by Lee Wardlow
I separated my thighs letting his body slide between my legs. His hand slipped beneath me so he could hold me closer as he thrust hard into me. I arched my body wanting to take all of him inside me. I wrapped my legs around him and clutched at his back, pressing my fingers into his firm skin.
He was slow and deliberate in his movements. Our lips crashed into each other whenever they could. His forehead rested next to my head and his lips were near my ear. The dirty things he said to me that normally would embarrass me didn’t. I was so lost in the haze of lust that he had started; those words he whispered to me only fueled my passion.
Ronan withdrew from me and flipped me over onto my stomach. He slapped my bare ass leaving a slow burn. “You do have a fine ass Skylar O’Halloran.” I glared at him over my shoulder. I rose up on all fours and pressed back into his body. I was aching for him; urging him to finish what he had started. His eyebrow rose over his barely open eyes. He pushed my legs even further apart. I had to lay my head against the coolness of his sheets to steady myself.
He touched me, gently. Rubbing his hand across my gaping pussy. I almost slid down to the mattress with Ronan’s caress. Then he slid inside me. The angle let him touch me in places that left me struggling to breath in air. My body feeling things I had never felt before. He pushed me flat onto the mattress with the weight of his body. Ronan thrust. I groaned. This position made me tighter around his cock. “Jesus, Skylar. You are so fucking tight,” he gasped.
I was. With each thrust of his body into mine it was almost painful. Ronan’s arms laid over top of mine. His fingers interlaced with my fingers. We were both breathing hard. I was gasping with the weight of his body pressing into me. He thrust hard. I moaned. His body tensed. He groaned deep in his throat as he found release in me.
Ronan wrapped his arms around me rolling onto his side taking me with him so that we were both laying on our sides. He had come inside me, hard and fast. We were trying to just let our breathing return to normal. Let our hearts stop racing. “That was fucking amazing,” he drawled. Then he kissed my neck.
He hadn’t let me go. I clutched at his arms wrapped around me. I held onto him with a sense of urgency. Afraid of what we had done. Afraid of what he might be feeling. I treasured the friendship that we had shared since we were little kids. Would it be awkward in the morning? Was I supposed to stay? I gave Ronan a little push and his arms let me go. I gave him another push and he rolled flat onto his back. He was already asleep.
I propped myself up on my elbow and stared down at him. He was beautiful, naked and asleep. His long lashes caressed the golden skin of his cheek. His hair slightly tousled.
Now what?
I thought I should go. Wait and see if he called me next week to have lunch. That would determine whether it was going to be awkward between us. I would never forget this night. As I stared at Ronan Moore, I knew that the love I felt was real love. Stupid of me, I knew but the lunches with him over the last three years had done me in. The sex was the sinker. I was done for. He was going to be hard to get over. Maybe at the end of the year when we went our separate ways. No more lunches together. No running into each other downtown on a Friday night at The Banks or at the Square listening to music.
I slipped out of bed and went to the living room. I gathered my clothes that were scattered across the entrance. I dressed quickly; sore from our lovemaking. A good kind of sore, you know. I glanced over my shoulder at the bedroom. When I was fully clothed, I went back to check on Ronan. He was on his stomach. His bare ass staring me straight in the face.
I walked into the room and I touched the curve of his behind. He didn’t stir. I covered him with a blanket from the foot of the bed. Then I leaned down, brushed his hair from his face and kissed his cheek.
**
Tuesday at eleven, I walked out of my Adolescent Development class. Spring Break was over and done with. The only excitement I had during the week off was in Ronan’s bed.
My phone rang. I glanced at the screen and saw Ronan’s number. Yesterday, I kept looking at my phone all day worried that he wouldn’t call me and scared that he would call.
“Hey Skybug.” His deep, husky voice filled my ear reminding me of the naughty things he had whispered to me in his bed.
“Ronan,” I responded when I answered the call.
“I’m saving you a seat at our spot,” he said. His tone teasing and friendly. Nothing awkward yet. Maybe he was saving it for in person.
“I’ll be there in ten. I have to walk across campus.”
I breathed in and out. Calming myself as I strolled across the rather large campus that made up the University of Cincinnati. I could see him sitting at our usual table when I arrived. A private corner near the window. He had already purchased lunch for us. He stood and waved at me. Damn, he looked as scrumptious in a cotton, green t-shirt and jeans as he did naked in his bed on Saturday night. When I approached he leaned down and kissed my cheek.
“How was Spring break?” He asked.
I glanced up at him puzzled by that question. “Just fine.” I sat in the chair right next to him just like I always did and sat my bag on the floor.
“Hey, Stokes said we ran into you at Hot Shot on Saturday night.” His statement was casual and off-handed.
“You did. You don’t remember?” I frowned at him.
He had just bitten into his sandwich. He shook his head and gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry babe. I was wasted. Blowing off steam before we hit the books hard again.”
“What’s Stokes’ excuse?” I asked.
His green eyes twinkled at me. “He just likes to party.”
“What did he say?” I asked casually. I ate some of my sandwich. Took a sip of my tea.
“Just that he thought we ran into you. The details were a little murky for him too.”
I cocked my head to the side. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. The best sex of my life and the damn fool didn’t remember it.
“Sky, you all right?” He laid his sandwich down and he put his hand over mine.
“I’m fine,” I said unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.
“You sure. You look flushed and sound kind of like somebody ran over your puppy.”
I chuckled at him. “I’m fine. Really I am.”
We talked after that. The conversation was casual but in my mind I kept seeing naked Ronan Moore with this face buried between my legs pleasuring me. Holy hell. I hate my life.
Chapter 1
The mighty have fallen.
I cracked under the pressure or else this is called Karma and it is biting me in the ass big time. I gave in and tried the demon drug. The one that I swore I would never do.
I have always been a cocky bastard. Confident in my abilities and myself. Afraid of nothing. I never let anyone get me down or hold me back. I was going to be the most successful man in my family. Apparently, I was like my grandfather Joey. More than I cared to admit. The drive, determination and the recklessness, that was me and that was Joey Bonds.
My undergrad degree in economics came first; graduating from UC at the top of my class five years ago. I worked two years for a multi-national firm in Cincinnati in their analytics department. I was doing pretty damn well for myself saved up a bunch of money then decided to apply for law school. UC accepted me and at the age of twenty-seven, I just graduated from law school in the top five percent of my class.
This weekend partying. Next week, buckling down I begin studying for the bar with several top firms clamoring for me to accept a position with them. I had life by the balls. I had it all and that my friends is when it all came crashing down around my ears.
It just takes one mistake to change your life. To change the perspective others have about you. To make you question yourself. To make those who love you most question you as well. Who you are and what you want in life is all now under a microscope. I thought I had everything under control. I thought I had it under control. I was sadly mistaken.
Seven
people in the state of Ohio die from a heroin overdose every day. In two days, in the city of Cincinnati, fifty people overdosed. A record high number of overdoses. Who wants to be part of that notoriety? No one does but I was one of those numbers.
What did I do? I tried the shit. At Stokes place with some boys I knew from college. We had switched up our shit from pot to coke within the last couple of years, when pot was no longer the high it once was; future lawyers, doctors, CEO’s; burning off steam. Somebody thought it was a good idea to try heroin.
Stokes or Mickey got the smack? I don’t know who or where but this shit was laced with stuff. Shit no human should ever shoot up. I can’t even describe the high I achieved in a short amount of time. No wonder people got hooked on smack so easily.
My friends…they were my friends but no longer. They assured me it was safe. Just try it once. A high like no other. They freaked the fuck out when I apparently OD not because of the dose but because of what it was laced with. I caved. I slid the needle into my arm. No big deal. Right? This was a huge step. The hard stuff. I could control it like I did the coke.
My first reaction is tingling. My joints. My spine. My stomach feels like butterflies are swarming down there. My blood is warm. The hands of God have taken hold of me at the base of my skull and are squeezing my brain with images of what could be. This is a high like no other. My eyeballs are even relaxed I am so chill.
“This is some shit,” I tell Stokes.
“No kidding,” he replies.
“You’ve done this before?”
“Once,” he says.
He’s going to go next. They are preparing the syringe for him.
And this my friends is when it all went south. My chest feels tight. The high no longer feels good. My eyes roll back in my head. My body feels stiff and I can’t control it.
“Fuck, he’s convulsing,” I hear Mickey shout. Stokes’ shot is forgotten.
“What do we do?”
WTF, they need to get me to the hospital. I am struggling to breath. I want to tell them that but I can’t. Why? I am dying. Slowly and painfully. My heart feels like it is thumping in my chest at an irregular beat.
“Man, we can’t just take him to the ER.”
Who said that?
“Grab his feet,” Mickey told somebody. He had my upper body. Luckily we were at Stokes’ apartment which was close to several downtown hospitals.
I was struggling to breathe. Heart beat? Almost non-existent. They loaded me into Mickey’s car and drove the three blocks to the city hospital. They were frantic.
“How’s he doing?” I could hear Mickey’s frantic voice in my near comatose state.
“Same,” Stokes replied. They were the only two of our friends who came. The others bailed. The car stopped with a jolt. I didn’t know where we were. “We’re leaving him,” Stokes told Mickey.”
“Leaving him where?”
“In front of the ER doors,” Stokes replied. “Love Ronan to death but not getting into trouble for him. I have my career to think of man.”
“Stokes, you are a dick,” Mickey replied.
I felt cool air on my face when Mickey opened the door. Then I was being dragged across the seat. They were carrying me a short distance until they laid me none to gently on the hard concrete in front of the doors of one of the busiest hospitals in downtown Cincinnati. They just dropped my ass in front of ER doors and scrammed. Funny thing, it was the same hospital where my older brother, Liam Moore was an ER doctor.
My luck that night held true to form, he was working.
“Hey, you can’t just leave him,” a man shouted. “I need an orderly and a gurney.” Two fingers pressed to the pulse at my neck. “Better hurry. This one has no pulse.”
I could hear the wheels of the gurney clicking against the concrete as they wheeled it outside to me. Two men threw my ass on it. Funny what you can hear when your death is gripping you. Wanting to take you away. “Damn, he’s a big mother fucker,” they griped. “Almost dropped him,” one said. I didn’t feel it. I was out of it but I could hear them. I had already convulsed twice, once at home and once in the car besides barely breathing or having a nearly non-existent pulse.
“Another junkie,” they sneered at my dying, overdosed ass.
Not me. I was no fucking junkie.
At first, it felt had like pure bliss when the shit hit my bloodstream. All my worries disappeared. I could see why people were so addicted to this shit. My body felt warm and safe. I was mellow and chill. I was one happy mother fucker.
My friends had convinced me to try it just this one time. Never again. We would return to our pot or coke habit. Just this once. It wouldn’t hurt. I was pretty disciplined with my coke habit. Smoked weed on a regular basis. Could go without the coke for months. I could do this. I was a dumb fucker.
So what caused my reaction? The shit was bad that they gave me. Not that they knew it. It was laced with something that was used to put down an elephant; I found out later. I was first to try it. First to convulse. Only one to get dropped in front of the hospital where Liam was on duty.
Even in my state, I could hear him. His panic. “That’s my brother,” he said to someone. Then he was slapping my face. “What the fuck Ronan? What did you take?” Not like I could respond even though I could hear him.
My clothes were being removed. “Needle mark, left arm,” somebody said. “You need to call your parents Liam.”
Shit, was I going to die? I’m only twenty-seven years old. This is going to kill my mom. I can’t die.
**
I didn’t know what the hell to do. I couldn’t call Mom and Dad and tell them, hey guess what looks like Ronan OD on something. Most likely Heroin. That wasn’t news you shared over the phone with your parents, not with Declan Moore, my father. I called Jamie, my twin brother who also lived in Pointe Royal.
I could hear in his voice when he answered the phone that I had woken him from a sound sleep. “Moron, do you know what time it is? Seth and I have to be onsite at six a.m. in the morning,” he snapped at me. He had no life. I had no life. Our other two brothers were married to O’Halloran girls. One was beautiful and sweet, Aine. One was sweet and sassy, Ryan. Apparently Ronan thought drugs were the path to take after busting his ass in law school. I was at a loss for what had possessed our little brother to do heroin.
Seth was our cousin, Sophia’s husband. He worked with Jamie and our dad, Declan as electricians for Dad’s company which was thriving. They were so busy they worked every Saturday right now. Dad hadn’t gone to college, neither had Jamie but he had always done well for himself. Seth and Jamie were doing pretty well too.
My other brothers were the triplets, Ronan studying law. Fionn took over the farm that had been in our family for generations. He and Aine, his wife is expecting another baby. Their first, Gracie Lou was turning two soon. Ciaran and Ryan were content with their two little angels that are not quite so angelic. They had their hands full with the twins, James and Annie. Both identical twin girls. Then Sophia and Seth had two little girls. Two-year-old Charlotte, one-year-old, Asia. Not sure of Sosie’s second name choice but what a beauty she is. I have to admit the girls have me wrapped around their little fingers just like their moms.
Back to the shit storm, my brother Ronan has caused. “I know what time it is Jamie. Man, I don’t even want to tell you this over the phone.”
“What is it?” He asked. I could tell my twin was now sitting up. He was awake and listening to what I had to say. This was bad. This was something the Moore family had never dealt with.
“Ronan was left in front of the ER doors tonight. Possible drug overdose.”
Jamie laughed. “Yeah right. You asshole, you woke me up with this bullshit. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding. You need to head over to Mom and Dad’s and tell them. He’s bad Jamie. They don’t know if he’ll pull through. You guys need to come down here.”
“Fuck, you aren’t kidding,�
� Jamie snapped. I could hear him rustling about. I assumed getting up and dressed. “Call me if anything changes.”
**
Gramps answered the phone at the farm since Aine and Fionn neither one answered their cells. He was an amazing guy at eighty-one. Grams had been gone for two years. I knew he was lonely but the kids all kept him going. More babies meant Gramps was hanging on, long silver ponytail and beard. He looked like a biker grandpa. I don’t think he had ever ridden a motorcycle in his life though. That would have been my other grandfather, Joey Bonds. I didn’t know him because he died before I was born.
“Gramps, it’s Jamie.”
“Kind of late Jamie, what’s wrong?” His deep voice was gruff and yet comforting. I knew he would be awake because since Grams death, he seemed to roam the old farmhouse, unable to sleep. I often visited to find him napping in the middle of the afternoon, in the worn recliner.
“Liam called from downtown. He’s summoning all of us to the hospital. Ronan was brought in to the hospital tonight. He OD on something.”
“Your brother Ronan?” The surprise in my grandfather’s voice was the same emotion that I experienced after I realized that my brother wasn’t kidding me.
“Yeah, my reaction was pretty similar.” I rubbed my hand across my messy hair. “Liam said he’s in bad shape. Grab Fionn and head to the hospital.” I knew Aine would stay with Gracie.
“We’ll be right there,” Gramps replied.
I hung up on Gramps and called my other brother Ciaran. Ryan answered his phone. I was waking everyone up tonight. “Hey Brat, I need Ciaran.” Fionn and Ciaran were going to have the hardest time with this news other than Mom and Dad. Ronan was Ciaran’s identical twin. He, Fionn and Ciaran were triplets born two years after me and Liam. This was bad. Really, really bad.
“Jamie is on the phone,” I heard her tell Ciaran. She sounded concerned. They all knew we didn’t call each other after midnight, unless something was wrong.