Destiny Calls by Samantha Wayland (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📗

could feel the tingles at the base of his spine and ruthlessly ignored them. He wanted to stay like this forever. To fuck Brandon and Destiny forever. He refused to give over to his climax.

Brandon, though, had other ideas. “Now! Fuck, I"m going to come now!” he cried hoarsely, hips bucking, the muscles of his stretched ass clamping tight, locking down around Patrick"s cock.

Shit. Lightning shot from Patrick"s balls, bowing his spine and arching his neck even as it raced down his cock. His cum boiled out of him, pulse after pulse as Brandon pushed back, taking him as deep as he could go, the jerk of his hips dragging him further into bliss.

Destiny"s cry was sweet in his ear, his name beautiful on her lips, as she followed them over the edge.

It was perfect. More than he"d ever hoped for.

His entire body shuddered one last time and his muscles went lax. Christ, he was going to collapse.

Pulling his still mostly erect cock from Brandon"s sweet ass, he fell to the side, feeling both sorry and infinitely satisfied when Brandon moaned at the loss.

The moment he landed on the mattress, he reached out to haul them close. Brandon rolled to him first, capturing his mouth in a soul-sucking kiss that spoke volumes.

Then Destiny was there, her tongue tangled with theirs, her body stretched along his other side.

There were no words. There was only happiness.

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Destiny lay in a pile of bodies, her lovers" limbs wrapped around hers, warming her, and felt the sweet lethargy seep away. Brandon was snoring softly, his face buried against Patrick"s chest, glowing with pleasure even in sleep.

Patrick"s eyes were heavy, sinking closed quickly. Soon he would be as dead asleep as Brandon. She couldn"t blame either one of them. Reaching up, she ran her hand down his cheek.

“What is it, Des?”

“I love you.” She didn"t know why she said it, but it was true. She"d always loved him. And Brandon. And in that quiet dark she felt the need to say it.

Patrick smiled, his eyes closed. “I love you, too, Des. You and Bran. Always. You"re it for me,” he said quietly, his voice soft and deep, near sleep.

She stilled, the warm glow slipping a little. “What?” she asked, unsure she"d heard him correctly or that he"d meant it the way it sounded.

Patrick shifted, settling himself deeper into his pillow while pulling her and Brandon closer. “You and Brandon are my life,” he muttered.

She was wide awake now. “You mean like friends, right?”

“I mean like happily ever after,” he mumbled, smiling into the pillow. “Destiny.” Somehow she didn"t think he was saying her name.

For a moment, she was struck dumb. By the time she opened her mouth to utter whatever protest she could muster through her rioting fear, Patrick"s breath had gone deep and even. His face relaxed.

He was asleep. That fucking jerk ruined everything and then fell asleep?

She thought about shaking him awake. About railing against him and his stupidity.

Instead she looked at Brandon curled up next to him and paused.

They were beautiful. Perfect.

She didn"t need to yell. To scream and shout. She needed to leave.

He was talking about love. Romantic love. Real, live, big, scary love. She couldn"t do that. She would never allow herself to be vulnerable like that to anyone. Let alone two people.

Damn him! He knew that. They both did. How could they forget the lessons they"d learned at the hands and knees and lawyers" offices of their lousy fucking parents?

She could still picture the courtroom the day her parents had bitterly fought over who would get custody of her. Their seemingly happy marriage had burned to ashes the year she"d turned fifteen. Then the battles had begun.

Only, they hadn"t been fighting over who got to have her with them. They"d fought to force the other to take custody, both eager to rid themselves of the burden of parenthood. Both so mired in their hatred for each other, they saw her as part of the person they were desperate to leave behind.

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No marriage was safe. No love foolproof or guaranteed.

She knew that better than anyone.

People said all was fair in love and war. She"d long ago sworn she"d never be a casualty again.

And now this.

God, how could she have been so stupid? She couldn"t decide who she was angrier at, herself or Patrick.

This was supposed to have been fun. Friendship, sex. Heck, even affection and the intimacy of being with someone you trust. Not love. Never love.

She paused, recalling the idiots yelling at each other in the kitchen earlier. Thought about how it had been her telling Patrick that she loved him just minutes ago that had sparked his stupid-ass confession.

So, okay, there was love. But not the bad kind, the kind that made you vulnerable.

The kind that made you make promises you couldn"t keep. The kind that lowered your guard so that you ignored the obvious signs that your lover is a lying cheat. Love brainwashed people into believing there was such a thing as happily ever after and people who would take care of you forever.

Well, now she was sure of one thing. She was definitely angrier at Patrick than anyone else on earth.

Crawling from the bed and away from Patrick and Brandon, she shushed Farley back onto his big pillow. She ignored the tears streaming down her cheeks while hauling her bag from the bottom of the closet, then crept around the room, stuffing it with everything of hers she could find. She couldn"t stand the idea of coming back for it.

For the first time in her life, she was running away from this house, not to it.

Brandon woke before the sun was up the next day. It took him a moment to orient himself. He was pretty sure he"d passed out in sexual bliss the night before. That his face was hermetically sealed to Patrick"s chest was a good clue that he hadn"t gone far since, if he"d moved at all.

Peeling himself