“We can’t, Beyah.” His eyes are back on mine when he says that, but then they flicker away and fixate on something else. “I’m not going to the Air Force. I was never going to the Air Force.”
His words and the expression on his face make my heart feel like it’s already starting to fracture. I want to ask him what he means but I’m too scared to know the truth, so the question never forms.
Samson sighs heavily and leans toward me. His grip on my arm tightens as he presses his lips to my shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel his breath against my skin. I want so much from him right now. I want his honesty, but I also want his silence and his touch and his kiss. Something tells me I can’t have all of it. It’s either this moment or the truth.
He tucks his face in the crook of my neck. “Please don’t ask me what I mean by that, because if you do, I’ll be honest with you. I can’t lie to you anymore. But I want this night with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
His words roll over me like a wave, crashing against me with so much force, I wince. I run my hand through his hair and tilt my face until we’re looking at each other. “Will you be honest with me when we wake up tomorrow?”
Samson nods. He doesn’t even say yes out loud, but I believe him.
I believe him because he looks like he’s scared he might lose me. And he might. But he has me tonight and that’s all I really care about.
I kiss him to let him know the truth can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I just want to feel what I’ve always deserved to feel during sex—like my body is respected, and my touch has more than just a monetary value.
Samson pulls away long enough to grab a condom out of the bedside table drawer. He puts it on beneath the covers and then rolls back on top of me. He’s patient as he kisses me, waiting for just the right moment to push himself inside of me.
When it finally happens, he’s staring down at me, watching the expression on my face. I gasp, holding in all my breaths until we’re as connected as we can possibly be. He sighs shakily. Then, as he begins to pull out of me as slowly as he entered me, he rests his mouth against mine.
I moan when he pushes into me again, amazed at how new Samson makes this feel for me. There isn’t even a piece of me that doesn’t want to be here right now, and that makes all the difference in the world.
Samson rests his head against mine. “Does this feel okay?”
I shake my head. “It’s so much better than okay.”
I feel his laugh against my neck. “I agree.” His voice sounds strained, like he might be holding back because he’s scared I’ll break.
I press my mouth to his ear, dragging my fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to be careful with me.” I wrap my legs around him and kiss his neck until his skin breaks out in chills against my tongue.
My words make him groan, and then it’s like he suddenly comes to life. His mouth finds mine and he kisses me like he’s hungry and touches me like his hands are starving.
It somehow gets better with every passing minute. We find a rhythm with our bodies, a tempo with our kiss, and a cadence in our collective moans. It becomes everything I’ve never experienced during sex.
It becomes love.
Whatever tomorrow brings with his truth, I already know it won’t change what I feel for him, even though he’s convinced it will. I’m not sure he knows how much he means to me. Knowing I’m finally going to learn the full truth about him doesn’t feel threatening.
Samson makes me wonder if there’s a difference between a liar and a person who tells lies to protect someone from the truth.
Samson doesn’t feel like a liar to me. He feels protective, not dishonest.
And in this moment, Samson is being more honest than he’s ever been, and he’s not uttering a single word.
I’ve never felt more appreciated than I feel right now. Not only appreciated, but savored. Respected. Wanted.
Maybe even loved.
TWENTY-THREE
“I’m so sorry.”
Samson’s words feel like concrete moving through me. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, but his voice sounded more regretful than any sound I’ve ever heard.
Was it a dream?
A nightmare?
I reach to his pillow and open my eyes, but find nothing. I fell asleep wrapped around him, but now he’s gone and my arms are empty. When I roll over and look toward his bedroom door, I see him. His hands are behind his back. There’s a police officer gripping his arm, shoving him out of the bedroom.