The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  When I wake up, I’m in the same place I was while feeding Leddie.

  “Shit.”

  I jump up, looking for her, freaking the fuck out, thinking I dropped her or worse...Trucker.

  When I look toward the door, I see my dad standing at the window.

  “Go back to sleep, Logan. I got this.”

  I push myself up out of the chair. “My responsibility.”

  “And you’re mine.” He turns and looks at me. “Go to bed.”

  I give him a stern look. He gives it back.

  Resigned, I walk over and kiss her on the head. “Night, Leddie. Night, Dad.”

  §

  I wake in the dark to the smell of bacon, which makes no fucking sense. Who the hell cooks bacon in the middle of the night?

  I reach over to grab my phone and see that it’s nearly noon. “What the fuck?”

  I jump out of bed and run out into the kitchen to see it’s full of all the same women, plus Ava and Jade.

  “Morning, Log—” Ava gasps and covers her mouth in shock.

  Josie laughs. “Well, I guess morning Log is more fitting than morning wood, in this case anyway.”

  “Grandma,” London scolds, palming her face.

  I look down. “Well...fuck.” I sigh, then turn so my back is facing them and walk right the fuck back toward my room.

  “My granddaughter is officially more woman than I.” Josie continues to laugh.

  “She’s a virgin,” Keeka announces.

  “Oh, my God,” London groans.

  “Baby girl.” Josie sighs then laughs again. “I got nothing.”

  “Thank God for that,” Emma whispers.

  Josie laughs again. “What the hell was your mother eating while she was growing that one? Miracle-Gro?”

  Ava laughs, and although it’s good to hear, I immediately want to kick her in the ass.

  I can’t listen to anymore. All I can do is picture London packing a fucking bag and heading home.

  Sticks and

  London

  I insist they take all the food next door and wait for Logan to come back out. When he does, his head is held high as he scans the room before looking back at me.

  “We alone?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

  “A few people tried but said you swung a massive stick at them.” I shrug, looking down and trying not to laugh. “Now we know better. It wasn’t a stick at all.”

  Within two seconds, he has me lifted over his shoulder, and I’m laughing hysterically.

  “Uncle!”

  “Not gonna work.” Thankfully, there is humor in his voice as he carries me into his room.

  “Aunt?”

  “Funny girl.”

  “Barbra Streisand?”

  To that, he laughs as he throws me on his bed, then stands and looks at me with wonder.

  I smile so big it almost hurts.

  He smirks. “I pictured you packing a bag and running for the hills.”

  “Pft.” I roll my eyes. “Like that little thing is gonna scare me away.”

  He laughs and flops down beside me. “Yet, you were freaking out the other night.”

  “That was before...” I stop and cover my face.

  “Before?”

  “The Brazilian Keeka tricked me into.”

  When he doesn’t say anything, I look over at him. His jaw is slightly open, but then he closes his mouth and swallows hard. “You got—”

  “Plucked, pulled, tormented?” I laugh. “Yeah.”

  He licks his lips, and I can’t stop looking at them. Then he stands up quickly and pulls me up.

  “You need to get the fuck out of here for a bit.”

  I laugh. “What?”

  “No, seriously.” He runs one hand over his head and uses the other to squeeze...his thing. “Just go.”

  “Are you mad?” I ask, knowing he’s not, but I can’t help myself.

  “No, London.”

  “Well, there’s a breakfast plate in the fridge for you.” I smile as I stand here, looking at him.

  He closes his eyes. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna have you for breakfast.”

  I look at my watch. “Well, I’m well-prepared—”

  Two hands against my ass lift me.

  “Logan!”

  He pulls me harder against his body, and my breath catches when he grinds his erection against me.

  When I look in his eyes, he raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  I wrap my legs around him and link my hands behind his neck. “I think we can figure out how to make it work.”

  Again, his face drops, and I feel victorious...until he speaks.

  “So, you just want me to throw it in there and fuck you right here, right now?”

  I simply nod, because speaking...well, speaking while I’m in leggings and he’s in running pants, the feeling is even more amazing than the times before first semester ended.

  He sits down on his bed, bringing me hard against him, and a moan escapes my mouth.

  “Aw hell, pretty,” he groans.

  I manage to squeak out a, “Please?” before my body takes over.

  “Fuuuuck,” he growls, burying his head in my neck, kissing it as I grind against him like he has me in the past.

  “Um,” I pant. “Oh,” I moan. “I...I...”

  He flips me onto my back and spreads my legs. He brings his mouth down between them over my pants, and I cry out his name. Then I grab his hair, pull him up, and kiss him as I wrap my legs around him and grind against him more.

  The sounds escaping my mouth...the feelings...the burning...the electricity I feel between my legs is...“So good.”

  “Fuck yes.” He grinds against me now as he grips my waist and pushes my shirt up.

  With his hand over my breast, he squeezes, and I moan, “More.”

  He pinches my nipple as he thrusts harder against me and everything goes red.

  He grinds against me as he dips his head and bites my nipple over my clothing, and then everything explodes.

  “Fuck it.” He buries his head in my neck and grinds faster, harder, and then stills. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

  Lying on me, we pant in sync.

  “Jesus,” he sighs out. “The shit you do to me.”

  “I’m pretty confident you did it to me first,” I tell him.

  He pushes himself up, his eyes smiling as he drags his teeth across his bottom lip. “I need to shower...again.”

  “Can I join you?”

  He chuckles as he kisses my nose. “Go. Away.” Then he disappears into the bathroom.

  §

  We all walk into the Dome together. Logan is wearing Leddie, and Keeka and I are on opposite sides of him. It’s an hour into the beginning of the event, and I am shocked at the amount of people in attendance. We were late because Keeka was adamant she wasn’t coming.

  When she said that, Logan sat down beside her and said, “Then we aren’t going either.”

  It turned into a near shouting match, and our families got involved. He told them all to go. Hell, he told me to go. Obviously, I refused, and then Keeka eventually caved.

  The energy is high. Higher than anything I have seen. You would never guess this event, this fundraiser, was created because of a tragedy.

  There are so many kids, and I find myself wondering if they are here for the fun, or if they are family to the victims.

  When Logan squeezes my hand, I look up at him. He leans down and whispers, “Every moment.”

  I nod.

  Every ten minutes, a name is announced as a winner of one of the door prizes. I secretly hope the winners are the victims’ families. They need a break. They need a win.

  “This is incredible,” Logan says as we sit down on the bleachers looking over the crowd.

  “And you started it all,” I tell him.

  “Your dad suggested it,” he replies. Logan is resigned to the fact that he’s no hero, b
ut he is to me.

  He looks over and catches me staring at him. “What?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing.”

  He leans in and whispers, “If you’re this giddy three hours after an orgasm caused by friction, you’re going to be like a damn rag doll after I’ve hit all your spots from the inside.”

  I can’t stop from smiling wider.

  He looks away. “You gotta stop that shit.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Fucking begging for it.”

  I widen my eyes and poke out my bottom lip, giving him the best pouty, begging look I can.

  He laughs, leans in, and gives me the sweetest kiss ever.

  §

  I look down at my phone when I get a text and sigh. “Time to go whore out my boyfriend.”

  Logan looks at me, raises an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes as I stand up.

  “Come on, stud.”

  He stands up, holding the back of Leddie’s carrier, and then holds out his hand to Keeka.

  “Uh-uh. Nope. I’m not going down there.”

  “Like hell you aren’t. Head held high and proud, you hear me?”

  “I’m not going.” She holds out her hand. “Give me my baby.”

  “Come and get her,” he says, stepping down the bleachers.

  She looks at me. “Do something with him!”

  I can’t help laughing. “Like what? Super fly onto his back, hoping to knock him down? Come on; we’ll stand in the back of the crowd.”

  She sighs. “I don’t want to see him, London.”

  “Neither does Logan.” I grab her hand and pull her up.

  Standing in the back of the crowd, Keeka now has Leddie in the bjorn, swaying as she kisses the top of her head.

  I hear Jamie’s voice and look up.

  “Hello, everyone. My name’s Jamie, and I am a student here at SU. We would like to thank y’all for coming today to help raise money for the victims’ families and the survivors of the horrific events that happened on January 27th.”

  Lisa then steps up to the mic. “My name is Lisa, and I’m also a student and survivor of January 27th’s”—she clears her throat, and Christy steps up to her side and squeezes her hand—“happenings.”

  Christy hugs her, and Lisa whispers, “Sorry.”

  My phone goes off.

  A text from Jamie.

  V Squad needs you up here

  I look over at Keeka, who sees my text.

  “Go.”

  “Not without you,” I tell her.

  “Okay.”

  Christy steps up to the microphone. “I’m Christy, a student here, and I was also at Chaos the night a sick man made the decision that took and changed lives...forever.” She looks down as I stand beside the stage. “You see, we went out to celebrate the beginning of our second semester at a college we all dreamed of attending, and somehow, we ended up meeting friends we dreamed of someday having. One moment we’re dancing, and the next, we’re in the bathroom, hearing gunshots. The very next moment, our quad mate was breaking a window and pushing us out. Without thinking, she saved our lives and stayed behind to help countless others to safety, as well.” She motions for me to come up on stage.

  I look beside me and see my entire family.

  Dad kisses my head. “Go, princess.”

  “I didn’t want this,” I whisper to him as I turn and walk up the steps.

  Standing in front of the crowd, in front of the mic, I close my eyes. “Hi, I’m London Fields—”

  I stop when the crowd cheers, and then I shake my head, hoping they will stop.

  “I’m a student here and was at Chaos January 27th when hell rained down on us.” I look out and see Dad, who nods.

  “You’re a hero, London!” someone in the crowd yells.

  “I’m no hero. I...I just...” I look around at my friends who stand beside me and laugh nervously. “I’m a theater student, and I can promise you it’s so much easier to be on stage when I’m not expected to be me.”

  I get a sympathy laugh.

  Dear God, I’m bombing this.

  “As I said, I’m no hero. I just reacted.” I hold my hand over my heart. “I reacted the way I felt I should without second-guessing myself. I reacted because that’s what I have been taught to do in time of need and in time of tragedy.”

  When the crowd claps again, I look at my friends.

  “Looking over this crowd, I know that so many of you would have done the same if you were in the same situation. Looking beside me, I know they would have done the same if given the chance. I know this because two people’s courage are the only reason I’m here.”

  “Number forty-two!” someone yells.

  “He was one of them. Another was the woman who stood beside me, helping me boost people up so they could escape.” I clear my throat and look down. “When he came through the bathroom door, she tried to reason with him.” I cover my heart with my hand and look up. “I don’t know her name, but I wish I could thank her for all of those who survived because of her courage, including myself.”

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and look back. Logan wipes a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen, and I push my face against his hand and smile.

  He leans in and whispers, “You did good, pretty.”

  When the crowd begins to chant his name, he sighs.

  Staring into his eyes that are unshielded, I can see every emotion. I can read them better than I could just a few weeks ago. I feel that we sometimes have complete conversations just looking at each other, not saying a word.

  He steps up to the microphone. “For several days, we’ve mourned those we lost. We’ve questioned strangers, we have grieved, and we have been angry because we will never know why that son of a bitch walked into a place of celebration and good times and opened fire on complete and total strangers to him. Those people were not strangers to us. They were family, they were friends, they were coworkers, neighbors.” He looks back at me. “They were the person we love more than we could have ever imagined.”

  He turns back and looks at the crowd. “What I did wasn’t heroic. It was fucking stupid.”

  The crowd erupts in laughter, while Logan shakes his head and looks down.

  “Like London, it wasn’t a choice. It was a reaction. I’m sorry I didn’t hit the son of a bitch when I drove through the window. But the truth is, I can’t change the past. None of us can. What we can do is live for them and make each moment, every moment count. Today, we celebrate life and the lives lost. Today, we come together with love in our hearts and hope for a better future.”

  The crowd erupts in applause, cheers, and whistles.

  Logan steps back, wraps one arm around me, and the other around Jamie as Isabella Steel takes the microphone.

  “Hello, Syracuse! I am Isabella Steel. I’m here today with Steel Total Destruction.”

  Applause erupts.

  “I kind of forced my way into being part of one of the many fundraising efforts held today. I mean, who wouldn’t want to take over the Ten Most Wanted bachelor auction?” She laughs.

  The crowd whistles and applauds her.

  “Me, that’s fucking who,” Logan reminds me.

  I squeeze his waist. “It’s for a good cause.”

  “Uh-huh,” he grumbles. “I’m last, so let’s get off this damn stage, shall we?”

  As we walk off, Isabella Steel says, “While we wait for the amazing volunteers—many students here at Syracuse University and many more from the community—to take down everything you have enjoyed throughout the day and get ready for the show—”

  More applause.

  “—let’s see who won the silent bids for an amazing date with some of SU’s Ten Most Wanted bachelors?”

  The screen behind Isabella lights up, and an old wanted picture pops up with Mitch on it.

  “Our number ten most wanted is Mitchell Westcott. Mitch is a senior at SU. He’s six-foot tall and plays the defensive line. Come on up, Mitch!” Isabella introduces, and
he walks out, smiling nervously. “Mitchell’s date paid over five thousand dollars for a night on the town. Big boy limousine service will pick him and his date up and take them to Dinosaur Barbeque where they will enjoy a meal for two. After dinner, they will be taken to the mall, Destiny USA and go to Wonder World, where they can play laser tag, conquer the rope course, and then watch a movie at IMAX theaters.” She hands Mitch an envelope, and he opens it.

  “And the winner of my date is...Tonya Ports!”

  I look at Jamie, who looks at me and shrugs. “Sure as hell wasn’t me. Five thousand dollars is a little over my budget.”

  My stomach drops as I watch the woman walk up to the stage and hug him.

  I hold Jamie’s hand and try to prepare myself for how I will feel when it’s Logan up there.

  It feels like forever when Logan is called up.

  “Logan Links is our number one Most Wanted bachelor, and it’s no wonder. Who wouldn’t want a sexy football star who turns into a superhero when needed?” Isabella Steel smiles at him as she hands him a similar envelope. “But wait!” She smiles. “Logan has a best friend who reached out and wanted to be a part of tonight, as well. Trucker Cohen is part of this...package. Trucker, come on up!”

  Trucker walks on stage, smiling as he waves to the crowd that is going wild.

  “Well, this is quite the package.” Isabella Steel walks behind them. “Two men, one offense, one defense, but both seem to have tight ends.”

  She walks around the front of them and stands between them. Then she looks up at Logan and smiles. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “Hi,” she says flirtatiously.

  He raises his hand and gives a sharp wave.

  “You must be the quiet one,” she notes before turning to look at Trucker and does the same flirtatious, “Hi.”

  “Hey, baby.” He winks, making everyone laugh.

  “And this one”—she steps forward, thumbing over her shoulder at him—“is not the quiet one.”

  Everyone laughs again.

  “Must be why they’ve made such a great team for...” She looks at Trucker. “How long did you say you two have been best friends?”

  “Seventeen...No, sixteen years.”

  She laughs. “One bad year, huh?”