NORMAL

by Danielle Pearl

  Sam's hands slide under me, and he gently pulls out of me before rolling onto his back, taking me with him so that I lay on him like a blanket, my face tucked into the nook of his neck. I inhale deeply, loving the scent I've become so familiar with, now mixed with the smell of salt from the ocean and sweat. Sam strokes my back lightly with just the tips of his fingers, and I shiver as chills break out on my skin. His touch has an unfathomable effect on me.

  "You alright, Ror?" he asks softly. I nod against his skin, eyes still closed, still half in another world - one of nothing but pleasure and love that only Sam can elicit in me.

  "Mmmm," is all I can come up with.

  Sam chuckles and kisses my hair. "Well, that makes two of us, baby," he says.

  I sigh contently. "You've never called me that before."

  "Called you what?" he asks. I lift my head just enough to look at him, not wanting to pull my body off of him any more than I have to - not sure if and when I'll have the opportunity to be so close to him again.

  "Baby," I remind him. Sam's brow furrows, as if he hadn't even realized he'd said it, and he'd said it plenty.

  "Hmm, I guess I did call you that. I don't know what you're doing to me, Ror, honestly I've never called a girl by a pet name in my life," he says with a chuckle.

  "I liked it," I admit timidly. Sam grins and his hand is immediately on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss. I sigh again.

  I scoot down and over just a little so that he doesn't have to bear all of my weight, laying half on his chest, our legs intertwined, and he continues running his fingertips up and down my back.

  I could stay like this forever.

  The thought is bittersweet. I remind myself that this is all temporary. Because even if he could return my feelings, it wouldn't be right. What kind of person would I be if I allowed the man I loved to tie himself to such a broken mess?

  All because of Robin.

  I wish with all my heart that I could go back in time. That I could get back what Robin took from me. That Sam could have been my first.

  All this time I had no idea that sex could be like that - so satisfying, both physically and emotionally. I wonder idly if Sam knows how significant this was for me. I hate Robin. I hate him with every fiber of my being.

  "Oh, baby, no," Sam whispers and his knuckles brush away the tear I didn't even know had fallen. "What's wrong?" He's beyond anxious, and I know he probably thinks I'm regretting what we just did.

  I shake my head, I have no further explanation. "I'm fine," I mutter.

  Sam rolls so that we're now side by side, facing one another. He slips an arm under my neck, and the other caresses my face, his thumb brushing away another rogue tear. My leg is still bent between his, and in this position, with our eyes level and barely inches apart, I know I can hide nothing from him.

  "Please tell me what I did," he pleads.

  My eyes widen in horror. He thinks he's done something to cause my tears, and I can't allow him to shoulder guilt when he deserves none of it. But how can I tell a man that I wish he was the one who had taken my virginity? How can I tell him that I want to erase all memories of Robin and replace the memory of my first time with today. Admittedly I don't know much about men, or at least about men other than the monster who broke me, but I'm quite sure that they generally freak out at the thought of the responsibility of taking a girl's virginity, even if only figuratively.

  "Nothin', Sam. I mean it. It's just..." I trail off.

  It's just what? It's just, do you mind if I pretend you were my first? Well, it's not as if he doesn't already know I'm crazy...

  "It's not you, I was just thinkin' about Robin..." Sam blanches, and I realize that didn't come out right. "I mean... I was just thinkin' that this is what my first time should have been like, that's all," I explain as best I can. I can feel Sam's entire body relax beside me.

  "Nothing he did was the way things should have been for you, Ror. I wish you never had to go through any of that," he says intently.

  I nod. Me too.

  "I wish it could've been me," he adds more quietly, "you have no idea how much."

  I blink at him. "Really?"

  Sam nods. "Really."

  My brows pinch together. I am in awe of this man. "I didn't know guys like you existed."

  He laughs. "It's not me, Ror. I told you, you're the one doing this to me. Trust me, normally just the thought of sleeping with a virgin..." he trails off with a dramatic shudder and I giggle. I nearly gasp when my eyes return to his and find them beyond sober. "I wish I could undo what he did."

  "It was kind of a first for me," I say softly, still afraid of freaking him out, but as usual, inexplicably compelled to be honest with him. "I mean, you know, consensually. I've never... I..." I don't know how to explain it without revealing my feelings for him so I just trail off pathetically.

  Sam presses his lips to mine quickly. "I know, baby," he says gently, and then his brow furrows as if he's considering something. "You know, if you want to consider this your first time, I'm okay with that," he says meaningfully, and I blink at him, astonished at his compassion for me and what I went through.

  I kiss him.

  I kiss him hard. His free hand holds my face to his and I can't believe how lucky I am to have him in my life, even if we end up just being friends, even if this "something more" can never really be what I wish it could be.

  I can't believe how this day has unfolded. I awoke in a shroud of humiliation and rejection, and now, I lie here completely naked and blissfully sated, just gazing into the midnight blues that have so greatly changed my life in such a short time. Sam rolls onto his back, pulling me back to his side and I rest my head on his chest.

  I am completely exhausted. I never knew a couple of orgasms could wipe me out like this. Of course, why would I, since apparently I'd never had one before.

  "You sure swear a lot during... you know," I say through a yawn. Sam looks bemused.

  "Do I?" he asks. His lips quirk up into a small smirk, "you know, you can say 'sex', you don't have to be embarrassed, baby. Especially since we're still naked."

  I shove at his chest and let out a laugh.

  "Well, do you want to know what you sound like during sex?" he teases.

  "God, no!" We both laugh and I cover his mouth with my hand, but he nips at it playfully.

  Sam sighs. "You sound - and look - like every fucking fantasy I've ever had," he admits. I doubt that, but it's still nice to hear.

  "Is it always like that?" I ask quietly. I just can't believe that that's what I've been missing out on. I can't believe that that's what everyone experiences. That mind-blowing, life-changing passion. Why would anyone do anything else?

  "No."

  I look up at him, bemused.

  "It's never like that, Ror," he says meaningfully, and though I don't quite know his exact meaning, I allow myself to believe that somehow I am special to him. That even though I know he's done what we just did many times and with many different girls, that this time was special to him.

  I cuddle into his side and his arms tighten around me. I stifle another yawn, I really am beyond exhausted. I simply can't keep my eyes open any longer, and I allow them to rest.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Present Day

  Sam kisses me fiercely, my entire body alight with desire. He hovers above me, touching me everywhere but where I really need him, his hands roving over my tingling skin.

  I love you.

  I think the words, because I know I can't say them aloud. I want him more than anything, but still, he doesn't take me.

  "Please," I beg, wrapping my legs around his waist, trying to pull him down to me, to get him to align our bodies just right.

  "Baby," he groans, and I love the sound more than I should. I lift my hips, but he's still out of reach.

  "Oh, God, please!" I plead desperately.

  Finally, he enters me slowly, and I cry out in triumphant pleasure.

  Our hip
s rock together in perfect rhythm.

  Mustering confidence I never knew I had, I roll so that I sit astride him, kissing him with everything I have. It feels so good this way, I think, as we continue to move together.

  "Oh, God!" I scream.

  "Ror!" Sam pleads.

  "Rory, wake up!"

  My eyes shoot open.

  It was only a dream.

  I'm gasping for breath, completely turned on despite the fact that the events only took place in my subconscious. I'm so disappointed that it was just a dream that it takes me a few moments to remember the events that led up to my being asleep, utterly naked, in Sam's arms.

  Oh, right. The incredible sex. I blush at the memory, and then again at the memory of the dream.

  Well that's new.

  I haven't had anything but night terrors since Robin, and I've never had a sex dream in my life, ever. When my eyes finally find Sam's, I realize he's worried.

  "You okay?" he asks.

  I nod, mortified, even though I know he can't know my thoughts.

  "You were begging again," he murmurs, obviously troubled. It finally registers that he thinks I just had another nightmare.

  "I'm fine," I insist, but he's not placated. Of course he's not - I always insist I'm fine, even when I'm far from it.

  "Another nightmare?" he asks somberly.

  "Um... no, just a, uh, dream," I reply noncommittally. Sam narrows his eyes at me.

  "It didn't sound like just a dream," he accuses, and I know he thinks I'm lying - just trying to brush off a nightmare, and rejecting his empathy. "I thought you said you always have them. That you don't have regular dreams." He's right, I did tell him that.

  I shrug. "I don't. I mean, I haven't. But, I guess I was wrong, because it was just a dream, Sam."

  He furrows his brow and shakes his head. "But you were begging, like before. You said 'please', and 'Oh my God', and..." he trails off.

  I raise my eyebrows, waiting for understanding to dawn on him. I'm now all too aware of our nudity, and of his strong arms around me. I have no idea how long I was asleep, how long ago it was that we made love, but laying here in bed with him, after that dream, I'm having a hard time not climbing on top of him just like in my subconscious fantasy.

  "Rory..."

  "Yes?" My voice has grown breathy again.

  "Was I in this dream by any chance?"

  I bite my lip and look up at him through my lashes. "Maybe."

  Sam's fingers start trailing up and down my side and he moves so he's on top of me. He kisses me ardently and I sigh. This is exactly what I wanted. And I can feel that he is in complete agreement with me. In fact, I can feel it against my thigh. I push my tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss and he reciprocates immediately. His hands become more bold, molding my breasts, as his lips trail down my neck, eliciting a lustful moan.

  "Tell me about this dream," he urges, pulling back just enough to look at me.

  "It's the first good dream I've had in over a year," I whisper.

  Sam smiles wistfully. "I'm glad, Ror."

  I nod. "Me, too."

  "Why do you think that is?" he asks cautiously.

  I laugh. "Well, considering the nature of the dream, I think it may have something to do with you," I tease.

  "Yeah?" he asks hopefully, and I nod. "So why don't you tell me a little more about this dream?" He smirks as his hands renew their exploration of my overheated skin.

  "Hmm..." I pretend to think about it. "Nah." Sam pouts adorably and I smirk right back at him. "I could... show you," I offer instead.

  His eyes brighten as I push at his chest so that he rolls off of me, and begin to play out my dream.

  The real thing is far better.

  ****

  I collapse on top of him and catch my breath, my face buried against his neck. I'd never been in charge before, and though I was a little uncertain at first, Sam guided me, and, God, he certainly knows what he's doing.

  "I think I have a new favorite pastime," Sam drawls as he catches his breath.

  I giggle. "I'm pretty sure sex is every guy's favorite pastime."

  Sam lets out a short chuckle. "Not just sex, baby, though I'm not gonna lie, I've always been a fan," he says with a smirk, "It's watching you come apart under me, or on top of me, or-"

  "Sam!" I cut him off and playfully slap at his chest, but can't help another giggle.

  He grins. "I mean it. It's the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he replies, throwing his head back onto his pillow with a sigh.

  I both love and hate these incredibly romantic comments. I wonder if he'd be so recklessly saying such things if he knew how I felt about him. Probably not. He'd probably be running in the opposite direction.

  "Don't say things like that," I whisper, careful to hide my face against his shoulder.

  "Why the hell not? It's the truth," he retorts.

  I sigh, scooting off of him and under the duvet, suddenly very aware of my nudity. Sam turns to face me, his fingers brushing over my cheek, his eyes cautious. "You have no idea what you do to me," he says carefully, gazing at me intently.

  "Yeah? And what's that?" I ask, one eyebrow arched. The corner of his mouth lifts into a half smirk.

  "You make me feel fucking invincible."

  I burst into a fit of giggles. "How the hell do I do that?" I ask, still laughing. Sam slides under the duvet and leans on his elbow, looking down at me.

  "Well, we both know you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen-"

  I open my mouth to argue, but he presses his index finger to my lips to shush me and continues.

  "You tell me things you don't tell anyone else. I love that. You let me touch you, you let me hug you, hold you. Then you kissed me last night. That was fucking awesome, even though you were drunk off your ass. That kiss alone would've made my whole trip. But now, you let me make you come. I gave you your first-"

  "Jesus, Sam!" I try to stop him, because though every word he says is true, he is mortifying me. He doesn't comply.

  "Shh, don't interrupt," he says, before continuing as if there was no interruption. "Your first orgasm." He licks his lips so subtly that I'm sure it was completely subconscious. "No one can take that away from me, you know. And..." He pauses and his smile becomes less smug and more wistful, "you let me take away your bad dreams," he says in a whisper.

  I don't say anything. He did. He took away my nightmares, at least while he held me last night. And this afternoon.

  His smile shifts back into a smirk. "And not only that, but if I recall correctly, it wasn't one, but..." he bites his lip and pretends to count before holding up three fingers, counting how many times he got me off. "And counting," he adds with a devilish grin. I blush bright red, but I can't help but laugh.

  "Sam, my God!" I admonish, and his smirk grows.

  "Exactly my point," he teases. "And when you say that when you're about to come, baby girl, I feel like a fucking God," he drawls as he plops back down onto his pillow dramatically and I'm caught between a fit of giggles and extreme humiliation. I throw my forearm over my face, completely unable to look at him right now.

  "I guess you kinda are a God in that respect," I murmur, enjoying his ego right now, happy to please him when he's done so much for me. He pulls my arm away and I see that he's rolled back to his side and is looking down at me with wide eyes.

  "In what respect?" he asks excitedly, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I bite my lip, trying on my own smirk.

  "In bed," I say with a shrug, totally nonchalant.

  Sam makes a growling sound and bends down to kiss me deeply, making me real happy I decided to play this game with him and be truthful instead of drowning in embarrassment.

  "You sure know what to say to a guy, Ror. Tell me how big I am again," he demands playfully and I laugh.

  We kiss, and laugh, and kiss some more.

  I can't believe how comfortable I feel with Sam. I never thought I could feel this way, not with anyone. Not
even before Robin.

  "Do we really have to go to separate dinners tonight?" I whine, before I realize how clingy that must have sounded.

  "Hmm... We can ditch our friends... stay right here, order room service," Sam suggests, brushing my hair off of my shoulder before cautiously pressing his lips to my collar bone. My skin tingles. How does he know how to find these secret spots? My fingers comb through his hair all on their own accord.

  "That sounds real good," I murmur shyly, not quite sure how serious he actually was, but the idea of spending the evening the same way we spent the afternoon is too appealing to simply brush off. Sam's responding grin tells me he wasn't kidding.

  "Say the word, Ror, I'll text Tuck right now and make up an excuse."

  I bite my lip, considering it.

  "If we both make up excuses to ditch them, they'll know somethin's up, Sam," I reply, not bothering to conceal my disappointment. "They'll think you and me are..." I trail off. They'll think we're what? Hooking up? Something more? I don't even know what we're doing.

  "I got news for you, baby - they already know. I'm pretty sure they knew before we even did," Sam retorts matter of factly.

  I groan. I hate the idea of anyone knowing my personal business, especially something as private and intimate as getting physical with Sam. It's not like they'd think we're just making out. The still-vivid memory of nasty names being sprayed onto my driveway comes unbidden to my mind and I cringe.

  "Come on, Ror," he says gently, "even if they hadn't already noticed something was up, it's not like we can hide it indefinitely, right? I mean, I can't just not kiss you now that I know how fucking great your mouth tastes." He leans in and proves his point, that when he's near me, I want his lips on mine just as badly.

  Tuck and Carl are technically just hooking up, and they're as likely to engage in public displays of affection as any real couple, although they're also fairly likely to engage in combative arguments as well. Why should I have to resist the same affections with Sam?