"Last call!" Sam's voice rang out across the bar. People slowly began gathering their things, reaching for their wallets. I stopped wiping down tables, starting closing out checks. I heard the bell chime over the door, didn't even need to look to see that it was Jane Bodehouse's son come to get her. Typical Saturday night at Merlotte's.
A few minutes later, we were closed. Arlene left, without saying goodbye. This is, unfortunately, also now a typical Saturday night at Merlotte's. Her FotS boyfriend picked her up, gave me a glare, drove off with her. I sighed.
"Why don't you come over, relax for a minute, cher?" I heard Sam ask from behind me. I turned. He had a gin and tonic for me, a beer for him, and was gesturing towards his front porch, just adjacent to the bar parking lot. It looked a hell of a lot more inviting than what I had planned for the evening, which was going home to mope about how Eric still hadn't bothered to contact me since recovering his memories of the time he was cursed. Memories, I might add, which included how he had fallen in love with me and offered to leave everything for me. It had been months since he remembered, and I hadn't heard a peep out of him. Not even a message from Pam. I could only take that to mean that his feelings had changed, or rather - that they were only valid under the curse. I'd pretty much made my peace with it, but it still stung.
But enough daydreaming. I realized I was still standing there, under the security light, and I hadn't actually answered Sam. I looked over at him, still waiting for me to answer.
"Cher?" He tentatively held the hand with my gin and tonic out to me, and the light from above caught him. I saw him, really saw him, for the first time in the six years I'd known him. Red gold hair that never would quite be tamed curled around his head, and it positively shone in this light. Lean, wiry build, with narrow hips tucked into snug jeans. A slim fitting plaid shirt he never bothered to tuck in because it would just get un-tucked a million times every day as he went through his routine. Long legs with strong muscles ended in boots. But his eyes, he had the sweetest green eyes and they were filled with love and they were still waiting for an answer over something as simple as whether or not I'd have a drink with him. How did I never see this before? How did I hide all this behind the "boss" label?
"Sure." I smiled. "Let me just put my things in my car, just a sec." He relaxed and ambled over to sit on his porch steps. I could feel him watch me as I threw my purse, apron onto my passenger seat, re-locked the door. I crossed the parking lot, sank down on the step next to him. He handed me my drink, smiled.
"Sookie, I need to ask you a question."
"Ok, Sam, shoot."
"Are you in love with Eric?" That was NOT the question I was expecting, and I choked a little on my mouthful of gin and tonic. Next to me, Sam chuckled. "Sorry, I should've started with something easier. You alright?" He rubbed my back in circles. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, that man was WARM.
"I'm fine. The answer to your question is, no, I don't think I am, any more."
He nodded, kept rubbing my back. "Do you still love Bill?"
This one was easier. "A part of me will probably always love Bill - you always do love your first love, right? - but I'm not in love with him anymore, no. I'm going to jump ahead to what I guess will be your next question - no, I don't love Quinn, either. Now, is this version of Twenty Questions over or do you have sixteen others?" I smiled at him.
"Just one. Do you think you could ever love me?" Wow, the million dollar question. There was only one way for me to for sure know the answer to that question. He'd invited me to listen before, but I'd deliberately never taken him up on the offer.
"Sam, I need... I need to listen to you. Can...?" I gestured at him, I knew that he knew what I meant. He nodded.
I put my hands on his shoulders, leaned him back against his trailer, scooted closer to him. I leaned over, put my head on his shoulder. Slid my hand between the buttons on his shirt, placed my hand over his heart. I felt his intake of breath, twined my fingers into the springy gold chest hair. And I listened.
For the first time in my life, I actually saw. I knew he opened up completely, because I saw everything that was in his heart. This man next to me wanted to give me everything I secretly wanted so much. He wanted to marry me, give me babies, live in my family's old farmhouse because he knew it would break my heart to leave. He wanted me to not just be a waitress in his bar, but help him run it as his partner. He wanted to protect me with his life, put up with my idiot brother, live in this town for the rest of his life because he knew it was my home. I couldn't help it, I did what I always do.
I started crying.
"Sookie...? Cher, why...?" And then he got the complete wrong idea. "You don't... you can't... I'm not good enough." He started backing away. "Just don't quit, okay? I'll get over it, I just don't want to have to find another waitress, too." He was literally scrambling as fast as he could away from me.
"SAM, STOP!" He froze, hands and knees on his porch steps, backing away from me. I couldn't help it, I giggled. "Come here." I held out my hand. He just stayed there, staring at me, crying and laughing. I must've looked crazy.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh, and I'm not crying because you aren't good enough. Oh, Sam, I'm crying because you're perfect. And because this whole time you've been right under my nose and I didn't see you and I've wasted so much time." And I just threw myself on his porch in a heap and sobbed.
After a minute I felt the porch creak. I felt myself being lifted and carried, Scarlett-and-Rhett style, into his trailer. He laid me down gently on his bed, then went into the other room. I heard the sounds of a bath running. I just lay there on his bed, all sobbed out, listening to him move around. His bed had a simple plaid comforter on it, basic cotton sheets. Very him. He came back in a moment. He began, very gently and confidently, to undress me. When he pulled my t-shirt off and saw the scar from my being staked, he drew in a sharp gasp. "Those fuckers!" He bent down, very gently, and kissed the scar. I gasped when I felt his mouth brush my skin - it was so hot, it felt like fire. He picked me up, carried me into the bathroom, and placed me very softly into a bubble bath. I started to reach for him to join me, but he caught my wrist and said softly, "Let me take care of you, Sookie. I've been wanting to for years."
This was new for me, but if that's what he wanted. I leaned back in the tub and closed my eyes. I felt water pour over my head, strong fingers shampoo my hair. "I love to watch your hair bounce around, cher, and when you walk past and you've just washed it, it drives me crazy. It smells so good." He leaned me forward, massaged my neck, shoulders. "I don't know how you carry all the things you carry on your trays, you're so small." His fingers rubbed my arms, down to my hands, twined in my fingers.
"On your feet all day, never listen when I break up your shifts, always want doubles. How do you stand it?" His strong fingers massaged my legs, gripped my thighs, stroked into my calves, rubbed my feet. I sighed and sank lower into the water. This was heaven, but I wanted more.
I stood up, letting him take in the water sliding down my body as I stepped out of the tub. "Sam, this isn't fair."
He smiled. "Not fair?"
"Nope. In fact, it's just plain rude. You won't join me, and you're driving me crazy. Hand me a towel, please?"
He looked around. "I seem to be out of towels."
"Huh. In that case, I'll just have to dry off... on you." I pulled him up from his kneeling position next to the tub, leaned him against the vanity and twined myself against him. I nuzzled against his chest, rubbed against the cotton shirt, began unbuttoning it, then suddenly ripped it open, desperate to feel him against me. I wrapped my fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to mine. Oh God, so hot! I felt myself being lifted, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
He carried me down the hall, tried to throw me onto his bed but I wouldn't unlock my legs from his waist, pulled him with me. I started clawing at his belt buckle, frenzied to get his jeans off and feel him against me. His mouth was everywhere, on mine, my neck, nipping at me, my breasts. All of a sudden he froze. I stopped my struggle with his jeans, realized he was staring at the faded bite marks on my breasts from the last time I was with Eric, months ago. A low growl escaped his throat. In a flash, his head shot down and I felt a nip in the same place - he didn't break the skin, but there was a red mark from his canines. Well, well, well. Easy going Sam went alpha male on me. His head snapped back up and looked at me. I thrust my chest at him, as if to say, mark me anytime. He gave a high whine and grinned.
I finally got his jeans off and whoo boy. Maybe not quite as endowed as some I know but it's definitely gracious and it's definitely plenty! Just feeling him, completely bare against me, was a totally new experience. I reached down and sank my fingers into that gorgeous ass I'd previously only gotten to enjoy visually and it was worth the wait. He growled again and slid down my body. No... Sam's not going to...?
Oh. Mother. Of. God.
I didn't think anyone could be better at that than Eric (ok, my experience with it is pretty limited), but Sam had him beat HANDS DOWN. It seemed like his tongue was on fire and within moments he had me burning up, screaming incoherently and having one of the most intense orgasms of my life. I felt Sam smile against my sex. Pretty proud of himself, was he? Well, two could play that game. He wasn't the only one who had skills.
I gathered the strength in my leg muscles and used everything I had to flip him over. He looked utterly shocked as he suddenly found himself underneath me. I smiled and silently thanked not only all those doubles I worked but the tiny remaining amount of vamp blood I had in my system for that extra bit of oomph. I slid slowly down his body, savoring the experience of his warmth against my breasts. I reached down and found what I was looking for. God, he was perfect. Long, smooth, just the right thickness. I slowly trailed my nails against his length and he gasped. I squeezed gently, testing the waters, and he groaned. Before he knew what I was doing, I had all of him in my mouth.
"Jesus, Sookie!" He tangled his fingers in my still-wet hair and thrust against me. I'd never felt anything like that before - I thought the man might literally combust, right there, he felt so hot. It felt amazing. I could get addicted to this, easily. I lapped and sucked and twirled my tongue and did everything I could think of to give back as good as he had given me. Suddenly, though, his fingers in my hair pulled my head up and off of him.
I whimpered, missing the feeling of him already. "No, Sam... more.... want more..." I tried to move my mouth back to him.
He grinned. "Later, cher, but not now, not our first time. I want my first time with you to be just that, with you." He gently placed me back on to the bed, laid down over me. "Sookie, I've dreamed about this." He settled himself between my legs, and slowly, so tormentingly slowly, slid into me. I gasped, he felt so exquisite.
He felt like coming home.
We lay there like that for a moment, just content to be connected, then finally he gathered me in his arms and slowly began to pump. I wrapped my legs around his waist and felt him slide even deeper into me. I reached down, slid my hands over his ass, pulled him even tighter in still. We both gasped. It was the most amazing feeling. I began to feel like my moment was coming, and started to move my hips faster, but he refused to change pace.
"No cher, I've waited too long for this. I'm taking my time." And take his time he did. Just when I'd be right at the edge, he'd back off, slow down even further, until finally I was crying, almost begging him to finish.
"Sam..." I gasped, my voice ragged.
"Say my name again. I want to hear you say it, Sookie, I've waited to hear you say it like that."
"Sam." He thrust harder. "Sam." Two fast thrusts. Okay, Stackhouse, clue in to the pattern here.
"Sam." THRUST. "Sam." THRUST. "SAM." SLAM. "SAM." SLAM. "SAM." SLAM. "SAM!" SLAM! "SAM!" SLAM! "SAM!" SLAM! "SAM!" SLAM!
And then after a long, keening, "Saaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmm" from me, Sweet Jesus the most gorgeous, intense feeling I've ever had came over me. Pure, animal heat came from Sam in waves, but instead of being in any way frightening, it brought me the most beautiful sense of peace. I was wrapped in his arms, warmth wrapped all around me, inside and out. I felt his release in every pore of my body. I sighed and, so at ease in his arms, slept.
When I woke, we were tangled in each other. I looked at the sleeping Sam, and knew that something was different about his face. He looked so blissful laying there, curls everywhere. Suddenly I remembered something.
His green eyes snapped open. "Cher, what...?"
My eyes twinkled at him from between his legs. "You said later."
"And I'm not gonna argue with you this time. Do with me what you want, woman!" He grinned and moaned.
And I did. I was right, I did become addicted to him. Six years and two kids later and I still can't get enough of him. I've sucked that man all over Renard Parish. Our house (known now as the Stackhouse-Merlotte farmhouse), outside in the woods before he changed at the full moon, eight months pregnant, his office at the bar, even the walk-in freezer. We even stole away at our own wedding reception because we couldn't keep our hands (or rather mouths) off each other. Make no mistake about it, though, my husband returns the favor. I am the happiest woman in Louisiana.