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

shoes then turned to Farley. “Come on, boy. Let"s go out.” Farley, delirious at hearing his favorite word, leaped to his feet and danced out the door on Brandon"s heels. Brandon didn"t exactly storm from the room, but there was no mistaking he was pissed.

Sitting up, Patrick looked down at Destiny. “What am I supposed to do?” Her look of sympathy didn"t make him feel better. “I have no idea.” 126

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That didn"t make him feel better either.

The distinct sound of his truck engine turning over reached them. He looked at Destiny wide-eyed. “What the fuck is he doing?”

She shrugged, clearly as baffled as he.

“If he goes to my house, with my dog, and leaves us here, I swear to god I"ll spank him.”

There was no mistaking the shiver that ran across Destiny"s skin or the meaning in her smile as it slowly spread across her face. “That I"d like to see.” He smiled back, laughing in spite of the absurdity of their situation. He could almost picture the quiver of Brandon"s firm ass cheek as his hand made contact. His smile turned into a grin when he imagined what Brandon would say if he knew Patrick was even contemplating it.

Now that he’d like to see.

His smile faded when the front door squeaked, closing with a resounding bang. He and Destiny held each other"s gazes and waited, wondering what Brandon would do next. They could hear Farley"s nails as he scrambled up the hardwood stairs, followed faintly by the creak of two heavier feet.

Brandon stopped in the bedroom doorway, looking for all the world as if he might still bolt. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Patrick stood from the bed. He knew he should say something to make Brandon believe it would all be worth it, but he didn"t have the words. He had never been more acutely aware that being the one with the big mouth wasn"t the same as being the one who knew the right thing to say.

Instead, he focused on the simple things. “So, ah, what did you do with my truck?”

“It"s behind Marty"s Liquors. I called Junior, so he knows it"s there.” They"d gone to high school with Marty Jr., whose father had left him the store when he"d retired and moved to Fort Meyers. Patrick knew Marty had security cameras, as did all the local patrols, so they wouldn"t bother checking the back lot. His truck was safe. Well hidden.

Welcome to the closet, Patrick thought bitterly. He hated it here already.

Shit. How the hell was he going to fix this? He didn"t fucking know, but it sure as hell wasn"t going to get fixed tonight.

Sighing and nodding his reluctant agreement, Patrick crossed to Brandon and started to pull off his clothes. It took only a single tug of the t-shirt before Brandon shucked his sweatpants and boxers. Patrick was inordinately grateful he wasn"t going to have to wrestle them off. Again.

He was bone-deep tired.

With little finesse, he pushed Brandon back to bed and curled up behind him, lifting the covers up over them all and pressing his lips to the back of Brandon"s neck in a gentle caress.

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Brandon let out a deep sigh. Patrick only wished he knew if it was from contentment or resignation.

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Chapter Eleven

On Monday, Destiny, Patrick and Brandon arrived at Patrick"s house within minutes of each other, though Destiny got there first.

It was Brandon"s first day back at work and she"d gone into the office early so she could be sure to be home for his return. She was worried he"d be exhausted and sore.

She was terrified he"d been mistreated by his colleagues. She wanted to make sure someone was there when he could finally drop his “everything is good” act and really feel.

She moved around the kitchen, dithering until she told herself to knock it off and get focused on starting dinner. She was so damn twitchy and unsettled. Everything was so damn unsettled.

She couldn"t stop picturing Brandon"s face when he"d sat across from them at the police station and not let her touch him. How he"d looked when they"d stormed in his house later that night. Or when he"d moved Patrick"s truck to hide it.

To be honest, she was surprised he"d come to spend the past few nights with her and Patrick, back in the comfort of Patrick"s king bed, in the embrace of Ethel"s cozy home. That he"d taken a taxi one night and had her back and forth to his house the rest of the time, just to be sure the patrol car drive-bys wouldn"t see his car in his best friend"s driveway, was infuriating. And exhausting. This living in the closet business was starting to piss her off.

But what could she do? She"d seen Patrick"s dismay when Brandon had told them he"d taken a taxi, but his only protest had been that Brandon be more careful about being on his own and exposing himself to another possible attack.

Sighing, Destiny stopped what she was doing and looked out the window at Ethel"s lovely back garden that she and Brandon worked hard to maintain.

This sneaking around wouldn"t be worth it if every other moment they spent together wasn"t so freaking good.

Brandon"s shoulders and ribs were still giving him twinges and she and Patrick had been careful not to overdo it after what had happened their first night together. Not that they"d been living like monks, of course. They"d just kept it simple.

She couldn"t remember the last time she"d indulged in so much heavy petting. It felt like they were teenagers trying all those experiments again. And in a way they were, since none of them had done any of it with a third person, a second cock, an extra ten fingers and toes in the mix.

After their first night of gymnastics, she"d have guessed it would be anti-climactic to stick to hands and mouths and long, slow, gentle fucks, but it wasn"t. Not at all.

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Destiny couldn"t remember ever