The After of Us (Judge Me Not Spin-off)

by S. R. Grey

  Time to go a-searching…

  I feel bad for snooping through the files on Will’s laptop—which he conveniently left out on the coffee table in the living room—but I continuously remind myself that this breach of trust is for a good reason. I don’t really pay attention to what he has on his computer anyway, as I’m primarily focused on finding the comic book file.

  But then I come upon his spank bank of porn, and, well, I just have to take a minute to peruse.

  “Hmm, interesting,” I murmur after a few minutes of checking things out.

  Will’s porn collection is interesting. It’s comprised mostly of video clips—hot, little snippets of all kinds of action. The content is so raw and real that my own juices soon get flowing. There’s one of a pizza delivery guy delivering far more than pizza that I just have to watch all the way through.

  When I start squirming around on the sofa, wishing fervently that Will was back, I make myself close the clip.

  “Wow, Will.” I fan myself, trying to cool down. “I sure wish we could re-enact that one.”

  Too bad I can’t share my desire with Will, as I bet he’d be up for it, in more ways than one.

  Focus, Emma!

  A few minutes pass—and with my libido at bay, for the time being—I soon stumble upon the draft of Will’s comic book. Opening the file, I start a slide show of cells Will originally drew with his own hand.

  “Amazing,” I whisper as the colorful scenes quickly flow into a gripping story.

  I shake my head, impressed. Will is so damn unbelievably talented.

  From what I can gather—since I don’t have time to check out the whole book—his story revolves around a lead character named Champion, a muscle-bound guy who looks remarkably similar to Chase.

  I have to smile. Will loves his brother so very much.

  In Champion’s world, dark days have arrived. Crime runs rampant in a war-devastated Las Vegas. The subject matter is dark, yet somehow filled with hope. Champion is a kind of vigilante, one who imparts his own brand of justice. He helps the poor and downtrodden, and eventually they rise up against a criminal ring running Sin City.

  Quickly, I reach down to the floor and rummage through my purse to find the flash drive I brought. Once I have the drive in hand, I shove it into the USB port and swiftly copy the file.

  Just in time, too.

  After placing the flash drive back in my bag, Will strolls in with the pizza.

  I slam the lid down on his laptop and thrust myself back on the sofa cushions.

  Not noticing that anything is up, Will holds the pizza box aloft, and says, “Hope you’re hungry, babe. This thing is huge. The large-size pie here is way bigger than the pizza I’m used to getting out west.”

  “As long as you remembered pepperoni, I’m sure I can manage to eat my fair share,” I say, hoping I don’t look as guilty as I feel.

  “Yep, I remembered,” Will tells me. “I even asked for extra.”

  It’s then I notice that although I closed the laptop, I forgot to power it down. The on-light is glowing bright green, like an accusatory eye.

  Crap. I better distract Will so he doesn’t notice.

  “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” I suddenly start gushing as I flip my hair over my shoulder in what I hope is a sexy manner. “Maybe we should skip the pizza and go right to your reward.”

  Will looks utterly confused. “Reward?”

  Think fast.

  “Yes,” I purr, batting my lashes. “You deserve a reward for being so thoughtful and remembering that I love pepperoni.”

  Placing the pizza box on the island that separates the kitchen from the living room, Will eyes me curiously. “Are you feeling all right, Emma?” he asks.

  I sigh.

  And then I come clean.

  Well, kind of.

  Since I can’t tell Will what I was really up to—in case none of the agents ever get back to me—I go with a different tact.

  “Okay, you found me out.” I raise my hands, like I’m-so-busted. “Your laptop was sitting here”—I make a dramatic gesture to the laptop—“and I wanted to look up something on Google.”

  “All right,” Will says slowly. “So, what’s so awful about that?”

  “Um, well, nothing.” Just spit it out. “It’s just that I kind of stumbled upon your porn stash.”

  Will suppresses a laugh. “I don’t care, Emma. You really think I’d be mad about that?”

  “Well, yeah, kind of.”

  He cocks his head, observing me as he asks in a low voice, “Why? What’d you think? Were you offended?”

  “Uh… Not exactly.” My face warms. No, wait, everything warms. “Actually, I thought some of the clips were pretty hot.”

  Forgetting all about the pizza, Will stalks toward me. “Oh, yeah? Which ones?”

  I press back into the cushions, my pulse quickening. “Well, there was one in particular…”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s the video where the delivery boy gives the girl, uh, more than the pizza. Anyway, I thought that one was super-hot.”

  Will, having reached the sofa, stands over me, tall and foreboding. “How fitting then that I just brought in a pizza,” he rasps.

  “I think so, too.” I’m trying to play it shy, like the girl in the video.

  Will likes this game, I can tell. His smoldering emerald gaze grows dark. I like the play-acting, too. More than I ever thought I would. I want Will so much that I’m now pulsing in delicious anticipation. We both know the delivery boy took the girl fast and hard, from behind. But first, he made her strip in front of him, while he stood towering over her, barking out lewd commands.

  When Will unzips his jeans and demands, “Take your shorts off, slut!” I can’t wait to comply.

  Wow, am I ever glad I left the laptop on.

  Will

  This isn’t our usual sex, but damn, I definitely like it. I never thought I’d get off so much on commanding Emma to strip out of her clothes—while saying filthy things to her—but fuck, man, I do. It makes me hard as steel, in fact, as I watch her strip to nothing, while I remain clothed, with only my cock out and in my hand.

  I stroke myself slowly and watch her perky breasts swing as I command her to, “Get down on your fucking knees. Yeah, like that. Now, show me your hot little pussy.”

  She complies, and I reach forward with my free hand to pinch one of her nipples. Not hard, just enough to make her squirm. I then do the same as the dude in the video clip and tell Emma, “Get that ass in the air, bitch. Yeah, like that. You’re such a dirty girl.”

  As I deliver a smack to her high-in-the-air ass, Emma lets out a yelp.

  “Is it too much?” I ask, slipping out of character long enough to make sure I don’t go too far.

  But she assures me, “No, no, keep going. I love this, Will.”

  Damn, she’s not kidding. When I spread her cheeks, her pink folds are glistening, evidence of her excitement.

  “You like this, don’t you?” I ask as I dip a finger deep in her moisture, making her gasp.

  “Yes,” she moans as she rocks back and forth on me.

  I add a second digit. “Work yourself on my fingers. I want you ready for my cock.”

  More words from the clip that make Emma even wetter.

  “Damn, girl.” Those words are my own.

  When I remove my fingers, she cries out at the loss. But I’m not done. Squaring up her hips, I press the tip of my dick to her entrance. I give her no more, no less. I then make her beg for it, and she quickly parrots the desperate pleas of the girl in the clip. Only Emma sounds far more convincing than the actress. This is no act for my girl—she really wants me. And, fuck, I want her. But this time I also want to “feel” her, without the fucking condom. She’s been on the pill for over thirty days, we should be good.

  “Fuck it.” I thrust into her, and she pushes back against me, driving me in deeper. “Christ.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants.
r />   “Is this okay?” I ask, stilling my hips for a sec. “We’re good, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” she breathes out.

  “Good.”

  I proceed to then fuck Emma on the sofa, and on the floor, doggy-style. But then I want more than the video clip reenactment. I want us face-to-face when I make her come, so I can kiss her, seeing as I fucking love this girl.

  Draping myself over her back, I lean down and whisper in her ear, “You okay with deviating from the script.”

  “Yeah,” she murmurs.

  Pulling out, I turn her around to face me. “This is better, yeah?”

  She smiles and agrees, “It is, Will.”

  Emma stretches out before me on the sofa, and fuck, she looks hot. She beckons me with a curled finger, like I need an invitation.

  As I lower my body onto hers, she wiggles beneath me. “Give me all of your weight when you’re back inside me,” she says, breathing hard. “I love when you do that.”

  Sheathing myself in her soft canal, I let out a moan. And then, pressing down on her like she asked me to do, I touch my lips to hers. “I love you so much,” I whisper.

  “I love you, too, Will.”

  We move as one till she comes apart. And then I follow.

  Later, after we’re cleaned up and dressed once more, we finally get around to eating the pizza. It’s cold, but neither of us cares. We’re too famished from our intense activity.

  I turn on the TV at some point and we decide on a Netflix movie. It’s something old and kind of low-budget-y, but it doesn’t matter to me. I’m just happy hanging out with Emma.

  But I worry, as well. This isn’t my life. My life is fast-paced, punctuated by turmoil.

  Still, I could get used to this.

  If only my life could remain this carefree and simple.

  Emma

  I send out twenty-seven query letters, and then I send out twelve more, all with a sample of Will’s work. As my task proceeds, I check off each name on Will’s list of agents, the ones supposedly interested in repping an artist like him.

  And then I wait.

  A week passes…and nothing.

  And then it’s two weeks without a bite.

  Oh, well.

  Still, it saddens me that not one of the agents recognizes Will’s talent.

  Life, meanwhile, as it does, rolls on…

  August arrives, and Will enrolls Lily in kindergarten. We go down to the school together to complete the task, and afterward we walk around to the back of the building.

  “I want to show you something,” I tell Will.

  “What? Your flowers?” He gestures to the flower beds where he found me planting impatiens almost three months ago. “They sure have grown,” he murmurs.

  “They have,” I agree, and then I add, “But, no, silly boy, that’s not what I want to show you.”

  I nudge him in the side with an elbow and he lets out an exaggerated, “Oomph.”

  Grabbing his hand, I lead him over to a trail that snakes down the side of a wooded terrace. “What I want to show you is down that path.”

  Following behind me as I step onto the trail, he says, “Ooh, leading me into the deep, dark woods. What exactly do you plan to do with me, naughty girl?”

  I let go of his hand so I can turn around and swat his chest. “Nothing like what you’re thinking, perv.”

  “Too bad.”

  He sounds genuinely disappointed, and I consider for a minute whether we could mess around down in the woods. But then I remember Father Maridale, still up at the school, processing registrations, and I determine messing around is probably not such a good idea.

  I duck under a tree branch, and Will reaches forward to lift it out of my way. “Thanks,” I say.

  “For you, my darling, anything.”

  I shake my head at his playful and exaggerated tone. “Come on, Mr. Chivalry, we’re almost there.”

  Thirty seconds later, we walk into a clearing. There’s an old metal swing set that’s no longer in use located smack-dab in the middle of the field.

  “This,” I say, heading toward the swings with Will trailing behind, “is what I want to show you.”

  “Pretty cool,” he states when we reach the dilapidated, old swing set. “So, how long has this ancient relic been here?”

  I smack his arm. “I’d say long before our time, smartass.”

  When I plop down on the worn wooden seat of one of the swings, Will’s brow creases and he asks, “Is that thing safe?”

  There are three swings in total, but the wooden seat to the far left rotted in the middle and has since broken in half. Motioning to the busted swing, I reply, “As long as you don’t try to sit your ass on that one, you should be fine.”

  Chuckling, Will plops down on the intact swing next to me. “So, now what happens?” he asks.

  I push off. “We swing, silly.”

  At first, Will is hesitant. He drags his feet back and forth on the ground, his swing barely moving. But once I get going, he soon joins me.

  Flying high, to and fro, feels as freeing as it did back when I was a kid. And when Will starts to laugh, I know this is good for him, too. Sometimes you need to let go a little so you can forget the trials of adulthood, even if only for a short while.

  When we finally slow our swings, and eventually come to a full stop, we end up talking about Lily and the upcoming school year.

  Our childhood foray is over, back to the real world.

  Will asks me something about Lily’s curriculum, and I remind him that, unlike with daycare, Lily won’t be in my class.

  “I teach first graders, Will. Remember? It’s the same position Kay once held.”

  Will then proceeds to pepper me with dozens of questions about the current teacher, Mrs. Salazar, a young woman who’s due to have a baby in December.

  “Is she as good as you?” he asks.

  I blush at the compliment. “Yes, Will. She’s great. The kids love her.”

  “But she’s taking maternity leave around Christmas, right? Who’ll fill in?”

  “I’m not sure,” I reply honestly.

  “Can I meet this Mrs. Salazar before Lily starts school?”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “What if Lily doesn’t like her?”

  I sigh. “Will, really?”

  For a guy who once planned to place Lily in twelve hours minimum of daily daycare up in New York City, he sure has changed his tune. Talk about an overly concerned father.

  “Everything will be fine,” I assure him.

  Truthfully, Will’s concern for Lily makes me love him even more.

  A few days later, and still a couple of weeks before school starts, we get word that Mrs. Salazar has been put on bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy.

  “Now what will Lily do?” Will wants to know.

  A new wave of worry now plagues the poor guy.

  “Father Maridale will find someone competent to take over,” I assure him.

  “Yeah, like who?”

  This conversation occurs in Chase and Kay’s dining room. We were invited over for an end-of-summer cook-out. Chase is in the back, grilling and watching the kids as they play, and Kay is in the kitchen, which is directly off the dining room. She’s boiling freshly picked corn, as I hear her stirring the water.

  Kay must hear our discussion of the school situation, for she comes in after a minute, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Hey, what about me?” she asks, smiling surreptitiously.

  I give Will a look that implores: Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?

  He shrugs as Kay walks over to stand next to his chair. Glancing up at her, he asks, “What’s up, my favorite sister-in-law?”

  She swats him with the towel. “I’m your only sister-in-law,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “Still my fave,” Will states matter-of-factly.

  I chuckle at their banter. Will’s really becoming an integral part of their family. It’s like he was a
n outsider for so long, mostly of his own doing, but not anymore. He’s found his place here.

  Will then asks Kay, “So, why do you look so smug?”

  “Maybe it’s because I have some good news,” Kay replies.

  “Oh, is it something to do with the school situation?” I interject.

  “Yes.”

  Will puts it together, same as I do, and, as he does, hope blooms in his verdant eyes. “And this good news would be…?” he asks.

  Kay is beaming when she announces, “I am taking over Mrs. Salazar’s kindergarten class.”

  “That is so awesome,” I say.

  Will echoes my sentiment, and adds, “Hell, this may be the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  Kay goes on to explain how she and Chase mulled it over and ultimately decided that since Jack is starting first grade—in my class—and Sarah will be entering kindergarten with Lily, she may as well go back to work. And the teaching job will keep her close to her kids all day.

  “I was originally thinking of picking up a part-time job in town,” she informs us. “Like, maybe something at a store or a restaurant. But then Father Maridale called and told me Mrs. Salazar was taking medical leave. He asked if there was any way he could convince me to come back and take over the kindergarten class.” She smiles. “Let’s just say it didn’t take too much convincing.”

  “This is so great,” I reiterate. “Not only will you be around Sarah and Lily all day, but you’ll only be a couple of classrooms away from Jack.”

  “It is rather perfect,” Kay agrees.

  Will, of course, remains elated. Chase comes in right then with a platter of burgers and hot dogs. The kids trail behind him, quietly, till they take their seats at the table. Then, it’s chatter time.

  Over their lively little voices, Chase peers over at Will. “You’re smiling, bro, so I take it Kay told you the good news that she’s returning to teaching?”

  “She sure did,” Will replies. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

  Chase laughs. “I bet.”

  After an amazing dinner, and the rest of the evening spent out in the backyard, I inform everyone that I need to head back to my place. Will asks why, and I fib and say I have some lesson plans to attend to. Really, I’m just anxious to check and see if today brought any responses to the many query letters I’m still waiting to hear back from.