Destined - The Austin Series Prequel Read online

  Destined

  By C. J. Fallowfield

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2014 C. J. Fallowfield

  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author

  Image Copyright © 2014

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Editing by Ella Marie

  Foreword

  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

  Table of Contents

  Present Day

  Eleven Years Ago

  Six Years Ago

  9 Months Ago

  One Week Ago

  Yesterday

  Back to the Present

  Present Day

  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.

  Eleven Years Ago

  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 sh
e’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.

  ‘I hate you,’ I yelled at her. She looked back at me with hurt in her eyes. I don’t even know why I said that, of course I didn’t hate her, but I was so annoyed. I’d just wanted one night, one night as a family, a night where Mum, Dad and I sat and played together. It hardly ever happened anymore and sometimes I felt really sad and lonely. I’d been so happy when mum had given up work a few months ago, to stay at home while she was pregnant. I’d thought we’d have loads of time to play together, but lately she spent hours asleep and when dad got home from the office, he holed himself up in his study. I couldn’t wait for a brother or sister so I had someone to talk to and play with, though I didn’t really like girls all that much, so secretly I was hoping that I’d get a brother.

  I ran out of the lounge, slamming the door and headed for the stairs. I knew Mum wouldn’t be able to catch me, with that baby in her tummy she was too fat to keep up with me and I was so good at running. I had loads of medals from school for running fast. I made it to the first landing before I heard her shout at me to come back down. I ignored her and carried on, stomping around to the next set of stairs leading up towards my bedroom in the attic and I heard her trying to run up after me. I froze when I heard a scream and a load of sickening thuds. I gulped as I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest and I crept to the bannister. I gingerly peaked over it and gasped as I saw her lying on the tiled floor at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Mum,’ I whispered, but she didn’t move. ‘Mummy,’ I called a bit louder, still nothing. My eyes went wide with horror as I saw a bright red spot appear on her white skirt. I watched it growing larger and larger, quickly painting the material until it was completely red. I knew something was horribly wrong. ‘Daddy,’ I screamed and he came charging out of his study.

  ‘Gabriel, what is it? What’s the matter?’ he frowned, as he put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I pointed a shaky hand downstairs and watched his face as he looked over. He went as white as the snow all over our garden, covering every inch of the green grass. ‘Get in your room right now, Gabriel,’ he snapped, making me flinch. ‘Mummy’s not very well and I need to look after her. I’ll call Mr. and Mrs. Tudor to come and look after you.’

  I could hear his voice shaking. Dad was so big and strong, I really didn’t like seeing his hands trembling and hearing his voice shake like that. He started running down the stairs as he yelled at me to get into my room, close the door and not come out until Doug’s parents came to get me. I did as I was told, too scared to do anything else. I grabbed my teddy bear, crawled under the bed and started crying. Mum was sick and it was my fault. I made her cross and chase after me. With her big tummy she must have wobbled over while she was chasing me up the stairs. What had I done? Dad was going to be so furious with me when he found out it was my fault that she was hurt.

  ‘Please be ok Mummy, please,’ I whispered into teddy’s neck as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. ‘I love you.’

  Mrs. Tudor cooked me porridge for breakfast, with loads of honey, then gave me a sugary jammy donut and stroked my hair. I wasn’t usually allowed sugary treats for breakfast and I figured it must be because it was Christmas day, as Doug had one too. She looked very upset and kept crying. Every now and then she would come over and hug me tightly and give me a kiss on the top of my head. She was nice, I really liked Doug’s mum and dad, but it was Christmas day and I wanted to be at home with my own parents. Mr. Tudor ushered us all into the lounge and put the TV on. There were loads of presents under the tree, all of mine had been packed up and brought over to their house. I screamed and ran around the room happily when I found my Beyblade, waving it triumphantly in the air. Mrs. Tudor burst into tears and left the room. I frowned, why was she upset that I liked my Christmas present? I decided I’d probably never understand wo
men.

  ‘When are Mum and Dad coming to get me?’ I asked as I ate my turkey dinner.

  ‘Dad will be here to see you as soon as he can, Gabe.’ Mr. Tudor ruffled my hair, but Mrs. Tudor started crying again and left the table. That was definitely a woman thing, she cried a lot. Doug looked at me and rolled his eyes and I chuckled.

  We were playing with our presents when there was a knock at the front door and Mr. Tudor went to answer it. I looked up at the clock, it was already nearly bedtime. I shouted with happiness to hear my dad’s voice and ran out into the hall and threw my arms around his waist. He had a suitcase next to him, my suitcase with my Spiderman stickers all over it. I figured he’d brought it to pack up all my presents to take me home. He slowly lifted me up into his arms and clutched me to him tightly and I heard him sob, a horrible gasping noise.

  ‘What’s the matter, Dad?’ I asked and tried to look at him, but he held my head against his shoulder as he carried me into the lounge and shut the door. He sat me down on his knee and I looked around, wondering where Doug and his Mum had gone. I felt dad’s hand stroke my hair, just like mum did when I was upset. I really liked that, it always made me feel calm and safe.

  ‘Dad where’s Mum? Is she better?’ I asked as I looked up at him. He looked different. His normal bright blue eyes were all bloodshot and he had stubble all over his face. Dad always shaved, it was a ritual of ours. Every morning he’d sit me on the big vanity unit next to his sink in the bathroom and we’d talk while I watched him shave. Sometimes he’d make me scream with laughter as he’d flick his shaving foam all over me and then tickle me. He used to throw me in the air and catch me, but I was too big for that now. I loved our mornings together while he shaved, I felt like a proper man.