Destiny Calls

by Samantha Wayland

  It was incredible. Mind-blowing.

  Brandon set a swift pace, pulling back with a tremendous upward suck that brought Patrick"s ass off the bed in an attempt to follow. How could he not? No one in their right mind would willingly give up so much pleasure.

  Then Brandon was swooping down on him, taking in more each time. Patrick was reduced to panting, his breath rasping in his lungs, his heart pounding in his chest, his hips jerking in response to the sensations whipping at his body, along his cock. He lifted his head, his gaze riveted on Brandon"s stretched lips.

  “My god, you"re beautiful,” Patrick groaned.

  Brandon blinked, almost smiling, but never letting up. His cheeks hollowed with each suck, his tongue running along the underside of Patrick"s shaft with each plunge.

  Patrick couldn"t stop writhing beneath the onslaught of Brandon"s loving, his need to tell his friend what this meant, how he felt, coming out in a litany of moans and mutters. He praised Bran"s skill, his talented fucking mouth, he urged him on and begged him not to stop.

  74

  Destiny Calls

  Running his hand over Brandon"s jaw, along his cheek and through his hair, Patrick fought an overpowering need to seize the curls and hold Brandon"s head steady while he fucked those ridiculously clever lips.

  Then he was deeper still, the crown of his cock bumping against the back of Brandon"s throat before the muscles clamped around him with a swallow.

  “Oh fuck. Oh my god. Brandon!” he shouted, wishing he could find better words, desperate to make Brandon understand how good it felt.

  Patrick tried to hold on, tried to make this last for as long as possible, but was soon on the verge, his climax roaring up on him. Brandon was relentless, completely focused on continuing this exquisite torture. Patrick"s balls pulled tight to his body, his back arching with the coming explosion. The physical sensations were huge, but the fact that it was Brandon was what really rocked him.

  Perhaps sensing him teetering on the edge, Brandon stopped his driving thrusts, his lips firmly circling the ridge crowning Patrick"s cock, his hand cupping Patrick"s balls and tugging down. The gentle traction forced a groan from deep in his chest, the sound strangling in his throat when Brandon"s tongue danced around the soft head, tickling the sensitive divot underneath, tracing the slit and gathering the moisture oozing from his aching shaft.

  Fuck. There weren"t words currently in the English language that could describe what Brandon could do with his mouth. His tongue.

  Patrick could see the red spots on Brandon"s cheeks, felt Brandon"s breath gusting over his cock, and knew he was battling back his own needs to see to Patrick"s. It wasn"t at all what Patrick wanted. He wanted to touch Brandon. To attempt to give Brandon one tenth of the pleasure he was currently drowning in.

  Patrick didn"t want it to be all about him. He wanted it to be about them.

  Clinging to what little control he had left to him, he grasped Brandon"s wide shoulders, marveling again at the strength beneath his fingers, before running his hands down Brandon"s broad, muscled back. He tried to reach Bran"s cock, but even with his height, his arms weren"t long enough.

  Brandon looked up, letting Patrick"s cock slip from his lips with a pop.

  “Jesus, Bran. That was… I"ve never felt anything like that.” Brandon"s smile was smug, one brow lifting. “Good.” Jesus. He wanted to laugh. Wanted to shove his cock back into Brandon"s incredible mouth. But he also wanted to touch and taste for himself. He couldn"t believe he"d been so blind. He"d wasted years, decades, when he could have been with Brandon.

  Determined not to waste another second, he forced Brandon to sit up until he could wrap his hand around Brandon"s cock. It was warm, hard, unfamiliar, but not strange.

  There was a slight curve to the shaft and the veins stood out in greater profile than his own, the head more purple than red.

  75

  Samantha Wayland

  Having had similar equipment his entire life, he hadn"t thought it would be so fascinating. He ran his fingertips up the shaft, his thumb finding the hollow beneath and settling there, rubbing back and forth.

  Brandon"s head rolled back on his shoulders, his eyes closed as the air left his lungs in a long hiss. “God. I"ve waited so long,” Brandon groaned as Patrick smoothed his hand along Brandon"s shaft once more.

  The admission surprised and pleased Patrick, even as it brought home the fact that he was a complete fucking idiot. “I„m sorry. I didn"t know.” Brandon"s head came up, their eyes locking.

  He thought Brandon might have just realized what he"d admitted. He didn"t want Brandon to regret his honesty. “Thank you,” Patrick said, genuinely grateful in more ways than he could express.

  “For what?” Brandon asked.

  “For being patient. For waiting,” Patrick said, methodically rubbing the divot beneath Brandon"s shining crown once more while he considered how much to say.

  “For not walking away two weeks ago when I lost my fucking mind. I"m sorry about that, Bran. I"m sorry it took me so long to figure all this out.” Brandon continued staring at him, wide-eyed and silent, and Patrick couldn"t look away from the dilated pupils and vibrant green irises burning with a hunger matching his own. He watched, captivated, as those eyes narrowed in response to his hand working the length of Brandon"s cock again then gathering the moisture beaded in the slit to ease the friction for the next long stroke.

  There was more he wanted to tell Brandon. More emotions bottled up in his chest that were pushing their way to the surface. Their momentum seemed to grow with every kiss. Each touch.

  As a rule, Patrick let himself say what he was thinking, no matter what, but this time he had the sense to hold his tongue. Not only because whatever came out might scare Brandon away, but because some of it scared the shit out of him too.

  In spite of his inner turmoil he kept his movements languid, trying to regain his focus while enjoying the reactions to his touch as they played across Brandon"s face. His jaw tightened, his cheek clenching as he stared down at what Patrick was doing.

  Patrick smiled. Time to move on.

  Increasing the pace, he worked at Brandon until his mouth fell open, his panting breathing audible over the pulse pounding in Patrick"s ears. He went faster still, observing every nuance of Brandon"s face as he grew ever closer to his climax. Patrick"s other hand came up to cup Brandon"s balls, rolling them over his fingers.

  Brandon was close. Patrick wanted to see it, maybe even to taste it. He looked down at Brandon"s cock in his hand in consideration.

  Brandon grabbed his wrists, bringing his plan to a halt. “I won"t last long,” he gasped.

  76

  Destiny Calls

  “So don"t,” Patrick urged, trying to return to what he was doing.

  “No. I want to wait.” Brandon eased him away from his cock with a firm hand.

  Wait for what?

  He watched Brandon collect himself for a few moments, then crawl to the edge of the bed and yank open the little drawer in his bedside table. He pulled out the tube of lubricant and Patrick"s belly knotted.

  Suddenly he felt as nervous as a virgin. Shit, in this case he was a virgin.

  “You been snooping in my stuff?” he asked, doing a lousy job of hiding his nerves with not-so-witty banter.

  “Yep,” Brandon replied without a trace of remorse as he crawled back over the bed, grabbing pillows en route and stuffing them between Patrick"s back and the sleigh bed"s curved footboard.

  Patrick didn"t move, his heart pounding as Brandon sat facing him, stretching out his legs so that they slid over his, Brandon"s calves against his hips. Brandon dropped the lube on the bed beside them while Patrick was desperately telling himself to be calm, not to be nervous. He had no fucking idea what Brandon had in mind. Anxiety and anticipation made a heady brew.

  He could hardly breathe as Brandon slid his ass forward, his knees coming up to cage Patrick"s ribs. Brandon"s cock brushed against his but he moved closer still, hi
s legs spreading wide, his body exposed. Brandon didn"t stop until the smooth skin of his balls brushed and pressed against Patrick"s sac.

  Sweet Jesus. The moment Brandon settled, Patrick reached for their cocks.

  It was hard to maneuver with their bodies so close, but goddamn, he was willing to try. Brandon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to lean back into the pillows. With his body tilted away, their bodies pressed together more firmly. It was shockingly intimate. And arousing.

  Best of all, now there was room to maneuver and none of Brandon"s injuries were caught up in the mix. Clever.

  He reached again for Brandon"s shaft and brought it into complete contact with his, from balls to tip, then wrapped his hands around both of them, creating a tunnel with his fingers. Every trip up their cocks sent tremors through his body, every trip down pulled his balls tighter. His head fell back, his chest heaving for breath as he watched his hands and Brandon"s face through heavy-lidded eyes. Moving his hands faster, he brought his thumbs up and over the soft crowns, gathering the oozing pre-cum from both heads for lubrication and adding another zing to the sensations storming him.

  Brandon planted his hands on the bed, his mouth open, and thrust his hips up, running the ridge of his cock head along Patrick"s shaft. Christ, Brandon was gorgeous, his color high, his eyes blazing green as he abandoning himself to the pleasure. That Patrick could give him this, bring him to this place, was incredible. He wondered again what Brandon would look like when he was lost in the throes of orgasm. The thought 77

  Samantha Wayland

  was distracting enough that Patrick lost his rhythm, the dry skin of his palm dragging across the equally dry silk of their erections.

  Damn it. He needed to know. To see. He wanted to go faster. Harder.

  He"d forgotten all about the lube until he heard the cap pop open. He stopped at once, releasing their stiff rods, smiling at the idea that Brandon must have read his mind. His heart hammering in his ears, he watched Brandon pour a puddle into his palm and then smooth that palm up and over his aching cock. Every touch was a bolt of lightning traveling the length of his nervous system. Each stroke tightening his back, his balls, his chest.

  Taking the bottle from Brandon, he drizzled more lube over Brandon"s hand and cock before closing the bottle and tossing it aside. He rubbed the slippery warmth over the swollen plum of Brandon"s tip while Brandon pushed them together again along their entire lengths. Every nerve ending in his cock could feel the sweep of Brandon"s fingers and the press of Brandon"s hard shaft as it rolled and slipped along his. They formed a slick tunnel with their hands, forcing them into firmer contact.

  Patrick"s eyes locked onto Brandon"s, his neck muscles straining as their hands flew over their cocks. Faster and faster, his heart rate accelerating, his breath exploding from his lungs with each plunge, sucking back in with each lift. With a subtle twist, Brandon"s hand rolled their shafts along one another before running his thumb up and over the ultra-sensitive head of Patrick"s cock.

  It was hard for Patrick to comprehend that it could keep getting better. But then, in the midst of mind-numbing desire, he could admit that it wasn"t just about the physical stuff.

  Shoving the thought aside, for now, Patrick quickly learned to follow Brandon"s lead. His hips started to thrust of their own accord, desperate for the release that was building in him. His balls drew up tighter and brushed against Brandon"s when their hands dropped and their bases were pressed close.

  Brandon grasped his arm, hauling him upright for a long, hot kiss. The force and strength of the hand clamped on the back of his neck was electrifying. After years of being considerably larger and stronger than any of his lovers, of having to be so careful to stay gentle, he"d never once wondered if his lover was fighting to stay gentle with him. Who knew just the prospect of the loss of control would be so goddamn arousing?

  The change in angle forced them to slow their hands, but the liberal amount of lube let them continue, the back of Brandon"s fingers trailing up Patrick"s abdomen with each trip along their shafts. Patrick thought his lungs might explode, gasping when their mouths broke apart before diving in for more. He couldn"t get enough. Brandon seemed just as lost, pulling him back for more tongue-thrusting, lip-biting kisses.

  Patrick"s brain finally sent the urgent message that he needed more oxygen, now, and he tore his mouth away, his head rolling on his shoulders as he fell back against the footboard. He missed Brandon"s mouth, but their hands were freed to build up speed once again. Patrick roared toward climax, his ass clenched tight, his belly quivering.

  78

  Destiny Calls

  He fought it back, squeezing tighter, moving faster, torturing himself in his determination to drag Brandon over the edge.

  Brandon"s hoarse shout rang in Patrick"s ears. Brandon"s hips bucked hard as cum flew from his shaft and onto Patrick"s chest, their hands. Groaning, Patrick pulled harder, milking and extending Brandon"s orgasm, watching those familiar green eyes blaze with passion. The traction on his own cock was unbearable, yanking his orgasm up out of his balls. It slammed through him, hot jets boiling up and out and into Brandon"s hand, each pulse, each tug heaving an uncontrollable grunt from deep in his chest.

  When his eyes rolled back to forward, they looked into Brandon"s and his heart stuttered in his chest. He knew he"d never be the same again.

  79

  Samantha Wayland

  Chapter Eight

  Destiny arrived home late from work that night. She"d been forced to stay a couple extra hours, working through supper to plow through the remaining backlog from being out on Monday. Normally, she didn"t mind the long hours. She was proud of her position and had worked hard to gain the stability she"d craved. But in spite of all that, tonight she just wanted to be home with her boys.

  The house was quiet and dark, Farley the only one to greet her and he looked desperate. Taking pity on the poor dog, she walked him around the block, letting him linger on every tree and lamp-post, before returning to the house and trotting upstairs.

  She was surprised to find Patrick and Brandon asleep in bed together. They were both dead to the world, sprawled out across the massive sleigh bed, the covers tangled around their waists. The sight alone made her heart beat a little faster and she let her gaze linger on their bare chests and wide shoulders.

  And they weren"t just pretty look at. They were her dearest friends. Smart, funny and—she thought with a smile—deceptively innocent looking in sleep.

  She guessed at least one of them might be woken up by her moving around the room as she kicked off her shoes and settled Farley on his big pillow under the window, but neither stirred. It wasn"t that late. Brandon was still recovering, so it made sense that he"d need extra sleep, but she couldn"t imagine what Patrick had done that day to have him sleeping so peacefully.

  But he was and she was glad. She hadn"t been sure if he would be comfortable in bed with Brandon and without her. She hoped this meant that Patrick was considering her idea.

  Stripping, she pulled on Patrick"s old t-shirt, which she"d been using as a nightshirt.

  She"d gone home for clothes and supplies but, not by accident, had failed to bring back any pajamas. Unless she counted the long column of copper silk she had hidden away in her bag, waiting for just the right occasion.

  She climbed carefully onto the bed and over Brandon, then stopped, trying to figure out where she would fit. Shrugging, she decided she"d just make a space for herself. As gently as possible, she moved their arms so she could lie down between them. She was both stymied and delighted by Brandon"s calf hooked over one of Patrick"s shins.

  Rather than separate them, she slid her legs into the tangle before pulling up the covers and curling onto her side. The warm cocoon smelled like soap and men and the fresh sheets Patrick must have put on the bed that day. The scent and warmth enveloped her, her muscles relaxing, her bones melting as she drifted off to sleep surrounded by the two people she loved most in the w
orld.

  80

  Destiny Calls

  The next morning, Patrick was up and out of bed before the alarm went off. With a quick kiss and a promise to wake her after he was done in the shower, he disappeared.

  She drifted, half asleep, and enjoyed wallowing in the big bed. Brandon was snuggled up tight behind her, his face buried against the back of her neck, his breathing deep and even. She wriggled against him, trying to steal more of his warmth. Within seconds, she knew he was awake. The erection blooming along the valley of her ass was a dead giveaway.

  “Good morning,” she said, smiling.

  Brandon"s lips curled against the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. “Good morning.” His voice was rough with sleep.

  “Did you have a good day with Patrick yesterday?” Brandon gave a little huff of laughter before biting the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. “I sure did.”

  She couldn"t stop herself from squirming. Based on his body"s response, Brandon didn"t mind.

  “What did you two do?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, the bathroom door swung open and Patrick came back into the bedroom. Between Brandon"s cock pressed hard against the sensitive entrance to her ass and Patrick marching around with nothing on but a ridiculously small towel barely clinging to his hips, she thought she might detonate.

  “You two awake?” Patrick"s smile told her that he knew they were.

  She smiled back. “Oh, yeah.” Then she looked at the clock. “Oh, shit!” Leaping from the bed, she didn"t have time to lament the loss of warmth or the promise of Brandon"s lovely hard-on as she dashed around the bedroom, raiding the closet for her suit, grabbing her towel.

  “What"s wrong?” Patrick asked as she flew past him and into the bathroom.

  “I have a meeting!” she called through the slamming door. “I can"t be late!” She took a record-breaking fast shower and threw on her clothes, pinning her hair up rather than taking the time to dry it. When she came back into the bedroom it was empty. She found the boys down in the kitchen, with coffee and a bagel waiting for her.