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

ignoring the stares from the people around them. They were starting to draw quite a crowd. Not good. He briefly wondered if anyone believed him. It didn"t help that Brandon"s entire body had convulsed with suppressed mirth when he"d declared his homosexuality. He shot his friend a dirty look.

“If you two are together, prove it,” the biker challenged.

He turned back to the ugly man. “What?”

“Prove it,” he said, gesturing to Brandon. “Kiss him.” Brandon"s head snapped up, his eyes wide.

Damn. He should have seen that coming. One of Brandon"s brows lifted and Patrick could practically hear Brandon"s thoughts— What are you going to do now, you idiot? His mind raced, trying to answer that very question. Too bad he was coming up blank.

Fuck it. How bad could it be?

Turning, he speared his free hand into Brandon"s thick, dark blond hair, the curls tickling his fingers as he cupped the side of Brandon"s head. Brandon"s eyes bulged, his mouth falling open. He didn"t say a word out loud, but his face practically shouted, Youwouldn’t dare.

Patrick never could refuse a dare. After all these years, Brandon ought to know that.

Tightening the arm around his friend"s waist, Patrick pulled Brandon"s long, firm thighs up against his own, their hips bumping. The crowd around them fell silent, watching. Waiting. Holding their collective breath in anticipation.

He wasn"t going to disappoint. Dropping his head, he pressed his lips over Brandon"s.

The first kiss was quick, a rubbing of mouths, Brandon"s totally immobile beneath his. It was weird but not awful. Brandon"s lips were firmer than any woman"s had ever been. And actually, it was kind of interesting, since for the first time in his life, his big frame wasn"t dwarfing the person in his arms. Brandon"s tall, lean body fitted against him perfectly.

In the spirit of wanting to end the stand-off decisively—and knowing that one peck wasn"t going to cut it—he dipped his head again, running his mouth along Brandon"s, catching his lower lip before letting it go. The fine stubble tickling his chin and his palm where it cupped Brandon"s jaw was distracting. Not bad, but…different. His heart started beating a little faster, the blood humming in his veins. He watched, fascinated, as Brandon"s gaze lost focus and his eyelids dropped to half-mast. Not pushing him away, but not actually kissing him back either.

He was about to let Brandon go, hoping their new biker friend was suitably convinced, when a wave of motion rippled through the dense crowd, emanating from the stage and forcing their audience back toward the bar. Brandon"s hand shot out, gripping the bar as he turned his back to the room, but the momentum of all those bodies crushed together was too much and the weight of the crowd pushed him 11

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forward. In an instant, Patrick"s back was pressed against the bar as Brandon"s lips, chest, hips and legs were all crushed to his.

Sweet Lord, his libido had always had a short fuse, but never in his life had anything just flipped his switch.

Until now.

Brandon"s erection ground against him, the heavy shaft straining against leather and through denim. It shouldn"t have felt so good. But it did.

A very small part of Patrick"s mind thought he should be horrified, but his own cock pressed back, surging with blood and desire to match the press of Brandon"s rigid length. Another very small part of his mind thought he should resist no matter how good it felt. Brandon was his best friend, his pal. His bud.

The rest of his mind was thinking, Fuck. Yes!

When Brandon"s mouth opened beneath his lips, rational thought fled in the face of a tidal wave of desire.

Patrick"s fingers came back up and fisted in Brandon"s hair, holding his head at the angle he wanted it, needed it, while his tongue plunged into Brandon"s mouth. Brandon met the assault head-on with one of his own. Their tongues met and clashed, warred and retreated. His muscles knotted, the need escalating, his cock so hard he could barely stand straight. He wrapped his arm around Brandon and pulled him closer, so that their hips collided again and again, the length of their cocks rubbing each time Brandon"s hips twitched in response to the thrust of their tongues. Brandon"s whimper rang through his head like a bell, drowning out the sound of their audience hooting and hollering their appreciation.

The kiss was wild. Carnal. Blood rushed from his head, flooding through his aching cock before tracing fire through his veins.

God, Brandon tasted good. Familiar and different. The strength of Brandon"s arms, his sheer size, his flavor and texture. It was like Patrick"s first kiss all over again. A world of discovery in one lip-locked moment. Heat poured through him, thrumming with rough need.

The big ugly guy was gone. The crowd was gone, the music, the bartender with whom he had, indeed, been flirting. He lost track of them all, no longer caring if they were near, if they watched, if they even existed. There was only Brandon.

Who is, Patrick thought with a last grasp at reason, my best friend. Should it feel this hot? Taste this good? He sank even deeper into Brandon"s mouth and into the kiss, even as his brain sent its last reasonable transmission.

This was probably not a good idea.

Fuck! What the hell is Patrick thinking, kissing me? Brandon wondered as he rolled his hips along his best friend"s erection one more time.

Okay, scratch that. What the hell am I thinking, kissing him back?

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Destiny Calls

But, of course, he knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking that Patrick"s kiss was better than every fantasy he"d ever conjured. The feel of Patrick"s tongue sliding along his, the thrust of that fucking enormous cock as it bucked against him, was so much better than he could have ever imagined.

Crushing Patrick"s flat belly up against his, he indulged himself, deepening the kiss, relishing the feeling of Patrick"s hands fisted in his hair, his hard