If we hadn't been so poor, it wouldn't have mattered.

My mom had inherited a struggling dairy farm in upstate New York, and her personal life was in just as much a shambles as our farm. After her first divorce, she'd married Jackson's dad. He was even poorer than us, and an alcoholic loser to boot, and life had kept on being a struggle.

When I'd met Ellis, it had seemed like a one-way ticket out of misery and privation. My mom had always hounded me when I grew up: Mia, you're pretty. Marry a doctor. So when Ellis, with his good looks and money, had wanted to date me, I said yes and never looked back.

Nevertheless, I had to admit, something was missing between us; call it chemistry, love, whatever you like. But when you live in the real world like me, you didn't worry about those things. I had everything I wanted, and Ellis' money had pulled my family out of poverty, and that was enough. Screw love and attraction and warm-fuzzies and all that other wishy-washy stuff—I had it made.

Now if I could only forget about Jackson.

Even after five years, I still thought about him. Almost every day, actually. How could I not? The summer he moved in had been the first time I'd fallen in love, and it kept replaying in my mind, over and over, especially when I was bored, sitting around the house, or when Ellis' constant adoration started to get tiring.

I still remembered all those feelings I'd had, those sensations that I had never known existed. The desperate plunge through space I'd felt when we first kissed. The ache in my chest when his lips pulled away, then left the room, too frightened at what had just happened to stay another second.

And a short while later he disappeared on us, just like that. And without the money he made instructing at Mad River Glen in Vermont, we'd been even worse off. Who knows, I might have actually been able to go to college if he hadn't moved out. Maybe I could have made something out of my life.

Still, I understood why he wanted to leave. He was too rebellious, too much of a free spirit, and just plain too wild and carefree to stick around. But I insisted on holding on to my resentment.

Maybe because it helped me deny how much I still loved him.

Just then I heard a light knock on the bathroom door.

"Mia?"

"Yeah, come in." My heart started to beat with excitement. Even if Ellis didn't really excite me, I liked the way he adored my body.

And I knew that the second he saw my naked body in the tub, he would lose his mind.

And it would lead to sex.

I heard the door swing open, and Ellis walked across the marble floor in his slippers and bathrobe. I could see how his eyes helplessly, lustfully ran over my body.

"Hey honey," I said, my eyes flicking up to meet his. My voice was suddenly lower, more sultry. "Do you like looking at me?"

"You know I do," he whispered.

I took a deep breath. My whole body suddenly felt hot, and my heart began to race. "Do you want to put your cock in my mouth?"

Without saying a word he began to undress. He pulled off his tailored shirt, letting it fall to the marble floor. My eyes licked over his muscled torso, and I felt animalistic cravings begin to pulse inside my body.

He continued staring directly into my eyes as he undid his belt buckle, dropping his pants to the floor a second later. I saw the thick bulge in his boxers, and I let out a little moan in anticipation of his cock in my mouth.

He stood beside the tub, and I kneeled in the water as I pulled out his thick rod and began stroking it sensually. I could feel my sex throb a little as I closed my eyes and pressed the head of his cock against my mouth, running my lips sideways and smearing his lust over me.

Sometimes I felt like a whore, fucking Ellis for his money.

Then I wrapped my little lips around his head and began to suck him, taking him deep, all the way until he bumped against the back of my throat. I liked doing it.

I used my tongue to pleasure the underside of his shaft, running it all the way up to the base of the head and around the sensitive glands. I pressed the tip of my tongue hard against it, and I opened my eyes so I could watch his reactions and better gauge how good of a job I was doing pleasuring him.

"Do you like that?" I whimpered; of course, I knew he did—guys are so easy.  Ellis nodded his head weakly, a second before I plunged him into my throat again. He buried a hand in my hair and guided my head over his throbbing sex. I submitted, letting him use me. It was sick, but I didn’t mind being his sex toy.

"Let me fuck you, baby," he gasped. His voice was so choked with desire that it sent an involuntary shiver running down my chest

But I shook my head ‘no.’

"Please," he begged. I sucked him harder and harder, using a hand to stroke the base of his cock. I wanted him to cum right now.

"Please, baby," Ellis sobbed, “Let me go inside.”

I almost said no again. As much as I liked being fucked, I always hated the moment Ellis put his cock inside me. Maybe it was because I didn't love him.

Then he pulled me out of the tub, pressed me onto the cold marble of the bathroom floor, and forced his cock inside me.

I submitted, too horny to fight him off, my whole body tensing as his raging dick pushed my petals apart and slammed deep inside.

Ellis fucked me with reckless abandon, gripping my buttocks and pressing my body painfully against the hard tile as he used me. I gave in to the pleasure, letting him satisfy himself, and a second later, I felt his cum blast into me.

"That was too soon," I whined, trying to catch my breath after the pounding I had just taken. I was raw and throbbing, desperate for the hot release of my own orgasm.

"Get out," I ordered. My voice took on a vicious turn. Ellis did as he was told, backing out of the room and picking his clothes up on the way.

I remained on the hard tile and rubbed myself until I came, all the while dreaming that it was Jackson touching me.

****

Another sleepless night. Why the hell had Ellis ever brought up Jackson's existence?

"Babe, are you okay?" Ellis asked me. I'd been tossing and turning for hours.

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm going to get a snack." I rolled out of bed and stood up. "Do you want anything?"

"No."

"You sure?"

He didn't answer.

I walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, but nothing looked good. I finally settled on a chunk of organic banana loaf and a glass of milk.

I sat alone at the expansive oak table and ate. But it wasn’t satisfying in the least, so I got up and threw the food away and put the dishes in the sink. Being rich was miserable, I decided. Even worse than being poor.

I walked back to the bedroom and got under the hot, uncomfortable sheets.

"Did you ever call your stepbrother?" Ellis asked. I felt dread consume my body. It was the last question I wanted to hear.

"I don't know how to find him," I said quietly.

"Is that it?" Ellis asked lightly. "That's what's been bothering you? I can ask the head of ski instruction tomorrow. He's another Yale alum."

Was it really that simple?

"Thanks," I said. But I still couldn't sleep.

****

We skied a little the next day. I liked skiing, but I always felt bad because Ellis was so much faster than I was, and he had to wait for me all the time. Of course, he always did so without complaining.

At one point I came up next to him, totally exhausted, and asked hopefully, "Last run?"

"Okay," Ellis agreed, sounding disappointed.