by Jessica Park
“Do you feel his heat? His need?” Costa says, his mouth next to my ear. “He’s so hard, isn’t he? Sam wants you so much that it’d kill him if that were possible.”
All I can do is whimper in response. I can’t think. I can’t stop this.
I don’t want to stop this.
I pull the back of Sam’s drenched shirt from his pants, slide my hands under the hem, and move with his hips. I want him closer. He’s so close against me that I can’t get my hands between us. I push against him, but he’s too strong, and he stays bonded to my body. However, Costa gets Sam to pull back, and all I feel is gratitude when Costa moves his hands from my waist to Sam’s, easing him away just enough that I can get my hands to Sam’s front button and zipper. He practically growls as he pounds the wall again with his hand. I hear plaster crack.
“Easy, Sam,” Costa says soothingly.
Sam takes his mouth from my skin and looks at me. He’s so drugged on death tripping, even I can see that, and I want everything he’s feeling right now. I want him to pass it to me. I lower his pants just enough and wrap my hand around his cock. Sam groans and braces his hands more firmly against the wall. I can tell that he can barely focus, and it just makes me need him more. The way he’s so intent on being inside me, on his need for me…I keep moving my hand up and down over him until he’s wet and harder than ever.
“Go on. Take what you want, Stella.” Costa lifts my skirt on both sides and then firmly wraps one hand around my waist.
I press on Sam’s shoulders and groan as he shoves down my underwear. They drop to the floor, and I spread my legs apart a bit. Costa puts a hand under my ass and raises me just enough. It’s all I can do not to scream when Sam brushes the tip of his cock against me. When he pushes inside, the feeling is almost too much.
The arm Costa has over my waist moves up to rub over my ribs as it lifts me higher and then comes to a rest just beneath my breasts. “Breathe, Stella.”
He’s right. I need to breathe, so I make myself inhale and exhale.
Sam pulls out and then roughly slides back into me. I drop my head back onto Costa’s shoulder and close my eyes while Sam holds still inside me. I’m drowning, but it’s a different sensation than what I’m used to, and it’s magnificent. I feel completely consumed by Sam. He pulls out and slams into me. It’s aggressive—and he’s strong—but it’s not too much. It’s just what I want. Then, he starts to settle on a hard rhythm, taking me to a place where I’m almost as high as he must be, totally lost in this heat and primal lust.
I hear Costa’s voice again, and then I look in time to see him pushing Sam’s hair away from his face. He lingers, tucking a lock behind an ear, before running a thumb over Sam’s jawline.
“Sam’s so fucking good, isn’t he?” Costa’s husky voice echoes through me.
“Yes,” I manage. I turn so that my mouth is against Costa’s neck.
“Watch Sam. You want to see him fucking you.”
So, I do what Costa says. It’s hard to focus through this haze, but I watch how Sam moves, how his arm and chest muscles are taut each time he enters me, how his intensity is unparalleled to how he’s been with me before, how he drips ocean water on me every time he thrusts. He’s always amazing—perfect really—but this could be addictive. Yet even this is not enough. I’m hungry to go further.
“You went way under this time, didn’t you, Sam? I can see it,” Costa says.
Sam says nothing and doesn’t stop moving inside me.
“More,” I murmur. “More, Sam.”
“Sam can’t hear you now. He’s too driven, too consumed with you.”
I feel Costa smile against my cheek.
“He’s surging hard.”
I squirm between them and push my hands into Sam’s shoulder, wanting my hips higher so that Sam can go deeper. “More.” I’m begging now.
“Sam…Sam, listen to her. She wants more.” Costa’s voice is deep, directing, and cuts through Sam’s haze.
Sam puts both hands firmly under my ass and gets me higher so that he can go deeper. My back is flat against Costa’s chest, but my ass is right over his pants, so I know how turned on he is, too. But I don’t care. This is not about his pleasure. It’s about Sam’s and mine. When Sam is fully inside me, he slows his rhythm and kisses me again. This time, it’s more controlled, more teasing—exactly how he’s fucking me now.
“The surge is raw,” Costa says smoothly into my ear. “It’s basic instinct. It’s overpowering. And it’s how much he loves you.”
Sam’s tongue is hot against mine, and he tastes more like himself but more extraordinary than ever. I tighten my stomach and move against him, increasing the tension and my need. I’m starting to breathe too hard, and I have to take my mouth from his. I know that he wants to keep kissing me, but I’m too heated, and I need air.
But Costa doesn’t. So, while I rest my head against him, Costa leans forward just a bit, just enough to direct Sam’s attention to his mouth. I take a hand from Sam’s shoulder and touch it to his face while I watch them. Costa is gentle in the way he kisses Sam, sensual and slow, giving him just enough to take the edge off. My fingers go to the kiss, and I ache to run my tongue over their lips. I want to feel them, taste their connection. I’m not threatened at all. It’s just different than what Sam and I have. And it’s wildly erotic.
I move Costa into Sam a bit more and catch my breath when I see him slip his tongue over Sam’s lips. I’m starting to get lost in their kiss, but Sam moves away and looks at me. He half-smiles and thrusts into me, hard. Then, he kisses Costa again, harder this time—full tongue, no holding back.
I smile to myself. Sam’s doing this for my benefit, and it’s working.
I’m so close. I just need a little more. “Put your hand on me.” It’s so hard to talk.
And Sam’s so lost in me again.
“Sam, please…”
From the corner of my vision, I see Costa end the kiss.
“The surge is still too high. I think he can only hear another death tripper.” Then, Costa moves his fingers between my legs. He finds just the right spot and rubs against me.
It only takes moments until the build is inevitable, and I’m clenching my body as my arousal climbs. Sam watches, taking me in. His eyes are sharper, steadier. Costa takes his hand away now, and I think Sam is starting to see more clearly.
I know I’m right when he tells me, “I’m with you.” Those words send me over the edge and into an orgasm that leaves me shaking, trembling, and dripping in sweat.
Sam smiles again. “Told you I’d come back to you.”
“Now, come for me.”
Sam moves with a smoothness and pace that rings less of pure lust and more of pure emotion. Even when he’s on the brink, when his sounds tell me that he’s seconds away from coming, the tenderness and care in his pacing overwhelm me. He softly kisses me and then holds his mouth just near mine when he needs to let out a groan. When he comes, he shudders, his release reverberating through me and into Costa.
Costa releases his grip on me. He kisses his fingers and touches them first to my lips and then to Sam’s. “And that, my friends,” Costa says with no hidden satisfaction, “is what we call the surge.”
Sam laughs lightly, and he’s still breathing hard when Costa slips out from behind me.
Costa walks backward and winks at me. “Welcome to death tripping.”
The front door shuts, and I lean back against the wall to look at Sam. “A simple muffin basket wasn’t going to do it, huh?”
“Go big, or go home, I guess.” He strokes a finger over my shoulder and trails it down my chest. “You okay?”
I think for a minute and nod. “I don’t like muffins anyway.”
WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT NIGHT, not until days later when we are on the beach in the late afternoon.
Sam’s parents put together an early picnic dinner for all of us, and I’m absolutely stuffed after three lobster rolls. They have to get back to the in
n for the dinner rush, but they’ve made sure that we’ll all meet up once a week even during this busy season.
April is stretched out on a rock reef that juts into the ocean, watching the tide roll out, and Kelly and Costa are stomping through wet sand, looking for clams. I raise a hand to my eyes to block the sun and look out at the scene before me, complete with people who are in my life, whom I care about and who care about me. I’m so peaceful today, so entirely relaxed.
Sam sits, propped up against a boulder, and I lie on my side with my head in his lap, enjoying the feel of his fingers as they run through my hair. Whenever we’re together, we are inevitably touching. It seems impossible for us to break our physical connection.
Even when he got sick the day after his surge, I sat on the floor of the bathroom, holding a wet washcloth on the back of his neck. Costa had been smart to make that lasagna. Sam ate half and then immediately puked it up, but he went right back and polished off the rest. Then, he slept for twelve hours.
Costa came back that afternoon. He explained that death tripping could give a bit of a hangover sometimes, so he stayed and watched over Sam while I did some online work. He said that Sam wasn’t in bad shape, likely because it was only his second trip in a relatively short time. I could certainly vouch that Sam was perfectly fine when he woke up because we took a forty-five minute shower together, and I never got around to washing my hair.
“Stella, about that night,” Sam starts.
I breathe in the salt air and roll onto my back so that I can look at him. I’m surprised he’s bringing this up. “What about it?”
“Do you understand now why I had to stay away from you after that first trip during the storm?”
“I think so.”
“I was damned if I came back too early and damned if I came back too late. But I had to protect you. You see how it can get to be a little…much?”
“You didn’t hear me complain, did you?”
He smiles down at me. “No.”
“Is it always like that?”
“The surge? No, not always. And that was the strongest I’ve had. The thing with all of this is that nothing is really consistent. I know that sounds crazy. But dying, going under, surfacing, surging…they’re never the same. I think mood affects each stage—who I’m with or not with, how long it takes to die, how often I’ve been death-tripping.” He shakes his head. “Not much is clear.”
“That last surge was pretty clear.” I run a hand over his tanned bare chest. As much as I love these family gatherings, I can’t wait to get home. And all this talk of Sam’s intensity isn’t helping my patience.
Sam clears his throat. “That surge was pretty out of hand. Are you all right…with what happened?”
I sit up next to him and pull my legs in. Sam wraps an arm around me, and I softly kiss him.
“Yes. Are you all right with what happened?”
“Yes.” He kisses me back. “Just so you know, that was the first time it was like that.”
“You and Costa don’t go around surging and seducing love-struck women on a regular basis?”
He laughs. “We do not.”
Sam looks out at the water when Costa starts whooping and yelling. “Oh God, what is he doing?”
Costa is in the middle of a ridiculous dance that involves lots of knee lifts and finger-pointing toward the sand. Then, he jumps up and down several times. “Kelly! Hurry! Clam! Get it before it eats me!”
Kelly shakes her head, but I can see her amusement from here. She heads his way, carrying a long bar with a claw on the end that she’s been using to dig in the sand, and Costa swings his bucket with exaggeration as though he’s a little kid.
Sam touches his head to mine. “He looks so happy, doesn’t he?”
“He really does.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this.”
“You’re glad Costa’s back. I can tell.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“You two have been hanging out a lot this week. I think that’s good—for both of you.”
“It’s good he’s working at the inn. Everyone missed him. He and Kelly have always gotten along really well. And of course, my parents worship him. He’s around family again.”
“You know…Costa’s crazy about you,” I start.
Sam looks at me. “I know.”
He also knows where I’m going with this, but it has to be asked.
“Is he in love with you?”
“Nah, not really.” He looks back to the water. “Maybe. I don’t know. We have a complicated history, an emotional one. Both of us have hero-worshiped the other at certain points. And both of us have despised the other, too. I think Costa’s a little bit in love with the idea of you and me. He’s got some sort of infatuation with us being together. Maybe it’s what he wants for himself. And about that night?” He digs his feet into the hot sand until he hits cool mud. “Costa loves women, I know that, but his sexuality is probably a little more fluid than most. He’ll go where there’s fire. And do not underestimate the tequila factor. I saw how much you two went through while I was gone.”
I rub my feet next to his. “Waiting for you might have required some liquid courage, yes.”
“There’s another piece you should know about. He told me that you know about him losing his powers after he tripped me?”
I nod.
“Well, because of that, he’s become a bit of a thrill seeker. It’s a way to compensate, I guess. He used to hit up a racetrack a few hours from here a lot. Fast cars, danger, speed. He loves it. He also likes more elaborate death stunts than I do. The more blood and gore, the better. Diving from buildings, crashing stolen cars. Knives and guns, as you know. Costa’s done it all. The thrill seeking probably explains why he killed me in front of you—twice—and probably why he didn’t leave the minute when I came back surging the way I did. He knew where that would lead. I’m id-driven when I’m surging. Costa’s id-driven all the time.” Sam is quiet for a minute. “Do you hate Costa for what he’s done?”
“No,” I say, “of course not. He’s a little fucked up, but he’s lost so much. I get it. I like a lot about him, and anyone who cares about you the way he does—with his sincerity and his loyalty—is worth way more than any wrongs he’s done.”
“Good. I don’t want you to hate him, but I’d understand if you did.”
“We make allowances for people who matter. But I don’t understand how he can trip after Toby. He still loves it.”
“I know that it doesn’t seem to make sense, but it’s wired into us. It’s who we are and what our bodies ask for. We’re drawn to tripping because of something that changed in us. It’s like our body chemistry makes the need intrinsic.” He pauses. “We can’t really fight it.”
“You did.”
“And it probably made me worse off, but I’ll always fight it.”
We listen to the ocean and the sound of seagulls flying overhead.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m good.” I tousle his hair. “I found my good, remember?”
He puts both arms around me now and exhales with relief. “I’ve been so fucking terrified that I hurt you during that surge, that I scared you, or that I made you feel like I could have been that way with just anyone…or that you were at all uncomfortable with it.”
“What? Sam, Jesus. Why didn’t you say something to me earlier? I assumed we hadn’t talked about this because it was awkward, not because either one of us was worried.” I rise up on my knees, kneeling next to him, and put both hands on his chest. “I thought you knew that I was fine, that we were fine. We are amazing, you and me. Sam, look at me, and listen very closely. The truth is, I loved that night, and I loved how you felt. I loved everything that happened, how it happened. Sam Bishop,” I say with my most flirtatious smile, “you rocked my motherfuckin’ world. If that wasn’t obvious, if you couldn’t tell how much I wanted you…Sam, really. You know me better than anyone—in bed and out. You know
I loved every second.”
With uncharacteristic shyness, he asks, “Really? It wasn’t too much?”
“Apparently, I’m as fucked up as you death trippers because I don’t regret anything.”
He’s still not convinced. “Even that we weren’t alone?”
“Even that. Maybe I’m supposed to be embarrassed, but it just happened the way it did. I wasn’t freaked about it at the time, so I’m not going to be freaked about it now. The truth is that Costa…” I struggle to figure out how to say this. “He translated for us. He…facilitated it.”
“Yes, he brought us closer,” Sam says definitively. “I can’t deny that.” He smooths out the towel underneath us. “Costa likes you a lot, you know?”
I smile and raise an eyebrow.
He laughs. “No, not just because of that night. Despite what happened, he doesn’t look at you as more than a friend. He’ll always be edgy and nuts because he’s Costa, but he likes you for you. Because of your strength, your compassion…because of how you love me.”
“Did you two talk about what happened?”
“Nope,” he says. “And we probably won’t. He and I are totally fine. Just another weird thing that happened between us. Add it to the list.” Sam wiggles his toes in the sand and squints into the sun. “Surges and drives. It’s part of what makes up death tripping.”
“You do, however, have some id drives, even when you’re not surging.” My hands follow the lines of his arm muscles and roam over his shoulders. All this talk about his sexual appetite is getting to me.
Sam bites his lip. “You know, we are in public. During daylight. And my family is just down the beach from us.” He takes my wrist in his hand. “And I’m wearing swim trunks that are not going to hide anything.”