“We weren’t ready back then,” he said. “We felt all these things, but we couldn’t talk about it. It just didn’t work.”
Sam, whose eyes were still shining with tears, snorted. “What about now? I still can’t talk to you, Galahad. I drew a pussy on your face instead of talking to you.”
“And I climbed in your window and had sex with you instead of talking to you.”
Sam shook her head. “Are we idiots, doomed to failure and too stupid to realise?”
Scott laughed. “I don’t think so, you came over, didn’t you? And I’m guessing it wasn’t to tell me that you’ll never trust me, not never, never, never.”
She glared at him. “I might have come here for that. You don’t know.”
“I think I do.” Scott raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Maybe all this drama has just been us getting it out of our systems. Maybe from here on out, we can use our words and be proper adults about things.”
“That would be nice. Boring, but nice.”
They smiled at one another.
Scott inhaled, smelling her perfume. He recognised the sugary pink scent of Britney Spears’ Fantasy, as evocative of the early-noughties as flip phones and The OC theme song.
“The uniform,” he said, brushing his hands over her shoulders. “Why did you wear it?”
Sam ducked her head. “I think I was hoping to go back to another time and place, have a second chance. Sorry, that’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?”
He didn’t think it sounded ridiculous. It sounded like a dream come true. Scott put a finger under her chin and gently tilted. Samantha’s eyes locked on his, hypnotic as double pendulums. “Scott…”
“Don’t get embarrassed. What time do you want to go back to?”
Her delicate throat contracted and her tiny key tattoo seemed to flicker at him. “Um, maybe August 17? 2006?”
“Why do you want to go back there?”
She wet her lower lip. “It was before…”
She looked away, her expression so pained Scott felt his own heart twist. “You don’t have to feel bad about the past, Samantha. We were just kids and—”
“It’s not that,” she said. “August 17, 2006 was before I’d ever been with anyone…you know. That Way.”
Scott felt his body temperature rise several degrees.
Easy. If you go in too hard, you’ll ruin this.
“I’d like to go back to that time, too.” He pictured himself at sixteen, skinny with floppy blonde hair, how he’d feel if he’d been standing this close to Samantha, then. He touched her side and when she trembled, it stole the air out of his lungs.
“I’ve…I’ve liked you for such a long time,” he said, his voice teetering on the edge of a break, as though for all the world, he was sixteen again.
Samantha looked at the floor, tugging at her hem. “I know. I like you, too, but I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before.”
Scott inhaled, willing his body to go back ten, twelve, thirteen years, without passing the fuck out at what was happening right now. “Sammy, will you be my girlfriend?”
She licked her lips, and despite her tattoos and the too-short uniform and the fact they were standing in his quiet, rented apartment, Scott knew her uncertainty was real. On some level, it was all real.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to be your girlfriend,” she said at last. “I don’t want to hurt you. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay.” Scott moved closer to her, pressing his chest against hers and wondering if she could feel the hammerings of his heart. “We don’t have to be a couple right away, but do you trust me to look after you? Just for now, just in this?”
She looked up, and he felt her fear. Not of him, the kind of fear that came from climbing into a roller coaster when you were afraid of heights. Fear going into the unknown, where instincts and memories might be helpful or utterly useless.
“Do you trust me?” she asked and it surprised him to have to think about the answer.
There were reasons not to trust her—the pranks, buyscottsandersonaroot.com, the fact she’d drawn a vagina on his face while he was asleep. But looking at her, he knew those things didn’t matter. “Of course, I trust you.”
She chewed her lower lip and he realised the question actually meant, ‘why do you like me?’
He held her hand closer to his chest. “I think you’re beautiful and funny and strong, Sammy. I think you’re an incredibly talented artist and the loyalty you show your family is incredible. I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. Whenever I see you, I’m just…happy.”
She smiled, pink creeping across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
He watched her chew at her lower lip before practically spitting out the words. “I trust you, too, Scott. I just don’t want you to hurt me.”
Hope ignited in his belly like a flame. “I won’t, I promise I won’t.”
They kissed. Both of them shuddered as their lips connected. Their mouths aligned perfectly and as they fell into one another, Scott forgot everything but the taste and feel of Samantha DaSilva’s lips. Soon their kissing became urgent, animalistic. Sam touched him everywhere but Scott only allowed himself to explore her hips and stomach—nervous to attempt something she might not like.
When he was hard to the point of pain, he pulled away to tell her they needed to do something else. But she just laughed, pushing him against the nearest wall. “I want you. I want you to be the first.”
The words were music, as good as any he’d managed to coax out of a drum kit. He picked her up, guiding her legs around his waist and turned them so that she was pressed against his kitchen wall. He stroked her legs, her hair, the warm cotton of her dress. He wanted everything—to suck her nipples, to pull aside her underwear and finger her, to drive himself deep while she called out his name. He wanted it all, yet he couldn’t stop kissing her long enough to try. This was like being a teenager, so horny and eager that once things got going, you were almost paralyzed by how good everything felt. Mercifully, Sam was more clear-headed than he was, reaching between them to rub at his aching cock. “Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
She arched her back, presenting her tits to him. “Go on, then.”
With a grunt, Scott cupped her breasts through her school dress, feeling the press of her nipples against his palms. He tugged them slightly and she ground hard against his cock. “Scott, I’m so wet.”
“Good.”
“I want this to be real,” she whispered. “I want the first time to feel as real as we can make it.”
Scott knew exactly what she meant. “We need a location change. Your bedroom’s a bit far, but I have just the place.”
He carried her to the living room where his leather couch was waiting. She kissed along his neck and when he laid her down, she gave a sexy little squeal of surprise.
“Come here,” she said, holding up her arms. “Come back on top of me.”
And so he did. He lay down on her and when they kissed, it was as much a homecoming as playing the drums had felt. They made out until his cock was just one big throb, but Scott didn’t try to take things further. He could feel that Sam was excited, but the fantasy dictated he keep things slow. They were kids, neither of them had had sex. He would have been happy just to kiss her, especially since her dad and sisters would have been around, and he had no idea how to make a girl come. The pressure of it would have sent him into the most pleasurable kind of panic.
“Galahad,” Sam whispered. “It hurts between my legs.”
“Do-do you want me to stop?”
“No.” She took his hand and pressed it between her thighs. She was wearing lacy underwear and everything he touched was wet. He closed his eyes. “You want me that much?”
She kissed his jaw. “I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember, Scott. Can you…touch me there?”
“Fuck yes.” Scott rubbed her gently, sendi
ng sparks skittering through her.
“Can you tell me what to do?”
Sam’s eyes rolled back in her head. “A little harder?”
He rubbed harder, moaning into Sam’s hair at the feel of her wetness. “I want you to come so bad.”
“Me too.”
She opened the buttons on her old school dress, exposing a translucent black lace bra. Scott moaned, leaning forward to suck on a raspberry nipple. Sam whimpered. “Scott, I think I’m going to…”
He rubbed harder, pressing his hand between her thighs. “Come. Come on me. I want to feel it.”
But Sam tugged his hand away. “That felt so good, but I don’t want to finish that way. Could we maybe…?”
“Do you want me to kiss you there?”
“No.” She pulled out a single white square out of her skirt pocket. “Can we have sex?”
Scott swallowed. Sex, sex with Samantha DaSilva. He’d spent almost his whole life wanting this. Could now be the right time? He looked up, as though hoping something, or someone, could give him an answer. What he saw was his new apartment, the boxes piled up, the smoke and chrome drum kit he’d been playing fifteen minutes ago, when this wasn’t even a possibility.
“Scott…” Sam’s hand ghosted over his jaw. “I know it’ll be our first time, but I want it to be now. With you.”
It was a beautiful lie. It glowed so gorgeously, it seemed to fade the ink on Sam’s skin, taking them back to August 17, 2006, to her bedroom where they might have, if things had been different, lost their virginity together.
Scott took the condom from her and shoved it into his shorts pocket. He returned his hand to the wet space between her legs. Only this time he pulled aside the strip of material and slipped a finger inside her, watching as her eyes rolled back. “I could make you come like this, Sammy. I could finish you off and then go down on you.”
“No,” she moaned. “I want to have sex.”
“I don’t know, it’s a big responsibility. What if you’re not ready?”
She glared at him, but he could tell she was amused. His virginity had been such a source of amusement to her, it felt good to give a little teasing back. At least it did until her hand found his cock once more.
“Can I see you? All of you?”
Smirking a little, Scott stood up and stepped out of his shorts and underwear as efficiently as possible. When he was naked he straightened up, fisting a hand around his throbbing cock. “By ‘all of me’, did you mean this?”
“Kind of.” Sam scanned him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “It’s so…pretty.”
Scott laughed. “Thanks?”
“I mean it. It’s so fair and cut and lovely.” She gestured for him to come closer. He obliged, and she slid out a hand and caressed his cock, stroking it down the base and cupping his balls. When she bent her head to suck the tip, Scott bit the insides of his cheeks, willing himself not to come. She was touching him as though this was all new, and in a way it was. Last night in her bedroom, they had gone at each other like they were fighting in a melee. This was soft and entirely intimate.
Samantha drew him into her mouth, sucking with a timidity that bordered on shyness. Then she glanced up at him. “You’re so big. I don’t know if I can get it all in.”
“I don’t need that,” he choked. “I just need you to keep going.”
She bent her head and continued to suck as her free hand explored his thighs and ass. When she brushed against his balls, he hissed through his teeth, so close to coming he was in agony.
“Can I try something?”
“Anything.”
Sam stroked a damp finger over his asshole and Scott felt like he’d died and gone to heaven. Her mouth was warm and tight around the head of his cock and as he looked down and watched the girl of his dreams suck him off in her school uniform, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “Samantha, baby, if you want to do more, if you want to use the condom, we have to stop this.”
She hummed her approval and pulled away from him, lying back down on the couch. Scott took the condom from his pocket and tore it open with trembling fingers. His pulse was so fast he could feel it in his ears and as he rolled the latex down, his hands were shaking.
“Are you nervous?”
He considered lying, but what would be the point? “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and I want to make you feel good.”
She smiled up at him. “You will. I know you will.”
She tugged off her underwear, and the sight of her gorgeous pussy brought him to his knees in front of her. She let him lick her for what felt like no time at all before tugging at his hair. “No! If you won’t let me do it, you can’t either.”
Scott swore but complied, moving on top of her again. Sam wove her arms around his back and he knew the moment was finally here.
“Ready?”
It would have been easier to close his eyes, but he made himself look at her as he lifted his hips and pressed himself to her entrance. “Ready?”
“Beyond ready.”
Scott slid down and there he was. There they were together. For a moment he simply held himself there, trying to memorise the velvety feel of her around him, but then Sam’s fingers braced at his back, urging him to move. He moved, and as soon as he did he slipped into an ocean of airless, noiseless pleasure. Within seconds, his skin was tingling. He was close but he wasn’t worried he was going to come, the sensation was too intense. Like shoving your finger into a wall socket, like drumming along to Come As You Are and hitting every note perfectly every single time. He drove inside her, the wet from her pussy slicking his thighs, and watched her face. She was so beautiful it made him high, it made him think he’d never feel sadness again.
“Deeper,” she whimpered. “Please, deeper?”
He gripped her thighs and shoved them forward, driving into her like a man possessed. The hot slap of their bodies grew louder. He felt her legs spasm, he knew she was close. “What can I do for you? How can I make you come?”
Sam’s eyes were closed, her hair pooled around her head like a puddle of silk. “Call me names. Say something bad to me.”
Half-mad with pleasure, Scott said the first thing that came to mind. “You like taking my cock, you filthy whore?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“That’s good, because you’ve got it, you’re going to have it for as long as I want to give it to you.”
Sam’s hips were rocking, she was chewing her lower lip hard. “I swear I’m so close.”
“Good.” He gave her upper thigh a sharp slap, delighting in her squeal of pained excitement.
“More,” she said. “Please?”
He spanked her again. “There you go, you dirty girl. Now come. Come on me.”
Despite his command, it took a little while longer. She humped against him with her eyes closed and he was free to watch, to feel her tighten around him. When her nails bit into his shoulder, he knew she was there. He pumped hard, forcing her tightening walls apart and wondered if anything would ever feel as good again. Twenty seconds later, he had his answer—it would only get better.
Sam urged him onto his back and rode him like a cowgirl. Within seconds, his whole body seized up, the pleasure so all-consuming he felt like he was going to black out.
When he was done, she withdrew and lay down beside him, their bodies slick, her school dress soaked with their sweat.
“That was amazing,” Sam whispered into his ear. “Best first time ever.”
It had been the best first time ever. He wasn’t the kind of guy who thought everything besides vaginal intercourse was second best and he’d come to believe Edgar DaSilva when he said virginity wasn’t as important as teenagers believed it to be, but this was different from anything they’d done before. This had been a union. Scott kissed her neck. “You’re fucking incredible, Samantha.”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Thanks.”
>
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah it’s just…” She pressed two fingertips to her mouth. “We were sober.”
Scott stared down at her, wanting to ask, but not wanting to say something clumsy and hurt her.
“I’m not an alcoholic. I promise I don’t have a problem, but I’ve always found it hard to be with someone when I’m not a bit pissed. This was…you were amazing.”
Scott forced himself not to be sappy and repeat that she was fucking incredible. Instead, he took her hand. “What can we do to make you feel better?”
Sam giggled. “I already feel pretty great. Hey, do you want some of the pie I brought?”
“That’s a pie in the container? Like the ones you used to make?”
She glanced away, staring at the back of the couch. “Yeah, cherry and sour cream.”
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know.” She flashed a look at him, her fingers twisting at her lower lip. “I was…always better at talking with actions, not words. After you left for London, I kept the same nail polish on for weeks. It got all ratty and chipped but I couldn’t make myself take it off. It felt like admitting you were gone. Eventually there was only the smallest bit on my pinkie and when it chipped away…”
“What happened?”
“I cried.” She touched his lower lip. “I didn’t think about emailing you or calling, but I cried when my nail polish was all gone. It was sparkly orange. I never wore it again.”
He stared at her, feeling an unfamiliar prickle in the backs of his eyes. “T-t-thanks for s-saying that.”
She smiled softly. “I think I should say more.”
He could have told her it didn’t matter, that he didn’t need her apologies, but he sensed that it was what she needed and stayed quiet.
Samantha pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not talking to you when I heard about the heritage stuff. I’m sorry for drawing on your face. I’m sorry for not being able to say I trusted you when I did. I’m sorry for pranking you so hard when we were kids, I’m sorry for buyscottsandersonaroot.com, I’m sorry for not being there for you when your mum died. I’m just sorry, Scott.”
Her eyes were glossy and watching her, Scott’s own vision blurred. “Thanks for saying that. It’s all okay, though. You were my age, neither of us knew what we were doing. We were running around trying to make sense of things and failing miserably—just like all teenagers. Besides, you did make me feel better.”
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