Fate Interrupted

Fate
Interrupted

by

Kaitlyn
Cross

Fate
Interrupted

Copyright
© 2012 by
Kaitlyn
Cross

Cover
design by
AMDesign
Studios

All
rights reserved

Chapter
One

Dean could feel
himself going soft. Petrified, he closed his eyes and imagined he was on top of
Gina, her silky brown hair sprawled out across the cream-colored pillow beneath
her. The last thing he wanted was for word to get out he was a limp dick. He
wasn’t. But the combination of alcohol and Megan’s obnoxious cries of ecstasy worked
against him, so he gritted his teeth and dug in deeper, trying to rebuild
before it was too late. Megan responded in kind, pressing her head into the
pillow and screaming even louder, jerking him from his thoughts. He cringed and
slowed his roll, trying to spare the sweet elderly woman in the unit above him
a sleepless Saturday night.

Megan grabbed a
fistful of his swept back bangs and yanked hard. “Come on, you can do better
than that.”

The anger
flashing across her sweaty face gave Dean the creeps. Between the condom and
her wetness he could barely feel her. He dropped his head into her shoulder, cigarette
smoke and hair spray clinging to her long blond locks, and closed his eyes.
Gina grinned at him. Her hair was long and smelled like honeysuckle. She slowly
unbuttoned her silk blouse, exposing the firmest pair of breasts he had ever
seen.

He felt a twinge
down below and lifted himself
up,
pumping harder
before Megan’s cries of pleasure could foil his efforts.

“Fuck me harder,
asshole!”

Dean’s eyes popped
open, a heavy frown stealing across his handsome features.

Megan grinned at
him like she was getting away with murder. “You better fuck that pussy like you
mean it!”

A grimace rolled
through him and he obliged just to shut her up, regretting his selection for
the night. Along with the smell of sex and sweat, a loud slapping sound filled
the room. Waves rushed through Megan’s floppy breasts, rippling through them
like mini-waterbeds, smacking her in the chin and dropping back to her sternum.
She turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut, accepting each angry
thrust with another satisfied groan.

He cupped a
sweaty hand over her mouth, fearing the old lady upstairs might think he was
murdering someone in cold blood and actually call the cops.

Megan thrashed
beneath him and beat on his hairy chest with fists of rage. “Get off me you, bastard!”

Dean stopped in
his gyrating tracks, his sculpted
pecs
rising and
falling as he studied her twisted face.

She cracked her
blue eyes open and blew a strand of hair from her face. “Why are you stopping?”

He arched an
eyebrow at her. “You just told me to stop. Then you called me a
bastard
.”

She laughed
drunkenly and sank back into the pillow. “Stop messing around and start screwing
me, Dean.”

He shook his
head and got back to it, closing his eyes and praying it wasn’t too late. He
pinned Megan’s legs behind his biceps and punched in, slapping privates loud
enough for the entire building to hear. In his mind, he lifted Gina onto his
desk and ran a hand up her short skirt, caressing the inside of her tanned
thigh. He wasn’t surprised to find she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her wet spot
begged him to dip inside and melt into her comforting warmth.
Fuck me, Dean
, she whispered softly,
sweeping a tongue across her raspberry-colored lips. He swept everything on his
desk to the floor, unzipped his pants and gave her what she wanted. She tipped
her head back and moaned her gratification, her black high heels dangling in
the air as he unleashed his fury.

“Let me go, you
fucking asshole!”

Dean’s eyelids
rolled back, bringing Megan into focus and sending Gina into a fine gray mist
spiraling up into nothingness. Megan squirmed beneath him with a look of sheer
terror blanketing her expression.

“Please!” she
pleaded, pushing him off of her. “This isn’t right!”

His hips slowed
to a stop.

Her glazed over
eyes sharpened, drilling him with malice. Her breasts heaved beneath him as she
chased her breath. “You stop again and I’ll rip your dick off,” she whispered
through gritted teeth.

His eyebrows
dipped together.

She slapped his
ass like a horse and made him jump. “Come on, Dean!” she barked. “Quit stopping.”

He rolled his
eyes and grudgingly cranked up the ole
Evinrude
again. Megan moaned in time with his gyrating hips. Rolling waves of pleasure
burst from her gaping mouth, washing over him with the smell of alcohol and
cigarettes. Dean flipped off the safety and gave her the business, ready to get
this over with while the getting was good.

“Stop!” she
panted, slapping a hand against his chest. “I want to suck your dick and taste
myself.”

His face folded
in the dim light. He thought better of it and kept slamming away.

“Tie me up!” she
ordered, struggling against him.

He glanced at
the alarm clock, guessing he had put on a long enough show and picked up the
pace.

She pulled on his
bare ass with both hands, greedily demanding every inch he had to offer. “I
want you to cum on my tits.”

He pressed on
and decided to go with the option that would leave his sheets in the best
condition. Dean worked faster, the finish line stretching across his mind just
up ahead. He threw his head back and grunted, exploding inside the condom and
sending stars shooting across his the back of his eyelids.

Megan cried out as
she climaxed with him, her body shuddering with pulsating convulsions. She
wrapped a hand around his sweaty neck and pulled him to her, milking his cock
for
every last
drop.

Out of
politeness, he kissed her on the forehead and rolled over onto his back,
dropping his head into his pillow with a long sigh. He would have to steer
clear of Milwaukee Street for a while now. That was Megan’s haunt.

She turned onto
her side to face him with a disturbing grin, her blond hair a tangled mess. She
stared at him through dreamy eyes, her hand massaging his softening dick. “That
was amazing. I knew you’d have a big dick the moment I saw you.”

He chuckled with
a frown. “And how’d you know that?”

“Tall guys
always have big dicks, just like they always have big feet.”

He stretched his
lips down in a reverse rainbow and nodded. “Makes sense I guess.”

“Let’s do it
again.”

He rubbed his five
o’clock shadow, wondering how long it would take her to get dressed and leave.
“Maybe later.”

She groaned her
displeasure, pulling at the curly brown hairs sprouting from his chest. “Next
time you should really tie me up though.”

A short laugh
broke from his dry lips. “I do have a ski mask.”

“
Ooooh
, that
could be fun!” she giggled, pulling harder on his hairs “Tape my mouth shut and
stuff.”

He laughed,
fighting the urge to say something like:
now, there’s an idea!
He bit his tongue instead and took a long drink of the
lukewarm beer sitting on the nightstand next to him.

She shook her
head when he offered her the bottle and got out of bed, her
untanned
butt cheeks glowing in the dark. The master bath light switched on. She turned
in the doorway and stared at him, a nude silhouette more fitting for a strip bar
logo on a matchbook cover. “If you want to record that next time with your
phone or whatever it’s okay by me.”

He spit beer out
his nose and began coughing.

With a quick
laugh, she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, plunging the bedroom
back into darkness. Dean set the bottle down and wiped his nose, inhaling
another long breath. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, got up and shuffled
into the living room like a drunken zombie, praying Megan would be getting
dressed by the time he got back. He ditched the condom in the half bath off the
living room and took a leak that came out sideways.

After washing
his face and hands, he crept into the kitchen and opened the fridge, bathing
his glistening body in a soft glow. He took a long pull from a bottle of water,
the cool liquid rushing over his tongue and down his throat, squashing the fire
inside. He sighed with satisfaction and figured by now Megan might already have
her jeans on and maybe even her bedazzled tank top.

Dean took the
water with him, knowing she would need a good drink before her long drive to
wherever the hell she called home. She could even take the bottle with her if
she wanted. His spirit sank when he rounded the bedroom doorway and saw a shadowy
figure huddled beneath the covers in his bed.

“Here
ya
go,” he said, handing her the bottle.

She sat up, the white
sheet sliding down her big boobs like a slow moving avalanche. She took an
eager drink and wiped water from her top lip with the back of her hand. “If you
want to do that again anytime during the night just wake me up. Okay?” She
returned the bottle and he forced a smile. Megan dropped back into the bed and
shot him a wry grin that stretched his patience. “Anytime you want more
practice, I’m here for
ya
,
hotstuff
.”

The word
practice
made him wince. He flipped off
the master bath light and tripped over her high heels on the way to his side of
the bed. Dean set the water on the nightstand and grudgingly climbed back into
bed, wondering what she meant by that and how many people she would tell. He
stared at the humming ceiling fan above as Megan’s arm stretched across his
chest. It felt like a sandbag and he wondered what kind of magic trick he would
have to pull off to get her to leave in the morning. A long breath quietly slipped
from his lips as he cursed Jon under his breath. They should have gone for the
two brunettes sitting at the bar.

Chapter
Two

The patio was busy
and Dean was thankful to be wearing sunglasses. Despite the Visine, his eyes
were still bloodshot and puffy. He never slept well with someone in his bed,
let alone someone like Megan. She was a true hound dog who couldn’t get enough.
Just thinking about her made him feel tired.

Shaun waved to
him from the other side of the sun splashed patio, where he was holding down a
table by himself. Dean tipped his head back in response and waded through the
throng of chattering soccer moms and riled up kids. A table of four elderly
women, dressed in their Sunday best, burst into a flourishing round of cackles
as he passed by – probably gossiping about how somebody had the nerve to bring
bran muffins from a box to the church social. Dean stopped abruptly as a kid
zipped in front of him with an empty cup, heading back inside for another
refill of soda he didn’t need.

“What is up, big
baller
!” Shaun said, pushing his sunglasses up his
nose and sucking down some brown soda of his own. He set the cup down, wiped
its condensation on his pants and held his fist out. “Glad you could make it.”

Dean ignored the
fist and pulled back a metal chair that scraped against the concrete, rattling
his brain with its deep amplification. “This place is a madhouse,” he said, setting
his cell phone on the table and taking a seat.

“Everyone loves
Panera
,” Shaun replied, sinking his teeth into a Smokehouse
Turkey Panini.