Simple Twist of Fate: Fated, Book 3

by Karen Erickson

  “You must really like him. What’s his name again? Brett might know him, considering he’s a paramedic. They work together all the time.” Mia whipped her phone out of her purse. “I should text Jenna his name and have her ask Brett if he has any dirt.”

  “No.” Morgan shook her head. “Don’t bother her. Please. She’s on her getaway weekend. They’re probably boinking like bunnies as we speak.”

  Mia laughed and shoved the phone back into her purse. Thank God. Morgan really didn’t want to know the dirt on Evan. What if Brett really had some? She didn’t want to hear the bad stuff, if there was any.

  Right now she was too enraptured with the good stuff.

  “They’re probably sleeping off the marathon of boinking they had last night,” Mia said, still giggling. “I bet she comes back with a ring.”

  “I bet she will too.” Those two were so in love it was almost sickening.

  Mia sighed. “I hope they have a big wedding. We could be bridesmaids.”

  “And wear a hideous dress walking on the arm of some creep? No way.” Morgan had experienced being a bridesmaid in a few weddings. All of them near disastrous in one way or another. Bad dress, bad partner walking down the aisle—oh and the time she had to round up the small children scattering rose petals along the aisle.

  One of them had ended up puking rose petals on the hem of her dress. It had been a minor nightmare.

  “Please. Jenna would make sure we look fabulous and all of Brett’s friends are hunky firefighters. We’d be walking on the arm of a stud and you know it.”

  The idea of hanging out with a hot firefighter would’ve literally lit her fire only a week ago. Now she wasn’t interested.

  She wanted Evan.

  “I’m not interested in hunky firefighters.”

  Mia smirked and shook her head. “Aw, you are so cute. You really have it bad, don’t you?”

  Morgan shrugged. Should she admit just how bad she had it? She didn’t want to. Not yet.

  She wanted to savor it a little longer. The giddy excitement filling her over seeing him later, the rush of nerves and lust at the memory of what happened between them last night in his truck. His hands all over her, his mouth fused with hers, their tongues dancing. The slick, delicious slide, the taste of him, the rough sounds he made, his heated breath.

  Oh, God. She really, really had it bad.

  Evan was a patient man. His mother had praised him for that particular trait when he was young and dealing with his always impatient and bossy older brother. As life went on, he’d waited for the best opportunities to fall into his lap. He would always bide his time and, when the moment was right, he jumped on it. The method had worked for him his entire life.

  Tonight, at this very moment, with the beautiful and obviously nervous Morgan at his side, he struggled. Forget the formality and the carefulness and the not wanting to scare the hell out of her. Patience sucked.

  He wanted her.

  Naked and beneath him, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers stroking his skin. He wanted to hear her murmur hot words in his ear, wanted to feel the silky clutch of her around his cock, wanted to come inside her until he was spent and bone weary. He wanted to hold her close and fall asleep with her in his arms.

  Instead he tiptoed around her, not wanting to make her even more nervous than she already was. He’d arrived with two bags full of snacks from the supermarket and she’d laughed in delight at his choices, saying she rarely indulged in such a junk fest. Yet she’d dove right in, opening the bag of tortilla chips and pouring salsa into a small bowl so they could share.

  They picked an action flick to watch on pay-per-view but he couldn’t pay attention. He was too enraptured with her scent, the heat radiating from her lithe body, the way she curled her fingers into the pillow she clutched in front of her, especially during a particularly tense scene. He sat on the other end of the couch, not too close but not so far away it was obvious he was trying to keep his hands off her. He didn’t want to look too pushy, too much like an animal. He’d already proven that last night when he mauled her in his truck.

  Hell, he really wanted to maul her again. Forget trying to be the good guy. One look at her in those soft black pants that clung to her legs like a second skin and a pale yellow T-shirt and he was a goner.

  The movie was over and he followed her into the kitchen, the fresh floral smell of her hair making his eyes cross. She grabbed the salsa container from the refrigerator and popped the lid, ready to pour the rest of the salsa they didn’t finish back into the plastic bowl.

  “I liked that movie.” She opened a drawer and pulled a spoon out of it, then began scraping the leftover salsa back into the container. “I’m not usually one for nonstop action, but it was good.”

  “Yeah, it was.” If asked at gunpoint what the plot of the movie was, he couldn’t remember it. He’d been too busy watching her.

  He was still watching her. She was his newest and most exciting form of entertainment.

  “Should we get another movie? Do you maybe want something else to eat? You brought enough to feed an army.” She smiled and snapped the lid back onto the salsa and he stepped toward her, grabbing for the grocery sack still sitting on the kitchen island so he could take a peek inside.

  Maybe eating would take his mind off her.

  Fat chance.

  She went behind him, going for the refrigerator and he turned around at the very moment she reached out with the salsa. Her hand went into his chest and the lid plopped off, spilling salsa down the front of his shirt.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. You must think I’m an imbecile.” She wiped at his T-shirt, drops of salsa falling onto the tile floor and he stood there, both bemused and aroused. His shirt was soaked and the spicy smell of the spices, tomatoes and onions filled his nostrils.

  Morgan ran to the sink and grabbed a dry washcloth. Turning on the water, she ran it under the spigot, talking a mile a minute, apologizing again and again.

  “I swear you always walk into trouble when you’re with me. Or I walk into trouble. This is so not good. I ruined your shirt, didn’t I?”

  He didn’t bother answering. Tugging it up and off over his head, he rolled it into a soggy ball and set it on the island, then grabbed a napkin and wiped the dampness that seeped through off his skin. It was doubtful she had a shirt his size to wear for the rest of the evening.

  Doubtful even more she’d feel comfortable with him sitting around bare-chested while they watched another movie.

  “Let me clean you up.” She whirled around to face him, the wet washcloth clutched in her hand. Her eyes widened as she drank him in, her gaze wandering over his half naked state and yep, there it was. A flare of interest, a hint of simmering heat.

  “Um.” Her hand fell, hanging limp at her side. The washcloth was so drenched it dripped water on the floor. “You, uh…you took off your shirt.”

  “It was covered in salsa.”

  She took a step toward him. “I’m sorry.”

  Evan smiled. She looked ready to pounce on him. And if that was the case, he didn’t want her to apologize. “It’s no big deal.”

  “I can wash it for you.” She waved a hand toward a doorway to the right. He saw the washer and dryer within the tiny space and figured it was the laundry room. “So you’ll have a shirt to wear when you leave.”

  “How long will that take?”

  Her gaze met his once more, her brown eyes wide and unfathomable. “Um, a couple of hours, tops.”

  “I’ve got all night,” he drawled.

  Her cheeks flushed and she came closer, reaching for the balled up T-shirt on the island. Her breasts brushed his bare arm, a fleeting touch that had him reacting in an instant. Hard cock, tight skin, heat flashing through his veins.

  Curling his hand around her upper arm, he stopped her. She lifted her head, her eyes meeting his and he tugged her closer. “I don’t want to watch another movie,” he whispered.

 
; She visibly swallowed. “What do you want to do?”

  “Come here and I’ll show you.” Yeah, his patience was flying right out the window.

  The washcloth fell to the floor with a loud plop and he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her so she sat on the edge of the island. She shrieked when he picked her up, her hands settling on his shoulders, fingers curling into his skin. He savored the caress, the way she felt in his arms.

  If she didn’t watch it, he’d take her right where she sat. They were in perfect position and he could imagine his hands clutching the edge of the counter, his cock slamming into her again and again as she writhed naked on the cold, hard granite countertop…

  Her lips parted and before she could utter a word he kissed her. Her lips were soft, hot and wet against his, and she tasted so damn good he gave a rough sound of pleasure when her tongue snuck into his mouth. He tightened his arms around her slender waist, his hands sprawled wide across her back and he tugged her closer. She slid toward him easily across the slick granite surface, and she shivered against him.

  “I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he murmured against her neck after he broke their kiss. He nuzzled her there, absorbing her softness, her sweet, slightly musky scent.

  She wound her arms around his neck, her hands sinking into his hair. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me too.”

  They’d wasted at least two hours when they could’ve been doing this from the start. “Did you spill the salsa on purpose?”

  “No.” She tugged on his hair so he had no choice but to meet her gaze once more. “I would never do that. You must think I’m a complete idiot though.”

  “Not at all.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her nose. “But it was a smart tactic.”

  Before she could protest he slanted his mouth over hers again, consuming her. He slipped his hands underneath her shirt, encountering bare, smooth flesh and he stroked her flat stomach, felt an unmistakable tremble move through her.

  Did she only want kisses? He wanted to give her so much more. She felt so good in his arms, her hot little body leaning toward him, her fingers tight in his hair. Their tongues tangled, her hands slid down his pecs, across his stomach and his cock twitched in response.

  “Watch it,” he warned when he pulled away from her to catch his breath. “I’m hanging on the edge here.”

  She smiled shyly, a complete contrast to her sly fingers wreaking havoc as they stroked down his stomach. His entire body quivered at her touch, and he released a shuddering breath when she curled her hand around the waistband of his jeans. Her knuckles brushed against the sensitive flesh of his lower belly and his cock surged in response.

  “Morgan. Sweetheart.” He tried to jerk away but her grip was surprisingly firm. “If you don’t stop those wandering hands we might have a problem.”

  “Oh?” She met his gaze, all coy seductress and his brows rose. This was quite different from the responsive yet full of regret woman he had in his truck last night.

  He liked it.

  “And why is that?” she asked when he didn’t respond. And how could he respond, what with the way she was stroking his cock. Her touch burned through the cotton of his boxer briefs and he swallowed hard, his lids fluttering when she cupped his balls and gave them a squeeze.

  “Because this good time might end before it really began. And we don’t want that, do we?”

  She immediately withdrew her hand, looking contrite. “No, we most definitely don’t.”

  Evan laughed and shook his head. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her off the kitchen island and she landed on her feet. “Come on.” His voice lowered. No way could she mistake his intent. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”

  Morgan entwined her fingers with his. “I’ll give you an up close and personal tour of my bedroom.”

  “Sounds perfect."

  Chapter Five

  Morgan led him down the narrow hall toward her bedroom, their hands clasped, palms pressed tight against each other. Her entire body tingled in anticipation and she stole a look at Evan from over her shoulder, smiling a little when she saw the raw intensity in his hooded gaze as he watched her. His lean, hard body vibrated with a potent sexual energy, and she suddenly felt dizzy.

  And full of doubt. What was she getting herself into? She’d never moved this fast before. No, more like she was the type who had to take it slow, who had a certain pattern leading up to the whole sex thing. First three dates all ending with nothing beyond a good night kiss. Fourth date and if she was still interested, maybe she’d allow a bit of petting—over clothes, of course. If things were cruising along smoothly, by the sixth date she was ready to do the deed albeit nothing too wild and crazy.

  It always, always went that way. Since she’d graduated from college she rarely deviated from the plan. Jenna told her more than once it was pathetic and had loved teasing her when Morgan went through that Internet dating phase. Mia sympathized—she was just as anal. And she’d probably had a similar plan until she met Jake and he turned her world upside down.

  Morgan frowned. Just like Evan was turning her world upside down. Her life hadn’t been normal since Don smacked her in the head with the restaurant door…

  He stopped her just as they entered the bedroom and somehow she found herself pressed against the wall just beside the door, their hands still locked together. He stood directly in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body radiating, wrapping all around her.

  She reached out and rested her hand on the center of his very wide and very hard chest. His heart beat true and strong beneath her palm, perhaps a bit quicker than usual, which she liked. That she had this much power to affect him so…

  It was a heady feeling.

  Her fingers curled and she scraped her nails lightly down his chest, tangling briefly in the scant hair that grew in the center, learning every dip and nuance of his firmly packed abdomen. He had a body worthy of a prime athlete, rippling muscles and tight sinew. The faintest tremor ran through him beneath her touch and she smiled, letting her hand rest on the waistband of his jeans. Lifting her pinky finger, she drew it along the line of dark hair that led from his navel and disappeared beneath his jeans.

  She could touch him all night. The thrill of unsnapping his jeans, the zipper loud in the quiet of the room when she tugged it down, she heard the hitch in his breath when she spread the gaping denim wide, revealing gray cotton.

  And a rather impressive erection strained against the front of it.

  Tracing the length of him, her heart beat rapidly at what she was about to experience. He was big. And heavy. His hips lifted in a subtle gesture yet he didn’t say a word and she delved her hand inside his briefs, encountering hot, hard yet soft skin. A rough sound of pleasure escaped him, a hissed inhalation of breath but otherwise he still said nothing.

  God. It was actually hotter that no words were spoken. She could silently marvel at the gift before her. With her free hand, she tugged on his jeans, making them fall to about mid-thigh. His underwear followed and soon he was toeing off his shoes, kicking out of his clothes, shedding his socks until he stood before her completely naked.

  And she was still completely clothed.

  “Got me where you want me?”

  Morgan glanced up to find Evan watching her, one eyebrow raised, barely restrained heat filling his eyes. He didn’t look embarrassed in the least to be on such blatant display. “Not exactly.”

  His eyebrow rose even further, and she curled her hands into fists. Reaching out, she pushed at him and he stumbled back from her, a surprised expression on his face.

  “Get on the bed,” she commanded, secretly surprised at her bossy ways. There was something about how he looked at her, did exactly what she wanted without being a wuss that captivated her. Made her feel in control, in charge of her sexuality rather than always relying on the man to make the move.

  With a chuckle he turned and went to the bed, giving her a mouthwatering view of his most impressive
backside. It was tight and firm, his thighs large and muscular. Oh, and his back. Broad shoulders that narrowed into lean hips and the two shallowest dimples just above his ass…

  Evan turned and collapsed on the bed, the epitome of the casual, going-nowhere reclining man albeit naked as the day he was born. He clasped his hands behind his head, a smirk on his face as he lounged against the pile of pillows at the head of her bed. His cock was thick and standing at full attention, arcing toward his body nearly to his belly button and she realized she stood there staring at him like a dumbass.

  “What are you waiting for?” His voice was soft but held an edge of steely command. “Get undressed, Morgan.”

  The tables had turned, just like that. Hurriedly she shed her T-shirt and yoga pants, then slithered out of her panties and unhooked her bra. He crocked a finger as soon as she was stripped, all come-hither sexiness. She went to him, gasping in surprise when he tugged her down with one jerk of his fingers about her wrist. Collapsing on top of him, he moved quick, spinning her around so she lay sprawled on the bed, her legs spread, his body nestled intimately between them.

  Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the predatory glow in his gaze, the way his eyes wandered over her face, drinking in her every feature. She wrapped her arms around him, one hand clasping the back of his neck, the other sliding down his back. Marveling at his smooth, hot skin, the way he felt rubbing against her. Hard upon soft, deliciously hairy where she was smooth. Time hung suspended as they stared at each other, her breath stalled in her throat and she pressed ever so gently against his nape.

  He attacked her. Devoured her with his mouth, licked at her with his tongue and his hands were everywhere all at once. The urgent press of his cock against her belly drove her on and she whimpered with need, yelping when he pinched her nipple so hard it hurt.

  “You like that?” Bending down, he lapped at her still smarting nipple with the tip of his tongue. “Or did I hurt you?”