Far From Destined: A Promise Me Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  She put her hands over her mouth as she giggled, and I glared at her.

  “Dakota.”

  “They didn’t mention it. And the only person that I know we haven’t seen evidence of in the group is Nate. So, he may have a secret piercing for all I know.”

  “Please stop thinking about Nate’s dick.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  I pushed my hips against hers, and she moaned. “Speaking of things getting up,” I teased.

  “That was horrible.”

  I kissed her, biting at her lip. “You started it,” I growled.

  “I’m very sorry. I was trying to bring up the fact that I have a condom so you could fuck me.”

  “I love when you talk all dirty. Miss sweet and sassy.”

  She licked her lips. “I used to work in a kitchen when I was a teen. I learned all the dirty words.”

  “Why don’t you use them on me?” I mumbled.

  And then I was kissing her again, both of us naked, our bodies pressed against each other’s. I helped her slide the condom over my dick as I lay on my back, her hovering over me.

  “I want this in my mouth,” she whispered.

  “I’ve already tasted your pussy. One day, I’ll let you taste my cock.”

  “I’m happy you whispered that,” she moaned.

  “If you’re not careful, I’m going to make you scream.”

  “You can try,” she teased.

  And then I took her by the hips and slammed her down on my cock.

  I pressed my hand over her mouth to keep her scream muffled, and her eyes widened and then rolled to the back of her head. She clenched around my cock, coming from just the motion, and I groaned, doing my best not to come right along with her.

  I lowered my hand, and then she leaned over me, her breasts right in front of my face.

  I licked, sucked them each into my mouth as she rode me, both of us breathing in pants as we tried our best not to shout.

  When I was close, I pulled out of her and flipped us over so she was on all fours in front of me, and then I slammed home again.

  My hands dug into her hips as she pressed her face into the pillow, her moans and words muffled by the fabric.

  I bit my lip, doing my best not to make any noise, but it was hard. She was so wet, the sounds we made rough and echoing throughout the room.

  We were being as quiet as we could, but not silent enough.

  I kept moving, and when she pressed back against me, I swung my hand around and flicked my finger over her clit. She came again.

  This time, I followed her. As I did, I leaned over her, moaning into her back, doing my best not to be loud.

  I pulled out, leaning against the headboard as we both positioned ourselves so we were lying face-to-face.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “Yes. That.”

  I kissed her again, gently running my hands over her body and in between her legs.

  “Again?” she whispered.

  “Maybe,” I mumbled.

  And then I moved so my head was between her legs. I licked her up, just needing her taste. It was the only way to keep me quiet, by keeping my mouth on her pussy.

  She came again, this time moving a pillow over her face. I grinned, licking and eating my fill.

  Afterward, I cleaned us up and unlocked the door before slipping on my jeans. She slid on her pajamas.

  “Should I go back to the guest room?” I asked, unsure of what I wanted the answer to be.

  “He’s already seen you wake up beside me twice. Maybe you should go grab your pajamas and come back.”

  I looked up then, wondering what I might see, but the mask of Dakota’s fear was right back in place.

  I nodded, knowing we didn’t need answers just yet. We could take this slowly, even as we were careful.

  I grabbed my pajamas, slid them on, did my best not to worry about tomorrow, and then slipped back into bed next to her, holding her close.

  She fell asleep first, and I listened to the sounds of her breathing before it lulled me to surrender.

  I should’ve remembered that I did not get happily ever afters.

  I didn’t get peace.

  I should’ve remembered that my nightmares were real.

  I had lived them, and they were not letting go.

  Chapter 15

  Dakota

  * * *

  The groan woke me, pulling me from my dreams of heat and Macon. I turned over, only to sit up sharply as I looked over at the man next to me in bed. He tossed and turned, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw gritted so tightly I was afraid he might crack a molar.

  I didn’t know whether to wake him or let him sleep through the nightmare. I knew you weren’t supposed to wake sleepwalkers, and I always tried to wake Joshua out of his bad dreams—but this seemed like a night terror.

  Would trying to help make it worse?

  When Macon whimpered and whispered Cross’s name, I knew I needed to wake him up. I soothingly put my hand on his shoulder. “Macon. Baby. Wake up. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re okay.”

  He didn’t wake. Instead, he thrashed again, sweat covering his body and the sheets.

  Tension slid through me, and I bit my lip. “Macon.”

  He sat up, his fist coming at me. I ducked, but I needn’t have bothered. He stopped his motion before he got even close to me. His eyes went wide as he stared as if not seeing me until he blinked.

  “Jesus Christ. Are you okay? Did I get you?” His voice was gruff as if he had been screaming in his dreams and had somehow ravaged his throat.

  I let out a breath and then tentatively put my hand on his cheek. He flinched, and my heart broke just a little. But then he leaned into the touch and let out a breath.

  “Dakota. Did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head, grateful for the light coming through the curtains so he could see me. “You didn’t even touch me, Macon. You weren’t close to me. I promise. I was afraid to wake you in case something happened, but when you kept thrashing, I knew I needed to pull you out of your dreams. You’re safe. I’m only sorry I startled you.” My pulse continued to race, but not out of fear that he’d have hit me coming out of his nightmare, but because there was nothing I could do to make them go away completely.

  “Jesus, Dakota. I could’ve hurt you.”

  I kept my hands on him, needing to anchor myself as much as he did. “But you didn’t. You’re the one who was hurting. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We both know that sometimes nightmares don’t need to be spoken aloud.”

  Macon stared at me, blinking away his sleep, or perhaps the nightmare he struggled to pull himself away from completely. “I don’t know what I was dreaming. Not really. But they’re usually the same each time.”

  I kept my hand on his face and his chest, needing to touch him and know that he was whole. I hoped maybe he needed my touch, as well.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

  Macon shook his head. “No need to be sorry,” he said softly. “I know you’ve been through hell and back.”

  “Perhaps. But we all have our versions of hell. It doesn’t make anyone’s less traumatic.”

  He stared at me for a long moment before he pulled away slightly, his eyes going blank for a bit as if he were pulling up memories instead of staying in the here and now. “I remember everything about that day. I know they say sometimes you forget the most painful parts of your life, that your body and mind protect you. But that’s just bullshit.” He let out a laugh that held no humor.

  “I remember things they told me I shouldn’t, either,” I whispered.

  He met my gaze, the pain in his eyes palpable. “You understand. Not a lot of people would, but you do.” He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. He leaned forward and kissed me gently, and I pressed into him, knowing that he needed the touch as much as I did.

  He pulled away a
nd then let out a breath. “You know, other than Arden being sick, we had a normal life growing up. Nothing too scary.”

  I looked at him and let him speak, knowing he needed to get it out.

  “Arden was sick a lot as a kid, although I don’t know if it was just a weak immune system, or if her lupus had flared even then. Most people say you don’t deal with things like that until you’re older, but I don’t know. She was pretty sick when we were growing up. It only got worse after she got older and we tried to figure out how to help.”

  “She’s doing better now, though.” At least, I hoped so. I didn’t see Arden as much as the rest of Macon’s siblings, but when I did, she was always smiling, if a bit tired sometimes. But perhaps she was far better than the rest of us at putting on a brave face during the pain or when the world seemed to be breaking around us.

  “She is, with medicine, therapy, and being kinder to herself in the way she lives and endures. She closed herself off from the rest of the world for so long, and it wasn’t until she met Liam that she finally found a way out—if only for a little while.” He shook his head. “She wouldn’t let us pull her out. She hid from us just as much as she hid from the rest of the world, and I hated that I couldn’t help my baby sister. That I couldn’t help her find her place in the world. That I wasn’t able to hurt anybody that dared to come after her.”

  “You’re a good big brother. She knows that.”

  “Perhaps. But I didn’t always feel that way. Cross got angry. Prior tried to be the funny one and make her laugh. Nate is her twin, so they’ve always had a special connection. And I was the silent one. Even before the shooting. I’ve always been a little quieter than the rest of them, and I never really knew why. When I was younger, I thought perhaps it was just because I had settled into my skin before the others. And maybe I had. I’ve always been comfortable. I found my place and my passions and moved on in life. I figured out early on that I couldn’t break the world in order to save my sister, so I did my best to be there when she needed me, and not hover as much as Cross did.”

  “I’ve seen the way you are with her. You guys are a unit.”

  “We are. And our parents were always the same. The fact that Dad got that job and moved with Mom was probably the hardest thing they’ve ever done. They didn’t want to leave their baby girl.”

  “Or the rest of you,” I said.

  He snorted. “That’s true. I’ve always known that my parents love me. That’s never been a problem.”

  I tried to ignore the hurt at that. Because I knew my parents didn’t. Or at least they didn’t have the right kind of love. The type that would’ve let them stay and raise me in a loving and caring home.

  Macon frowned. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you think of your parents. Or to make it seem like my family is on some pedestal.”

  I shook my head quickly. “This isn’t about me. And, honestly? I like knowing that there are good families out there, even if mine wasn’t the best.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “Really. Don’t be. This isn’t about my childhood; it’s about you.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I pressed my lips together, not wanting to push him in any direction.

  “I had a good life, Dakota. Then everything changed. And I don’t know how to get back to the man I was before. Or if that’s even possible or something I want.” He let out a sigh, ran his hands through his hair and sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. I sat cross-legged next to him and listened, not knowing what else to do that might help.

  “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” I asked, knowing he was circling in other directions because he didn’t want to dive too deep. And I was fine with that, but I also wanted him to know that I was here for him.

  He looked at me then, the moonlight sliding over his face. Then he reached out and gripped my hand. “I remember every scream. I remember the feel of the air on my face when I walked into that building—the sense of confusion and near foreboding as I walked in with Hazel. I remember the smell of metal, of burnt flesh. I remember the pain—all of it. Hazel’s ex shot me because I was in the way. He and Cross’s former partner tried to take my life because they wanted Hazel or money or whatever the hell they wanted that they put above my life. And I wasn’t even a blip on their radar.”

  I didn’t say anything. Instead, I just leaned into him, letting him know that I was there. I knew the details of what had happened. I’d nearly lost my best friend because of the shooting. And I’d almost lost Macon and Cross before I even truly got to know them.

  Macon continued. “They dragged me out to the back of the building. I didn’t know what their plans were beyond wanting me out of the entryway. I tried to crawl away after they left, likely deciding I was too heavy to take any farther, but I didn’t have the strength. When Cross came, I remember him screaming and saying my name. I have flashes of it all.” He paused, and I squeezed his hand, my heart breaking all over again as he recounted the tragic event. “And then Cross left after I told him to go. I knew right then that I was going to die. That no one would be sitting next to me as I faded into whatever existence comes after this one. And I made that choice. To tell Cross that he needed to go and find Hazel. That he needed to save her.”

  “And I’ll always be grateful that you were there to help save my best friend,” I said, tears sliding down my face as I placed my palm on his cheek. “But I also hate that you had to make that choice. That I almost lost you before I even got to know you.”

  I hadn’t meant to admit that part, but I knew it was the truth.

  I was falling in love with this man. I knew, down to the depths of my soul, that I needed him.

  And yet, this wasn’t the time for that. I shouldn’t and couldn’t fall. It would be a mistake.

  But it wasn’t as if I could stop myself.

  “When the paramedics came with Cross’s neighbor, that’s when I started to fade a bit. I was in and out of consciousness, but I remember the parts I was awake for. The fact that I threw up and tried to apologize even as they put an IV in to send me to sleep.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry, too. That I wasn’t able to save Hazel, but I am glad that Cross was there to do it. I hated that there was so much blood. That Cross had to start his business and his life basically from scratch all over again because of someone else’s actions and choices.”

  “But they weren’t yours,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know that. I think it took me a while to talk it out with my therapist and realize that what happened wasn’t my fault. That I didn’t have to be strong enough to protect Hazel. That I did the right thing.”

  My brows furrowed. “You thought you needed to be strong enough to protect her yourself?” I asked, confused.

  “I think some part of me thought I needed to be stronger than a bullet, or faster, in order to stop the man from hurting her. It was the same idea I had where if I had been strong enough, maybe my brother wouldn’t have nearly died.”

  “Macon,” I began, but he shook his head.

  “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. But I don’t think it’s supposed to. I can’t help where my mind goes. And talking it out with my therapist has helped over time. But I still have dreams. So many fucking nightmares.”

  “But not every night,” I said, knowing I had to be right as this wasn’t the first time he’d slept next to me. Or perhaps it was only a deep-seated wish that he not suffer each and every night. I hated the idea that he was in pain every day, and hoped that he could rest at some point.

  “True. Not every night. Sometimes, it’s worse than others, though. This was my first one under this roof. I’m just sorry you had to witness it while sleeping next to me.”

  “I’m sorry that you have them at all. It doesn’t seem fair,” I said.

  “I’m still here. I suppose that has to count for something.”

  I reached out and
cupped his face. “True, but I wish I could take away your pain. You’ve done so much for me. For Joshua. I just wish there was something I could do for you.”

  He leaned forward and took my lips. “Just be with me. That’s all I need. Let me know I can stay.”

  Always.

  I didn’t say it. I wanted to. But I was so afraid.

  Because what would happen when we took care of Adam and we were safe? What would happen when there wasn’t a wolf knocking at the door?

  But I didn’t think that. Instead, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  He kissed me back, a little harder than usual, and I let him. He needed this moment, this touch, and if I were honest with myself, so did I.

  Macon lowered me to my back and hovered over me, taking my lips. I let my hands drift up and down his back, soothing him even as I did the same for myself.

  He deepened the kiss, angling my head to capture more. And then his lips trailed down my body, and he tugged my tank top away from my breasts, lapping at my nipples, sucking at them. He pinched the turgid points, the sensation going straight to my core. I arched into him, needing him more. He shoved off the tank top completely, my breasts falling free, and he kept playing, pleasuring.

  He licked down my belly, biting at the waistband of my pajama pants. When he pulled them off, along with my panties, he dove between my legs, going down on me as if it had been years since he’d tasted me, and not mere hours.

  I wrapped my legs around his shoulders, tangling my hand in his hair. He kept sucking, my pussy tightening as he thrust one finger, and then another. He continued to feast, licking me until I came, my whole body shaking. But when he rose to kneel and pull down his pajama pants, I shook my head. He frowned at me.

  “Let me,” I said, and then I knelt in front of him, sliding his pajama pants down his body, and watching as his cock sprang free.

  I took him in hand, my fingers barely touching around his girth, and licked around the tip of his cock.

  “Be careful of your teeth,” he warned.

  “I’ll be gentle.” I teased the ring at the tip. He moaned, sliding his hand into my hair, and I gripped his hip before swallowing him. I was careful, going slowly so I didn’t hurt myself or him, but I hollowed my cheeks, humming along his length.