Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One (33 page)

“Damn, you’re too good. I’m going to come.”

He’s warning me, but I keep working until he shouts out, “Lynnie.”

Lynnie?
Fucking hell? He can’t even get my name right? I withdraw my mouth from his dick and glare up at Mr. Hottie. I can’t yell, not with his load filling my mouth. But damn, yelling wouldn’t do any good. Not now anyway. He’s fucking passed out. Mr. Hottie, who promised to “rock my world,” is crashed on the couch, fully displayed, with his come in my mouth. I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. His girth is rather impressive. Shame.

A snore resonates through the air.
A snore?
No flipping way. I glance around, highly disappointed in Mr. Rock-My-World’s performance.

My gag reflex kicks in; a reminder I need to spit. My gaze darts around the room for something, anything nearby to spit in. I come up empty. Another retching sound releases.
Shit.
I need to get rid of this. Like now. I will not swallow his load. What would be the point? He’s not awake to get turned on. Which, in my opinion, is the only reason to slide the bitter goop down.

I stand, shaking my hands, frantically looking for something, anything before I unload on the beige carpet. My gaze lands on a scented candle sitting innocently on the end table. I wince in relief and grab the jar. The salty residue coats my tongue as I watch the creamy goo engulf the wick.
Gross.
But at least I’m free to swallow.

I pause, not quite sure what to do next. Biting my lip, I replace the candle and hope to God he doesn’t try lighting it anytime soon. I turn back to look at Mr. Hottie, who couldn’t remember that my name is Staci.

Shit. How can I get mad at him for not knowing my name? I don’t even remember his. But, at least, I didn’t call out the wrong name during my climax. Not that I’m going to have the chance.

Frustrated, I poke his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Nothing.

Crap.

I nudge his shoulder a little harder.

Still nothing.

Crappity, crap.

What am I going to do with Mr. Hottie’s passed-out naked body? I snatch his shorts off the ground and try scooting them up his legs. I slip them over and around his knee and then come to a halt. He’s freaking dead weight. What was I thinking? With a hard tug, the material slips from my hand, and I fall forward, nose-diving into his crotch. His dick pulsates beneath my mouth, but he remains asleep. I scurry to a sitting position, but my gaze strays back to him. Even flaccid, he’s still impressive.

I switch tactics. Eyeing the room’s furniture, I search for a blanket, but all I find are throw pillows. I place each one of them over his body and make a mound. He’s a pillow mound.

I sigh. It’s the best I can do.

Another snore emits from Mr. Hottie, which draws my attention to his face. My eyes narrow as I study him. He is good looking. But that sense of familiarity makes me squeamish.

I seriously need to re-evaluate how I’m doing things. This...this seeking to fill a void isn’t helping.

I grab my top and shimmy back into it before pulling up my phone’s Uber app. As I order my driver, I exit his house and sit on the concrete stairs to wait. Without thinking, I dial my best friend, Kayla’s number.

“Is everything okay?” Kayla asks.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Don’t Mom me. You’re calling me late on a Friday night. What am I supposed to think?”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m all right,” I say with a sad tone.

“Something’s wrong. Don’t make me fly back to get it out of you.”

God, I miss my friend. We’ve lived together for four years until her world got turned upside down. Her mom died, and she moved in with her dad to be closer to her boyfriend. The problem, it’s four-thousand miles away.

“I’m giving up sex,” I profess.

“What? You?”

I laugh. I so deserve that, but it still makes me sad. I’ve ridden her so much for waiting for the right guy.

“This last jerk fell asleep. And I’m still horny, but it’s nothing The Beave can’t handle.” The Beave being my silicone boyfriend.

“Fell asleep?”

“Yeah, right after I gave him head. He crashed out, cold.”

“Oh my God, I thought you were good at it,” she says, laughing.

“Bitch, I am good! He’s just a selfish prick.”

“Was he at least cute?”

“Yeah, he was good looking.” I’m downplaying it. His stormy-blue, sultry eyes replay through my mind, making me shiver. “Anyway, I’m swearing off men until I meet a good one.”

She laughs again.

Fucking bitch.

“I’m being serious.” I feign hurtfulness.

She quits laughing and clears her throat. “Sorry. I just got off work, and I’m a little giddy. I think it’s a great idea. It’s totally worth it, you’ll see. Wait. Where are you?”

“Outside his house. Waiting for my Uber driver.”

“House? You’re not on campus?”

Oh shit. Here comes the lecture that I’m in no mood to hear.

“Nooo,” I draw out. “He’s not a student. I’m at his house.”

“How many times did I tell you not to go to a stranger’s house? Especially if they’re not—”

“I’m fine. It’s okay. He just‌…‌he seemed familiar. Safe. He’s just a nice guy. Charming.”

“Ted Bundy was charming. Be careful.”

I hold back a sigh. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m through.”

“Okay, Staci. Whatever you say. I have faith in you.”

Her teasing tone suggests otherwise, but I can’t be mad. She knows me too well. The headlights of the pick-up car flash around the corner. “I miss you, girlfriend.”

“I miss you, too. Call me soon.”

We hang up, and I step toward the silver Prius. Opening the passenger door, I greet the driver.

He nods his squarish head and speeds away from Mr. Narcoleptic.

To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement. I thought Mr. Hottie and I had a moment back at the bar. It turns out, the only instant connection we had was my tongue on his dick.

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Read the first chapter of Visions: The Mystical Encounters Series, Book One after the Author page.

Acknowledgements

First of all I want to thank my husband. If we hadn’t taken the wonderful trip to Kauai, I may have never had the inspiration to write this story. Even though the situations are completely fictional, the beauty described throughout the novel is very real. This was such an enjoyable book to write and my goal was for you, the reader, to capture as much of the island as possible. I only hope I brought justice to Kauai. One of these days, I will make it back there.

Thanks for taking the time to read my work. I appreciate you stepping away from your busy lives and stepping into my imaginary world. I look forward to writing the next novel in the series.

Thanks to my critique partner, Kayla, for keeping me on the straight path and trying to tone down the insta-love, even though I’m a member of the insta-love fan club. Your insights are always spot-on. Also thanks for pointing out my incorrect word usages and for keeping my voice young! Everyone needs a snarky critique partner. I’m so glad I found you. You’ll never know how truly invaluable you really are.

Thanks to the rest of my beta readers. You know who you are. You BB’s rock! Without you guys, I’m not sure what I’d do. I love each and every one of you!

To my editor, Patrick. Thanks for making my manuscript shine. Your skills are an asset, and I’m glad you always find time to work me into your schedule. Especially since I always tell you one date, and then change it on you.

And lastly, I have to give thanks to my proofreader, Dale Brooks. You have no idea how much I appreciate you going over the book with your eagle eyes. I only wish I found you sooner! You’re a great buddy!

About the Author

Kimberly Readnour lives in the Midwest with her husband, two children, and a very fluffy cat.

Visions, book one of the Mystical Encounters Series, is a #1 Amazon Kindle bestseller and a 2015 Readers’ Favorite book award finalist. Her series, the Mystical Encounters, has spent many weeks on the Amazon’s teen and young adult’s mysteries and thrillers bestseller’s lists.

Kimberly worked as a Registered Nurse for fifteen years before hanging-up her stethoscope. When she isn’t running her own business, you can find her tucked away writing.

Visions

I squeezed the straps of my backpack as my jaw clamped tightly shut. Escape. I needed to escape. My gaze landed on the students rushing past the doorway, and my body went numb. I would have to wait.

I glanced across the table at Kelsey Smith, the most popular sophomore at Claytonville High, and shook my head. No, I needed to leave.
Now!

“Here’s your notebook,” Kelsey said.

She held the spiral across the table, and I carefully grabbed the edge farthest from her fingers. I couldn’t risk making contact, not with that leather–strapped bracelet she wore.

“Thank you,” I managed to mutter.

Kelsey’s brows furrowed, and I dropped my gaze before she could say anything. Biting my lip, I jammed the notebook inside my backpack. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. If that particular piece of jewelry came in contact with me, my secret would be out. I knew the true owner of that bracelet wasn’t Kelsey. It belonged to her best friend, April. And April’s been missing for a week now.

I sprung out of my seat to leave. Kelsey’s head snapped toward me, and she frowned. I hesitated slightly, then turned away from her. Crowded hallway or not, I was out of here. I didn’t mind helping Kelsey catch up on our history notes, but I’d tempted fate for too long. I sucked in a breath and stepped into the hallway.

“Heather, wait. I wanted to thank you—”

Kelsey’s voice came from behind me, and I paused at the pressure on my shoulder. I drew back and tried inching away, but her voice faded into a completely different one. And I was no longer myself…‌

I crossed the mall parking lot, and my eyes narrowed at the black pickup truck parked beside my car. My back muscles tightened as I scanned the area. Tons of empty spaces and the driver chose that particular spot to park? I harrumphed. Why had I parked in this desolated area?

The overhead lights cast more shade around my car than light. I shivered and glanced behind me in a search for more shoppers. Nobody. I huffed a frustrated sigh and marched forward. Movement in the shadows of the truck spiked my heart rate, and I froze, rooted in place. Who or what was that? I waited momentarily. The wind blew strands of hair across my face, and I released a nervous laugh. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me.

I shifted the shopping bag to the side and reached for my phone. I’d call Kelsey. She’d keep me company. I quickly dialed her number and waited.
Please answer the phone
.

“Hey, girl,” I said, dropping my shoulders. “What’s our plan for tomorrow night?”

I stepped forward, comforted by Kelsey’s voice. Which was stupid. What could she have done if I was in trouble?

“’Kay, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I stopped beside the driver’s door and turned the phone off. I glanced at my purse and tossed the phone inside, then dug around for the buried keys. Mom’s criticizing voice echoed in the back of my head. “
April, you should always be prepared
.” I wanted to curse at her for constantly being right. A shuffling sounded behind me. I paused momentarily, my hand hovering inside my purse.

I glanced up and flinched at the sudden reflection in the car window. My pulse spiked as if fear itself had grabbed my heart and clutched it tightly. I was in trouble. The image of a man wearing a long, black coat appeared directly behind me. I threw my purse and shopping bag at him, then darted to the right. I stumbled backward and winced from the strong grip on my arm. He quickly overpowered me. Although he was much stronger, I kept squirming to get out of his control. I opened my mouth to scream. A cloth emerged from his hand and concealed my face, stifling any sound. My jaw clamped shut, and I shook my head back and forth.
Don’t breathe in.
His arms remained tightly wrapped around my body, the rag firmly in place.

The pressure built in my lungs and I could no longer hold my breath. I inhaled deeply, and a strong chemical odor engulfed my senses. The ground spun beneath my feet as the heady, intoxicating scent enveloped me. My legs wobbled, and I became weaker and weaker, succumbing to the total blackness.

A faint sound‌—‌perhaps a whimper‌—‌echoed faintly in the background of my mind. Seconds later, the sound returned, ringing annoyingly through my head.
Just go away
. A few moments passed, and I realized the annoying sound came from my mouth. Something wasn’t right.

Where was I?

All mental thoughts meshed together and made it impossible to concentrate. I was dominated, trapped by the total darkness that surrounded my mind. I couldn’t move, rendered motionless from my semi–conscious state on the hardened, concrete floor. I groaned. I wasn’t lying here by choice.

I took a deep breath and used what little strength I had to force my eyes open. They barely budged. I slumped further against the floor. My heavy eyelids made the simple task of opening them impossible.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I move?

Part of the problem was my pounding head, it hurt so badly. It felt as if someone was beating a drumstick on top rhythmically. Boom... Boom... Boom...

I tried raising my arms, but could barely lift them off the ground. I let out a long, low sigh and lay perfectly still for a few more minutes. I had two options: continue to lie here without moving, or figure out what had happened to me. After a few seconds of debate, I opted for the latter.