Millstone - Novel 01 Ch. 03

"How could you know that?"

"I overheard Glenn, who I assume was Tommy's roommate, tell the sisters that he finally went out on a date."

Edgerton shook his head. "That's irrelevant. Unless the guy had direct involvement in Tommy's death, he has no culpability, and since Tommy died of suicide, he's innocent. Look, I understand that you want to help, but Tommy had some serious mental problems. It surprises me he made it this long."

Albert rapidly grew uncomfortable. "How about the three of us go get some lunch."

I understood Albert's intentions, and I hadn't blamed him. Edgerton was his friend, and he wanted to keep the peace, so message received. I told Edgerton that I enjoyed meeting him, a slight over-exaggeration on my part but a necessary one. As he reminded me, I had only been in town for ten minutes; it seemed early in the game to start making enemies.

I saw the problem as one of purpose. The police exist to enforce laws, and they had no reason to run down someone who hadn't broken any. For myself, however, I have an interest in the facts. It sounded too easy to dismiss Tommy's actions as those of someone mentally ill. He was getting his life together, and suddenly, after one date, he kills himself? I hadn't liked the sound of it. It used too many assumptions that made no sense.

Max asked me, "Edgerton hates you, doesn't he?"

We sat eating in Stradeli's, an Italian deli, just off Main Street.

"I wouldn't say he hates him," said Albert and then turned to me, "but I wouldn't say he doesn't hate you either."

"Are you trying to baffle me?"

"How about just minding your P's and Q's around him until you have some more experience of one another? You're both detectives with a different experience, and trust me on this cousin, he's good at his job."

"I'm sure. I apologize if I harmed your friendship with him."

"I appreciate that, but I wouldn't worry; he's resilient, he'll bounce back."--he pulled out his cell phone--"Could I have both your phone numbers? I might need to contact you."

Max gave him his.

"I have no cellphone."

"Really." He looked at me as if I were an alien. "Thomas told me you were starting over, but I hadn't realized he meant that so fully. Well, we need to get you a phone today."

I enjoyed having communication again, but we needed transportation. When Albert dropped us off for the day, we spent much of the afternoon sitting on the couch in our apartment, scavenging the local newspaper and the online ads. We couldn't find anything that hadn't screamed soccer mom, ugly, or inherently unreliable.

Halfway through, something came up, namely my cock. I hadn't cum since that morning at Max's second pounding up the bum, and it distracts from my concentration if I go too long. I slipped off my pants, and Max slipped onto the floor in front of me. That handsome stud shoved my cock down his throat and proceeded to show me his lack of gag reflex. It took little time, and I shot my load almost directly into his stomach. He dragged himself back up the length of my schlong, and the head emerged with a loud pop. He then cleaned me up, licking whatever he'd missed from my dong as he played with it. He then sucked the head of it, casually jacking me until he knew I could go again. As he picked up the pace, I felt as though he were milking me. He wanted to taste this one, and when I came, I filled his mouth with shot after shot of the rich cream he loved so much. I had never met anyone who could guzzle cum the way Max would. If I could have shot a gallon's worth, he wouldn't have stopped until it filled his belly, stretching his six-pack like he had beer-bonged an entire pony keg of man juice.

The greasy spoon up the street was not healthy food, and we knew that. Neither of us wanted to continue eating there. As a bodybuilder, Max ate clean, but he ate a lot. We had one last meal there that evening, requesting the healthiest thing on their menu. We both slumped in our chairs at the counter, looking at the seared T-bone and fries on our plates, a sad sprig of wilted parsley for garnish.

"Boy, do we need a car," said Max as neither one of us wanted to hire a cab to take us everywhere we went. That would quickly get expensive.

With every bite, my resolve to avoid buying a vehicle as unappealing and unsavory as the piece of over-cooked beef at the end of my fork softened into settling for what we could get, just as we had with the plates before us.