Begining After The End Novels & Stories

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, his cock still buried in my ass. Jordan finally pulled out slowly. Cum leaked from my stretched hole down my thighs. He turned me around and kissed me roughly, both of us sweaty and spent. “The bet’s over,” he whispered against my lips. “But this isn’t.” I smiled, still feeling his cum inside me. “Good,” I whispered back. “Because I want a rematch tomorrow.”

Mom slapped her hand away, causing it to turn red instantly. My sister froze. Mom also looked stunned. She looked at her hand, then at the egg, and suddenly ran into the kitchen, covering her face. Her shoulders shook violently, and she kept muttering the same phrase. I leaned in to listen. "It's for Brandon… It's for Brandon…" I sighed. Three months passed. My family had finally managed to put aside a bit of their remorse to resume living normal lives. But things started going wrong. First, it was Dad's job.

And now, I was done believing him. The silence stretched on, and the man on the phone asked again. I steadied myself and answered calmly. "Yes. I accept." We exchanged a few more words, settled on a start date, and I hung up. Then I hailed a cab and went home. I pushed open the front door and went straight upstairs to pack. I was moving out. If I was going to end things, there was no point dragging it out. Packing did not take long. Looking down at the worn-out clothes and pants so faded they had turned white, it hit me just how lean these years had really been.

It's barely working. She stands for about 20 seconds, and then she decides to leave. Phew. He lowers his hand and we exchange a knowing look. He presses the time and place for us to return home. With that familiar zap, we're back in his bathroom—in the present. I hope. I exit first and open the door. Mystery solved. We're back in his messy room. I can finally take a breath. "That was—" "Fuckin awesome!," he exclaims. I beam, "The teams not over yet." I raise my palm to high five him.

"Mindy? What's going on? Didn't we agree that I'd have a month to change for the better? We're already on the last day!" I nodded. "It's the last day, and you did exceptionally well." A smile suddenly appeared on Jake's face, "Does that mean I can—" "No, you can't," I interrupted him, "You and I are done. Please take your stuff and get lost!" Jake was stunned. "What's with you all of a sudden?! Didn't you agree that we could get back together after I've proven my commitment to you? Why the sudden change of mind?" I looked at him and sneered. "You had to meet a client, did you? Why don't you tell me what that client's name is? I might want to talk to her."

*** Ready for more football with a visit from Killian? END OF PART ONE

Yes. That's it. Her last draw of the card is to find that screwdriver. That way, she could pull the strings together of her loosened mind to believe that there wasn't any mystifying horror that occurred to her. She was certain that she was conscious at that time when she found out about the wound. And a wound like that couldn't be healed easily. Perhaps if she had been in a deep stupor for what, a couple of months? There would be a huge possibility that the wound already is healed.

I stared at it for a moment. Then I typed. Paused. Sent. Okay. I set the phone down. Leaned back slightly. Closing my eyes. Because for the first time since everything happened I wasn’t bracing for impact. I wasn’t waiting for something to fall apart. And somewhere in that quiet Something settled. Not certainty. Not peace. But something close enough to it. Because maybe Just maybe This wasn’t the end of us. It was just the beginning of something new.

Three weeks after they'd returned, Blackwood no longer felt like a place recovering from an ending. It started feeling like a place beginning anew. It was a subtle shift. The walls still bore scars from old fights, several buildings needed more work, and arguments about everything from hunting grounds to whether the old Alpha’s house should keep its name popped up almost daily. But people weren't talking about rebuilding what was lost anymore. They were talking about what they wanted next.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> She opened to the first entry. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3" She began.