Destiny Calls Samantha Wayland (the first e reader .txt) 📖

of Brandon"s arousal easily, because those same physical responses to need and desire were mirrored in his own body.

Looking at Brandon, he also realized there was so much he already knew about this man in particular. Reaching out, his hand floating over Brandon"s straining cock, he traced one finger along Brandon"s appendix scar.

“I can still picture you doubled over in the hallway outside math class, demanding I help you to your desk rather than take you to the nurse"s office.” Patrick smiled as he recalled it, as if it were yesterday.

“You didn"t listen, though, did you?” Brandon"s voice was rough, his need plain.

Patrick felt an answering tug in his gut even as he smiled over Brandon"s indignation—then and now.

“Nurse Ratched was awful,” Brandon said with a grimace. “You had to strong-arm her into calling an ambulance.”

“Thank god I did. Your appendix almost burst.” He would never forget Brandon screaming in agony the entire way to the hospital. He"d been scared witless, waiting in the ER until they had come to tell him Brandon would be okay. He"d stood by Brandon"s bedside waiting for him to wake up and wondering whether his parents 69

Samantha Wayland

would ever bother to show up. He"d never been more relieved than the moment Aunt Ethel had barged into the room, informing the nurses that she was the closest thing tofamily that these boys had or were going to get.

He knew just by looking at Brandon"s face that he was remembering the same things.

Drawing his hand up Brandon"s chest, he scraped a nail over one hard nipple before tracing his fingers down another scar, this one along Brandon"s shoulder. “I remember you dislocating this. I tried to tell you that a real sport like baseball would be better, but you had to do lacrosse.”

“I like lacrosse,” Brandon defended. As always.

It was an ancient argument. A long-running joke. The only part that hadn"t been funny was Brandon"s surgery to repair his rotator cuff. Patrick had visited him in the hospital that time too. He and Destiny had brought his homework and books, magazines and Aunt Ethel"s peach cobbler. They had even managed to bury their rage when Brandon casually mentioned that his parents hadn"t visited in a few days.

He and Destiny had visited every day.

Then he pictured Brandon as he and Destiny had found him a few days ago, bruised and pale against the cold white sheets and metal rails of the hospital gurney.

His finger skated over the cut still healing on Brandon"s forehead.

“I don"t ever want to visit you in the hospital again, okay? I swear to god, I age ten years every time.” His voice was hoarse. Looking down into Brandon"s bright green eyes, he could see his friend understood. Maybe too well.

God, what the hell am I getting myself into? For the first time, Patrick realized he really didn"t know, but it wasn"t just some adventure as Destiny liked to believe.

Brandon leaned forward to press his lips to Patrick"s rather than saying anything in response to Patrick"s admission. Patrick was grateful. He was covering a lot of new and shaky ground and he appreciated Brandon not trying to push.

Wrapping his arms around Brandon, he carefully pulled him forward until their chests met, the air leaving Brandon in a gasp as his cock tickled along Patrick"s abdomen. Patrick"s cock rose in response, his heart beating like a drum as he lowered his mouth to Brandon"s, capturing his lips in a deep and thorough kiss. It wasn"t enough. Smoothing his hands lower on Brandon"s strong back, he skimmed them over the firm globes of his ass, cupping the clenched muscles and dragging their bodies closer until they were flush, their cocks pressed between them, the thin cotton of Patrick"s shorts the only thing separating them.

With the return of powerful arousal came the loss of his nervousness. In an instant, his shorts went from being a shield he"d clung to in the face of his uncertainty, to being an irritant he wanted gone as soon as possible. He wanted to free his straining cock and grind it against Brandon"s belly. He wanted to feel Brandon"s hand wrap around him and draw along the thousands of nerve endings screaming for his touch. For release. He wanted to touch and explore and experience it all.

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Brandon rocked his hips, his cock trapped between their bodies, the smooth, swollen head tracing a line of moisture along Patrick"s electrified skin as he devoured Brandon"s mouth. Brandon"s thrusts took up the rhythm set by the plunge and retreat of their tongues, mimicking an act that Patrick had never dreamed of doing with a man before two weeks ago.

But boy, he was dreaming about it now.

Brandon"s head spun from the deluge of emotion and need slamming through his body. His heart hurt from hearing the entreaty in Patrick"s voice when he"d admitted he couldn"t stand another visit to the hospital. Patrick wasn"t one for putting his feelings out there. At least, not like that. Not verbally. He was outgoing, gregarious even, and blessed with a quick wit that often couldn"t keep up with his even quicker mouth, but he wasn"t much for deep emotions and tenderness.

At least, he never had been before. Brandon had long envied the special bond Patrick and Destiny shared, while never being able to pinpoint exactly what it was.

Now he knew. Behind closed doors, in the safety of his bedroom, with the heat of passion and the trust of intimacy, Patrick was… sweet.

It was unexpected. Almost as unexpected as discovering that he could fall further in love than he already had been.

He was so fucking screwed.

He was never going to get out of this in one piece, but he no longer cared. Because while his mind grasped the truth of what he was getting into, the rest of him, like his heart and certain other, more impatient body parts, were distracted by more pressing matters. Not the least of which were their mouths and tongues dancing in