I wrap my hand firmly around him and his head falls back with a sigh. “Beyah,” he whispers.
I kiss his neck and slowly begin to move my hand up and down the length of him. There’s more to him than there was to Dakota. It doesn’t surprise me. There’s more to Samson in almost every aspect compared to anyone else I know.
I use my left hand to lower his shorts enough so that he’s not confined inside them. We stand in this position for a couple of minutes, at least. Me touching him. Samson breathing heavier and deeper, gripping my hips tighter with every stroke. I watch his face the whole time, unable to look away. Sometimes he looks at me and other times he squeezes his eyes shut like it’s all too much.
When he begins to clench all the muscles in his body, he suddenly brings a hand up to my hair and pulls gently, tilting my head back so that his mouth can fit against mine. He takes two quick steps, pushing me against the opposite shower wall while he kisses me with more strength than every other kiss that came before this one.
My hand is still gripping him, and it’s like he can’t even breathe and kiss me at the same time because he breaks apart and presses the side of his head to the side of mine. His mouth is over my ear when he breathes out a guttural, “Fuck.”
Chills roll down my body as he begins to shudder beneath my touch. I continue to stroke him until I feel the sticky warmth of him on the palm of my hand, and he eventually sighs, burying his face against my neck.
He takes a moment to catch his breath, and then he reaches for the showerhead. He pulls it between us, washing himself and my hand, and then he lets it fall to the floor before kissing me again.
He’s breathing like he just ran a marathon. At this point, I might be breathing like that, too.
When he finally pulls away and looks down at me, some of the weight has lifted from behind his eyes. That’s all I wanted. For him to feel better about whatever happened to him out there tonight.
I kiss him tenderly on the corner of his mouth, preparing to say good night, but he runs his fingers through my wet hair and whispers, “When are you going to let me hold you?”
His eyes are pleading, like he needs a hug more than he needed what I just gave him.
I’d probably let him hug me right now if I wasn’t so afraid it would make me cry. It’s like he can see the war in my eyes, so he just nods and kisses the side of my head.
“Good night,” I whisper.
“Good night, Beyah.” He turns off the shower and I grab my shirt, pull it back on and walk away from his house.
NINETEEN
All five of Samson’s houses were rented for the July 4th weekend, so he’s staying with Marcos.
It’s been a week since he found Rake. We haven’t talked about it. There’s less than a month left until August second, and I’ll get all my answers then. I’m not looking forward to it. August second to me just means the eve of the day we’ll be saying goodbye to each other.
I’m just trying to focus on today.
And today, the beaches are so crazy, we don’t even want to be out there. We’re on Marcos’s balcony. It’s a few rows back from the beach, which is why we’re here. There is so much music and noise and more drunk people than you could find in any bar in Texas, so none of us have the urge to hang out closer to those crowds.
We ate dinner with Marcos’s family tonight. He’s got two little sisters and there was so much activity and conversation and food. Samson looked like he was right at home with Marcos’s family, and it made me wonder what he’s like when he’s around his own family.
Do they have family meals together like my father and Alana like to do? Would they accept me if they ever met me? Something tells me they wouldn’t or he wouldn’t be so secretive about them.
I felt accepted tonight, though. Accepted and well fed. My goal to gain weight this summer has been crushed. I’m not sure I can even fit into the one pair of jeans I bought when I got here. I’ve worn mostly shorts and my bathing suit this whole summer.
The sun just set, but the fireworks started before that. They’re picking up now that it’s finally dark, and they’re coming from all over the peninsula.
“The Galveston fireworks will start in a few minutes,” Sara says. “I wish we could see them from here.”
“Marjorie’s roof would have a good view,” Samson says.