Destiny Calls

by Samantha Wayland

  Wanting more, he cupped Brandon"s jaw firmly, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue along Brandon"s, smiling when Brandon hummed in response. Patrick could relate. The need was humming through his own body like sound waves through water, his nerve endings vibrating, his cock lengthening and thickening to the point where it was barely contained beneath his thin shorts.

  He dragged Brandon closer and thrust his tongue into every corner of his mouth.

  Brandon"s thick shoulder beneath his fingers was distracting. So different than Destiny.

  More overt strength, more muscle. So much more resistance. Not that Brandon was resisting, he thought as Brandon"s hands skimmed up under his t-shirt, but the potential power was intoxicating.

  Pulling back, he stood, quickly shucking his shirt before reaching for the sheets and whipping them down the bed and off Brandon"s lap. Brandon sat with his legs folded in front of him, his eyes roving over Patrick"s bare chest, lingering on the front of his severely tented shorts, then traveling back up again. Brandon wore only a pair of boxer briefs and there was no mistaking his erection pressing up against the thin cotton.

  Patrick"s confidence fled in an instant. What the hell was he doing? He"d never even touched another man. What was he supposed to do now?

  Brandon"s face transformed from intense arousal to serious calm. “We don"t have to go any further.”

  Patrick"s heart and cock lurched, both wanting more. The question was, more what?

  He hadn"t been this unsure in a passionate moment since his earliest high school days.

  “I want to,” he said, still not moving. Shit. He wasn"t sending very convincing signals, was he?

  “Are you sure? We can stop if you"re not comfortable.”

  “Yes,” he said quickly. Brandon looked away and drew a deep, steadying breath and he knew Brandon had misunderstood. Touching his shoulder, Patrick waited until 68

  Destiny Calls

  Brandon faced him. “I mean, yes, I"m sure. And no, I don"t want to stop. I just don"t know what the hell I"m doing.” And he felt like a complete bumbling idiot.

  He didn"t share the bumbling idiot part out loud, though. He was pretty sure Brandon had that figured out on his own.

  Brandon"s smile was sweet and reassuring, even if it did smack of the kind of thing a husband might bestow on his nervous virgin bride. “We"ll go slow, okay? If you get freaked out, we"ll stop.”

  “Okay.” He knew he should move, but he remained frozen to the spot.

  “I"m going to take these off,” Brandon said, gesturing to his underwear and drawing Patrick"s gaze back to Brandon"s erection.

  “Okay.” Patrick wanted to cringe when he heard how high his voice had risen. He didn"t, though. He was already uncool enough, thanks.

  Brandon knelt and slowly drew off his boxer briefs. When his cock bobbed into view, Patrick fought years of men"s restroom and locker room training and didn"t look away. It was…nice. Beautiful, actually. It strained away from Brandon"s tight-ridged stomach, the long, hard shaft riddled with veins.

  Patrick"s mouth went bone-dry and he licked his lips, trying to revive their moisture. Brandon"s cock nodded in response, sending a bolt of arousal straight down his spine and into his balls. He knew what it was like to have his muscles tighten and his cock wave like that. That the simple act of licking his lips was enough to fire off that response in Brandon was incredibly sexy. Empowering.

  He"d never considered that so much of a woman"s body was a mystery to him—to any man. But another man"s body he understood. He could read the signs of Brandon"s arousal easily, because those same physical responses to need and desire were mirrored in his own body.

  Looking at Brandon, he also realized there was so much he already knew about this man in particular. Reaching out, his hand floating over Brandon"s straining cock, he traced one finger along Brandon"s appendix scar.

  “I can still picture you doubled over in the hallway outside math class, demanding I help you to your desk rather than take you to the nurse"s office.” Patrick smiled as he recalled it, as if it were yesterday.

  “You didn"t listen, though, did you?” Brandon"s voice was rough, his need plain.

  Patrick felt an answering tug in his gut even as he smiled over Brandon"s indignation—then and now.

  “Nurse Ratched was awful,” Brandon said with a grimace. “You had to strong-arm her into calling an ambulance.”

  “Thank god I did. Your appendix almost burst.” He would never forget Brandon screaming in agony the entire way to the hospital. He"d been scared witless, waiting in the ER until they had come to tell him Brandon would be okay. He"d stood by Brandon"s bedside waiting for him to wake up and wondering whether his parents 69

  Samantha Wayland

  would ever bother to show up. He"d never been more relieved than the moment Aunt Ethel had barged into the room, informing the nurses that she was the closest thing to family that these boys had or were going to get.

  He knew just by looking at Brandon"s face that he was remembering the same things.

  Drawing his hand up Brandon"s chest, he scraped a nail over one hard nipple before tracing his fingers down another scar, this one along Brandon"s shoulder. “I remember you dislocating this. I tried to tell you that a real sport like baseball would be better, but you had to do lacrosse.”

  “I like lacrosse,” Brandon defended. As always.

  It was an ancient argument. A long-running joke. The only part that hadn"t been funny was Brandon"s surgery to repair his rotator cuff. Patrick had visited him in the hospital that time too. He and Destiny had brought his homework and books, magazines and Aunt Ethel"s peach cobbler. They had even managed to bury their rage when Brandon casually mentioned that his parents hadn"t visited in a few days.

  He and Destiny had visited every day.

  Then he pictured Brandon as he and Destiny had found him a few days ago, bruised and pale against the cold white sheets and metal rails of the hospital gurney.

  His finger skated over the cut still healing on Brandon"s forehead.

  “I don"t ever want to visit you in the hospital again, okay? I swear to god, I age ten years every time.” His voice was hoarse. Looking down into Brandon"s bright green eyes, he could see his friend understood. Maybe too well.

  God, what the hell am I getting myself into? For the first time, Patrick realized he really didn"t know, but it wasn"t just some adventure as Destiny liked to believe.

  Brandon leaned forward to press his lips to Patrick"s rather than saying anything in response to Patrick"s admission. Patrick was grateful. He was covering a lot of new and shaky ground and he appreciated Brandon not trying to push.

  Wrapping his arms around Brandon, he carefully pulled him forward until their chests met, the air leaving Brandon in a gasp as his cock tickled along Patrick"s abdomen. Patrick"s cock rose in response, his heart beating like a drum as he lowered his mouth to Brandon"s, capturing his lips in a deep and thorough kiss. It wasn"t enough. Smoothing his hands lower on Brandon"s strong back, he skimmed them over the firm globes of his ass, cupping the clenched muscles and dragging their bodies closer until they were flush, their cocks pressed between them, the thin cotton of Patrick"s shorts the only thing separating them.

  With the return of powerful arousal came the loss of his nervousness. In an instant, his shorts went from being a shield he"d clung to in the face of his uncertainty, to being an irritant he wanted gone as soon as possible. He wanted to free his straining cock and grind it against Brandon"s belly. He wanted to feel Brandon"s hand wrap around him and draw along the thousands of nerve endings screaming for his touch. For release. He wanted to touch and explore and experience it all.

  70

  Destiny Calls

  Brandon rocked his hips, his cock trapped between their bodies, the smooth, swollen head tracing a line of moisture along Patrick"s electrified skin as he devoured Brandon"s mouth. Brandon"s thrusts took up the rhythm set by the plunge and retreat of their tongues, mimicking an act
that Patrick had never dreamed of doing with a man before two weeks ago.

  But boy, he was dreaming about it now.

  Brandon"s head spun from the deluge of emotion and need slamming through his body. His heart hurt from hearing the entreaty in Patrick"s voice when he"d admitted he couldn"t stand another visit to the hospital. Patrick wasn"t one for putting his feelings out there. At least, not like that. Not verbally. He was outgoing, gregarious even, and blessed with a quick wit that often couldn"t keep up with his even quicker mouth, but he wasn"t much for deep emotions and tenderness.

  At least, he never had been before. Brandon had long envied the special bond Patrick and Destiny shared, while never being able to pinpoint exactly what it was.

  Now he knew. Behind closed doors, in the safety of his bedroom, with the heat of passion and the trust of intimacy, Patrick was… sweet.

  It was unexpected. Almost as unexpected as discovering that he could fall further in love than he already had been.

  He was so fucking screwed.

  He was never going to get out of this in one piece, but he no longer cared. Because while his mind grasped the truth of what he was getting into, the rest of him, like his heart and certain other, more impatient body parts, were distracted by more pressing matters. Not the least of which were their mouths and tongues dancing in a ferocious kiss designed to blow the top of his head off and Patrick"s enormous cock jammed hard up against his.

  After years of ignoring it, telling himself not to look, not to stare and definitely not to touch, he was stupidly giddy with the prospect of being able to reach between their bodies and wrap his hand around Patrick"s cock. Patrick"s hands on his ass were grinding them so tightly together, though, Brandon couldn"t figure out how exactly to get his hands on Patrick. Then Patrick tore his mouth away and stepped back.

  Brandon wanted to reach out, to shout his denial at the loss of contact, but stopped himself. He couldn"t pressure Patrick, no matter how the need beat at him. He had to let Patrick set the pace, even if Brandon wanted to fall to his knees and beg.

  Come to that, if he were to fall to his knees in front of Patrick, there were a few things he"d like to do while he was down there.

  When Patrick"s hands went to his shorts and started to pull them down, Brandon stopped breathing. His eyes devoured every inch of skin as it was revealed, his brain racing to absorb the beauty, to memorize each detail and the response of his own body as it clenched with anticipation and need. Finally Patrick"s cock slid free of the confining cotton and Brandon"s eyes locked onto it, his brain came to a grinding halt.

  71

  Samantha Wayland

  Whoa.

  Brandon knew his mouth hung open, but he couldn"t help it. He"d never seen anything like it. His gaze was riveted on the longest, thickest cock he"d ever seen.

  Whoa.

  Patrick was tall—well over six feet—with broad shoulders and a deep chest. Most tall men were lanky, but Patrick carried thick-muscled strength through his shoulders and down his flanks, across his tightly ridged belly and into his thighs. He was just a really big, strong man. And he had the big, thick cock to go with it.

  Glancing up, he watched Patrick pay a whole lot of attention to carefully folding and throwing his shorts onto the chair, his hands busy, his eyes intent on his task and generally doing anything he could to not look at him. There were large red spots on his cheeks.

  He was embarrassed?

  Patrick moved forward slowly, turning so that his massive erection bumped against Brandon"s. Brandon was grateful they both ignored it when he made a weird gurgling sound.

  Christ, he couldn"t resist. As if drawn by a magnet, he brought his hand up and curled his fingers around the long, thick shaft. Brandon wasn"t a small guy and he didn"t have small hands, but he almost couldn"t close the circle of his fingers around Patrick"s cock. Even then, the grip was tight and covered remarkably little of the length.

  His other hand enfolded the rest before he dragged his palm up and over the head.

  “Sweet fucking Jesus, Patrick.”

  Patrick face reddened further, the deep color moving into his brow and neck.

  “What?”

  “I thought… I mean, I"d guessed that you"d be… I"d seen enough in the locker room, but I never…” Fuckin’ A. He forced himself to stop babbling and tried to rein in his thoughts. He"d never been fixated on size, but Patrick"s considerable…ness…had scrambled his brains. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “So much for the Irish curse, huh?”

  Patrick"s face flamed bright red.

  Brandon couldn"t contain his laughter even as he continued to run his hands up and over the curseless member in question. “Why the hell are you embarrassed? Most men would be elated. Hell, most men would be taking out an ad on the front page of The Boston Globe.”

  Patrick looked down his body, his brows drawn together as he stared at Brandon"s hands wrapped around his cock. His self-conscious shrug might have been the single most endearing thing he"d ever done. “It"s not all it"s cracked up to be.”

  “It"s not?” Brandon asked as he tightened his grip and stroked Patrick hand-over-hand again, relishing the reactions skittering across Patrick"s expressive face, pleased that embarrassment was giving way to arousal.

  72

  Destiny Calls

  It took Patrick a moment to gather enough breath to answer. “Some women can"t…um…enjoy…I can hurt them. I bump against the end of their vagina, against their cervix, and that can hurt. They don"t know that their bodies can stretch to accommodate me if they try. If I go slowly. I"m always careful, I try to explain, but some won"t even let me come near them once they"ve seen it.” He stopped stroking Patrick, stunned, and searched his face. “Really? ”

  “Really,” Patrick said.

  “Whatever happened to size mattering?” Brandon asked, half joking and wondering about the resignation in Patrick"s tone.

  Patrick"s huff of laughter was tinged with bitterness. “Only so much, apparently.” There were shadows lurking in Patrick"s eyes. Some silly woman had hurt him and it pissed Brandon off. “What about Destiny? She doesn"t seem to mind.” At the mention of Destiny"s name, coupled with another strong pull on his shaft, Patrick"s head fell back. He moaned and laughed at the same time. “She doesn"t mind.

  She"s used to me and, actually, she sometimes likes it when I bump her cervix. God, Bran,” he said on a long groan as Brandon continued his torment, “you should see her.

  It makes her wild. Always has.”

  Brandon hoped to see Destiny like that soon. Very soon. Then he imagined himself stretching to accommodate Patrick and his breath hissed out between his teeth. He couldn"t wait. He wanted it now.

  He tugged Patrick once, hard, to get his attention. Patrick"s head came up and their eyes met. “For what it"s worth, you won"t scare me away either.” Patrick stared down into Brandon"s eyes. “Good.”

  Patrick"s heart galloped in his chest, his lingering embarrassment lost to the shining promise in Bran"s eyes. His hands were doing incredible things, pulling and tugging, sliding and gripping. Patrick"s skin felt tight, his entire body throbbed.

  His always active imagination was in overdrive, thinking of all he wanted to do. To try. Of all the variations of lovemaking available to two healthy, flexible bodies. Then he thought of all the variations available to three and a bolt of pure excitement stroked down his spine and up his cock, still clenched in Brandon"s warm, wicked fingers.

  Fuck, he couldn"t wait for Destiny to get home.

  Brandon dipped his head, pulling one of Patrick"s nipples into his hot mouth.

  Okay, he really could not wait for Destiny to get home. His balls were already tight to his body, his cock achingly full. But more than that, he needed to touch Brandon. To begin to learn all there was to know about this man.

  Climbing up onto the bed, he forced Brandon to crawl back until they were in the middle of the king-sized mattress. Once he got that far, though, he wasn"t sure where to go
next. It wasn"t just his lack of experience, though that didn"t help. It was that his control was frayed enough that he worried he"d hurt one of Brandon"s injuries.

  73

  Samantha Wayland

  Brandon, on the other hand, didn"t hesitate. He pushed Patrick back until he was on his ass, his legs sprawled with Brandon kneeling between them.

  The hunger in Brandon"s eyes was mesmerizing. When Brandon lifted one brow, Patrick jerked his head up and down in some semblance of a nod, hoping like hell he understood what Brandon was asking. His muscles clenched, begging for Brandon to touch him. Taste him. Do anything to him.

  Brandon slowly wrapping one hand around the base of Patrick"s shaft before bringing his face within inches of it. Patrick held himself perfectly still as Brandon hovered there, his breath brushing across the sensitive head, drawing out the culmination of what was becoming painful anticipation. Patrick"s thighs began to shake, quaking with excitement.

  A plea locked in his throat, he forced down the urge to thrust his hips up, to push his cock past Brandon"s waiting lips and down his throat. He wanted this. He wanted Brandon"s lips on every inch of his skin, starting with the inches clasped in his fingers.

  Patrick could already imagine the moist heat enveloping his shaft.

  The reality was better than anything he might have dreamed.

  Without so much as a preparatory lick, Brandon dropped his head and took Patrick deep. Patrick shouted out his pleasure, his head falling back, his eyes squeezed shut as Brandon attempted to suck out his soul.

  Not that he cared. Brandon could have it.

  The hand clamped around the base of his cock prevented his bucking hips from forcing himself further than Brandon could take. Which wasn"t saying much, since, god help him, Brandon could take him a hell of a lot further than he"d ever been.