Everything After (Bad Beginnings #1)

Prologue

Jamison

We stumbled into my apartment, lips locked and hands flying everywhere.

Still tipsy from the bar, I opened bleary eyes and got an up-close look at his freckles; they were spattered all over his pale face and, to my drunk vision, they formed images and patterns that then immediately broke and re-formed. It was fascinating, and I…

…why was I fixating on stargazing this guy’s freckles rather than on the rather hot kiss that was still going on?

I forcibly pulled myself back to the moment, feeling the guy’s tongue slip past my lips with ease.

Belatedly, I slammed the apartment door behind us - how long had we been giving my neighbors a show?

- and pushed him against the wall. “Bedroom,” I mumbled against his lips, the word garbled by our questing tongues.

I felt him nod against me, and then his hand was creeping up my shirt to tweak my nipple.

I gasped at the sensation that zinged through my sodden brain.

It brought a shot of sudden clarity. How had we gotten here?

My last clear memory was of kissing this guy in the bathroom hallway of the bar I’d been at tonight.

Clearly we’d hopped an Uber or something, since I certainly hadn’t driven to the bar tonight, and I wouldn’t have let him drive me home with the taste of whisky in his mouth.

And wait, why was I trying to think this through mid-kiss? I really needed my mind to stop wandering. Fuck it, I decided, and gave back in to the sensations, cupping the back of the guy’s neck and whimpering into his mouth.

He pulled back a fraction of an inch, much to my displeasure. “Bedroom?” he prompted.

Oh, right. I pressed my lips back to his quickly, then took his hand and turned down the hallway, leading him toward my bedroom.

I hoped I hadn’t left it in too much of a state; I hadn’t exactly planned on bringing home company tonight, but I couldn’t resist this bear of a man once I saw him.

Broad, square shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and hips.

His auburn hair was long and pulled back messily - well, it had been pulled back until I got my hands into it; now, I noticed, it was half-down in spots where I’d tugged at it - and his beard was just long enough to run my fingers through. Which I’d done, of course. Repeatedly.

Yum.

We entered my bedroom at a conjoined galumph that came to an abrupt halt when I got close enough to my bed to realize that I’d left it covered with clothes during my pre-going-out deliberations earlier tonight.

Oops. At least I hadn’t left a dildo out.

“Just let me…” I began, dropping his hand and moving to the bed, where I scooped up an armful of tops and dumped them on the chair across the room.

The guy laughed. “Looks like my place. Dun…don’t worry ‘bout it.” His words were slurred just a smidge, and I grinned. We were a mess…but a hot one.

I finished clearing the bed and returned to my date, giving his hand another tug. “Where were we?” I purred as he obediently came to me.

“Hmm, right here.” He cupped my ass proprietarily and pressed his lips to my neck, sucking gently as he drew my hips into the cradle of his own.

I moaned at the sensation as he mouthed as the thin skin of my collarbone, first lips and then the gentle stinging of his teeth. I wondered idly if I’d have marks tomorrow. I hoped I had concealer left in my tube.

I speared my fingers through his hair again, finally completely dislodging the beanie that had been holding it back.

It dropped to the ground with a soft plop.

I’d have said oops, but before I could get the word out I’d become distracted by the loose curls I’d discovered had been covered up by the hat.

Mm, yes, curls. Nice. I sifted my fingers through his locks, then drew my hand down to the back of his neck and pressed his face harder into my neck.

Taking my cue, he gave me a nip, then slid his hand around from my ass to my front, brushing past my erection just slowly enough to elicit a gasp but too quickly for me to get any real sensation. His hand settled on my hip and tightened.

Helplessly, I thrust against him, feeling his hardness against my own. I moaned. “Now.”

He lifted his head from my neck and gave me a crooked, drunken grin. “Eager?”

Scoffing, I released his neck and dropped my hands to his waist. “You have no idea.” When he didn’t protest, I began lifting his shirt.

Hmm, nice. No six-pack, not that I really ever expected my partners to have one, but he was trim with just a hint of softness around his belly.

A trail of hair rose from the waist of his pants, broadening as the shirt reached the level of his pecs into a solid patch a shade redder than that on his head.

He lifted his arms obediently, allowing me to flick his shirt over his head, and then dropped them over my shoulders, pulling me into something resembling a hug, except dirtier.

Our hips ground together, and while I was distracted with that, he had my shirt whipped over my head before I could think to help.

Unfortunately for us, I’d had six or so drinks at the bar, and my body was loose.

I went with my shirt as he pulled it to the side over my head, my weight pulled him with me, and we stumbled together, thankfully landing on the bed.

“Oops?” I squeaked as my feet drummed against the floor and my ass squished into the bed.

He laughed and shoved my balled-up shirt against my chest. “If you wanted me in bed you could’ve just asked.”

I grinned. “Ok. I want you in bed.”

“Yessir.” He dropped the shirt, which I pushed to the side, and rolled on top of me, thrusting against me again.

“Ooh, I like that,” I teased. “Call me ‘sir’ again.”

He snorted. “Get your pants off, sir.” Not waiting for me to obey, he levered himself up on one arm and dropped his free hand to my fly, fingering the button.

I could take a hint. I popped my button and drew the zipper down, then humped against him pointedly to get him to lift his hips enough for me to get my pants down.

He opted to pop onto his feet, taking the opportunity to shuck his own pants, leaving behind a pair of black boxer briefs that cupped a delicious package.

I hoped I wasn’t drooling, but let’s face it, I probably was.

My bright blue briefs were cute too, I knew, but there was just something about a well-fitted pair of boxer briefs on a masc guy that did it for me.

He paused there, raising an eyebrow at me, and it took me a moment to realize that he was waiting for me to do more than think about removing my pants. Suppressing a self-conscious giggle, I shoved my pants down and wiggled out of them, kicking them to the side.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he said with a grin, eyeing the bulge in my blue briefs, and stepped between my legs. “What do you want?” he asked as one of his hands ghosted over my hard-on. He gave the tip a light flick, and I gasped.

“Oh my god, fuck me,” I said on a drawn-out moan, reaching out to cup his substantial dick and using my grip to draw him back over me. “Hard.”

“Mmm.” He smiled slightly. “I can do that. Let’s get these off you.

” His fingers slipped into my briefs and gave the waistband a tug; I obediently lifted my hips and soon my underwear had gone the way of my pants, flung to the side to be found - or not - some unknown time in the future.

“Very nice.” He ran one finger up my erection, circling it around the tip to collect the drop of precum that was welling up there.

Lifting his finger to his mouth, he sucked the precum off it and groaned. “Very nice.”

“Fuuuuuck.” I half-sat and, with no finesse whatsoever, yanked his underwear down.

Oh yes. That hard, uncut dick was mine. Before he could fight me, I gripped his hips and toppled him onto the bed beside me, then scooted myself so I was face-to-crotch with him.

“Hi,” I whispered, lifting my eyes to his wide ones.

His lips moved but nothing came out, and I decided to take that as a good sign.

I gave his dick a gentle kiss, keeping my eyes on his until his fluttered closed, and then flicked my tongue out against his frenulum.

“Ngh” was his reaction to that. Worked for me.

I slipped my lips around his head and sucked.

A salty burst of precum greeted me, to my pleasure.

Not hard to tell he was enjoying my ministrations.

I kept up my suction, working my tongue into things when I could, dipping it into his slit periodically, which he always greeted with a moan.

Which was why I was surprised when I felt the heel of his hand push gently against my forehead.

I lifted my head to meet his eyes, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

He smiled. “Absolutely nothing except that I want to play too. Where’s your lube?”

I gestured to my nightstand, which was closer to him than me with me in my current position. He nodded and reached over, retrieving the bottle of lube and a handful of condoms. He dropped the condoms on the bed next to the pillow, then gestured at me. “Come up here.”

I blinked, my slow brain not computing. “Where?”

Apparently deciding words were overrated, he reached down, grabbed my hips, and hauled me over him so my ass was in his face while my face was still conveniently at dick level.

“As you were,” he teased, pressing my face back against himself with one hand while he flicked open the lube bottle with the other. Ohhh, I got it now.

I went back to work on his dick, flicking and sucking, as I felt a lubed finger probe gently at my pucker.

I forced myself to relax with the ease of years of practice, and his fingertip slipped inside me with little effort.

I moaned around my mouthful and he gasped at the vibrations, then pressed his lips to my left asscheek and slid his finger deeper.