Only Ever You (A Little Like Destiny Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  book three

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  ONLY EVER YOU

  A Little Like Destiny Book Two

  ©2017 LISA SUZANNE

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the US Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law and except for excerpts used in reviews. If you would like to use any words from this book other than for review purposes, prior written permission must be obtained from the publisher.

  Published in the United States of America by Books by LS, LLC.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters and events in this work are figments of the author’s imagination.

  Content Editing by It’s Your Story Content Editing

  Proofreading by Proofreading by Katie

  Cover Design by CT Cover Creations

  Cover Photograph by Eric Battershell

  Torn between two brothers, Reese Brady must choose whether to live out her fantasies or opt for stability. She bears the load of her guilt to the point of exhaustion, excusing unsavory behavior as a form of self-punishment. Despite the temptation of one man, she commits to the other.

  When a family crisis strikes, Reese is forced into the arms of the wrong man. How will she comfort him when she longs to be with his brother?

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  books by Lisa Suzanne

  A LITTLE LIKE DESTINY

  CONFLICTED

  CLICKBAIT

  STALEMATE

  OUTWAIT

  NOT JUST ANOTHER ROMANCE NOVEL

  VINTAGE VOLUME ONE

  VINTAGE VOLUME TWO

  HOW HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 1)

  WHAT HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 2)

  SINCE HE REALLY FEELS (HE FEELS, BOOK 3)

  THE HE FEELS TRILOGY BOX SET

  SEPARATION ANXIETY

  SIDE EFFECTS

  SECOND OPINION

  dedication

  To my boys, the rock stars of my world.

  table of contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  book three

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  one

  “Is this okay?” he whispers. “I need this to be okay.”

  I don’t answer with words.

  Instead, I cover his mouth with mine and reach for the hem of his shirt.

  Is this okay?

  No. It’s not okay. It’s the absolute wrong thing to do, and even through the sleepy haze and the lust and desire battling in my chest, I know that.

  As his peppermint breath mingles with mine, I wonder if it’s so wrong why it feels so right, like every single dream I’ve had for the past two months and ten years is finally, finally becoming a reality.

  I pull his shirt over his head and toss it. I don’t know if it ends up on Brian’s bed, somewhere beside us or on the floor. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s gone and there’s no barrier between our chests, between the smooth skin of his back and my fingertips.

  His chest slides against my breasts, stimulating me with all the pent-up desire I’ve silently held inside for him as he moves over me.

  It’s true that I’ve already gotten off twice tonight under the skilled maneuvers of another man. I’ve never been with more than one man in a single night—probably not even in a single month. This isn’t me, this animal that’s gyrating against a rock star, but an ache has stabbed at me since the single night I shared with Mark Ashton. No matter how many times his brother has pleasured me in the days since I was last with Mark, the ache is always there, penetrating my core and ungluing my mind.

  “One night wasn’t enough,” he whispers as his hips slam against mine. His jeans are rough against my naked skin, and I let out a grunt as I wrap my legs around him. He feathers kisses against my neck, trailing toward my ear. “You can’t be here like a goddamn goddess while he gets to be with you and I don’t. It’s fucking torture.” His voice is low against my ear as his agony reverberates through my chest. His hips slam against me again. His erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans has grown harder and thicker in the split second between each buck of his hips, and a cry rips out from my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” I grunt, my voice shaky and choppy from his rhythmic thrusts. He’s not even naked yet and I think I’m about to come.

  His mouth moves against mine and his tongue glides gently with mine in some rhythmic language only the two of us know. He kisses me like he’s worshipping me, and I believe this is real. This isn’t a dream or a game or some competition. This is how it’s supposed to be, and it’s that thought that allows me to slide my hands down the back of his jeans and grab a fistful of muscled ass. I pull him tighter against me as I push my pelvis toward him, and he groans into my mouth. I skate my nails up his back.

  He pulls back from the kiss and gazes tenderly down at me in the dark, and every emotional moment from that one night we shared is pushed back to the surface. Every feeling of passion and desire and possibly love flows between us like a beam of light pulling us together. His face is shadowed, and I can’t see the color of his eyes, but I can still see the need there. I palm his cheek, and he closes his eyes as if he’s in pain.

  I move my hand and he opens his eyes again.

  “I need this…need you,” he pants.

  I nod, my eyes hot on his, and the one flick of my head mixed with the desire in my eyes is all he needs. His jeans are off in an instant. He grabs a condom from the nightstand beside us, and while the thought that we’re using Brian’s condoms to do this should throw a bucket of cold water over what we’re doing, it doesn’t. I push him from my mind and forge ahead willingly because this moment has no alternate ending.

  Mark plunges his finger into me, moving it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. My hips buck of their own accord to meet the excruciating thrusts. His lips find mine again, just for a few glorious seconds, then he trails down to pull a nipple between his teeth.
I cry out from the pleasure twisting through my body. He owns me.

  He knows exactly what to do, how to touch, when to kiss, where to suck. I fall apart beneath him in the dark shadows of another man’s bedroom. I cry out as my body contracts around his fingers, pulsing and throbbing until I think I might die from the pleasure, and just as the tightening starts to subside a little, he pushes his steel erection inside me.

  “Jesus, fuck, that’s so good,” he mutters.

  He pushes in as far as he can go and holds himself steady inside me as my body continues its slow throbs. We both moan at the pure carnality of it all. The only thing holding us separate is the condom, and I wish it wasn’t there. I wish it could be just us, silk against velvet, skin to skin.

  I don’t think of his past, don’t think why that might be a bad idea, not when he’s inside me, but I want it wholeheartedly. I want him—every bit of him, every flaw and every virtue. I want to go to dinner with him, to hold his hand, to snuggle in his bed.

  I want a life with him, and as he stills inside me, for that one moment…I believe it can happen.

  He pulls his hips back before propelling forward, and I close my eyes to relish every sensation. I don’t want this to end—ever—but nothing lasts forever, and this moment will pass me by just like every other moment I never wanted to end. I focus on every feeling I can, every movement. I memorize it all, because what if this is the last time? What if this never happens again? There are so many what-ifs, so many unknowns, and I’m terrified for it to end, to face any of it in the morning when all I want is for this never to stop.

  He holds himself up by one tattooed arm as he thrusts in and out of me, caressing my face, my arms, my chest. He kisses me as he moans, his hips gentle against mine, occasionally holding still inside me before slipping back and driving forward again.

  He whispers tenderly to me between groans and moans as he nips my neck. “You’re all I’ve wanted since that night.” “Better than I remember.” “Perfect.” “A little like destiny.”

  His words are a total contradiction to what I’d have expected out of him. He’s tender and gentle, sweet and sincere. It’s reminiscent of our one night, yet it’s different and intense. He pushes me higher as I pant beneath him, not sure what to say, not sure how to respond to his words, not sure if I should even be doing this as I’m conflictingly confident this is exactly how it should be.

  It doesn’t matter that I want this to last forever; my body betrays me. Despite the three times I’ve already come tonight at the hands of two different men, I’m sent spinning into a fourth orgasm, and it’s by far the strongest and most brutal of them all. I stiffen everywhere, and Mark grunts above me. “Holy fuck,” he murmurs, and then he lets out a low growl as his thrusts pick up speed and I lose all control beneath him. The spring breaks and I claw my fingers into his back as waves of pleasure repetitively pulse through me. I can’t stop crying out as the throbbing goes on and on and on, my body constricting around him and milking him forcefully inside me. He cries out, too, as he falls apart above me.

  I open my eyes to watch his face as he comes, a beautiful sight to behold. Pleasure twists his expression. I almost need a shield against the pure devotion I see—something I never thought I’d see from his eyes to mine. He’s this untouchable rock star, this god among men, and he’s looking at me with all his pent-up emotion.

  It’s too much for me to take, so I close my eyes and lean my head back. His lips land unexpectedly on mine, and I kiss him with everything I’ve bottled inside. All the feelings, all the desire I’ve had for this man for so long, all the fantasies I’ve had about him for ten years plus the darker and deeper turns my heart has taken in the last couple of months. I want this, want him, and I want it forever.

  As the glow starts to wane, though, I’m hit with what I know.

  He doesn’t do forever. No matter how much I see there in his eyes, I’m seeing what I want to see in the quiet moments after a ruthless orgasm. No matter how much I want it to be true, I’m afraid it just…isn’t.

  And even if it is, he’s Mark Ashton. He’s a rock star adored by women everywhere. I would never fit into his lifestyle no matter how much I want it.

  He kisses me forever. I lose track of time as his tongue moves in my mouth, tasting me tasting him. Somehow even after all that, I still get a hint of peppermint, and I want to live inside this feeling for the rest of my life.

  Eventually he stops and rests on top of me as he slips out. I miss him instantly, miss that connection we shared.

  He kisses my shoulder. “I should go,” he murmurs.

  I’m snapped back to reality.

  He’s leaving.

  He’s leaving because he has to leave. This is his bed in his house, but it’s not.

  It’s his brother’s bed. His brother’s room. His brother’s girlfriend.

  I don’t respond because I’m afraid he’ll hear all the unshed tears in my voice. I wait for him to put his jeans back on, to find his shirt and pull it over his head, for him to kiss me gently one last time as no further words are exchanged between us.

  He slips out of the room, and that’s when I’m done waiting. The unshed tears drop from my lashes.

  It’s over, again.

  I don’t even have the consolation that it’ll happen again, because I can’t let it. I can’t do it to Brian.

  I won’t.

  It was a one-time indiscretion that won’t happen again.

  two

  “Good morning.” Brian’s eyes seem an even brighter shade of green in the morning light as he grins at me, but it could just be my imagination because of the darkness behind my own. “You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”

  He leans over to give me a kiss, but I pretend not to notice. I turn away, twisting my back to stretch. I’m met with pain—and not just the kind of pain you get when you’ve overworked your body. My stomach burns with guilt, and it shows on my face as I wince.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Sore,” I grumble as I glance at the clock on his nightstand. It’s a little after ten and time doesn’t matter. I need to tell him what I did with his brother before the guilt swallows me whole.

  “From last night?”

  I don’t answer. I close my eyes as if I’m still sleepy—which I am, but it’s not like I’m going back to sleep now.

  He chuckles. “I didn’t even give you my best stuff.”

  “You gave me good stuff. Rougher than usual.”

  “Well, I missed you. Had to make up for lost time. You slept late.”

  Because my sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by your brother.

  Guilt scorches me everywhere, prickling my skin and infecting my blood.

  “What time did you get back?” I murmur, schooling my voice to sound sleepy.

  I have no idea what time Mark came and went from this bed. All I know is he was here, and I can’t help the shudder of fear that blazes through me. Do the sheets smell like peppermint and sandalwood?

  I need to tell him. We can’t have secrets between us.

  I’m just not sure how to form the words. I slept with your brother.

  Twice.

  He deserves the truth, but I can’t stop thinking about the things he said about his brother.

  We’ve always had this extremely competitive relationship.

  He has this way of wanting what’s mine, and he always gets what he wants.

  “A little after six.”

  “Did you fix the problem?”

  He sighs, and a dark shadow of anger flashes over his face briefly before he answers. “I bandaged it. I’ll probably have to fly to Germany to fix it.”

  I ignore the confusion in my heart at his words. Part of me needs him here, needs him in my arms, needs confirmation that he’s the man I want to be with. The other part of me—the part I immediately push away with a big dose of remorse—is glad he’ll be out of the country for a few days.

  “I don’t want
to go,” he says, picking up my hand in his. “I’ll miss you too much.” A pause. “You should come with me!” The idea clearly just hit him as his voice raises with excitement.

  My eyes pop open. He’s inviting me to go to another country with him.

  There’s no justification for what I did last night. And yet…

  And yet.

  Is it possible to be in love with two people? The love I have for Brian is pure, sweet, solid. He certainly comes with his flaws, but he’s a good man who treats me well.

  A man who certainly deserves better than me—deserves better than what I’ve done.

  I open my mouth to admit the truth, but other words tumble out. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.” I don’t know why I can’t say it, why I can’t be honest, why my mouth won’t form the words it needs to say, but in that moment, I make a vow. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to him.

  “Why not? It’s not like you have to go to work.”

  “True,” I say. I scramble for any excuse. “But I do need to start planning for the upcoming school year. And I don’t even know if my passport is valid.”

  “We’ll get a rush on a renewal.”

  “I think even a rush still takes a couple weeks.”

  “I might be gone a couple weeks. You could meet me there. Reese, I don’t want to go without you.”

  “Let’s talk about it when you know for sure you have to go.”

  He nods, satisfied for now with that answer.

  I should go to Germany. It would be for the best. The temptation wouldn’t be right under my nose, and I’d be free to grow closer to Brian—my boyfriend.

  I think about Mark’s words the morning he first admitted his feelings for me. It doesn’t matter that I was Mark’s first. I’m with Brian now, and in the unavoidable light of morning, I believe what Brian has told me. Mark only wants me because of the competition between brothers, not because there’s something between us. I must’ve imagined the connection, the closeness, the depth. The emotions both pure and vast.

  “When did you get dressed?” Brian asks as I flip the covers off to get out of bed.

  “Just after you left,” I lie. “It was cold without you.”