Auld Lang Syne

Act 2, Chapter 8

The rain tapped the windows around the house, and they kissed there, beneath that door frame, naked, sweaty, horny.

"Peta...", Sam breathed, his hard dick still dripping come onto the tiles below.

"Ja...," Peta said, turning to face him, grabbing his shaft and feeling the slickness of her come and his combined, "ja, to the bedroom. NOW. Snell. SNELL!"

She took his hand and they went up the stairs, through the darkened house, to her bed, throwing themselves under the sheets, and kissing, fondling, biting, a rousing each other further into a frenzy. Sam pushed Peta onto her back, and pushed her into a missionary position. Peta made no effort to stop him from reentering her, the still dripping come from the tip of his dick exciting her more.

She groaned when he slid back in, and started to squeeze herself on his dick as he swayed his hips against hers. "Ja, ja...ja, ja...ja, ja," Peta moaned, "keep going, keep going..." Sam was pushing harder against her than he had ever done before, as they looked back into each other's eyes there was a change between them, Sam pounding his dick furiously into her and Peta receiving it willingly, guiltily.

He gasped, and the last two thrusts were guttural, furious, hard, Peta writhing with ecstasy as he came inside her, sinking as deep and for as long as he could. It was almost a breeding move: calculating, desired, and as he stopped, and hung over her, breathless, she lifted herself up closer and kissed him powerfully.

Sam pulled out, his come stretching out between them momentarily before slipping down onto the sheets, before flopping down next to her and wrapping his arm around her, drawing her close. "That...was..."

"Ja..." Peta breathed. "Das..."

"Always..." Sam said, gazing down at her. His love had not abated. There was a change, though.

"You seemed...almost angry at the end."

"I am angry," he responded, looking away. "I am sorry, I am angry. We could have been doing this for the last few months. We could have been together."

"Sam..." Peta said, gently. "Do you remember what happened after I showed you the poem?"

"Yes," Sam said, almost spitting the words out, "I left to go back to England, then you wanted time apart, just to think. Then that became you just wanted to be friends. Then it was me, on my own, alone, wondering what I did that was so awful, that you picked him over me."

"I did not pick him over you...the timing for us was wrong, it wouldn't have worked," she responded.

"So you went from thinking about breaking up with him, to be with me, to breaking up with me, to stay with him, to now sleeping with me, again, here, in this bed?"

Peta nodded.

"So you don't see how these are mixed signals?"

"They are mixed signals. I am confused. I am torn between the world I have to live in, and the new world I want to live in," she responded. 'You're not helping right now to bring me into the world you want me in..."

"I'm not a toy you can just pick up, message, bring over at your convenience and then put back into a box, onto a shelf, where no one knows about me." Sam's words were bitter. This was the first time Peta had heard him like this.

"Sam..."

"Maybe this was all a mistake." The words slipped out easily.

"No..." Peta said, tugging on his arm. "No, it was never a mistake. Look at me. Look at me!" She said, pulling his face round to meet hers. "I love you. This is real. I haven't stopped thinking about you."

"So why did it end?"

"Because Hans has always been here, supported me, and he is owed better than...this...I need to make things right, and figure this out properly," she said. "I need time. Can you give me time?"

"You asked me that months ago, and what happened after is that you changed your mind," Sam said. "How do I know you won't do that again?"

"Okay, tell me what you want."

Sam sighed. "I want you. That's it. I want to make a life with you. I'm willing to change the entire course of my life, to be with you. I would move here, I would get a job here. They still need architects in Vienna, right?"

"Sam..." Peta was touched.

"I want to have a life with you. Have a family with you. Two kids, maybe an option on a third," and Peta laughed, "One boy, one girl. I want to build us a home, take holidays together, buy presents for the kids, cook us meals, have surprises, laughter, parties, be there for everything...I need this to be more real, and heading in that direction." He hesitated. "Have you got plans for New Year's Eve?"

"Nein".

"Then come to England. Come to London. I'll plan something for us both. Please, come for New Year's."

She gazed up into his blue eyes. Shining, round, hopeful. "I want to say yes...I need to find out what Hans' is planning," she said carefully. "This could be an opportunity to make the change...I can't promise. But I will try," she said, holding him close to her.

Sam nodded, quiet. "Should I go back to my room for the time being then?" He asked. "It's late, and I have to get to the conference in the morning."

Peta didn't want him to go, but her hesitation in responding led him to throw the sheet off, and step out of the bed, heading for the door. "Sam..." she called after him, but he was already down the stairs, and pulling out wet wipes and kitchen towel to clean up their mess.

She pulled on a gown, and walked down to the kitchen slowly, watching him from the stairs finish cleaning the tiles. "I didn't mean for you to go," she said, and Sam looked up at her. He shrugged.

"You say one thing, and do another, Peta," he said. "We've just had sex. We weren't going to have sex, it was a step too far for you, it was cheating...then..." he blushed, madly, "Then you strip naked, put my tip in...and we have some of the best sex we've ever had..." He looked at her hopefully.

"Ja, it was," Peta said, smiling. "Although you could have done more for me..." she said, poking her tongue out at him. "Come back to bed Sam. Come back to me. Let's not waste the time we have now...together."

Sam looked at her with longing, then shook his head. "Look, I can't keep repeating myself. I'll finish up here, and I'll look for a hotel tomorrow for the rest of the conference."

Peta looked hurt. "You can stay here," she protested. "Honestly, it's fine. Please Sam," she said. "At least sleep on it."

"Okay," Sam replied. He turned to throw the spent kitchen towels in the bin, before grabbing his clothes from the floor, and tried to walk with some dignity down to the basement rooms. Naked, his near flaccid dick swung with every step, and Peta watched with amusement as he tried to cover up before heading down the steps at the end of the hall, and out of sight.

It had been about an hour since they had parted in the living room, and Peta, lonely in her bed, looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. It ticked, pendulum swinging back and forth, the second hand a quiet drummer observing her sadness. It shouldn't be like this.

She gathered herself, pulling the covers off, and stepped down from the bed. She slipped into her gown, and walked, barefoot, through the house, gingerly walking across the frozen tiles of the kitchen, across the shag pile rug of the living room, before tip-toeing downstairs to the basement rooms.

Sam's door was ajar, and she could hear him, snoring, peacefully. She peered round the door. The bedside light was on. He had been reading through his notes for the conference. She sidled in, and carefully climbed into bed with him, putting his notes on the table, turning out the light, and cuddling up to him.

Sam murmured something in his sleep, and turned over, pulling her to his chest. Peta smiled, and rested her head on him, closing her eyes.

It didn't feel like it had been a six hour sleep. Peta felt Sam's arms gently lift her from the bed, carrying her back to her own bed. She pretended to still be asleep as he climbed the stairs, crossed the living room, and carried her up the next set of stairs (pausing halfway up for breath. He was fit, but maybe not that fit).

Sam carefully sidled through Peta's open door, and gently positioned her onto her own bed. Peta, keeping her eyes closed, gratefully curled up under her duvet, stirring for him as he sat next to her, gently stroking her hair. "I have to go to my conference, Peta," he said gently. "I'll call for a taxi soon."

"Nein..." Peta said sleepily. "Give me zen minutes...I will drive you there."

"Are you sure?"

"Ja, I am sure." She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling. "Maybe you can climb in here with me and wake me up some more..." she said, drawing the duvet back over here.

"Peta, I haven't got time," Sam protested, as Peta began to slip her gown off, the straps hanging around her elbows as she teased her breasts, with hints of nipple beneath the purple silk.

"Your mouth says nein but your eyes say ja..." she said, pulling the gown down to her midriff, her breasts bouncing a little as she lifted her arms into the air. "Oh, and your dick says ja, too..." she said, playfully grabbing the front of his jeans. Sam stiffened a little, he couldn't deny he was aroused.

"Peta..."

"Sam...", she said, quietly, seductively. "At least promise you will come back this evening, ja?"

He looked into her eyes. He searched them with his own. "Okay, I will come back tonight," Sam said.

Peta reached out, and took his hand. "I could pick you up later too?" She said hopefully. Sam nodded and smiled. "Give me a little time to freshen up, and I'll drive you now."

"Danke," he said, getting up to leave.

Sam leant against the wall by the front door. Peta was taking a bit longer than he'd have liked, but he couldn't complain when she emerged, bouncing down the stairs, wearing her favourite white top matched with jeans and her silver trainers. "Ready?" He asked, as she grabbed her old puffy ski jacket.

"Ja ja, I just wanted to put on some makeup," she said, pulling him towards her for a kiss. He kissed her, and looked at her, frowning. "Sam..." Peta sighed, "Don't make this complicated this morning. Talk about it tonight, okay?" He nodded, and beckoned her to the door.

***

She'd dropped him off at the conference centre, and then parked the Ford near the rose garden before heading out for a coffee. She wasn't required to be in any lectures that day, so she had time to lounge around and read her instruction manuals and flight scenarios. The winter sun was lovely and Peta enjoyed the solitude, sitting outside the cafe and just doing what she wanted to do.

It was an awfully big thing in her mind. Family. Kids. Domestic life. Peta felt a bit wound up by Sam's words. Yes, she got it, he had the whole happy ever after thing in his head. What about her? She wasn't ready.

Would he expect her to stop her career? Give up on flying? For all she disliked about the arrangement with Hans, he had always supported her in wanting to be a pilot. She wasn't sure Sam would be the same, if he was already in the mindset of babies and family holidays.

Actually, there was something else that irritated her. It was the thought of the "option on a third". Her body wasn't a baby factory where you could turn the manufacturing process on and off at the touch of a switch. Option on a third? What a ridiculous thing to say.

The more she thought about it, the more annoyed at Sam she became. Build us a home? What about what she wanted out of a home? The house her parents had left her needed work, of course, but it was in a perfect position in the mountains overlooking Vienna. She didn't want to leave it.

Then in her head, the question came. Was he the one, or was he the one right now? Was this just a lustful back and forth, or something more. The something more seemed to be fading in her head as she worked through Sam's words, over and over.

By the time she'd finished her coffee, Peta was thoroughly annoyed at Sam. They'd been having fun, and now she was contemplating two different lives, but neither one seemed to give her the choices she wanted. Sam was talking about marriage and the rest far too quickly. Far, far too quickly. That actually gave her anxiety, the idea of having to say "yes".

Then a voice reminded her how she felt when she stood next to him. She put her hand to her chest. Even thinking about Sam sent her heart racing. This couldn't be faked...she wasn't lying to herself...there was something here she could not explain.

His eyes, his beautiful blue eyes...the way he looked into hers when he hung over her, in bed, kissing her, caressing her...the way he pulled her closer in public. Those little moments where his hand would absentmindedly grab hers...every single thing he said in that accent of his! Even the less sexy bits, she thought, with a little laugh.

He made her feel...something she couldn't rationalise. It wasn't just attraction, though she had to admit, it was a big part of it. Was it safety?

Oh god, did he remind her of her late vater? Dark, handsome, engineering minded, constantly fixing things...she searched her feelings. Yes, maybe there was an element of that...but, no, not in a weird way. Actually, that was comforting too. Peta put her hand to her temple. She was starting a headache. Self inflicted, again. Over thinking all of this, so much.

One of the cafe's waitresses came past and Peta tapped her, asking for the bill. It was time to get back to home, finish her reading and maybe sleep in the afternoon. She had a lot to wanted to talk to Sam about later.

***

"What do I do?" Sam said, and his colleagues all collectively shrugged.

"I think you're mad to want to try long distance anything," Paul said, patting him on the back sympathetically. "If she's not willing to take the extra step, then I'd say let it peter out..."

Sam groaned, and gave him a look. "That was a pun, right?"

"Guilty as charged," Paul said. "Gets the point across, no?"

"Yes," Sam said, "it does."

"I don't know. I think it's romantic." Noor piped up. She looked round the group. "What? I would kill for a man to be this dedicated to me. Love is so rare, you guys," she said, grabbing another spring roll, "Don't listen to them Sam, you do what you need to. It sounds like you think she's the one."

"She is the one." The words were easy. So easy.

"Well then," Noor threw her arms wide, crunching on the roll, "why is this is even a debate with us? Your mind's made up. Go propose."

"He absolutely should not do that," Ferry said, shaking his head.

"Monogamy is overrated," yawned Paul, "I prefer the approach of finding the most beautiful architects at a conference, getting into their lobby, leaving them a nice surprise and then high tailing it out of the building and back to my own country."

"PAUL," Noor said, disgusted.

"I am not going to apologise for art," Paul said, turning his head and checking out a tall redheaded woman stepping past in heels, "Sam, you do what you want to do. And I am going to do...her," and he walked away, greeting the redhead and trying to drum up a conversation with her.

"Why do we hang out with him?" Sam asked.

"He normally picks up the tab," Ferry said, shaking his head again. "I do not know how he does it. Look, that's actually a miracle, he's got her number. I'm sure of it...nope, wait." The redhead had slapped him, and walked away.

"Paul, you really have to get a grip," Noor said, as their red faced colleague returned to their corner of the conference room, "you're going to get a reputation."

"As it turns out," Paul said, "I already had a reputation: because I slept with her last month in Munich and never called her again."

They all groaned. "Words fail me," Sam said. He turned to Ferry. "Sorry old boy," he said, putting on his poshest accent, "but I think my mind's made up, what ho. Proposal it is!"

"Yay!" Noor said, clapping, and jumping up and down.

"Booooo," said Ferry, disapprovingly.

"Is that boooo, or Boo-urns?" Paul said. Nobody paid him any further attention. "It was an old reference anyway," he muttered, to no one in particular.

"I think I am going to get her to drop some hints about a ring," Sam said to Noor. "Like, just get a feel for what she wants, and then get it made up back home. We have this amazing ring shop back home in London where my dad had my mum's ring made."

"It's a good idea, but be subtle. I know you don't like subtle, but be subtle," Noor advised. "Like, if you pass a jewellery shop, don't just point her at the engagement rings section and say "which one do you like", that would be so obvious what you're doing."

"Uh huh," Sam said, mentally taking notes.

"Oh! Also, she might not have thought about this before. Actually, have you spoken about it at all with her?" Noor asked.

"I told her last night how I felt, and she did everything in her power to keep me in the house, and make sure I come back tonight," Sam said. "I think she's also keen, but the whole Hans engagement thing..."

"Does she ever wear a ring?"

"I've never seen her wearing one," Sam said uncertainly. He did remember seeing a ring box on her dresser a few months back.

"Look, you're breaking up a long standing arrangement between two people who are definitely not in love," Noor said. "Why is she even with him?"

"Their mothers arranged it after her father died, I think," Sam said. "It was a way to keep everyone happy, they wanted to make sure Hans married someone of good quality and Irene wanted her daughter to be looked after.

"Wait, have you met Irene?" Noor asked.

"Yes. It was really sweet actually. She didn't know it, and I didn't either, but I helped her get up when she fell in the hotel where Peta and I first met," he replied, thinking back to the elderly blonde woman slipping on the wet floor. "I helped her to the bar, got her an ice pack, and that's when she said her daughter was on the beach enjoying the sun."

"So she sent you to go and get her...?" Noor asked.

Sam paused. "No, she just said where Peta was...I don't know...maybe?" It seemed unlikely. Particularly given the rest of that holiday where he and Peta had snuck around, doing their thing, whilst their families stayed relatively out of it.

"Sam, it sort of sounds that way," Ferry said, "Maybe she saw something in you?"

"Nah. No. Can't be," Sam said, dismissing it. "That would be wild, given everything else I know about the engagement to Hans now."

"It doesn't matter, to be fair," Noor said. "You just need to go and do your thing Sam. I believe in you!"

"Thanks Noor," he replied, but Paul and Ferry were laughing. "What?"

"It's just...it's a ridiculous situation," Paul said. "She's engaged, and you're going to propose to her. It'll all end in tears, mark my words. MARK. MY. WORDS." He picked up his glass from the table next to them. "I am going to go drink that particular sorrow away."

"Sorrow?"

"When a man decides that he's only going to fuck one woman for the rest of his life, it's a sorrowful moment for me," Paul replied, walking away. The rest of the group groaned and gave scathing looks in his direction.

"Sorry for him, Noor," Sam said. "It can't be pleasant hearing all that."

"You really need to tell him to stop watching that bloody show - what was it?" Ferry asked.

"How I did your mother?" Sam suggested.

"MET. MET YOUR MOTHER. Jeez guys," Noor complained, "at least get it right. God. So disrespectful."

"Sorry. Again." Sam and Ferry muttered.

***

"Thanks for picking me up," Sam said to her, as they walked along the street.

"It's fine. Your friends seem...nice," Peta said, stopping to look at the display in one of the shop windows.

"Colleagues, but yeah...sorry about Paul. It's like...uh..."

"Who hurt you, little man?" Peta said, and they both fell about laughing.

"I am not sorry about your reaction to his comments", Sam said. "He was out of line, I apologise for that."