“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.”
“Sorry,” I say with a laugh. “So, can you talk during a surge?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t say anything at first when you came back, surfaced. I was just wondering…”
“Talking isn’t always the easiest thing when surging, but seeing you fed into my sex drive so much that I was pretty much in a zone. Speaking, hearing…well, they weren’t really options.” Sam smiles. “Normally, I have a bit of function, but seeing you got me a little crazy. And just so you’re aware, you also have strong id drives of your own—for which I am immensely grateful.” His eyes look down over the front of my bikini. “I plan to make use of them when we get home.”
“I do indeed have a drive—for you and only you. I can’t get enough. You changed everything for me, Sam. You made sex beautiful. You made it about love. You let me be able to feel it and enjoy it. I’m learning about myself because you’ve given me a place to do that.”
There is so much care and truth in his face when he looks into my eyes. “My surge, the level I was at…it was about you. Costa was right that I needed to know you were okay before I died, and it made going under and surfacing smoother than ever. But I think that knowing I was coming back to you also influenced my surge in a way I haven’t felt before. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I believe the power was because of you. That surge had meaning.” Sam pulls me so close that the rest of the world fades away for a minute. “You’re doing something to me. I feel it all through my body. I love you, Stella, so much.”
There are kisses that arouse, there are kisses that deliver love, and then there are kisses that transcend both of those things. That’s how Sam kisses me—with his entire soul. He gives me all that he fights for and against, all that he fears, and all that he hopes. He kisses me with his past and his present and his future.
I am so in love with him.
“Hey! If you two do it on the beach, watch out for sand! Ew!”
Hollering from the water’s edge makes us separate, and I can’t help but giggle at Costa’s shrill squeal.
“Fuck off!” Sam yells back. But he’s got a smile plastered on his face.
Costa throws both hands on his hips and takes an outraged stance. “Language! Honestly, I’m appalled. There are families here!” He gestures around the cove that is empty, except for our crew. “As restitution, one of you needs to come clamming with me. Kelly ditched me.”
Sam groans, but I stand up and stretch. “I’ll go, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Tell Costa he’s a dick.”
“Will do.”
The truth is that I like clamming. Stepping on the wet sand, waiting for squirts of water that tell me a clam is somewhere under there—it’s just so Maine. I feel very comfortable that this is now my home. I give Sam a quick kiss and head for the shoreline, and Costa cheers when he sees me coming.
He’s adorably free and unrestrained, but I’m struck with sadness.
God, he must have been a wonderful father.
I run faster to him. I reach out for the bucket. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Costa whips it behind his back. “Tell me what Sam’s power is.”
I laugh. “Nope.”
Costa has been trying to get Sam to reveal his new power, but Sam is determined to torture Costa for as long as possible.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re mean.”
“Well, Sam says to tell you that you’re a dick.”
He wiggles a finger. “Ah, I think Sam meant to say that helikesmy di—”
“No!” I laugh and scramble for the bucket, but he’s too fast.
We stomp in the mud and clam until my toes are freezing. The Atlantic Ocean, even in July, is frigid, and I cannot believe there are brave people who actually swim in this.
