Chapter 1: Andre's Story
"Damn."
Raven sat at her computer bored and lonely.
She wanted to talk to someone. No, that wasn't it. Not really. She wanted to touch someone. And, she wanted someone to touch her. She sighed, frustrated . . . again.
It'd been so very long since she'd had a lover. There had been offers--there always were--but nothing she found attractive. Boring men. Nasty, but not the fun kind of nasty. Short-haired men with no imagination beyond knowing they wanted to fuck her. She had no shortage of admirers as a fiery redhead with a Marilyn Monroe figure (complete with curvaceous hips, an hourglass waist, and full breasts with very attentive nipples).
No, she wanted someone who made her blood boil. She wanted someone who had muscular arms. Someone dark and intense. A tattooed someone who could make her feel vulnerable and protected all at once. Too bad she didn't know anyone like that. She sighed again and flipped on her IM.
"Hmmm . . . " She thought, "no one good on." Damn, she'd have liked to talk to her old friend Andre, but he wasn't on.
Funny, thinking of Andre. He'd been her boyfriend's best friend when they'd all hung out after high school. They did wild, crazy things--playing with their lives as though they were nothing but penny ante at a family poker game. Climbing a train trestle two-hundred feet in the air on a whim, with no gear. They always did crazy stuff like that. Andre had been attractive back then--tall, with longish black hair, olive complected and lean. But he'd also been Steban's best friend. As time went on, she stopped seeing him as anything but Stefan's best bud--a brother. He flirted with her a bit, but nothing compared to what most guys did around her back then.
"Heh," she grinned, remembering. Most guys couldn't manage to meet her eyes when talking to her (many still had the same problem, but back then she was more prone to skimpy outfits and careless flirtations). When she and Steban broke it off, she lost touch with Andre, too. It was just too weird, spending time with her former lover's lifelong best friend.
Five years passed before she saw Andre again, and when she did, it was just unbelievable chance that brought them together. She'd been driving home late at night and was stopped by a construction worker holding a Stop/Slow sign. When she stopped for him, he called out her name.
"Raven? Raven, is that you?" Surprised, she said it was and was delighted when she realized it was Andre. They talked briefly and he gave her his number. She thought about calling, several times, but never did (she'd had a boyfriend at the time and didn't want to be unfaithful). What a fool she'd been. Her faithfulness was never the issue. His, on the other hand, had been nonexistent. She should have called.
Now, here it was ten years after that last brief encounter and he'd found her again. She'd put up a webpage on a popular network in order to keep in touch with distant family and friends--never taking much interest in it beyond that. Then, one day, she'd gotten an odd email.
"I know you," it said, simply, and nothing more. The picture attached to the email was that of a well built, tattooed back.
"Very nice," she had thought, "but who the hell are you?" The name on the profile was Andrew.
"Andrew? I don't know any one named Andrew. Probably another freak." She'd gotten plenty of those "I want u" or "I want 2 fuck u" emails from complete strangers. But she had that niggling little hint in the back of her mind, so instead of deleting it, she replied.
"Congratulations, good for you." A nasty little tease, she knew, but if he really did know her, he'd respond.