I greeted him. I’d been a few minutes late after all, thanks to that final, incredible blowjob in the shower. It was worth it. “I guess it’s about time we finally talked things out,” he conceded. “Erin told you of my plans for the resort?” “Briefly. I’d like to hear it from you. But, shall we get a drink first, and toast to making new friends of old enemies?” I was taken aback by his bluntness, but the sentiment was one I shared. I signaled the bartender to bring two double shots from my private bottle of eighteen-year-old single malt Scotch. It was rich and peaty, aromatic from several feet away as the server approached. “New friends,” I said, raising my glass. “Old enemies,” Doc returned, taking the sting out of it with the mischievous look in his eyes. What he had to say next nearly derailed me, though once he’d said it, so many things began to make sense. Things I’d buried in my subconscious over the years, questions that a young boy didn’t even know to ask, much less how.
