Finding Fate: An Intense, Fast-Paced Romantic Suspense Novel

by Kennedy L. Mitchell

  "What?" He sighs and scrubs his face with the hand not holding his jeans up. "I'm not sleeping in clothes. I'll suffocate and die."

  "You did fine in—" The frustrated glare he shoots back stops me from finishing. "Right, sorry. Continue."

  "With you staring, I kind of feel like a stripper. Put on some music and I'll make it a real show, Pops."

  Burying my face in my hands, I shake my head. His laugh rumbles through the room, fueling the heat in my cheeks.

  After the sounds of him rustling around the sheets stops, I flip the light off and feel my way around the dark room.

  My shin slams into the side of the bed. "Ouch!" I cry out and fall to the mattress. The bed shakes from him laughing so hard, though no sound escapes. "Don't be a dick."

  "It's pretty damn funny."

  "Is not," I pout and stare into the dark.

  Chapter 27

  Fate

  Today

  Hmm. Thought the darkness would ease my nerves, but it's only amped them to unhealthy levels. Curling on my side, I put my back to him and squeeze my eyes shut. "Even before Destiny left, I was never the girl who dated a lot or anything like that. I was content with my books, computers and—"

  "Wide variety of vibrators."

  Hoping to hit him square in the face, I fling my arm out to the other side. My palm and forearm smack against skin, and he shouts at the surprise attack. Giggling, I roll over to face him. My eyes finally adjust to the dark and I find he's done the same.

  "I was going to say Mac."

  "Wait, did you two ever...?"

  "No, no. He's like a dad. Anyway, I did date, a couple guys here and there who I met through hacker friends or in the dungeon at the FBI."

  "This is why you say you're awkward?"

  "Yeah, that and none of the guys I dated were someone like you."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Hot. Funny. Caring more about me than getting back to their dumbass video game. Protective. Sweet. Do you want me to go on?"

  "Love for you to. Kind of need these affirmations after being shoved away the past twenty-four hours."

  My fingers skirt along the sheets, inching closer and closer to the warmth on the other side of the bed. "I wasn't the one shoving away in the truck."

  "Touché."

  "Anyway, after Destiny, I became so focused. The hate and anger drove away the few friends I had, even Mac. I became a hermit, really only working to pay the bills while doing research and digging every spare second. So on top of me being awkward, I'm really, really out of practice."

  I can almost feel his smile. "Well practice makes perfect, I always say."

  His skin is hot beneath my touch as I brush my fingers up and down his arm. Closing my eyes, I imagine his inked skin beneath them, memorizing each dip and curve of his bicep and forearm. "I don't think I'm very good at it."

  Strong fingers wrap around mine, stilling their movement. "Good at what?"

  "This. Flirting and sex." My cheeks burn so hot there’s legitimate concern that the pillowcase might catch on fire.

  "Well, Pops, let me help you get one thing straight. You're wrong." My laugh morphs into a gasp when he pulls on my arm, wrapping it around his waist. "I'll prove it to you, if you’ll let me."

  Let him? Hell yes, I'll let him. This is one thing I'd love to be proven wrong on. "Okay."

  "When it comes to this, Fate, it's either a yes or a no. If you say no, we go to sleep and I'll be happy holding you after months of dreaming about it. If it's a yes, I'll still get to do that, just in a few hours."

  "Hours?" I squeak.

  "I don't like to be rushed."

  Silence fills the room as he gives me time to decide, making sure he's not pressuring me into anything. Is that from having four younger sisters, or because it's me? Maybe a little of both.

  "Yes."

  The moment the word leaves my lips, I expect him to pounce. Instead he trails his fingers up and down my arm and side, building the anticipation with each pass.

  "What are you waiting for?" I whisper.

  "Question."

  "Now?"

  "Yes. Can I ask it?"

  "Sure."

  "Has a guy ever gotten you off?"

  "Nash." I groan and bury my face against his hard chest. "Why does that matter?"

  Rolling me, he turns on his side, putting us nose-to-nose as he rests a hand on my hip, fingers digging in. "Tell me." His brown eyes sparkle in the dark, making everything below quiver in response.

  "No."

  "Good."

  "Good?"

  "I want to be the first."

  "Oh." Not the brightest response. "You're pretty good at it, then, I guess. More practice." The images of him and other women flash through my mind. "I'm nervous."

  He slides his head back an inch to take in my entire face. "Why in the hell would you be nervous? It's just me. Just us. And yeah, maybe I've had more practice, but that doesn't take anything away from what this moment means to me. Hell, maybe I'm nervous too. I've been thinking about this, about you and me, hoping to have this chance to touch you." For emphasis, he slides his hand from my hip and tucks it between my pressed thighs. "Hell, I've dreamed about this. About where I would start in worshiping every inch of your incredible body. And now that you're here, your soft skin against mine, I'm lost."

  "Lost?"

  "Usually with women, it’s a drunk thing or spur-of-the-moment. I don't think I've ever been with someone when it...."

  I don't think I'm breathing. "When it what?"

  "Meant so much."

  "Oh." Again, not the brightest response, but it's all I can come up with. "I'm nervous that I won't live up to everyone else or what you've built up in your mind. I'm just me."

  And there it is. The truth. All my insecurities out, right here in this bed, hoping he looks past them and takes me for me.

  "Here's the thing, Pops. You just being you is all I've ever needed but hadn't found. You're more than enough for me for a lifetime and more. Don't ever think of yourself as less. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for." With a sigh, he leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. "Just let me prove it to you."

  "Yes," I respond against his lips, urging them closer. The kiss in the truck wasn't enough. It was only a spark to what could happen here in this bed. If what he's saying is true—no, what he's saying is true. I'm enough. "Show me."

  His devouring lips slam against mine, pressing me into the soft mattress. The casualness from earlier has evaporated, only pure hunger driving him. Yet I can sense him holding back, slowing down for me. His lips against mine last only a minute before they pull away to kiss and suck down the length of my neck.

  "All you have to say is stop," he murmurs against my skin. "If I go too far, too fast, we can stop."

  Stop? Seriously? Hell no, I'm not stopping him. This heat pouring through every pore, making the covers near suffocating, is new, wanted. So this is what all those romance novels were describing. Guess it wasn't all made up.

  Sweat beads as the room grows warmer and warmer with each pass of his lips. I kick the sheets off, the cool air allowing a few fretted breaths to fill my lungs until his teeth connect with the soft skin between my neck and shoulder. He chuckles at my yelp and holds me still with one hand on my other shoulder.

  "I'm doing what I can here," Nash groans. His fingers tighten on my shoulder as his teeth sink into my earlobe. "But...."

  "But what?" I somehow manage between panting breaths.

  "I don't want to scare you."

  "Scare me? I'm not a virgin."

  At the word, his teeth latch onto my shoulder before brushing soft kisses over each indention. "I know, but what I like might scare you. If I get too rough—"

  Eyes wide, I stare at the ceiling. "You like it rough?"

  Everything stills, tension hanging in the air as I wait for his response.

  "Yes." The shake in his voice causes my heart to skip a beat.

  Gra
bbing his face between my hands, I force those brown eyes to meet mine. "I'll tell you to stop if I can't take it, but right now?" Frustrated at the diminishing intensity from moments ago, I drop my head back to the pillow. "Don't stop."

  Not missing a beat, he grips the hem of my T-shirt and tugs. As the cotton creeps up the plane of my stomach, my heart rate increases, nearly beating out of my chest. "Wait."

  Those strong hands pause.

  "I...." Damn, how do I say this. How in this moment do I articulate the way I see, the way I feel about myself? Accurate self-image has never been a strong point. From my small breasts to my narrow hips, I'm not the type of girl he's surely been with, or even prefers.

  As if he's read every thought, he kisses my still-bare stomach and murmurs against my skin, "You're enough, Fate. Don't you ever fucking doubt that again. There, now I have two rules. Hopefully you'll be better at keeping this one than the former." The way his lips move across my fair skin tells me he's smiling.

  Faking confidence, I grab the bottom of the T-shirt and pull it off, finishing the job he started. I’m ready to drop it to the floor when he unfastens the clasps of my bra before reaching to cup one breast, then the other. The shirt and bra both float to the floor as I focus on every flex of his fingers against my skin.

  "Perfect. So damn perfect."

  At his words, a light I thought was gone, or maybe never existent until him, glows and builds.

  I am perfect. To him, I'm enough.

  The deep thoughts are dashed as his teeth lightly clamp around the soft tissue of my breast. Lips wrap around my peaked nipple, sending a bolt of arousal to my already-damp center with every flick of his tongue.

  A calloused hand skims down my side, brushing against the curve of my breast to the dip of my waist before gripping my hip. Flexing and tightening, his fingers inch lower and lower, pushing my pajama shorts farther down my thighs.

  Again the uncertainty slips back in, wondering if what he finds will be what he expects, what he's built up in his mind. But I push it out, focusing on the way his tight grasp makes me feel cherished, like I might slip through his fingers to disappear into the night.

  An animalistic growl vibrates between my breasts as his hand dips lower to grab my bare ass.

  "I never want this to end," he whispers as he kisses his way up my neck. When his soft lips reconnect with mine, his devil tongue dips back in to tease my own as his hand slips forward. There's no hesitation as his fingers search for the exact spot I'm dying for him to touch.

  Heat pours from his hand to me, making everything between my thighs hotter, and I’m desperate for more. I shift my hips back and forth, urging him faster and closer.

  "Nash," I whisper against his lips, my breath pushing against his. "Please."

  Everything stills. His lips. His fingers. His breathing.

  "Pops," he says with twinkling brown eyes. "I like you begging."

  The remaining covers are ripped from the bed, goose bumps sprouting down my legs, but I don't care. No, I'm too focused on his lips kissing from one hip bone to the other as my shorts slip farther and farther down my legs.

  The room spins when he pulls the shorts from my feet and settles between my thighs, kissing up the inside and inching closer and closer to where I'm terrified and desperate for him to focus.

  "Nash, you don't have to... I don't think I really like... this."

  His teeth nip at my inner thigh, a surge of want pulsing through my veins.

  "What's this?"

  "You, uh, down there," I stammer. "I've never liked—"

  "Oh, Pops. Just you wait."

  End of discussion apparently, since he goes back to the slow ascent to the apex of my thighs.

  Shit, do I fake it? Just so he doesn't get his feelings hurt? No guy has ever been able to—

  The warmth of his mouth enveloping my tiny bundle of nerves ends all internal debate.

  Yep. I like this. I was wrong. He was right. Not going to tell him that now, but later. Fuck yes, later.

  Everything fades as his tongue flicks and swirls, my hips moving and flexing, seeking more. My gasp fills the room when one finger slides in just below his tongue, pushing in and out. Unable to control my own body, I grab his long hair, pulling him closer.

  "Changing your mind?" he asks with a chuckle that sends a shiver up my spine, racking my shoulders against the bed.

  "Fuck yes," I groan.

  "Damn right."

  Faster and faster his finger moves inside me as his lips and tongue suck and tease. Breathing turns difficult as I chase the one thing no man has been able to accomplish with me. It hits fast, sending me slipping from reality, moaning his name along with a chorus of curse words.

  I stare at the ceiling, waiting for the thundering in my ears to subside, the slide of his lips against my skin, moving closer and closer, somehow grounding me.

  "Wow," I breathe. "Just wow."

  His chuckle against my neck sends another chill and a now-familiar quiver to my belly. "And we're just getting started. Ready for more?"

  "What did you mean by rough?"

  He groans and rests his forehead against my chest. "Just forget it, okay? You're perfect. I love your innocence."

  "Again, I'm not a virgin."

  "Fine, naïveté."

  "Not great, but more accurate."

  "It’s you."

  I almost ask if that's a compliment, but he rolls, pulling me to straddle him. Hands on his bare chest, I trace each curve of his naturally tan skin. Each ripple of his abs builds a now-familiar ache between my thighs. Both palms skim back up his stomach, his chest, to grip his shoulders. Through the dark, our gazes stay connected. He softly brushes his fingers up and down my spread thighs, from knee to hip bone and back again.

  "Why did you keep looking?"

  There's no falter in his movements as he says, "Careful, Pops. Your naïveté is showing again."

  "Huh?"

  "Nothing, I just had to, okay? I didn't have a choice."

  Not wanting to sound stupid again, I don't ask even though I have no idea what riddles he's spouting. The weight of the day and exhaustion from the past few months sweeps in fast. Unable to stay sitting, I lie against his chest with a deep sigh.

  Not missing a beat, he wraps his arms around my shoulder and back to pull me tighter against him.

  "Night, Poppy."

  "Good night, Nash."

  The fear of tomorrow’s debriefing fades with each thump of his heart in my ear. With each of his deep even breaths, a sense of belonging and stability sink in. Two feelings that haven't been present in a long, long time. Maybe even before Destiny left. And Nash somehow makes both brighter and stronger each minute he's around.

  I just hope it lasts.

  Chapter 28

  Nash

  Today

  Early morning light pours through the windows, but she doesn't stir beside me, wrapped around my chest, leg hiked over mine. The heat is near suffocating, but there’s no way in hell that I dare move. She's sleeping, comfortable—safe. Here. All night, she slept. And I did too, which is a new concept.

  Her soft lips are parted as deep, even breaths push warm air against my skin. And each time, a new grouping of goose bumps pops up along my skin, as well as causing my damn cock to grow harder than I ever thought could happen. And damn do my balls hurt. No doubt they're a unique shade of dark blue at this point.

  A ping from the phone beneath the pillow drags my attention from the beautiful woman in my arms.

  Raider: Heard from FBI. 10 am.

  Raider: Text me back so I know you're alive and not dead.

  Raider: Our boy has stopped his search for the guy tracking your girl. Says he's too good and doesn't want our systems compromised.

  Raider: What kind of shit has that girl gotten herself into?

  Me: Later. I'm alive, so is she.

  Raider: And you know that because she's lying beside you, right?

  Me: Maybe.

  Raider: Goo
d for you, man.

  Raider: Maybe with her back and safe, you can move on. We need you back. This shit’s not nearly as entertaining without you. Tex is boring as shit. All serious.

  Raider: How’s your sister, by the way? She said anything about me?

  Me: Fuck off, man, it’s my sister! Don't you dare go after one of them.

  Me: I don't know if I'm ready to come back, but if this bastard comes after her, I'm ready. No way in hell someone will lay a finger on her again.

  Me: Not while I'm around.

  Raider: Does she know what all happened?

  With a hesitant look down at my sleeping princess, I turn back to the phone.

  Me: No. Not sure how she'll react.

  Raider: Not good to keep secrets.

  Raider: I'd never keep secrets from your sister. Any of them, just let me have one. You have so many.

  Me: Fuck off, you bastard.

  Raider: You know I'd take care of her. In so many ways....

  Me: I just threw up in my fucking mouth. Stop it. You're talking about my sisters.

  Raider: Yep, and they're all hot as fuck.

  Raider: Come on, Snowflake, stop being selfish.

  Me: Are you coming today too?

  Raider: Yep, and Drake. He wants to see you, and see her. See what the fuss was about.

  Me: He just feels bad because he's the reason y'all had to wait so long to raid that damn camp.

  Raider: CIA motherfuckers always getting in our way.

  "Who in the hell are you talking to this early?" she groans against my neck and rolls over, putting her back to me. The earlier smothering heat fades, and I instantly want it back. The bed dips as I roll to my side and pull her naked back against my chest.

  Fuck.

  My morning wood, which had started to go down after Raider’s talk about my sisters, whips back to attention. No way she can't feel it throbbing against her ass. Her perfect bare ass. With a mind of their own, two fingers stroke lazily up and down her ribs. Each pass longer than the last, inching me closer to those perfect breasts and delicious center I want another sampling of.