9.11 - 49. Chapter 49

September 23, 2001

“Dude, I still can’t believe it,” Matt said. “You have a half-brother.”

“Sounds like it. A mysterious one,” I said. “I don’t suppose you got any info on him?” I asked Sean.

“I’m very thorough,” he said, with his killer smile.

“We’ll see about that,” I replied, smiling back.

“Your father had a long affair with his mother,” Sean said. “About eight years ago, your mother found out about it and forced him to send her away.”

“How could he force her to go away?” Matt asked naively.

I gave Matt a look to remind him of what my parents were capable of. “So they made her leave DC?” I asked.

“It was worse than that,” he said. “They made her leave the country.”

“What?” I asked, stunned.

“Veronica Fletcher is from Cuba, originally. I’m not sure exactly what her name is, but it was Anglicized when she came here. She was here on a diplomatic visa of some kind. Those credentials were revoked. She was deported,” Sean said, shaking his head.

“My father was having an affair with a Cuban woman?” I asked, completely shocked.

“Yes,” Sean said.

“So this seven-year-old kid had his mom shipped home to Cuba, but he didn’t go with her?” I asked.

“That was her deal with your father. She went back to Cuba, but her son stayed here to get an education. She demanded that he get American citizenship, so your father had to claim him,” Sean explained.

“How the fuck did he keep that out of the press?” Matt asked. That was a very good question. Exposing that would have been a journalistic coup: A senator has an affair with a Cuban national, and fathers a child with her.

“They were all very careful, and everyone cooperated,” Sean said. If Matt or Sean had any questions about the wide reaching powers my parents wielded, that alone should have been a good demonstration. That a deportation, a declaration of citizenship, and various other procedures had remained under the radar of the press was pretty incredible.

“Even Ethan cooperated?” I asked. He could have been the big asshole in this, shooting off his mouth to keep his mother in the US.

“Well, he was seven at the time, but now he knows and he’s kept quiet, so I guess he has,” Sean said.

“Where’s he living?” I asked.

“About as far from DC as you can get in the continental US,” Sean said with a smirk. “He’s going to the Webb School in Claremont.”

“Ohio isn’t that far from DC,” Matt said.

“No, not that Claremont. Claremont, California. It’s in the Inland Empire, near LA,” Sean said.

“You think that’s why they chose it?” I asked.

“He’s half Cuban,” Sean mused.

“I wonder if he looks like Darius,” Matt said, referring to his cross-cultural heritage. I was wondering that too, wondering if he had distinctive ethnic features and coloring.

“Maybe,” Sean said. “That would have made for one amazing press conference.”

“No shit,” I agreed. It would have ruined my father.

“Dude, I feel sorry for him,” Matt said. “Shit, having your mom hauled off when you’re seven, and then being stuck in a boarding school after that. Might as well call it a fancy orphanage.”

And with that statement, Matt had brought the human side of the equation into play. I hadn’t thought about Ethan as a person; I’d thought about Ethan as a ‘problem’ they’d solved. “Maybe we can change that,” I said.

“What if he’s happy there, at Webb?” Sean asked.

“I’m not saying he has to get up and move, but he definitely needs to know that he has a family to spend time with, and to watch out for him.” They looked at me, not getting it. “Where does he go for Christmas and Thanksgiving?”

“Cuba?” Matt asked.

“I don’t think he’s been there,” Sean said.

“Why?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know, and neither did Arthur, but the logical reason is that it’s illegal. As an American citizen, he’s not allowed to travel there,” Sean said.

“So he really has been an orphan,” I said sadly.

“Your father went to visit him at least once a year. Usually on his birthday, which is in April.” I scanned my memory of past Aprils, trying to remember my father being gone, but he had been so busy with things, that largely went unnoticed. “Arthur said he tried to get out to visit more often, but he isn’t sure if your father actually did that.”

“This must really be freaking him out,” Matt said. “His father dies; he can’t even go to the funeral. Shit, he’s probably feeling totally alone.”

“Did he know about me?” I asked Sean.

“He’s a smart kid, from what I understand. He has to know about you, Wade. You’ve been in the news,” Sean said. “He didn’t know about this trust, so he probably doesn’t know you’re the trustee.” I thought about this, about this whole situation, trying to figure out what had been going on behind the scenes.

“My mother had to know about this,” I said. “She acted like she didn’t, but she had to know.”

“I’m not sure…” Sean said.

“I’m not seeing your father keeping something like this from her,” Matt said, agreeing with me. “In fact, it sounds like she’s the one who cleaned up the mess.”

He wasn’t a mess, but I got what Matt said. “That whole thing has my mother’s fingerprints all over it.” It was a heartless, political solution to a problem, with no thought to the human costs.

“I guess it does,” Sean said, now thinking along the same lines we were.

“I can’t believe my father never told me about Ethan,” I said. “Shit, he’s not that much younger than Beau.”

“He’s only a little older than Will,” Matt said. “Maybe he knew that if he told you, you’d reach out to the kid, and try to include him in the family.”

Sean nodded. “That’s your way, Wade. And if you’d done that, then Ethan’s appearance at family functions may have caused tongues to wag.”

“Not all of your relatives are friendly,” Matt added, making me chuckle. “Can you imagine what Mary Ellen would have done if she’d known about this?” That made sense. She’d have had a major chit to hold over my parents’ head. It would have made her a lot harder to control.

“I think that your father must have known how you’d react, and that’s why he gave you responsibility for Ethan’s money. The money was just a way to link the two of you together,” Sean said. I looked at him, trying not to let him see my annoyance at that. My father was manipulating me from the grave. God, these people were Machiavellian.

“Guess I’ll have to go see him,” I said. “We’re going down to LA on Thursday night for Robbie’s memorial. It's on Friday. Maybe I’ll visit him this weekend.”

“I’ll get you his contact info,” Sean said. “You want me to set something up?”

“No, I’ll do it. Will you make sure that I can talk to the people at Webb about him?” He nodded. “I want to find out how he’s handling this, my father’s death.”

“I got it covered,” he said, jotting down notes.

“Mary Ellen decided that she doesn’t hate me,” I said. They both looked at me, amazed. “We agreed on a truce, so I don’t have to worry about her throwing knives at my back.”

“Do you trust her?” Sean asked.

“Within limits,” I said. “I think that unless there was a deal that was huge for her, she’ll leave me alone.”

“Guess you’ll just have to hope that nothing huge comes along,” Matt said. “She fucked Konrad last night.”

I laughed at that. “That makes sense. They’re both sluts.”

“If you want, I’ve got some of the financial details from Arthur with me,” Sean said, being all task oriented. “You want to go over those?”

“Yes,” I said, unwilling to procrastinate. Matt looked disappointed, because he was hoping for a hot three-way. We spent the rest of the flight going over all the issues with Goodwell, and Ethan’s trust. My father’s death had saved me tens of millions of dollars, since now I didn’t have to buy Goodwell like I planned. We’d gotten so into it, we were kind of surprised when the plane touched down in Palo Alto.

“This is not how I planned to spend this flight,” Matt grumbled playfully.

“We’ll make up for it later,” I promised. I was too keyed up about all of these things, about my new half-brother, and still pretty wiped out from last night and the day’s activities, to have an active libido. I went back to Escorial with Matt and sated his desires with a quick blow job, then went to bed early. I lay there, but I didn’t sleep. Instead, my mind flew from thinking about my father and how much I missed him, to my new half-brother, and to my concern over who had told Mary Ellen about my father molesting me.

September 24, 2001

“Car’s here,” I said to Grand as I read the text message from John.

“You’re riding to school with John today?” he asked.

“And Marie,” I said.

“I did not know she was ready to return,” he said.

“She decided she was ready last night,” I told him. She’d called me and asked for my opinion, which was really nice. I’d told her that putting it off would only make things worse, and that it would be nice to have her around. “You want to ride along?”

“My own quarter starts today, unfortunately,” he said.

I gave him a quick hug then almost bumped into Wade when I was leaving the kitchen. “Hey. Didn’t see you last night,” I said.

“We got in late, and I was tired,” he said.

“Gotta run,” I said. “See you later.”

“If you go riding after school,” he said, “come find me.”

I smiled big at that, because spending time with Wade was the shit. “It’s a date.” I hurried out and hopped in the limo to find John and Marie there. “You look great,” I said to Marie.

“Thanks,” she said. “Finally get a chance to wear these shoes with something that matches.”

“More or less,” John said, giving her shit.

“Where’s your mother?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you two have a chaperone?”

“I told her I wanted to go with just the two of you,” Marie said. “And John said he’d watch out for me.”

“That is so sweet of you,” I said, giving him shit.

“Fuck you,” he responded.

“Dude, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I joked, making them laugh.

“Do you think things will be weird?” Marie asked me. She was uncharacteristically nervous.

“I think that what you should do is walk into school like it’s your first day. Hang out with all your friends, just like you would have last semester. And if anyone gives you shit, just tell them you don’t want to talk about it,” I said. That had worked so well for me at Harvard-Westlake and here at Menlo.

“What about Noah?” she asked.

“Have you talked to him?” John asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I told him that I’m very confused about things.”

“Just tell him you want to be friends for a while, until you figure things out,” John said.

“Dude, for him, that’s like breaking up,” I said, then turned my attention to Marie. “He’s totally into you.”

“I know,” she said sadly.

“Why is that a bad thing? You like him?” John asked.

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him,” she said.

“Maybe he will grow on you,” I suggested.

“Like mold,” John said.

“What if you break up with him then find out you really did like him?” I asked. “He’s not the kind of dude who will forgive you for that and take you back.”

“I guess I can be honest with him,” she said. I wondered if that meant that she’d tell Noah she had been obsessed with me, and that’s why she’d acted the way she had. I wondered if she’d told anyone about that.

“Like that works when you’re going out with someone,” John joked, cracking us up.

“You know, I do think it’s important that you make things right with the friends you’ve pissed off,” I said. Marie looked at me funny. “If you apologize, things will be better for both of you. Or didn’t you learn that yet?”

“I learned that,” she said, giving me a dirty look. “I liked being perfect better.”

“It is pretty cool, being perfect,” I joked.

“So how are you doing?” John asked me. They both looked at me in a way that said they were worried about me. I tried not to let it piss me off.

“I’m OK. Every once in a while my emotions just fly out of control.”

“Sounds like you’re back to normal,” Marie teased. “Seriously, I’m really impressed with how strong you’ve been.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Not like I have much choice.”

“You have choices,” she corrected. “You could have melted down like I did.”

“Don’t think I haven’t,” I said seriously. We got to school and Marie stuck to us like glue, but we were expecting that. We got some strange looks at this total change in dynamics, where Marie and I were friends again.

We’d just gotten to her locker when we ran into Jackie. “Hey,” Marie said to her enthusiastically. She detached herself from John and me, and went off with Jackie.

“Dude, she’s been freaking out all weekend,” John said.

“She seems to be doing OK now that she’s here,” I said.

“That was good advice,” he said. “I told her the same thing, but she doesn’t listen to me.”

“That’s because you’re a punk,” I said. He shoved me with his shoulder, pushing me into some lockers, and we both laughed.

School was pretty uneventful. I found that I was still so numb after all that happened that it was hard to get excited about anything. I’d adapted to the traumas enough that I don’t think other people noticed, but if they’d been able to look any deeper, they’d see. They’d see the pain, the sadness, the depression and the anger. They’d see how the numbness kept those intense feelings buried.

I had hoped to talk to Cam today, to see if he wanted to hang out this week, but he spent the whole time macking on some chick. I felt the jealousy try to emerge and consume me, but it fell victim to the numbness. Then I tried to make myself sad at being all alone, with no one to love, but that was squashed by the numbness too. I got home in a pretty somber mood, and went back to my room to crash, and to pretend that I wasn’t crying when I lay there in bed trying to nap.

There was a knock on my door, and it turned out to be Wade, wanting to go riding. I smiled and forced myself into motion, and wandered out to the stables with him. I was almost tempted to take one of the mares, I was that apathetic, but that would have made me look like a pussy, so I took Charger. It turned out to be a good choice. He hadn’t been ridden for a while, and he was ready to run. Wade and I took off, with him on Gunpowder, and tore across the fields around Escorial, and worked our way down through the Stanford lands. We finally pulled the horses back to a trot, then a walk, so we could have a conversation.

“I want to ask you a favor,” he said.

“Sure,” I responded.

“You don’t even know what it is,” he said.

“I’d do just about anything for you,” I said honestly. I worried that I sounded kind of sappy, but he smiled at me.

“Thanks. It’s a mutual thing.” Like I didn’t know he’d be in my corner. “We met with the attorneys after the funeral.”

“That must have been interesting,” I said, more to move the conversation along than anything.

“He left Goodwell to Riley, but I’m in charge of it for as long as I live,” he told me.

“That’s good, since that’s important to you.”

“He left a chunk of cash to Beau and Mary Ellen, even though it’s not much compared to what’s in my grandparents’ trusts for us. But he left the money directly to them, and not in trust.”

“That must have pissed your mother off,” I said, chuckling.

“No shit,” he said. “And he left four million to my half-brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a half-brother,” I said, more of a question.

“Neither did I,” he said.

“Holy shit!” I said, and stared at him. “Who is this dude?”

“His name is Ethan Fletcher, and he goes to the Webb School,” he told me.

“In Claremont?” I asked. I’d heard of it. It was in the Inland Empire. He nodded. “How old is he?”

“I think he’s fifteen,” Wade said.

“Is he hot?” I joked.

“Duh,” Wade said. “He’s my half-brother.” I laughed at his fake arrogance.

“So are you going to meet him?” I asked.

“I’m in charge of his cash, and Sean thinks my father set it up that way so I’d be linked to him,” Wade said.

“You would have reached out to him anyway,” I said after thinking about it. That was the way Wade was.

He nodded. “I’m going to go see him next weekend, after the memorial service for Robbie.” The thought of that service shook me to the core, so I said nothing. “So here’s the favor I need.”

“What? You want me to go with you?”

He shrugged. “If you want to. But that’s not it.”

“What?”

“He’s basically been an orphan since he was seven, with only the twice a year visits from my father to tide him over,” he said.

“Where’s his mother?”

“In Cuba,” Wade said.

“So this dude is half-Cuban?” Wade nodded. “Dude, I’ll bet he’s freaking gorgeous.”

“Don’t rape the poor kid,” he joked. “Look, this is going to be weird for him, especially when I bring him here for holidays and shit. I’m wondering if you can look out for him. Make him feel at home.”

“Sure,” I said. “That’s not a problem, unless he’s an asshole.”

“He’s not an asshole,” Wade asserted defensively.

“What if he inherited Mary Ellen’s personality?” I asked.

“Good point,” he said, chuckling, then got introspective.

“What?” I asked.

He sighed. “I never thought about that, about what he would be like. I never thought he would be an asshole.”

“He’s probably not,” I said hastily.

“No, what you’re telling me is that I should stay on my guard, and not let myself feel so sorry for him that I let him manipulate me,” Wade said.

“I’m not sure that’s what I was saying, but it’s good advice, whoever gave it to you,” I said, cracking him up.

“How are you doing? Did you help Carullo out?” he asked.

“We had an awesome time. I think he just wanted to get out of there, so I asked him to show me Bayonne. He took me all over the town, and then we ate an early dinner and went back to the hotel,” I told him.

“How was it?” he asked.

“You know, all this time, I thought I was hung up on Tony. I thought he was the only one who could give me earth-shattering orgasms.”

“You don’t think that anymore?” he asked.

“No. I don’t think it’s Tony. I think it’s Italian-American dudes,” I said, cracking him up.

“I can see that,” he said. “Did you tell Carullo how old you are?”

“No,” I said. “It never really came up.” I didn’t even think about it. “Why?”

“That may really freak him out. I mean, you’re physically very young, at least when it comes to fuckability,” he said.

“I figure that if I look and act old enough to fuck, then I must be old enough to fuck,” I told him.

“That may work for some guys, but other guys may get pretty upset about it,” he said.

“Is Carullo mad at me?” I asked, really worried. That guy had been through so much, I sure as fuck didn’t want to make things worse. “Shit, Wade, we really needed each other. He’s such an awesome dude. I wasn’t trying to cause him problems.”

“Relax,” he said. “I haven’t talked to him, and neither has Matt. I just wanted you to think about that, so next time you’re tempted to drag a 23-year-old dude off to bed, you at least make sure he knows you’re only fifteen.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just latch onto your half-brother instead.”

“We both have to meet him first,” he said. “You’re welcome to go with me this weekend, but you don’t have to.”

I nodded. “This is going to be hell. My dad is trying to make this memorial the most amazing thing ever, so I’m sure it will rock, but it’s just so fucking sad.” I had to pause and wipe a tear from my eye. “Let’s see how I’m doing the next day, alright?”

“We’ll have to see how Matt’s doing too,” Wade said. “Maybe we’ll go see him on Sunday instead.”

“Sounds good,” I said, even though nothing about next weekend sounded good. We finally got back to the stables and I looked beyond them, to the garage, and saw a familiar car parked out back.

“Speaking of Italian-American men,” Wade said, following my gaze. “Aren’t those Missouri plates on that Camaro?”

“Looks like it,” I said. “I wonder what the fuck he wants.”

“One guess,” Wade teased.

“We’ll see about that,” I grumbled. We handed the horses off to the stable hands, and changed out of our riding tack. I needed a shower, but that would have to wait.

I found Tony hanging out with Stef in the kitchen. “Hey,” I said, and gave Stef a warm greeting.

“I had wondered where you went off to,” he said.

“I went riding with Wade,” I told him, then turned my attention to Tony, who looked pretty nervous. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” he said. God, his voice was sexy.

“You come up here to see me?” I asked.

“Among others,” he said, and smiled at Stef.

“Come on,” I said. He walked with me down the hall to my room. I looked sideways at his handsome form, remembering how much I used to care about him. That made me sad, and then it made me angry, angry at him for fucking with my mind, and for treating me like shit.

We got to my room and I opened the door then held it open for him, gesturing for him to enter. I followed behind him and closed and locked the door. “I was so worried about you,” he said to me lovingly, but that just pissed me off even more.

I moved toward him aggressively and slammed my palms on his chest, pushing him backward. “What the fuck did you tell your mother about me?”

“What are you talking about?” He seemed confused.

“You fucking heard me,” I yelled. “What the fuck did you tell her about me?”

“I didn’t tell her anything. When you didn’t come back from the float with me, I told her you went to the lake with friends,” he said. I could see how much that still bothered him, my running off with Mason.

“Did she tell you she saw me in New Jersey?” I asked.

“When?”

“On the 21^st,” I said. “I was at your cousin Joey’s funeral.”

“Joey Martinelli?” he asked. I nodded. “Why’d you go to his funeral?”

“Because I saw him when I was escaping from the South Tower,” I snapped.

He shook his head in confusion. “What happened with Ma?”

“I walked into the funeral with Wade and Matt, and when she saw me, she started gossiping about me to all the other ladies there, including Shirley Martinelli. So when I went up to see Joey, and I recognized him, I patted him on the shoulder, because that’s what he’d done to me when he walked by me in the tower.” He nodded, but was nervous, because he could feel my anger growing. “So Shirley jumps in and starts yelling at me, all but accusing me of molesting the corpse of her dead son, because your mom was telling her shit about me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he demanded, now as pissed off as I was.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I screamed. “So Joey’s boyfriend outed him at the wake, right after that, and she was freaking out, and so was her husband. After that, your mother walked up to me and accused me of stalking you.”

“She said that?”

“When the fuck did I ever stalk you?” I demanded, poking him in the chest. “When did I even do anything fucking close to that? When?!”

“You never did that, Will,” he said.

“Then why the fuck does she think that?” I was really losing it, but I couldn’t help it. “Who told her that shit?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You fucking liar,” I screamed. “You know who did it! You know goddamn well who did it. Say it!”

“Quit yelling at me,” he demanded.

“Fucking say it!” I screamed, ignoring him.

“You think it was Rick,” he said.

“Who else could it be?” I stood there, and he said nothing. “I’m waiting. Who else? It was either you or him.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he said weakly.

“Oh, you’ll talk to him. Big fucking deal. He’ll just feed you a bunch of bullshit, and you’ll believe it, because you’re too big of a fucking pussy to actually stand up for someone.”

“I didn’t come up here so you could beat the shit out of me,” he said, getting pissed.

“I didn’t go to that funeral expecting your mother to set me up either. Did she and Rick work that out together?” He said nothing. “She did tell me something interesting.”

“What?”

“She said that she wouldn’t react that way for you, the way your Aunt Shirley did,” I said. He freaked out about that, completely losing it.

“She thinks I’m gay?”

“No, you dumb fuck, she knows you’re gay, she’s just waiting for you to finally admit it to yourself and tell her,” I snapped.

“What did you tell her?” he demanded.

“I didn’t tell her shit,” I said. “I should have. I could have. I could have told her all about you and Rick, and how you treated me like shit. I could have told her about the float trip, and how you couldn’t even live up to your promise to keep your dick in your pants for one fucking night. If it was the other way around, Rick would have done that to me. But I didn’t say shit.”

“Thanks,” he said. He walked over and sat in one of my chairs and put his head in his hands.

“Are you still with him?” I asked, referring to Rick.

“What do you care?” he asked bitterly.

“Because that guy not only fucked me over, he was fucking cruel, and I want to know if you’re going to let him get away with it.” He said nothing. “You’re supposed to be my friend. You’re supposed to have my back. I’m not seeing it.”

“We’re sort of together,” he said nervously. I stared at him, waiting for him to expand. “We’re not supposed to fuck around with people, but if we do, it has to be just a fuck.” He was holding something back.

“And?”

“And I’m not allowed to fuck you,” he said.

I laughed and shook my head. I started taking off all of my clothes, taking my time as I took off my pants, then my shirt, and finally my boxers. His eyes were glued to my body the entire time. I pointed at my dick, which hung there limply. “In case you didn’t notice, the thought of fucking you, of being naked in front of you, doesn’t turn me on at all.” I turned around and walked into my bathroom and hopped in the shower. I wondered if he’d follow me in there. If he had that much courage, I might let him fuck me, I thought, and that made me chuckle. The water, and my own joke, started to work me out of my bad mood, and to calm the anger. I dried off and went out to get dressed, and was surprised to find him still there, sitting in my chair.

“Will, I’m really sorry about all the shit that’s happened,” he said sincerely. “I really am. I don’t know how to make it better.”

I went over and sat in the chair next to his. “I’ll tell you what I want. Three things. You do three things, and we’re friends again.”

“What are they?”

“You go see this guy,” I said. I jotted down David Sizemore’s name. “Or this guy.” I added Casey Bridgeport’s name to the paper.

“Who are they?”

“Shrinks,” I said. “The first one helped Robbie, the second one worked with JJ. Tell me which one you go to, and the bill is covered.”

“You think I need to see a shrink?” he demanded, all outraged.

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have that piece of paper in your hand,” I said. “And I don’t just think you need to see a psychologist, I know you need to see one. You know it too, you just won’t admit it.”

He looked up at me with his beautiful eyes, drawing me in. “What else?”

“Your mother owes me an apology. A written apology, explaining who told her that shit, and telling me that she knows I didn’t stalk you. And that she’s sorry for being a total bitch to me at that wake.”

“That’s going to happen, regardless,” he said, and he was pissed.

“And you dump Rick,” I said.

“Why?”

“It’s not because I want you,” I said. I saw that hit him hard, and I felt bad, because I was bruising his ego badly. “Much,” I added. He gave me a slight grin.

“Then why?”

“Because he’s an asshole,” I said. “He spread those lies about me, plotted to fuck me over like that. There is no way that dude is not playing mind games with you. He’s scum. He’s a lying sack of shit. I don’t want to let myself care about you, just to watch him fuck you up again.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, because he was thinking about it. “I’ll go see the shrink, and I’ll set my mom straight. Once I do, she’ll grovel without me asking her to.”

I nodded. “What about Rick?”

“I’ll think about what you said, and I’ll talk to the shrink about it.” That actually made sense.

“So you’re asking me to change the deal,” I said, as I stood up in front of him. “Wanna give me a reason to do that?” I asked in my quiet, sexy voice, the one that he loved. I dropped my towel, so my hardening dick was in his face.

“I can do that,” he said with a grin, and then he inhaled my cock. He gave me one amazing blow job, really getting me worked up, and then it was like we turned into crazed beasts, both of us trying to rip his clothes off as fast as we could. Then he was on top of me, kissing me even as he slid the condom on his cock, and then he was in me. I moaned and threw my head back as he speared me over and over again with his big dick, whispering in his ear like I’d done so many times before.

I knew him so well that I knew when he was close, so I stroked myself frantically to blow when he did, and I did a damn good job of syncing our orgasms. And after we came, after we were done, he was ebullient, so happy. I pretended to be, but I wasn’t. Sex with Tony used to blow my mind. It was like the whole world could explode, and I wouldn’t care. And while the sex we’d just had was good, great even, it wasn’t like it used to be.