Page 49 of Samuel's Heart

I make the most of it, like I do of having Samuel close. Not sure if it’s because I’m new in the group, or because he’s afraid of me telling everyone what he’s doing. I don’t even consider him wanting to be near me for more personal reasons. I’m just happy to have him close. I like how he jumps in and out of conversations, always ready to save me if I get too silent, either because I don’t know what to say or because I’m not ready to open up.

As the hours pass and the atmosphere gets more relaxed, my connection with Samuel increases. Small touches, our bodies getting closer and closer on the sofa, and his leg against mine, making me want more and more.

I try to keep my head straight, but his continued presence and scent are driving me crazy. I’d like to let go and do something about whatever there is between us, but there’s always the fear of ruining my chance to find John, and maybe burning a great friendship when all this is done.

When it’s time for everyone to go, I stand as well, but Samuel leans in and my idea about leaving with everyone disappears, even before he talks.

“Don’t leave yet.” His whisper is so close to my ear that his breath caresses my skin, sending shivers up and down my body.

I sit down again and wave at the others.

I watch him saying his goodbyes and witness Martin pulling Samuel into a tight hug, while Keegan watches over him. Ieven hear the conversation, because if there is one thing I’ve learnt today, it’s that Martin can’t do anything quietly. But his personality goes in tandem with the silent man always so close to him.

The same happens between Jason and Samuel after the others have left. I don’t get to overhear what they’re talking about, and they don’t even glance at me. I’m surprised when Samuel pulls him into a hug and keeps him close for a bit. Jason never complains.

I watch their faces when they pull apart, but there’s nothing strange. It’s probably just my imagination playing with me.

They exchange a couple more words before Jason waves in my direction, and he’s gone.

The click when Samuel closes the door is loud in the now-empty room, making me aware even more that we’re alone. And the questions I pushed away all evening fill my mind.

What am I doing here? Why am I feeling like this about him? Should I follow what my mind is telling me? Or should I follow what my body feels when I’m next to him? Is he feeling the same as me?

I don’t even hear Samuel coming back to sit next to me on the sofa until his finger gets under my chin to raise my head, and I’m looking him straight in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks, while his fingers caress my jaw.

“Yeah.” But I don’t move a muscle because I don’t want him to stop.

“I’m sorry about them invading my place.” He continues speaking, caressing me.

Without thinking, I move closer, and he does the same.

“It’s okay. They’re nice people.” But I’m not really thinking about them anymore. My eyes are moving from his eyes to his lips, which seem to be slowly getting closer and closer.

I hold my breath, both fearing and welcoming his touch and his kiss, but when our lips lock, the sensations are beyond whatever I was expecting, and so overwhelming that a loud moan escapes.

He moans a reply to mine, and it makes us even more frantic. I open under his insistent lips and when our tongues touch in a dance of passion, whatever is left of my brain flies out the window, and what remains is only the need to know more about him.

When I find myself with my back flat on the sofa, I don’t fight it, instead I welcome his weight and his tantalising touch.

My brain focuses on a loop of wanting more and more.

The reasons we shouldn’t be doing this are gone from my brain.

Chapter Seventeen

Samuel

Oh, God. Why does he taste so good?

No one should be allowed to taste as good as Rory, and it has me losing my mind with want for him. I want him under me, riding me, and then coming all over me.

Fuck! That thought nearly has me coming in my boxers, but that’s not what I want. Not now that I have him under me, moaning like we’re sinning.

I want to sin so much more, and in so many ways, that I can never be redeemed again.

I lean away from him, and in doing so, my lips leave his, and a bit of oxygen and blood return to my brain. It’s not enough towalk away, but enough to watch him and admire how beautiful he is when he’s aroused. I can’t wait to see what he looks like in the throes of passion.

---