by Casey Ford
Every cell in my body wants her closer and almost involuntarily crushes her into me. My body wants her to merge with me, become one and the same. She can’t get close enough. Sam seems to want the same thing, jumps up, and wraps her legs around me. I let her head go and hold her up by her ass. Giving it a little squeeze, I let out a small laugh when she moans loudly.
Our tongues battle in our mouths as she plays with my hair, sending small jolts of electricity down my spine with each rub, scratch, and twirl. The cool night starts to grow hot. Disconnecting from Sam’s lips is one of the hardest things I’ve done and I can tell it’s not easy for her either. Sam looks me in the eyes and I can see her desire and need clouding them over. She chews on her bottom lip then jumps slightly when she feels my appreciation for the sight between her legs.
“Is that a cell phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she jokes and we both giggle at it. Joking does nothing to the passion and I still see her appetite burning in her eyes, I should be scared that she’s looking at me like I’m lunch, but it only fuels my already out of control craving. Things heat up even more as Sam untangles herself from me — making extra sure to rub certain sensitive parts — and leads me to one of the less decrepit playground toys. Lust courses through my veins, shadowing any rational thought. Sam lies on her back and beckons me to her, I hesitate for less than a second before I crawl on top of her and take her mouth again.
She grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me closer to her, roughly rubbing her lower half against mine. Feeling and knowing how hungry she is sends more waves of rationale killing lust throughout my body. I can’t get enough of her as our hands explore each other without restraint. Finding the bottom of her shirt, I glide my hand underneath and trace a path up to her breasts. She arches her back, both in pleasure and to provide more access to her chest. She gently bites my bottom lip as she silently moans.
Things rapidly get out of control when Sam quickly grabs the bottom of my shirt and yanks it off — with little help from me. I catch her hands as they start fumbling with my belt buckle.
“Sam,” I have to catch my breath, “what are you doing?” She looks at me with both desire and confusion
“Just for tonight, I want to feel you close to me,” she says with a small, sad smile playing on her lips, “I want you, please, just for tonight. We can go back to being friends in the morning, but please, tonight only.” I hate hearing her beg, but I know this is as much about James as it is about us. Releasing her hands, I grab her face and look her in the eyes.
In truth, I want to feel her close to me as much as she wants it. In fact, I think she’s the only one who can help me forget James and everything that happened tonight.
Even if only for a little while, I want to feel something other than sadness.
“Sam,” I start with all the affection and love I can, “you have me for the rest of your life if you want me.” Sam’s smile grows brilliantly and then falters.
“But, what about Kate?” she asks. Kate. I almost forgot about her.
“I’ll talk to her and set everything straight tomorrow,” I tell her kissing the tip of her nose softly, “but right now I want you next to me.” Sam smiles playfully.
“That’s my line,” she says, then kisses me on the mouth with a selfish hunger.
Her hands hover for a second and then her eyes glow with mischievous longing and she starts to undo my buckle. I don’t stop her, I can’t. I want this as much she does. Once the buckle is undone and my pants are open, she slides her hand inside and around me. I start thinking of baseball, soccer, Aunt Mildew naked, anything to keep from exploding into her hand as she gently strokes up and down. My eyes roll into the back of my head and hear her giggle slightly at my reaction.
“You like that?” she asks, tone dripping of seduction. I nod.
“Good,” she taunts with a smile and a squeeze.
Two can play at that game!
I slide my hand down her stomach and, not even bothering to unbutton them, into her pants. I start with her sides and gently massage her core. She flinches at the feeling and grips me tighter, sending me further into my need for her. I can’t hold on much longer and I impatiently attack her sensitive spot with a ruthless abandon. Convulsing violently, she bites my shoulder to keep from screaming, but she only manages to stifle it instead. I remove myself from her and stand at her legs. Sam sits up and attempts to remove my pants. I’m left here standing in all my splendor and she shimmies out of her pants.
Lust is so thick in my blood that nothing is making sense except that I have to have her. Something rings in my mind that being with Sam like this is exactly what I need and want. She’ll complete me in a way no one else can. Sam finishes with her pants and works her shirt over her head and her naked body sends mine into a craze.
“Are you sure?” I ask in my one moment of clarity. I have to be sure this is what she wants. It’s not exactly the ideal place to be losing your virginity. Then again, it’s most likely better than the back of a car.
She nods vigorously tried to grab my chest in order to pull me to her.
“Now,” she demands. Who am I to deny such a request?
I plunge myself into her and her painful scream fills the night. Working slowly at first in order to get her used to the pain, the world starts to go white. The pleasure of being connected to her is overwhelming. It’s rapture. Nothing compares to it.
Sam starts to moan with every thrust and my own control starts to slip. It won’t be long before my indulgence will end. Suddenly, panic hits me as rational thought invades my lust-filled haze. I’m raw, no condom. Oh shit! I quickly pull out and stop everything. I catch it just in time.
Sam collapses onto her back breathing heavily and completely content. I can’t get the stupid grin off my face looking at her. Climbing up next to her, I pull her into my arms, cuddling her as I gently stroke her hair. I can’t feel anything but satisfaction, not the physical kind either. There’s no more empty loneliness, just filled contentment. It’s a new feeling for me and holding Sam in my arms only increases the emotion.
My heart skips a beat when I see Sam with such a happy smirk. Her eyes are closed and she seems to be just enjoying us. My heart once again goes to her and she owns it completely. It beats when she tells it to, stops when she leaves. It breaks at her word and her touch repairs it. Her warmth sustains me and her smile gives me wings. Sam has me, body and soul.
She has always held my heart, now she owns it.
Forever.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
4 Years Ago (Age 16): November
Despite still riding the high of last night, this is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. Last night with Sam was incredible. I was able to get my mind off my brother’s death — I’ve come to accept it for the most part — and I’ve never felt this complete. I’m still on my cloud when I call Kate to my house. I’m not looking forward to this conversation. I told Sam to go home for now and that I would call her later with an update.
The doorbell rings and it’s the moment of truth.
Katelyn stands at the door with a big uncertain smile on her face. She isn’t sure how to be around me right now. I feel even worse now since I’m not feeling the depression I was feeling last night. Sam filled that emptiness. Now I have to tell her about it.
“Hey, Kate,” I greet her, “come on in.” Kate’s smile falters as she steps into the house and takes in my attitude. I guide her to the couch and we sit down across from each other. Kate definitely looks good today with her long-sleeve sweater that falls off the shoulder and her capri jeans. My nervousness doubles and I suddenly don’t want to say what I have to say, not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t want to see her reaction.
I picture cop cars and multiple stab wounds in my future.
“Alan, what is it?” she asks me with concern. I take a deep breath and gather all the courage I can — which isn’t a lot. Looking up, I start to lose my nerve again when I se
e her eyes. They have a heavy dose of sympathy and consideration. They’re breaking my resolve, but I have to do this. Even if I wanted to stay with Kate — I don’t — what I did with Sam last night is something I can’t keep to myself.
The guilt, if anything, would drive me insane.
“Kate,” I start softly, already a lump forms in my throat, “we need a break.”
Kate’s face twist slightly, but doesn’t reveal her emotions. I study her quietly and wait to see how she reacts — preparing to dodge if need be.
“What do you mean?” She asks quietly.
“I mean we need to break up,” I respond. Her face breaks into devastation, then understanding, and finally anger.
“This is about Samantha, isn’t it?” she yells at me. I recoil slightly though.
“In a way, but not entirely,” I answer her, “there’s been a problem for a while now.” She looks bewildered. She had no idea there was anything wrong. Either I’m a very good actor or she didn’t care enough to notice. Somehow, that makes me angry and sad at the same time.
“Look, Kate, it’s not—”
“You give me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech I swear to god, I will damage something on you,” she interrupts with her hand up. Kate seems lost in thought, eyes unfocused and distracted. She starts mumbling under her breath.
“This has to be an emotional decision because your brother died,” she explains more to herself, “this can’t be what you want.” I’m taken back by this. Am I making a rash decision because James died? Well, if that’s the case, then last night was one hell of a whopper. If it didn’t feel so damn right, I might actually believe that this is a rash decision like she said it is. No, Sam is not a rash decision. I would have chosen her even if James survived.
“Katelyn, stop. This is not an ‘emotional decision’, I haven’t been happy in the relationship for a while now.” I need to get her to understand.
“But this is about Samantha,” she repeats her argument. I shake my head at this.
“It’s not,” I argue, “It’s about me not being content in the relationship. I should have told you sooner, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Kate shakes her head, completely in denial. She’s trying to find a way to fix this and is stubbornly rejecting my excuses.
“I won’t let you make a mistake like this,” she begins, “you just lost your brother.”
“Kate,” I raise my voice, “I slept with Sam last night.”
Katelyn blanches and her mouth drops open.
“THAT WHORE!” She shouts and leaps to her feet. Glaring at me for longer than I feel comfortable, she quickly grabs her stuff and looks me right in the eye. I can see the hurt and anger as she studies my face.
“I have some words for her when I see her next,” she tells me, “she won’t get away with this. Taking advantage of you like that.” She starts mumbling about wringing her neck and other bodily harm on Sam. She seems to have completely forgot that it takes two to horizontal tango. We were both there and complicit in the act.
“Kate,” I say to gain her attention, “it wasn’t like that.” She stops and looks at me, silently urging me to explain.
“We both knew James, I obviously knew him better, but we both grew up with him there. We needed comfort and support,” I finish.
“So you talk, you hug, you cry,” she sneers, “get a freaking puppy. You don’t sleep with your best friend.” Sighing, I drop my eyes in shame.
“It wasn’t just about comfort, Kate,” I tell her with a hint of regret and shame.
Kate remains deathly silent for several minutes. Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath before stepping close to me. She bites her bottom lip — a move I used to find sexy — in order to stop it from quivering, her eyes look sad. She quickly shakes off her sadness and replaces it with anger.
The venom in her stare is undeniable and justified.
“I hope you live a long life, Alan,” she spits at me, “I want you to remember this day forever.” She steps closer to me to make sure she’s heard and understood.
“Every time you look at Sam, I want you to remember the person you stepped on to get her,” she admonishes.
“Kate, ple—” I am interrupted by Kate striking me across the face. The implications of the slap hurt more than the physical pain. I feel the hand print on my cheek burning in to my skin, marking my soul. I grit my teeth as I let my consciousness soak in her fury and pain.
I’m positive I’ll feel that sting even after I die, whenever that will be.
“Don’t, Alan,” she points at me with a firm finger, voice cracking with emotion.
“Just don’t,” she says softly but sternly. I can hear the resentment and strain oozing from every syllable. I shut my mouth. Burning rage-filled tears swell in her eyes and she angrily wipes them away with her palm. I avoid her hateful glaze just before she walks away
I don’t even watch her leave, I can’t.
She politely closes the door and silently leaves my life.
Present Day
“Regret?” Kate repeats. “I was pretty mad at first, but time went by and it just became what it became. I have no regrets, now.” I nod at her explanation. I have regrets, but never once did I regret breaking up with her. I only regretted the way we broke up, it should have happened differently.
“My only regret is how we ended,” I admit. I shift uncomfortably in my chair and lightly stroke the back of Sam’s hand with my thumb. This has a calming effect on me, easing my nerves.
“I know,” she tells me with a knowing smile, “I always knew that. I think that was one of the reasons I was so angry.” I bring Sam’s hand to my mouth for a soft kiss on the back and Kate sucks in a deep breath.
“Oh my god!” she exclaims, covering her mouth in shock. I look up and then follow her gaze to where Sam is staring at the ceiling. Her eyes are half-open — as if half asleep — but they have no life in them. They’re clouded and withdrawn, unfocused and empty. She’s just staring into space as if locked in thought and no way to get out. It’s so unnerving to see her defunct that it’s enough to make tears come to my eyes.
I release her hand and bring my hand up to her face; she flinches slightly. I try to look into her eyes, but it’s difficult because they seem so barren and cold. It’s like she can see right through me. She doesn’t blink, just stares through me and I start losing myself in her eyes. They have lost some of their chocolate color and now look more like a faded M&M. Her pupils are dilated. The large black pools in the center of her eye trap me and I feel a pull as if something is calling me. I now know why people say the eyes are the doorway to the soul; it feels like she is pulling mine from my body just by looking at her.
“Sam,” I ask softly, “are you in there?” There is no response, not even a flicker. She doesn’t talk, or even make a sound, and the only sign at all that there is life is when she flinches. Even her open eyes aren’t enough to prove that she’s alive; they’re too dead looking. I have to get out of here. Sam is not the same person I remember her being and it’s screwing with my head. This dead slab on the bed is not the same person I know and love.
“I have to call Mary,” I announce trying to find an excuse to leave the room. I use the time it takes to get to the lobby to compose myself. I must not think about how dead she looked.
I must not think about how it’s killing me slowly inside to see her like that.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
4 Years Ago (Age 16): November
Do we really have to do this right now? It’s only been a week for god’s sake. Not to mention, it’s cold and there are way too many people here just to pick up my brother. Sam is hugging my arm for support and comfort while we wait for the plane to finish its taxi on the tarmac. Nate is standing next to me in his dress blues — newsflash, they don’t fit him that well anymore — and my parents are on the other side with Jenny close to them.
Everyone is crying, their tears soaking their face
s. I feel like the odd one: I’m not crying. In fact, it’s like I don’t feel anything at all right now. Occasionally I’ll get a lump in my throat that will choke me up, but those are usually easy to swallow. A sudden hitch in my heartbeat, I’ve gotten good at ignoring them. Then there’s the pesky waterworks that I can hide with a quick swipe of my fingers or blink of the eyes.
Nope, I’m not a total wreck like everyone else is.
A military color guard stands at attention at the base of a tunnel walled by veterans — old men in uniform — and active duty military personnel on leave. It makes his coming home a little like a celebration instead of the somber occasion it should be. I’m not sure how I feel about that. On one hand, I’m happy that he’s getting this kind of greeting. On the other, it shouldn’t feel so festive.
I decide to let it go; he’s dead, what does he care?
The plane stops and full dress Marines carefully get the decorated box out of the cargo hold, every military person salutes — including Nate. Carrying the coffin through the long tunnel of saluting people, they place it into a hearse and we follow to its destination, the funeral home.
The viewing is tomorrow and the funeral itself is the day after.
The viewing isn’t like I thought it would be. We went with the open casket, since he wasn’t shot in the head and neither was he blown up — mostly. His unit was ambushed while on patrol and he managed to provide cover until they were safe. A lucky shot clipped James when he was trying to escape himself – a lucky shot that went through his heart.
People file one-by-one through the line, each trying to get a glimpse of my brother. I haven’t been through yet, but I plan to eventually. Sam sits with me and holds my hand. I appreciate her simple, but comforting, gesture. I want to leave and just enjoy Sam’s company, but I know that people will frown on that. My dad might understand and Nate too, but my mom would give me ‘The Eye’ for weeks if I did. I don’t want that, despite how harmless that look really is.
