Starting from Scratch Read online Lane Hayes (Starting From #2)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Starting from Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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Justin, Tegan, and Johnny laughed when I showed it to them. We had a lengthy discussion about our music “firsts” and agreed that the physical act of walking onstage stood out. I didn’t remember anything about the song, but the rush of butterflies and the general feeling of excitement-induced nausea still came over me before every show. Tonight was no different.

Not true. Tonight was worse than usual. My hands were sweaty and my heart raced like I’d just hopped off a treadmill. The weird thing was that I’d been fine until Charlie walked backstage. He sailed into the room with his ubiquitous man bag draped across his body and a sunny smile on his face, looking like he’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. The contrast of his khakis, penny loafers, and fitted floral button-down shirt with our ripped jeans and dark T-shirts was almost laughable. It looked like one of us was in the wrong place, but it didn’t feel that way. In spite of the sudden spike of butterflies, I sensed we all fit. Charlie and Zero, Charlie and me.

I couldn’t look at him without thinking of what I wanted to do him. Or hell, what we’d just done. Two hours ago, I fucked him in his garage. And damn, it was hot. We had time before tonight’s show to grab dinner, so the guys decided to order in and have a mini pre-party at Justin and Gray’s. Normally, I would have been the first to agree. The traffic to the beach and back again was a nightmare, and their house was a great place to chill. But Charlie’s sexy sideways glance when no one else was looking was a better invitation by far.

I made up an excuse about talking to my sister while Charlie told everyone he had a facemask calling his name. We walked outside together, brushing shoulders and fingers as we chatted about our favorite side dishes at Thanksgiving. Actually, he did most of the talking. I couldn’t fucking think straight. Pun intended. I’d been like this for weeks now. All he had to do was smile and I turned to mush. There was something wicked and enticing about knowing how nasty that angelic-looking man could be behind closed doors. The sweet curls, pretty eyes, full lips, and compact body were a front for a perpetually horny and dirty-minded lover. He was voracious. And always ready to go.

Tonight, for example—I followed him home, parked at the curb in front of his townhouse and met him as he got out of his car. He closed the garage door, untied my shorts and curled his fingers around my cock, stroking me insistently as he worked on his belt and kissed me breathless. I went from hard to rock hard in a matter of seconds. I said something about going inside but Charlie gave me a lopsided grin, lowered his khakis and bent over the driver’s seat. He dug inside his bag and handed me a small bottle of lube before reaching back to finger his hole. There really was nothing sexier than a half-dressed Charlie with his pants around his ankles, begging for my dick. I added another finger to the two he had in his ass, then lined my cock at his entrance and pushed my way inside.

A day of furtive glances and stolen touches left us both vibrating with need. We started out slow but quickly escalated until we fucked like a couple of wild animals, grunting and clawing at each other. I kicked my shorts off at one point to widen my stance and held on to his hips with one hand and pulled his hair with the other. Then I licked his neck, bit his jaw, and smacked his ass while he begged for more. But see, nothing was normal with Charlie. He didn’t just say “Fuck me, baby” and call it a day. He was graphic, and he made it clear he liked it when I told him exactly what I wanted from him. I didn’t have a prudish bone in my body, but I might have blushed the first time he egged me into telling him I wanted to pound his hole. Now I didn’t miss a beat. I spanked him, raked my fingers down his sides, and told him how tight, sexy, and beautiful he was. Sometimes I told him not to come until I said he could. He loved that, but he had to know I’d be the first to lose it every time. I did today. I pulled out of him just before my orgasm tore me apart and shot my load on his ass before pushing inside him just as he came.

We’d cleaned up haphazardly with tissues and laughed at the mess we made as we undressed, then headed inside hand-in-hand and buck-ass-naked to shower. Soft, leisurely kisses gave way to insistent ones under the warm spray. Next thing I knew, we were in his bed, rolling and swaying like branches in a gentle breeze. We took our time, though. I didn’t want to hurt him and honestly, I just wanted to hold him. I wanted to breathe him in and savor him like a fine wine or the last piece of chocolate in a box of See’s.


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