Chapter 19

* * * *

Somewhere in the dim recesses of Rich’s mind, pain existed. Bruised knees. Aching back. Caught in the throes of climax he didn’t care. A vague wonderment flared. Would he ever stop coming?

He did, but the aftershocks locked him in place as lava rushed through his limbs. Joints screamed, and extremities tingled. He must move. Movement was the only way to hold back the rising tide of misery, buthe couldn’t so much as put down a hand or a knee.

“Fuck…Rich.”

Not an instruction or question. A plea. A hand pushed against one of Rich’s shoulders, Ethan unable to move either, the nudge useless.