted all this time—her.

  When the pair reunite, their chemistry explodes off the charts, but can Felicia harness her frozen emotions and resist him? Although Matt comes armed with all the right words, can he prove to her that she means more to him than another weekend rendezvous? Witness the power struggle and see who comes out on top.

  Available now!

  http://christasimpson.com/beautifully-broken

  BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN

  Prologue: Wake Me From This Nightmare

  My hands are freezing. It feels like my fingers might fall off if I don’t finish this job soon. It’s funny what a little bit of pussy can do to a man. Felicia has me eating out of the palm of her hand. She wants her friend’s truck fixed. I’m a mechanic. It only follows that I fix the truck, get her friend on the road and get Felicia and her wild ways back in my bed.

  I am so eager to get her alone again that I agree to an onsite visit. I open the door to my truck and the three of us cram in. I shift her into four-by-four and we set off past the place where I’d met Felicia a matter of hours earlier. It feels like a lifetime ago.

  Unlike the ladies, I’ve come prepared. Having lived up north my entire life, I’d learned a thing or two over the years. My tires are trimmed with chains. It isn’t considered very friendly on the local streets in town but, when driving out in the boons, it’s been really handy. Four-by-four is my best friend and has gotten me out of more than a few tight situations out here.

  Once we pass the spot where I had found the ladies, I slow my truck to a crawl. I know, in this weather, if I’m not careful, I could pass by their stalled vehicle without ever knowing it.

  Felicia cups a hand over her eyes to dim the shine from the snow. “I don’t see it anywhere. Are you sure this is the right place?”

  She questions my geography?

  “Yes, bright eyes. This is the place. I know these roads like the back of my hand. You must be along here somewhere.”

  I spot the truck first. No surprise there. “Ah. You see?”

  Felicia’s friend, Natalie, stares out the passenger window but still misses the truck. “I can’t see a single thing out there.”

  Natalie’s truck has been snowed over. It is literally covered to the roof, disguised as a pile of snow. We’d have passed it, mistaking it f
or a snow drift on the roadside, if I’d left it up to the girls.

  “You’re lucky we don’t get any traffic out here. You’re barely off the road,” I tell them, as I turn on my four-way lights and swerve to the opposite side of the road. I park directly in front of Natalie’s truck, while she babbles about her above average driving skills. Her truck is so snow covered that I can’t even tell what color it is. “This is you.”

  I pop my hood and tug on my hat. “Are you coming with me?”

  Felicia’s lower lip comes out in a pout. “Do I have to?”

  I can’t help but kiss her. Then I deliver the slanted smile that I know she loves. When she flutters those long dark lashes at me that settles it.

  “I can handle it,” I answer, wanting to be the man to take care of her. “But while you’re waiting in here, you’d better think about what you’re going to give me in exchange.” I raise my eyebrows, pry open my door and jump down from my truck.

  As soon as I close the door, Felicia has her finger on the power window button. She opens the driver’s side window and smiles at me. “Thanks, babe.”

  Natalie rolls her eyes. “Just fix my truck, please. We’ve done enough sitting around. I’d like to get on with my vacation already.”

  “Stop your moaning,” I insist. “I’ll have it up and running before you know it. I’m a bit of an expert. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m good at fixing things.”

  I give them a wink. I love the way my arrogance tickles them every time I throw it out there.

  “It’s kind of my specialty,” I add.

  Felicia smiles at me with those full, wide lips and starts to close her window. “I agree. Those fingers are special.”

  The window closes up before I can hear Natalie’s disgusted rebuttal, but Felicia’s words warm me enough to get me through the first five minutes of digging. After spending another five shoveling the front end of their truck out of a snow bank, I finally try the door.

  Locked.

  I swipe my gloved hand over the glass to clear the snow. I can see through the window that it’s locked. With a wave at the ladies, Felicia hops out of my truck and rushes to the door with keys.

  “Voila!” she cheers when she reaches him. She appears as relieved as me to be even just a little closer to leaving this place. She yanks on the frosty silver handle and her gloved hand slips off.

  “Here, let me get it,” I suggest, dusting the last bit of snow from it.

  She doesn’t seem to like that idea very much. “I think I can handle it.” She tries again, but it doesn’t work. She’s obviously a stubborn woman—determined, but stubborn.

  Knowing she isn’t going to be one to give up too easily, I make a brilliant suggestion. “Why don’t you put your back into it?”

  She glances at me through those dark lashes and it slices razor sharp across my heart. Felicia is a modern day fantasy, and she knows it. I watch her wrap her fingers around the handle once again and see the way she grips it with both hands, bending her knees this time. I can’t help but watch that magnificent ass when she’s sticking it out like that. She tries the door again with a swift pull and lands flat on that beautiful thing.

  I laugh. What? It’s funny. I can see that Felicia doesn’t agree with me. But she still has the icy, metallic handle in her palm.

  “Oh yeah?” she says, whipping the handle to the ground like she’s just scored a touchdown. She gets on her knees, gathers up an armful of snow and molds it into a huge ball. She closes her gloved hands around it and tosses it right at me. But I’m fast.

  I dive out of the way and collect up a ball of my own. I toss it before Felicia can even get to her feet. She screams just as the snowball connects with her face and bursts into flakes of snow that decorate her hair and eyelashes. Oh . . . she’s mad.

  I’m laughing so hard, I forget to dodge the snow flying at my head. She gets me flat on the forehead. It’s on now!

  “Matty, no!”

  I don’t listen. I run straight at her and tackle her back onto the ground into a pile of fluffy snow. I am hopeful she doesn’t get mad and it’s looking like I’ve done something right. She’s smiling and staring right into my eyes, with a beautiful laugh that lights up my life.

  I lean in until our lips meet. Those lips, all soft and warm; a guy can get lost in moments like this. I deepen the kiss, wishing her friend wasn’t around to tarnish what we could be doing if we were alone. Our tongues touch and Felicia whimpers softly.

  “Waaaaaaaaa,” wails the horn of my truck. “Waaaa, waaaaaaaaa.” Natalie has clearly grown impatient.

  I give Felicia another soft kiss before uncovering her body and pulling her up from the snow.

  “Now I’m soaked. You’d better get to work before I freeze to death,” she teases, not knowing the first thing about dressing for this type of weather.

  I pull off my snow glove, reach for the door, and wiggle my finger inside the hole where the handle once rested. I find the sweet spot and, click, pull open the door.

  “Ladies first,” I tease, holding the door for Felicia to hop in.

  “Aren’t you Mr. Perfect?” She sweeps past me, hops onto the seat and slides the key into the ignition.

  “Go ahead. Give it a try.”

  She turns it forward. “See? Nothing.”

  I smile when I hear the clicking noise. “I wouldn’t say nothing. The battery is still registering. That’s something.”

  Still, she starts to look worried. “Can you fix it?”

  “I can fix anything, baby.” I pull the black latch near her boot and hear the hood pop open. “This truck has to be closing in on twenty years. It’s no wonder the beater broke down on the side of the road. Whose brilliant idea was it to drive this animal?”

  “Don’t look at me. Natalie insisted that she drive. I even put up a fight, but I lost.”

  I cup Felicia’s cheek with my frozen hand. “I find that hard to believe.”

  She kneels on the seat and hovers over my mouth, smiling before closing in on me. She’s such a tease. Every kiss leaves me wanting more. Even in this cold weather she manages to wake the sleeping beast in my pants.

  “I’d better get to work,” I say, even though it’s the last thing I want to do right now.

  She kisses me again, like she wishes I didn’t have to go, then slides back onto her bottom.

  “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” she answers joyfully, as the door clicks shut between us.

  The snow crunches beneath my snowmobile boots, as I cover my bare hand with my glove. The hood lifts without any trouble, which is a relief. I tinker around until I find what appears to be the problem. I wipe the corrosion away from the battery and replace the cap. Honestly, the truck is a mess. It could be a host of things.

  I peer around the hood and catch Felicia rubbing her gloved hands together, even though she’s inside the truck. Those fashionable mitts do nothing but look pretty. Lucky for her, we should be out of here in a matter of minutes.

  “Give it a try,” I holler.

  She glances at me until the fog dissipates from my frosty words. She tries the key once, but the engine still doesn’t turn over.

  I hold up a hand to stop her, while I use my other to adjust the connections. Even with my snow gear on, it’s frosty. The snow starts to rain from the heavens, covering the road with a wave of white blankets. The hood of the truck had barely been blocking the wind, when suddenly a blast of snow whips around it and slices across my face.

  Felicia rolls down the driver side window and angles her head outside. “Need any help under there? Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working.” The wind makes her hair dance wildly around her pretty face.

  “I can always use your hands, doll. But not this time. I think I’ve got it. Give it another try.” I catch a look at her smile before she escapes from the blistery weather and reefs on the handle to roll up the window in the old truck.

  My smile grows infinitely when she revs the engine
to life.

  What did I say? Expert.

  I hear a loud wail of the horn and imagine that Felicia is celebrating, but then I jump from the loud crackle in the air. A resounding screech echoes through my ears and deafens me, as the truck’s hood seems to turn into the mouth of a crocodile and clamps down onto me like vicious jaws. The twisted wreckage wraps around me, and sandwiches my body precariously against my own truck.

  Pain sears through my side and bolts right into my foot, as I gasp for air that can’t seem to reach my lungs. Starved for oxygen, dizziness settles in, but it doesn’t even numb the pain screaming across every inch of my lower extremities.

  I’m moaning now. At least I think that’s me. It hurts so bad that I can’t even tell. I don’t know if a man can handle a pain like this. I think I’m going to die. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right about now.

  It feels like a waterfall of blood is spilling down my body and I’m suddenly very tired. I’m afraid to close my eyes, though. I’m fighting for a breath as it is. If I fall asleep, I’m afraid I might forget to breathe at all.

  With my next breath, it’s like I’ve been knifed in my ribs. Everything burns. It’s like a fire is engulfing my body and I’m going to fall into a sink hole that will take me straight to a lifetime of hell. Nothing is working as it should. Even my vision is blurry. All I see is red. Blood. It’s everywhere. It’s even in my eyes.

  If it weren’t for the steady shocks of electricity attacking my legs, I’d have believed that I didn’t have any extremities attached to me anymore. The pain. Someone make it stop!

  “Help!” I holler. I need someone to help me, but my voice sounds so weak. Is that me? “Help!” I shout again, but it’s barely audible and the tightness in my middle prevents me from taking a deep breath.