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

off, but all the nights he"d lain alone in his bed, wishing Destiny was there with him, weighed heavily.

Destiny covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled. “I"m such an idiot! I can"t believe I"ve been lying awake at night, taking care of my own needs, when you"ve been holding back.”

The image of her pleasuring herself distracted him. He pictured the times he"d laid beside her and watched her do just that. God, he loved how her face glowed as her need mounted. He wanted to see that again. Soon. Like now. But before he could do anything about it, and boy did he have some ideas in that department, she dropped her hands and looked up at him.

“I thought you didn"t want me anymore.” Her voice was soft. Hurt.

Damn. He was the idiot. “Kitten, how could you possibly think that? You"re the sexiest woman I"ve ever known. I"ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.” For a shocking moment, Brandon"s image flashed through his mind, but he slammed the door on his errant conscience. He"d think about that another time. Right 22

Destiny Calls

now, he wanted to focus on the only other person on earth who knew all his secrets—

knew everything about him, inside and out.

“God, Patrick. I want you too. I always do.” He could barely hear her over the pounding of his heart.

Her eyes, dark with arousal, met his. “I"m glad,” he said. His voice was rough. It was hard to talk when all he wanted was snatch her up out of her chair and press every inch of her body to his.

And why the fuck am I not doing just that?

He crossed the kitchen in three strides, her fingers spearing into his hair, their lips meeting before his knees had even hit the cool wood floor in front of her chair. His hands grasped her hips and hauled her against him.

No one had ever tasted like Destiny. No one kissed with so much abandon. So much passion. Their tongues warred, their noses rubbing as she changed the angle again and again, driving the action with her hands, her lips, her legs where they wrapped around his waist. For the second time that night, he lost himself in the simple pleasure of a kiss. His fingers clenched into her soft flesh, her skirt bunched beneath his hands, begging him to pull it up to her waist and reveal the secrets it hid from his view.

But he couldn"t. Not yet. All he could do now was kiss her back.

When she tore her mouth away, he growled, long and low. She pressed her palms to his cheeks to keep him from diving back in.

“Wait!” She gasped, breathless. He felt a bone-deep satisfaction that she wasn"t any more immune to the explosive chemistry between them than he was. “We can"t do this.

I can"t do this!”

His heart plummeted while still pounding out the beat of his arousal. “Why not, Des?”

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, clearly trying to stay in control. “I want you more than I can say. God, I want you in me so much, Patrick. But I won"t be a surrogate for whatever is happening between you and Bran. It wouldn"t be fair to any of us.” She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. “And I"m definitely not going to be the means by which you prove to yourself you"re straight. You need to think about what happened tonight. About Brandon.”

He wanted to protest. To rail and beg and do whatever it took to convince Destiny that she was never going to be anyone"s surrogate in this mind or his heart. But then, he couldn"t deny how thinking about the thing with Brandon was making his need greater, his cock harder. He knew he wasn"t misplacing his passion. He knew that without question. And he needed her to know that, too.

Sighing, he leaned back, pulling his aching body away from hers. “You"re right, Kitten, that wouldn"t be fair. I won"t lie, I"ve been riding this fucking erection for hours and Brandon started it, but I swear to you I"m not trying to prove anything. I just want to be with you. You. If tonight had never happened, I would have wanted to be with you.”

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“I want to believe you. Hell, I do believe you,” she said, unwinding her legs from around his ribs and rising to her feet, the chair scraping back over the old plank floor.

He saw how her knees shook and knew she was hurting as much as he was. “But I think it"s better if I go home.”

Damn.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her legs and plead with her to stay. Wanted to bury his face in her soft belly and hide from what he"d done. Wanted to thrust his cock in her warm, welcoming heat and forget the night had ever happened.

Which meant she was right. She had to go home.

Tilting his face up, he attempted a smile as she bent to kiss his cheek.

He was still kneeling on the kitchen floor, his hands clenched in fists of frustrated need, when he heard the front door quietly close behind her.

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Chapter Three

Patrick knew he was a complete jerk. He couldn"t even pretend otherwise, but goddamn it, he couldn"t seem to stop.

He and Brandon worked in the same building, for Christ"s sake, and Patrick had now managed to successfully avoid his best friend for three days. And the worst part of it was, there was no way Brandon didn"t know it, since in all the years of being in the same precinct, they"d never gone three days without at least bumping into each other.

Their world at work just wasn"t that large. And since they normally made a point of checking in, maybe grabbing lunch on days they were both in-house midday, it wasn"t like the lack of contact was anything short of glaring.

Guilt ate at him. He felt like a