Angel Dust

A/N: This chapter contains sexual content. I disclaim, and hope you Enjoy!

Standing at the kitchen counter, Courtney tightened her terrycloth robe and stared at the pile of white power on the compact mirror before her. The baggie had rested in the top drawer of the island for nearly six months, waiting for her to need it. She had purchased it from a customer during the coffee shop's grand opening, determined to take it home and celebrate the start of her new business in memory of her husband. But something always held her back.

Randy's declaration that Dave wanted her to come home had hit her harder than she let on. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she clutched the last razor blade Dave had used to cut his last line in her left hand, staring from it to her wedding band. Fighting a sardonic chuckle, she shook her head. He still thought he could tell her what to do.

"Excuse me?" Courtney asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she leveled her boyfriend with her eyes.

"I said you're not going," Dave answered easily from the desk in their home office.

Disbelief evident in her eyes, Courtney took a step into the office and shook her head. "Okay, DAD," she emphasized the word and then moved her hands to her hips. "Except that I am," she added.

Looking up from his paperwork, Dave folded his hands comfortably before him. "Courtney, I haven't had a night off in three weeks. You've been so buried with finals and projects that we haven't spent twenty waking minutes alone together," he reasoned, his brow furrowing as he tried to explain what should have been blatantly obvious to his girlfriend. "You're staying home with me tonight."

It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him. It was the tone in his voice, the condescending nature with which he laid down his order that made her cringe. "Why? So you can order me around some more?" He rolled his eyes. "Look, you may be fifteen years older than me, but you are not my father. I am a big girl and I can decide if I'm going to get a drink with my friends."

"Are you done?" he asked quietly, leaning back in his chair as the corners of his lips twitched into a sly smile. "God, you're beautiful when you're angry."

She didn't want to smile, fought like hell to keep it at bay. Narrowing her eyes, she chewed on her cheek and refused to let up. It wasn't the first time he had said something like this, and she feared if she didn't nip it in the bud, he would only get worse. "I'm serious, Dave," she said. "I may play your bitch sometimes, but I am not your puppy. You can't roll up the newspaper and smack me on the nose every time I do something of which you don't approve."

He nodded. "For the record, I'm not trying to control you," he responded, wiping the grin from his lips as he spoke. "I'm sorry if it came out that way. You go," he waved with a hand and looked back at the papers on his desk. "I probably won't be done for a couple of hours anyway."

Courtney walked to the edge of the desk and pushed the papers to the side with a smile. She hadn't really wanted to go out for drinks, anyway. Lifting her body onto the smooth, wooden surface and she spun around until her feet rested on his armrests. "You sure you're not done now, Baby?"

She knew, even as she told Randy that she would think about his proposal, that she was returning to DC in a matter of weeks. If that's where Dave wanted her, that's where she would go. Because no matter how many times she tried to resist him, she knew that she was just as powerless to him now, a year after his passing, as she had been when he was alive.

Carefully using the blade in her hand to separate the powder into piles, she worked slowly and diligently, cutting the lines just as Dave had shown her. Well aware of his presence in the darkened doorway, Courtney finished her work as she spoke to Randy. "You gonna tell me not to do this, Choir Boy?"

Randy smiled at the nickname, the one Dave had given him a few years back, and shook his head. He had never been ashamed of the fact that he was always saying "no," never really felt the need for the substances his friend ingested. But he had never thought about telling anyone to take a step back. They were all adults, and their choices were just that – theirs.

Watching carefully, his eyes followed Courtney as she bent over the island and carefully snorted one line. Stopping to sniffle, she blinked and let out a gaping breath. "Oh, that's good," she winked at him. Holding a hand out, she motioned for him to join her. "One more, Orton. You in?"

He approached with another shake of his head, leaning against the counter behind her as she bent to do the second line. When she turned, the look in her dark eyes scared him a little bit. "You okay?"

Courtney blinked and nodded, sniffling once more as she ran her finger under her nose. "Better than okay," she assured him. It wasn't her first time snorting coke, but it had been awhile, and the instant heady feeling she experienced made her laugh loudly.

Reaching out an arm to steady her, Randy rested his hand on her hip and leaned forward to brush her blonde locks from her face. "You're not gonna feel so okay when you crash, Sweetheart."

Moving to him, Courtney kissed Randy's bare chest without thinking. "Don't care," she insisted, flipping her hair over one shoulder and returning to his nipple. Teasing it with her tongue, she smiled up at him. "For now, I feel, and that's all that matters."

The hunger with which she looked at him made Randy hard instantly. He had been so good, controlled himself so expertly, when she wasn't showing any interest. But as she backed away from him and untied her robe, he found he couldn't contain his desire any longer. And he didn't want to.

Completely naked, Courtney hoisted herself onto the island and held out a hand. "Come here," she invited, smiling coyly at Randy as she hooked her finger and motioned him over. Her body was crackling and spinning, her skin tingling, as he moved to her and placed his hands on her thighs.

Pushing her legs apart, Randy stepped close to the counter and pulled her flush against his chest. The feeling of her skin against his set him over the edge as he attacked her lips, sucking until she moaned and thrust her tongue into his mouth.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe he would regret it later, but if he had to get used to taking care of this woman, he was going to get something in return. Something other than the appreciation of a dead man.

For the first time since Dave had died, Courtney felt her body reacting to the touch of another person. She had watched all of his old porn, looked at his magazines, bought a couple of her own. Her fantasies of her late husband had allowed her to find release on more than one occasion, but it had been a year since a man had been inside her.

Whether it was the drugs, or the mere anticipation of human contact, Courtney tore her lips from Randy's and gasped. "I want you inside me, Orton," she panted, her hands flying to the waist band of his black boxer briefs. Forcing them over his hips, she grabbed his shaft in her fist. "Now."

He barely had time to respond before she slid over the edge of the counter and guided him into her wet opening. With a groan, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the island for support. Holding her ass with both hands, he found a rhythm while she guided herself up and down on him.

Courtney threw her head back and tried to clear her mind. Dave was still there – he was never really gone – but for now the only things that existed were the pumping sensations of her blood in her veins, and Randy inside her.

Dave had been right. He had died, but Courtney had allowed herself to stop living right along with him. Until that moment, she hadn't even realized that the numb feeling which had fallen over her at his passing had never really gone away. But as Randy put her feet on the floor and turned her around, bending her over the island and entering her again sharply from behind, she remembered what "alive" felt like.

She came first, with a scream, just before Randy withdrew and emptied himself on her lower back with an animalistic growl. Her body shook as she collapsed onto him in a sweaty heap on the floor.

Reaching for his trembling hand, she wove her shaking fingers around his. "Orton?" she gasped.

"Yeah?" he panted, turning his face to look at the exhausted woman beside him.

She smiled and closed her eyes, licking her lips. "I wanna go home."