Fated (2 page)

“Nog! Enough!”  He growled deeply through gritted teeth.  “Vackra, I do not want to come this way.”

Releasing him with a light pop, I let him fall from my mouth.  Pushing lightly against his chest and forcing him back against the bed, I crawled slowly up the length of his body.  Every inch of our skin was touching as I pressed against him.  “Do you want to be inside of me when you come?”

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.  “Yes.”

“Do you want to make me come too?” I asked, nuzzling my nose against his cheek.

“Josephine....”

“Answer me.  Do you want to touch me?”  I brushed my lips against his as I spoke.  His mouth parted and his tongue flickered out to lick across his lower lip.  I knew all too well what that tongue was capable of and I'd had enough of trying to control him.  I wanted to lose myself in him and everything he had to offer.

“More than I can tell you.  Jag vill begrava min kuk i dig. Jag vill att du ber för mig att sluta,”  He muttered softly as he switched to speak in his native tongue.

Instead of kissing me, he opened his mind to me, revealing exactly what he wanted to do in explicit detail.  He wanted to devour every part of me, bury himself inside of me until I screamed his name and begged for him to stop.

“Don't just show me what you want to do to me with your mind.  Do it,”  I whispered in challenge.

His large hands blurred to cup each side of my face, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was as raw and unapologetic as it was seductive.  In a blur, he had flipped me on my back on the bed, his pale body looming over me.

“Josie!”  I heard my name being called from a distance. The offending voice wasn't his, it was garbled and distorted.  Choosing to ignore it, I focused back on him.  My lips sought his again, his smile brief as our lips reconnected, wet and filled with need.

I felt a hand grasp my shoulder, slightly shaking me.  He began to disappear around me, fading away before my eyes.  I already mourned the loss of his mouth against mine and my skin cried out for him.

“Josie, wake up.” The insistent voice was back and was much clearer this time.

“No, come back. Don't leave me,”  I murmured, frantically grasping at his fading form.

“I will see you again soon, vackra.” With those parting words, he completely disappeared.

My eyes flew open and I sat straight up with a strangled gasp and I felt as if my heart was going to pound out of my chest.  Running my hands through my hair, my eyes darted around the room in search of him.  I was disappointed to see my neighbor sitting on the edge of my bed, her face twisted in concern as she watched me hesitantly.

“Josie, you scared the crap outta me.  Are you okay?”  Georgia asked quietly.  She leaned over to place her hand on my trembling arm.

“Uh, yeah.  Give me a sec,” I stammered.  I rubbed my face with my hands and tried to sort out my jumbled thoughts.  I'd dreamed of him again.  He was a beautiful, perfect fragment of my imagination.

When my head cleared, I focused my attention back on Georgia.  She was still watching me nervously from her perch at the end of my bed.

“What are you doing here?”  I snapped at her.  She flinched at my tone and I felt horrible that I was taking my frustration out on her.  I wasn't used to having such vivid dreams.  Especially the kind I'd been having lately. “Shit, I didn't mean to snap. I'm still not awake.”

“Pfft, I've had worse.  You should meet my sister.”  She waved me off and her face relaxed into a smile.  “I was stopping by to see if you wanted to go out tonight.  Anna called me earlier and she wants to meet us at the Echo Beach Club.  I think she misses us.”

Georgia Turner was a fellow American who had relocated to live in Bali to run a local charity, a fireball of a woman from the state of Louisiana.  She was in her late thirties, a tall brunette with dark blue eyes.  She had a light southern drawl to her speech and was blessed with a wicked sense of humor.  She was also extremely perceptive and had an uncanny way of seeing through you with her sharp, observant eyes.

“Georgia, I don't know-” I began, tucking a piece of my long, reddish-blond hair behind my ear.  It was a waste of time arguing with her because Georgia didn't take no for an answer.  I could already feel the smugness emanating from her.  She knew she'd won and I knew I'd be going out tonight.

“No if's, ands or buts,” Georgia said as she cut me off.  She turned smoothly on her heel and headed down the hallway. “Now get your behind into gear before I need to kick it.”  I watched Georgia's ponytail bobbing as she bounced away.

“And I'll be back at eight.  Be ready,” She yelled over her shoulder as if an afterthought.

Glancing at my watch, I let out a groan when I noticed it was already almost seven.  I guess it was time to get my ass into gear since Georgia wouldn't be late.

***

Humming to myself, I dabbed on lip gloss and pivoted in the mirror, giving my tight black wrap dress and wedge sandals a silent nod of approval.  I walked down the hall into the living room and plopped down on the couch to wait for Georgia.  Closing my eyes, I took in a calming breath, concentrating on getting my mental shields in place.  It had been a while since I'd been in a crowd of people and unless I was prepared, it was going to be a long night for me.

I avoided going out a lot because of my 'gift'.  And most days my 'gift' of being a psychic empath seemed to be more of a curse than a blessing.  It gave me a front row seat to see the intimate details into the lives of strangers and their emotions.  I told very few people about my abilities.  I'd learned the hard way that most people either viewed me as a shiny new toy to play with or chose to avoid me at all costs.

“Josie!”  Georgia's irritated voice brought me back to reality, snapping me out of my musings.  “I've been knocking for two minutes.  C'mon already, Anna's waiting for us.  Let's roll, girl.”

Startled by her loud arrival, I'd been so focused on shielding that I hadn't heard Georgia knocking or been able to see her arrive.  She was hard to block, her future and emotions almost screamed out for my attention. 
I had to stay on guard with Georgia.  It would only take one small slip on my part for her to figure out my abilities.

“Sorry, Georgia.  I'm just out of it today,” I said.  I reached over to grab my purse and tried my best to push down my guilty conscience, offering her a small smile of apology.

“We can chat in the car.  I didn't work this long getting ready to stand around in your house. C'mon,” Georgia teased as she swept her arm down her body.  Georgia's hair hung down her back in a sleek, shiny sheet and her hot pink, silk mini-dress left little to the imagination.  She was what Americans termed ‘a cougar.’  She happily flaunted her sexuality and viewed men as an entertaining challenge.  Once she'd had her fun, she moved on to the next.  There were days that I envied her nonchalance when it came to men and relationships.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered as I followed Georgia outside to her car, getting in the passenger seat and reaching behind me to grab the seat belt.  I was still struggling to fasten it when she gunned the engine and roared down my driveway.  Georgia drove like she was chasing the last living man on earth or the last bottle of wine on the island.  Or both.

“Josie, are you excited about tonight?” Georgia asked.  I shot her a look out of the corner of my eye and smiled as I watched her bounce in the seat excitedly.  “I just know tonight is going to be a night to remember.  Something big is going to happen, Josie.  I can feel it!”

“And what makes tonight so special?” I questioned.  I found it ironic that this was coming from the non-psychic cougar that made this same prediction every time we went out.  And to date, nothing exciting had ever happened.

“I can't put my finger on it, Josie.  Maybe we can find you a man tonight.  You've been here way too long with no lovin’,” Georgia drawled, glancing over at me with a wicked smile before focusing back on the road.

“Georgia, you know I don't date.  Men and I aren't a good mix,” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest.  It wasn't a lie, I didn't date.  I avoided men and had given up on the idea of having a relationship a long time ago.  It was yet another perk of being a psychic empath.

“Who said anything about dating?  I'm merely suggesting that you have a little fun with no strings attached,” Georgia replied lightly. “You're gorgeous, Josie. You could have any man you wanted.”

Georgia's words were ironic. I didn't consider myself 'gorgeous' but I was pretty.  My long hair was reddish-blond and wavy and I was curvy in all the right places.  I'd never had any problem attracting the unwanted attention of men.  I just didn't want it.

“Whatever.  Keep dreaming, cougar,” I replied.  I mentally started the countdown until she started her tirade.  3, 2...

“I told you that I'm much too young to be a cougar.  I'm a puma.” Georgia raised an eyebrow and quickly shot me a dirty look. “Stop trying to change the subject, Josie.  I'm just worried about you, sweetie.  You seem so lonely.”

Hot tears pricked at the back of my eyes as I focused out the window for a moment. “I'm fine, Georgia.  Honest.”

“That's where I beg to differ. You've been here for a year and Anna and I are your only friends.  You don't date, you spend days alone writing and doing yoga.  It's not good to shut yourself off from everything.”

Georgia had taken it upon herself to be my unofficial foster mom after she found out I'd been orphaned.  My adoptive parents had both died in a car accident four years ago, leaving me with no family.  I’d searched extensively for my birth parents but I'd hit a dead end when I found the records had been sealed. 

“I've managed to make it 28 years being a loner, Georgia.  Let's change the subject, please,” I said crossly.

“You're in luck, sweetheart.  We're here,” Georgia said as she pulled into a parking spot near the front of the restaurant.  We were walking towards the door when she turned to look at me mischievously.  “Josie, let's talk about that fling I think you need to have before we go in.”

“Georgia.  Let's have dinner, some drinks and some fun,” I said sharply, cutting her off before she started giving me more relationship advice.  I gave her a small shove through the heavy wood doors of the restaurant.  “That's more than enough for me.”

“Spoiled sport.”  Georgia pouted as her eyes scanned the room. She spotted Anna across the restaurant, waiting for us at a table that was close to the bar and had a fantastic view of the beach.  Georgia waved her arm wildly to catch her attention and we crossed the restaurant to join her.

“Anna!” Georgia squealed, leaning over and pulling her up into a tight hug.  Anna rolled her eyes at me over Georgia's shoulder as she halfheartedly hugged her back.

“Georgia, I keep forgetting how demure you are,” Anna deadpanned.  I coughed and focused on a piece of non-existent piece of lint on my dress so I didn't laugh at the obvious sarcasm in her voice.

Anna Wilson was a tiny, vivacious woman in her early thirties.  She had a tumble of shoulder length brown curls, clever brown eyes and had zero tolerance for bullshit.  She was a successful realtor in Bali, also a fellow American that originally hailed from the east coast.  Anna was the one friend here that knew of my ability and had accepted me with a shoulder shrug and never mentioned it again.

“Come here and give me a hug, bitch,” Anna laughed, extracting herself from Georgia's embrace to tug me in for a brief hug.  “Don't get any ideas about the two of us just because I'm happy to see you.”

Laughing at Anna's snark, we sat down at the table and I grabbed a menu.  As I flipped through the pages, I felt like someone was intently watching our table.  Quickly glancing around the restaurant, I lowered my shields to focus on the crowd.  I was instantly bombarded with emotions that ranged from desire, happiness, and angst.  Unable to find anyone that had plans on approaching our table, I raised my shields back into place and blamed my nerves on the busy crowd.

The conversation was light and fun, partially due to numerous glasses of wine I consumed during dinner.  I felt myself start to relax when I realized my shields were better than I thought they would be.  Was the alcohol making me brave or was I underestimating myself?  I had a feeling it was the alcohol.

We'd just finished dinner when a DJ started playing music in the bar area.  Georgia and Anna pleaded and tried to drag me onto the dance floor with them.  I quickly waved them off and motioned to the patio across the room.  I walked slowly to the door and stepped out onto the patio, glancing back over my shoulder to watch Georgia as she swayed in time to the music with a dark haired man, not wasting any time in snagging herself a dance partner.  Anna was sitting at the bar, deep in conversation with the bartender.  I slipped out the door, happy that I wouldn't be missed for a few minutes since they were both occupied.

Smiling to myself, I stepped carefully down the stairs to the beach below and watched as the waves crashed onto the beach.  I was actually glad that I'd let Georgia talk me into coming out tonight.  There was really no chance I could have convinced Georgia I didn't want to anyway.  She would have stomped in, dressing and physically hauling me out if necessary.  I let out a loud laugh at the mental image, the sound echoing through the balmy night air.

“May I ask what is so funny?”

Startled by the deep, smooth accented voice, I whirled around to see a man swaggering towards me.  He was well over six feet tall and solidly built with blond, Nordic good looks.  His face was finely sculpted, with sparkling eyes blue like the ocean.  I had the strangest feeling of d
éjà vu
wash over me as I stared at him.  He looked exactly like the man from my dreams.