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Sam is what happens to the typical high school jock when they get a bit older but don't grow up. Full of ego and testosterone, Sam lives for two things; sports and casual sex with the never ending supply of young, morally flexible, local college dollies. That is, until he meets Hope, an entirely different type of girl, and begins to realize that less isn't always more. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Submitted:Feb 26, 2013    Reads: 461    Comments: 7    Likes: 2   


B.B.W. Chapter Seven: An Explosive Climax

Hope called Sam's cell the next day. Jordan was back at school, and while her dad would still have to stay at the hospital until next week, he was out of ICU and healing well. Hope planned to stay in Novato until early Saturday morning and then drive back in time to work her shifts. Sam fretted about her leaving so early in the morning, but Hope insisted, saying she needed to keep her hours. He said he wanted to take her out for a quick dinner after her shift on Saturday, if she wasn't too tired. Hope made a counter offer, she would make him dinner at her place after she got off work. Sam agreed eagerly, his dwindling lizard brain reminded him that restaurants don't have beds but Hope's apartment almost certainly did.

Sam used the extra time to complete his homework assignment. He spent a few hours with the google, and what turned out to be an aggravating few more making, and returning phone calls. In the end, his options were predictably limited. After he did little bit of legwork, he was ready by Friday afternoon.

He drove to the gym around two thirty. He had been dodging Chad all week, and, when cornered, evading his questions about his three day absence. He would just say that he owed Chad big time, and change the subject. Chad had forgiven his friend for the bikini betrayal, but since Jenn was the one that talked to Chad about covering Sam's clients, that meant she probably knew what was going on, and if she knew, of course Mark knew. He didn't like being kept in the dark.

When Sam arrived Friday afternoon, he had arranged to have Mark and Jenn meet him so they could stage a kind of "asshole intervention" with Chad. When Sam told Chad about Hope, he may as well have told him he was gay, or that he was going to marry a dolphin and live happily ever after, under the sea. Sam told Chad that he didn't give a shit what his friend's opinion was, but that Hope was his girlfriend and he'd better treat her with some Goddamn respect. Chad's type A personality didn't like being told what to do, but when he saw Mark, standing behind Sam, scowling, he decided his type A ass didn't like getting kicked even more. He said he still thought Sam was out of his mind, but he agreed not to make any jokes, and to be as respectful as he knew how. With that out of the way, he told his friends that they would, if everything worked out according to plan, all get to meet Hope next weekend at Mark and Jenn's wedding.

That night, Sam went home and worried about Hope's return the next day. He desperately hoped she would like his idea. Anxiety kept him up long past midnight, but he drifted off finally, and awoke the next morning. He knew that as he lay in bed, Hope was already on the road, only a few hours from town now.

The minutes dripped by that Saturday like an ultra slow leak in an almost perfect faucet. Knowing that Hope was at Newsbeat by now drove him up a wall with anticipation, and fear. His next move was a big gamble, but with it, came the possibility of a big reward.

Finally, Sam looked at the clock and saw that it was only a half hour until Newsbeat closed. He had been sitting, dressed, with his shoes on and his keys in his hand for over an hour. He headed for the Camaro and his date with big, beautiful, destiny.

Sam parked the Camaro and headed for the front door. It appeared that, when it was time to close, the eternal smoke break took a hiatus; the parking lot was empty. Sam opened the door and stepped inside, hearing the ringing of the tiny bell, a sound his mind now indelibly associated with Hope. She was standing behind the counter, completing a transaction with an elderly, hunchbacked man buying a carton of American Spirits. When she looked to the door and saw Sam, she practically shoved the man's change into his hands and ran around the counter, her arms outstretched. She leaped at Sam and he caught her in his arms, squeezing her fiercely. She had missed him, that alone made his confidence swell.

"Hi." He said, his face muffled by the sweater covering her shoulders.

Hope tried to release Sam, but he wasn't interested in letting go yet, so she kept her arms around his neck, but leaned back, so they could see each other's faces. "Hi back." She said, her radiant smile outshone the fatigue of her long day.

"'Scuse me." Said the hunchback, trying to get past the happy couple. The moved further into the store to allow him to exit.

Sam asked Hope about her father's condition, and Jordan's. She said that nothing had changed with her father since lunchtime, when she had called her mother last, and that Jordan was completely recovered. He had asked his mom to say "hi" to Sam, which made Sam feel the tiniest bit funny.

Finally, Sam asked Hope, "So, now that we've had several dates, do you think it would still be weird to go to my friends' wedding with me next weekend?".

"Well," Hope replied coyly, "I suppose that falls under the job description of a girlfriend. Doesn't that mean I'm obligated to go?".

"Well," Sam replied, his grin at it's crookedest, "I'm no lawyer, but I think that's exactly what it means.".

"OK, then" Hope said, "I don't want any trouble with the law.".

Hope said she had to close out her register, so that they could go to dinner. Sam asked where Cynthia was (he actually said "where's grou...er, Cynthia?"); apparently she had come in alone to open since Hope was running late getting back from Marin. By way of thanks, Hope had let her leave at five and had agreed to handle all the closing duties herself. About five minutes before closing, Sam heard the bell, and the final customer of the evening came in. It was a white guy, skinny and stooped over, with long, stringy blonde hair and half a mouthful of crooked, yellow tusks. He had on a jean jacket and a Van Halen T-shirt, peppered with pinhole burns. He looked like that old Saturday Night Live character, Garth, from Wayne's World, if he had left the show and developed a serious meth habit. The loser shuffled over to the beaded curtain and into the back room.

Hope made a disparaging face. "What's back there, bongs?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, and porn." Hope whispered, "I hope this guy doesn't take forever back there."

As it turned out, he wasn't back there but thirty seconds before he marched back out quickly, but this time he had a makeshift bandana, most likely a scrap from a filthy t-shirt, over his lower face and he was holding a gun, a small, black revolver. He aimed it at Hope and said, "Empty the fucking register, bitch!". Hope made a small squeaking scream and froze, her face white as a sheet.

Sam, who had been standing in front of the counter, near Hope, froze as well. In his mind's eye, he imagined the gun going off, the deafening roar of a firearm being discharged indoors, the acrid puff of gray smoke. He pictured Hope, in the line of fire, falling. His mind screamed for him to act, but what could he do. If he had been Mark, he probably could have handily disarmed the man, breaking several bones in the process, but he was just Sam, the work out king of San Luis Obispo, not some badass wrestler. "Wait!" he screamed.

The gunman turned toward Sam, pointing his gun, when he cried out. "Stay out of this, asshole, or I'll shoot you in the fucking face, do you hear me!"

Sam looked the man in the eye. "I hear you," he said quietly, "please, just keep the gun pointed at me, OK."

"Fuck you!" the dirtbag sneered, "Open the fucking register, now, you fat bitch!" he screamed again.

He started to turn the gun back towards Hope when Sam called out again, "No, no, keep the gun on me OK, I've got what you want.".

The thief looked at Sam and said "Fuck you talkin' about?". He cocked the pistol's hammer back, making Sam's blood freeze.

Sam pulled out his wallet, and spread the billfold open, it was packed with cash. "I've got $700 in here OK, you can have it, just please don't point the gun at her, alright?". He removed the cash, and held it out, along with his car keys. "Here are my keys, it's the black Camaro outside, go on, take them." he insisted.

The robber looked at Sam like he was crazy, but $700 and a car was a hell of a lot more than he expected to get from the register, so he grabbed Sam's offering quickly and bolted out the door. Throughout the entire incident, all twenty seconds of it, Hope had remained virtually paralyzed, staring pallidly at the horrible scene as it played itself out. All she had been able to do was think of Jordan...and Sam. As soon as the robber exited, Sam turned to her and hissed, "Get in the back room Hope!". That broke her trance, and she scurried off through the beaded curtain. As she ran to the back, Sam ran to the front door, and turned the deadbolt knob, locking the door as he watched the bloody red taillights of his prized Camaro retreating down Santa Rosa avenue. He slapped the light switches on the nearby wall and plunged the room into darkness. He ran into the back to join Hope.

He cleared the strands of wooden beads and entered the "adults only" room of the shop, finding Hope, standing in the corner, biting her lower lip and trying like hell not to cry. This just really hadn't been her week.

Sam opened his arms to her and she rushed between them, burying her face against his chest. "Sam," she cried, "you didn't... you wouldn't...I can't believe...". He held her as she sobbed, and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. Hope looked at him as he calmly dialed 911. "You gave him all your money, and your car Sam." she said, incredulously, "You made him point the gun at you.".

911 had put Sam on hold. You had to love Saturday night in a college town. He looked down at Hope and said, "Yeah, that was pretty scary. I wouldn't worry about the car though.". He said, smiling devilishly.

"What do you mean?", she asked, sniffling, "Is it lojacked or something?"

"Better," he laughed, "It's out of gas. The light's been on since yesterday. I told myself when I pulled in here that if I didn't stop at the Texaco across the street when I left, I wouldn't make it the six blocks back to my place. You don't suppose he stopped at the Texaco do you?".

Hope smiled, through her tears, the shock of the robbery wearing off slowly. "I doubt it." she laughed weakly.

"Then I'm betting he doesn't even make the freeway on ramp." Sam said, laughing as he held onto his girlfriend.

Eventually, the 911 operator made it through her cue of emergency noise complaints and took Sam's call. He reported the robbery and gave a description of his car as well as telling them about it's lack of fuel. The dispatcher promised to send out a car, and true to her word, first two cop cars pulled into the Newsbeat lot, shortly joined by a third. Armed robbery was very exciting indeed for the SLOPD.

The cops took Sam and Hope's statements, as well as the security video from the store's only camera. Hope had calmed down considerably, but she still hadn't released Sam's hand, which suited him fine. He had put on a brave show, but he had been scared shitless, for Hope and for himself. His free hand still trembled as the adrenaline worked it's way out of his system.

The cop asked the couple if they would be willing to come down to the PD and look at some pictures. Sam started to agree, but Hope squeezed his hand and interrupted. She said she had been on the road since four am and was really tired. Then she reminded Sam that he also had something to take care of tonight. Sam was confused for a second, until he saw the look in Hope's eye. He put the cop off, saying he would come in first thing in the morning. The cop gave him a knowing wink, and said that, without gas, they would probably find the guy very soon.

Finally, Hope called Ernie, the shop owner to let him know what had happened. After she assured him that she was alright, "Thanks," she said, "to her boyfriend", he told her to take the day off tomorrow, with pay. They locked up the shop and headed out to Hope's Mazda. Hope said she was too tired to make dinner but asked Sam to come back to her place regardless. In truth, after the events of the previous hour, Sam doubted she could have convinced him to leave her side that night, even if all she wanted to do was sleep.

Sam took Hope back to her small studio apartment. Although he was mostly just relieved that Hope was alright, he lamented the loss of the $700 the scumbag stole from his wallet. He held off on the conversation he had been planning to have with Hope that night, fearing the loss of so much cash might force an alteration of his plan. Instead, he just tried to keep things light, taking Hope's mood off the trauma it had just experienced. She responded to his conversation, somewhat numbly. When they stepped inside her apartment, the first time for Sam, he was still babbling. Somehow he had gotten onto the subject of his past experiences with the occasionally inept San Luis Police Department.

Hope walked in front of Sam, and as he closed the door behind them. She told Sam that she was feeling pretty grungy after her drive this morning and then working all day. Hope asked if he would mind waiting, while she took a shower and of course he did not. Twenty minutes later she cam out of the bathroom wearing the same plush, burgundy robe he had seen her in at her parents; the one that just made him want to cuddle her brains out. He smiled, and resumed his babbling about the cops and robbers show that was undoubtedly playing out somewhere in San Luis tonight, after their little adventure at the store. Hope was squeaky clean from her shower, her long hair hung, still wet, over her shoulders. She walked toward Sam as he stood there, still speaking nervously, about nothing of consequence. "Sam," Hope interrupted him softly, "Shut up.".

"Yes, ma'am." Sam complied, before Hope kissed him. Her kiss started out soft and slow, but it took only seconds for the couple's long pent up desire to flare into a wildfire. Hope began peeling Sam's clothes off of him, a the while, her hungry mouth refused to relinquish his. Sam followed Hope's lead, not wanting to exceed the girl's comfort or desire; she had had a tough day.

There would be no stopping for Hope this time though. Her "build a better man" project seemed to have been a rousing success, and now, she was finally going to take her creation for a test drive. As she worked at the buckle of Sam's belt, his hands found the belt of her robe. He hesitated to untie it, but she nodded her encouragement without taking her full lips from his. As she unbuttoned the top of Sam's jeans, he undid the sash. Her robe fell open, allowing Sam to see her completely nude for the first time. He stared unabashedly, wantonly, like a kid looking at a fir tree with mountains of brightly wrapped presents beneath it. He slipped his hands into her robe, but instead of cupping her warm, pendulous breasts or her soft, succulent ass, he put his arms around her ribs and hugged her to him tightly, relishing the feel of her soft, supple skin against his tanned, firm, chest. Sam had never been much of a snuggler before meeting Hope. There just wasn't really anything to cuddle with most of the bony girls that Sam dated, but Hope was different. The way she wrapped her arms around him and hugged back as tightly as he squeezed her made him feel, well, loved, for lack of a better description. He could have stood there and held her all night, the smell of her fine, soft hair gently seeping into his nostrils and the sound of her breathing, coming a little deeper and faster now, were intoxicating his senses. Well, he could have stood there all night, except his giant, stiff cock was really starting to feel uncomfortable, bound up by his briefs and jeans and he was worried he might sprain it if he didn't unleash it soon.

Hope wasn't about to let that happen, however. Sam clutched her, his face buried in a mass of her hair while he kissed and licked loudly at her neck as she finished undoing his belt and opening his jeans. After kissing him again, and thoroughly investigating the inside of his mouth with her tongue, she pushed him back gently, and dropped to her knees in front of him, shucking his pants and underwear down to the floor with one rapid, fluid, motion. Sam's porn star dick sprang up, released from it's confinement, and bounced, up and down for a while, as Hope stared, fascinated. She grabbed a hold of Sam's meat, at it's base, and squeezed it, enough to cause a tiny shred of pain to mix itself into Sam's pleasure. "God, I love how thick you are Sam!" Hope said in a husky voice, before she lowered her mouth and took his bulbous head inside it's wetness, laying the smooth skin deliciously against her tongue. She loved the feel of him in her hand and in her mouth; somehow simultaneously as soft as velvet and as stiff and unyielding as oak.

"Don't worry baby," Sam said, "I'll be gentle.".

Hope stopped sucking and looked up at Sam. "Really?" she said sarcastically.

The girl thought that this simply wouldn't do. She understood Sam and what motivated him. She wanted his best efforts tonight, and here he was thinking he was the conquering hero, trying not to ravage his delicate maiden? Bullshit. Sam needed to feel challenged to give one hundred percent to anything, he was still a jock after all.

Sam looked down at her, sort of embarrassed, "Well, yeah, I mean, it's pretty big, but I'll be really careful.".

Hope took her eyes of Sam's and began stroking him again. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying Hope's firm grip and slow strokes. "Do you follow football Sam?". She asked, continuing to stroke him. Her thumb started a little dance of it's own now, wriggling like a snake against the shaft of his cock while she jacked him.

"What? Uh, yeah." Sam said, trying to figure out what the hell his big, gorgeous, girlfriend was talking about, and why she was picking this particular moment to talk about it.

"Do you know who Orlandus Hismith is?" she asked casually.

Sam loved sports trivia, but not as much as a good hand job, so he struggled with the answer, until his mind came up with, "Big fucker, offensive line for USC right?".

"Used to be," she said, "Got drafted by the Forty Niners this year.". Hope brought her other hand up and started moving them both up and down more rapidly on Sam's warm, pulsating rod, moving from the lip of it's sensitive head, all the way down to the trimmed hair surrounding it's base.

"Unnnnn," Sam moaned, "So?".

"Orlandus is Jordan's father." she said, before engulfing Sam's dick, once again, in her mouth, this time sliding five inches down her throat. Once again, she worked her swallowing muscles on the head of his cock.

Orlandus "Midnight at Noon" Hismith was six foot six, three hundred and twenty pounds and if racial stereotypes had any basis in truth, probably armed with a telephone pole between his legs, given the size of the rest of him. "Still think you need to treat me like a delicate flower?" she asked, blinking sweetly, and then going back to sucking him.

Sam felt a twinge of that same bewildering insecurity he felt when Hope had first refused his invitation for a date. The thought of going through everything he had, of becoming a whole new man, and now, to find out that his dick wasn't big enough, of all things? Well, he was just going to have to try that much harder. He remembered a fragment of some cliché that guys with little dicks used, something about the motion of the ocean. As Hope predicted, that little insecurity had Sam preparing to give it his all. For Hope's part, she started to hope she hadn't written a check with her mouth that her pussy couldn't cash. Orlandus was, indeed, a very well endowed man, but he was no Sam.

Hope sensed that Sam was getting a little too excited. She let go of him, as he stood stock still, breathing heavily. Hope stood up, allowing her undone robe to fall away as she rose. They stood together, facing one another, now both completely bare. Hope took Sam's hand and started to lead him to the bed, but he stopped, pulling her into his arms for another kiss. He took her angelic face in both his hands as his lips pulled and mashed against hers fiercely. They stumbled the few remaining steps to the bed and fell into it, their busy hands moving freely over each other's nude bodies.

Hope landed partially underneath Sam, and he began to kiss her ripe breasts in earnest. He lavished attention on each in turn, sucking and gently teasing nipples and soft warm flesh. He savored the heavy feel and plush softness of his lover. He continued south, his tongue bathing her ample tummy. She giggled, and kicked her adorable feet a little when he dipped his tongue into her navel.

Finally, he reached his ultimate destination. Sam curled his iron fingers firmly into the soft, creamy, meat of Hope's thighs and said "Come here.". He buried his face into Hope's pussy. She was waxed, and wet as hell as Sam began sucking the outer lips of her sweet honey pot. He squeezed her thighs firmly and pushed his face fully against her mound, when he found her clit and began to suck. Hope cried out, and bucked her hips, grabbing two handfuls of Sam's hair and pulling his face harder into her groin. She wasn't gentle, and Sam loved it.

When Sam added his plunging fingers to the tender ministrations of his tongue, Hope had her first orgasm of the evening. The build up with Sam had been long, and despite her insistence on maintaining a slow pace with their relationship, she had been wanting this every ounce as badly as Sam had. She screamed his name, as her hips thrashed. Sam kept at it, refusing to stop sucking his lover's tender opening. He had to remove his rapidly thrusting fingers however, and resume his firm grip of Hope's outer thighs, refusing to let her pull away from his ravenous mouth. Eventually, hope stopped thrashing, but her body continued to shudder, the muscles of her stomach clenching and unclenching with the force of her cum. Sam moved back up from between her thick thighs and retraced his moist trail, licking her belly, and up between her gorgeous tits, along the breastbone, until he reached her throat, causing her to giggle adorably. He moved up, and kissed her again, smiling into her eyes. Let's see Orlandus Hismith eat pussy like that, they seemed to say.

Hope put her arms around Sam and ran her palms across the smooth, well muscled, plates of his shoulder blades. She pulled him closer to her, his chest pressed firmly against her flushing breast. "Take me, Sam." Hope whispered into his ear. Sam took his place between her thighs, posting up with his sculpted arms. Hope reached down and guided him towards her soft, moist, center. Her pussy was already practically salivating with need.

Sam's eyes closed involuntarily, ecstasy overwhelming him as his cock slid in the first few delicious inches. He stroked slowly, allowing her pussy a chance to get used to his swollen spear. When Sam was about two thirds in, he encountered some resistance, but Hope dug her fingers into his ass cheeks and pulled him into her, encouraging him to thrust harder. Hope clamped her eyes shut, she was being stretched tremendously, but amazingly as well. Eventually, Sam managed to work the entire massive bulk of his cock into Hope's trembling body. She held him still for a moment, hear breath coming in sharp gasps, as she struggled to accommodate his girth. After a few seconds, she said breathily, "Go, Sam, fuck me.".

Prince Charming was finally balls deep in the glass slipper. Sam's eyes slammed shut as he was overwhelmed by the incredible sensation. His shaft felt like it was being milked by liquid velvet. He lasted less than a minute, before exploding with a colossal grunt, filling her with warm, sticky, semen. Hope felt him cum so quickly that she almost warmed up the, "happens to every guy once in a while" speech, that old chestnut, when she realized that Sam wasn't slowing down, or stopping. Sam was so turned on by Hope and the sensations she was giving him, that his rod stayed stone stiff, even after it's quickly induced eruption. Sam gritted his teeth as he pounded away, fighting the brief, but sharp moment of ultra sensitivity in the head of his cock. He kept fucking, picking up his pace, starting to drive into Hope's body now. He could barely control himself; he was fucking her harder than he'd ever fucked a girl, and she was digging it!

Hope realized now how much Sam had wanted her, as he kept right on screwing her to the mattress. God, but he was huge, she felt like she was getting fucked all the way up to her stomach. After three weeks of romantic tension, Hope was as wild with lust as her man. She grabbed his head with both hands as his jackhammer hips pounded and rebounded off her pelvis, the room filled with the sound of flesh smacking against flesh. Hope looked Sam in his eyes, and said, through gritted teeth, "Fuck me, Sam, you fuck me goddamn it, you fucking take me hard Sam!". She was far from submissive, she yelled at him like a fitness coach, somewhat ironically, urging him on, not begging, but demanding more of his cock, ramming into her harder and faster. When Hope came, she didn't even bother trying to be quiet; everyone in her complex, hell, everyone on her street, knew that, somewhere, a woman was getting well and truly fucked. Fifteen minutes after his first cum, Hope stopped him for a second. She was breathing heavily and sweating, strands of her chestnut hair plastered to her forehead. "Fuck me like an animal," she ordered, rising and turning on all fours on the bed. Sam moved behind her and took her hips in his hand. When he sunk the fingers on both hands into the flesh of her hips, he thrilled at the feeling. They sank a little, as if into a firm, warm dough, and Sam positioned himself behind Hope's channel. With one thrust, he slipped almost all the way inside her, and Hope gasped like she'd been stung. The gasp bled into a long, contented sigh as Sam slowly withdrew, and then slipped inside again, more slowly. He loved being able to grab Hope's hips so firmly, without fear of hurting the big girl. He started fucking again, building up speed. Hope was reduced to a series of animalistic grunts, each reaching a crescendo, whenever the head of Sam's cock would plunge to it's deepest point, as deep as she could possibly take. Sam reached up to take a handful of Hope's long hair, pulling her head back and keeping her impaled on his mammoth shaft. "Ohhh, God, Sam, yes!" Hope screamed, "Pull my hair, make me your fucking bitch!". She sounded like she was ordering the football team out to the field, or an army to take a hill.

After another twenty minutes of doggy style, and another blistering cum for Hope, Sam grunted again, "Ungh, I'm going to come inside you Hope!" he said through clenched teeth, flecks of spittle flew from his mouth. Hope, still on all fours and taking all of Sam's dick like a champ, looked over her shoulder and said, "You cum Sam, you fucking cum hard! Cum inside me Sam!". That was all it took, Sam exploded again, painting the inside of his girl with his seed for the second time that evening. Sam rolled off of Hope, and collapsed next to her on the bed.

He needed a break this time; it took almost eight minutes before Hope had him hard again. This time Hope mounted Sam and rode his Diggleresque dong like a cowgirl. Sam loved the feeling of being pinned to the bed by his big girlfriend as she did all the work, bouncing up and down on his thick meat, her tits jiggling and swaying hypnotically. After some of that, and the reverse, Hope was actually starting to get a little sore. Not that she would admit it, but Sam had given her quite the hammering. She climbed off of him, and gave her man his third orgasm, with her wet, willing mouth. As before, she continued to suck right through his eruption, swallowing the comparatively small amount of hot sperm that he was capable of producing at that point. Right at that instant, the phone on the counter began to ring. Although Hope feared the call may have something to do with her father, she was unable to move and the call went to her machine. It was the SLOPD, they had caught the armed robber from Newsbeat. Sam was wrong about the robber not being able to get to the freeway on ramp. He got there just fine, and almost a half mile beyond, before the car quit on him CHP picked him up trying to jog down the 101 to the next exit. Oh, and they had her boyfriend's car, and better still, his money had been recovered as well. Breathing heavily, Sam joked, "Maybe I should run down and buy a lottery ticket before midnight."

"You should put on pants then." Hope sighed contentedly.

They both lay together, Hope's head resting in the hollow of Sam's shoulder, spent and exhausted for a long while before anyone spoke again. Sam broke the silence first by saying, "I love you, Hope.".

Hope sighed quietly; boys were so predictable. "Are you sure that's not just the intensity of everything we've been through tonight honey?", she asked gently.

Sam looked genuinely hurt. "No," he said petulantly, "I had planned to tell you tonight anyway, before that stuff with the robbery, and before that amazing lay" he finished smiling.

For Hope's part, barring the episode that resulted in Jordan's conception, and even that for entirely different reasons, Sam had just provided her the best sex she had ever experienced. Not that she could just tell him that. Seeing his sincerity, her heart melted a little. "You were? Oh Sam, I love you too.". she said, surprised a little at how much she meant it.

They held each other a while longer when Sam asked, "Do you want me to go for tonight?".

"No" Hope said quickly, moving her body closer to his and holding on tightly.

Sam smiled at her, and returned her embrace, "OK." he said. He wasn't sure if Hope truly did love him, at least not as much as he loved her. He would have to wait until tomorrow to find out.





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