Destined - The Austin Series Prequel

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Copyright © 2014 C. J. Fallowfield

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author

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Copyright © 2014

Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by
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Editing by Ella Marie

Gabe Austin is tormented by
demons from his past. Blaming himself for his part in a tragic
accident and abandoned by his father when he needed him most, he
uses his charm, good looks and ripped physique to find temporary
solace in an abundance of one night stands. Dominating, distant,
and unwilling to commit, sex becomes his outlet for his pain. Until
he sees
her.
One glance was all it took to turn his world
upside down, to make him want to possess her completely. Gabe just
knew that she was the girl to heal his shattered heart, she was his
destiny.

Destined is a short novella
written from Gabe’s point of view. It details key moments in his
life, leading to the events that unfold in ‘New Leaves, No
Strings’, book one of

The Austin Series, which
combines erotica, romance and humour.

You can find out more about me
and The Austin Series by clicking the following links:

http://www.cjfallowfield.co.uk

https://www.facebook.com/cjfallowfield

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7807992.C_J_Fallowfield

Present Day

Eleven Years Ago

Six Years Ago

9 Months Ago

One Week Ago

Yesterday

Back to the
Present

I stared at the
brunette beauty in front of my eyes and gently clasped her face,
her blue eyes met mine and it felt like she could see all the way
into my soul. She saw the shame, anger and guilt buried deep inside
me, yet she didn’t turn away. Instead she clutched my shoulders,
drawing me closer, as her full lush lips parted and softly brushed
over mine. I groaned into her mouth as we gently kissed, all the
while my stomach was doing somersaults that I’d never experienced
until I clapped eyes on her.

My whole body ached with
desire. I’d fucked hundreds of women before her, blondes, red
heads, tall, short, skinny, plump, the odd brunette, yet I hadn’t
felt this level of magnetism with a single one, until now. We were
opposite poles destined to be attracted to each other, the odds of
finding her had to be one in a …
billion,
yet here she was
in my arms, willing me to taste her, caress her,
possess
her.

I took her over with deep
plunges of my tongue into her warm mouth, as I slid one hand to the
nape of her neck, holding her to keep her from escaping. My other
gently clutched her throat, my thumb caressing her jaw as she
melted in my arms. Damn it, I was feeling things from kissing her
that I hadn’t even felt from sex with other women. What was she
doing to me? I heard her softly moan my name, which made me groan
again, I felt it to my very core. I reluctantly pulled away and
tore my t-shirt over my head. I felt a surge of pride when she
gasped as her eyes roved hungrily over my solid pecs and bulging
oblique’s. Her body looked exquisite too, she had curves in all the
right places and the way those jeans clung to that rounded backside
made me quiver in anticipation of being able to caress it. I needed
her naked, right now.

She looked up at me through her
long lashes as her lips parted and her chest heaved, while I slowly
unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders. She was bare
chested and my cock surged at the sight of her perfectly formed
pert breasts, with peaked soft pink nipples. I wanted to touch
them, lick them, kiss them and suck them, then rip off her jeans,
lay her down on the bed and touch every inch of her flawless
porcelain skin. I’d make her come over and over with my fingers and
tongue. I’d part her swollen pink folds and lash her clit with my
tongue, teasing, pressing softly then hard, circling with
occasional plunges into her warmth so she wouldn’t know what was
coming next. I’d sink my fingers into her tight pussy and seek out
her g-spot, stroking it again and again, as I gently sucked on her
clit. I’d make her so wet that she’d be primed to accept my solid
thick cock without complaint. Once she was crying with pleasure and
begging to me to take her, I’d sink into her and make love to her
until she pleaded with me to fill her with my hot salty come.

Make love to her?
Something didn’t sound right with that. I didn’t make love, I
fucked. Roughly.

I groaned as I opened my eyes
and realised I was in bed, alone, dreaming. That damn girl wouldn’t
even leave me in peace when I was asleep. Since the second I’d
spotted her I could think of nothing else, I wanted nothing else.
Now it was time I did something about it. I was actually meeting
her in less than four hours, and the only thing I knew for certain
was that I’d stop at nothing until I made her mine.

I was having
the best day ever. It was Christmas Eve and I was sitting on the
sofa with Mum and my brother or sister in her big, round tummy. She
had her arm around me as she read me a story. She smelled of
cinnamon and spice, as she’d been baking all day, preparing cake
and mince pies for lunch for tomorrow. I couldn’t wait, I was so
excited. I loved Christmas, especially when it snowed, like it had
for the last couple of days.

We’d spent ages in the kitchen
that morning. She’d kept getting flour all over her cheeks and I’d
giggled every time she touched the tip of my nose with her floury
fingers, and I’d wipe it away. I’d loved it when she’d finally sat
me on the stool with the big bowl, smeared with remains of the cake
mix. It was a real treat when she allowed me to scrape it all out
with my finger and suck it. It was sweet, sticky and delicious and
I’d been even happier to find the odd stray raisin in there to chew
on. She’d put the radio on and we’d listened to Christmas songs all
day. I loved to hear her sing, she had a beautiful voice, she
sounded just like I imagined an angel would. She’d laughed when I’d
joined in and had kissed my forehead telling me that I had a lovely
voice too. I think she lies to me sometimes, which is very naughty.
Dad always tells me “You shouldn’t tell lies son.” It was one of
his strictest rules. At school I’m always pushed to the back row in
assembly and told to keep my voice down when we’re singing. They
don’t think I have a lovely voice, I’ve seen the looks everyone
gives me. Today though I hadn’t cared, Mum loved it when I sang, so
I’d sung even louder and enjoyed seeing her big smile.

Sitting in the lounge now
though, I’m barely listening to the story that she’s telling me. I
just can’t tear my eyes away from the tall twinkling tree and all
the presents underneath it.

‘Gabriel, are you even
listening to me?’ Her laughter was rich and warm, warmer than the
deep orange fire hissing and crackling in the grate. I looked up at
her sparkling bright blue eyes. Mum was so pretty with her long
brown hair and dimpled smile. She smiled a lot, especially when she
looked at me or my dad. ‘I do love you, Gabriel. You’re so handsome
my blond, blue eyed boy,’ she whispered, as she deposited a tender
kiss on my forehead. ‘Just like your father. You’re going to be
such a heart breaker when you grow up, you know that?’

‘No.’ I shook my head, I had no
idea what she meant. How could I break hearts? ‘Mum, please can I
open a present now?’ I pleaded.

‘No, you know the rules, no
presents until tomorrow,’ she smiled.

‘But I want one now,’ I moaned
as I stroked her swollen belly. I liked doing that, sometimes it
would move and she’d laugh and tell me it was my brother or sister
trying to hold hands with me. Mum kept telling me what a great big
brother I was going to make. I was so looking forward to having
someone to play with.

‘Gabriel, don’t be so naughty.
No means no,’ she said firmly as she gave me a stern look. I pulled
out my bottom lip and looked at her from under my creased brow.
‘Don’t even think of pulling a tantrum my darling, because it won’t
work on me.’

‘Mum you’re so
mean
,’ I
whined. I knew I was being childish, I was supposed to be all grown
up at eight years old, but I was frustrated. ‘All my other friends
get to open a present early.’ I pushed her arm off me, got up and
walked to the tree. I wanted to have one now too. I knew there was
a Beyblade in there somewhere, so what if it was a day early? What
was the big deal?

‘Gabriel Austin, this behaviour
isn’t like you. Don’t you dare touch those presents,’ she warned. I
scowled at her as she pointed a long slim finger at me.

‘
Mum
,’ I groaned. I knew
the signs, this was when she was about to get really cross with me.
It didn’t happen often, as I was usually a good boy, but when she
did point her finger it was a sign of an early bedtime with no hot
drink and chunk of chocolate first. Today though, I didn’t care. So
I ignored her, picked one up and shook it. Dad would have
understood if he’d been down here, he knew how much I wanted a
Beyblade, but he was in his study,
again
. Dad was always in
his study lately and he never had the time to play with me anymore.
I felt angry all of a sudden, my friends told me that they all
spent Christmas Eve playing games with their parents and having
fun, then they were allowed to pick one present to open before they
went to bed and hung up their stockings. I couldn’t understand why
my dad didn’t want to play games with me and mum anymore. I decided
the present I was holding was too light to be a Beyblade, so I put
it down.

‘Good boy, Gabriel.’ Mum gave
me a proud smile.

‘It’s Gabe,’ I muttered with a
roll of my eyes. I didn’t understand why mum and dad insisted on
calling me Gabriel, everyone else called me Gabe. I bent down and
picked up another present and shook it.

‘Gabriel Austin,’ scolded mum,
as her voice went up a few octaves. She always used my full name
when I was in trouble. ‘If you don’t put that down
right
now
, you’re going straight to bed, no chocolate.’ I ignored her
and started picking at curled blue ribbon tied tightly around the
box. I was sure that this was the one that I wanted. ‘Gabriel, I’m
going to count to three, and if you haven’t put that present down
I’ll call your father to come and deal with you.’

I gasped as I quickly looked
around at her. She only threatened to call dad down if I’d been
seriously naughty. The last time she’d done that was when I’d
pinched the Nutella out of the pantry and ate the whole jar in
secret. I’d been sick in the lounge, all over her expensive cream
rug. Brown, stinky, sticky fluid that she said would never come out
and the rug had to be thrown away. Dad had given me a serious
telling off and I’d been grounded for a week with no access to my
computer games, and I wasn’t even allowed to hang out with my best
friend Doug. Mum and I glared at each other across the room. I
didn’t like being told what to do, my parents were always trying to
stop me exploring and having fun. ‘Don’t climb that tree, Gabriel,’
they’d warn. ‘Don’t run so fast,’ they’d shout, ‘Where has all this
mud come from?’ they’d scold. I mean come on, I was a boy. Boys
liked to climb, run, jump and get dirty, it’s what we did. I was
seriously irritated now, so I pulled the ribbon on the present as I
steadfastly held her gaze. I figured this was a game, I loved
playing games and I also loved winning. She was challenging me and
I wasn’t planning on backing down.

‘One,’ she warned as she
struggled to push herself to the edge of the sofa. I pulled a bit
harder. ‘Two.’ Her voice sounded firmer and I wavered, she could be
serious and there was no way I wanted dad to be mad with me, not
the night before Christmas. I loved him, but he could get quite
scary when he was cross. Intimating? Intimidadating? I wasn’t sure
of the word, but that’s what I heard people say about him. Robert
Austin was “confident, controlled and intimidadating,” whatever
that meant. I didn’t want him to be like that with me, not for
Christmas, so I threw the present on the floor.