Tied to Sam Ch. 02

'I didn't think it'd feel this different,' I say, my voice shaking.

Sam can only grunt in reply, reaching for me, urging me down to kiss him, his eyes dark and deep again, his fingers digging into my hips, lining us up together. I inhale in anticipation, starting to pull my hips up higher.

And that's when it happens. The loudest thumping on the front door I've ever heard. It makes both of us jump and jerk into each other.

'Shit!' Sam's hissing as the thumping persists, almost shaking the windows out of their frames.

Gingerly I get off Sam's lap, walk over to the windows and look out.

'Oh hell. It's the police. What do they want this time?' I pull at my skirt. 'I'll have to go down to see what they want,' I say to Sam, who's rubbing his hand over his mouth and straightening himself up.

'Wait. Cora, wait! Don't go down on your own,' but I'm already gone, running down the stairs to get the door before they break it down.

'Do you live here, miss? Is there anyone else in the house?'

A tall black copper is doing all the talking, but he's just one of four of them - Armed Response, by the look of them and their guns.

'Umm - yes. Yes - my boyfriend is in.'

I see the copper's eyes flick over my head to where I assume Sam is now visible on the stairs behind me.

'No-one else in?'

I shake my head, and then he's explaining he needs to come through the house to the garden at the back. He doesn't say why, but I assume they're still looking for whoever drove that van into the phone box, so I step to one side and watch as they lumber down the hall.

'Is the back door locked, love? Have you got the keys?'

I follow them into the kitchen, retrieve the key from the shelf and unlock the back door for them. I hear Sam asking what's up, and then the blond copper who was last into the house is telling Sam we need to leave for a while, and to go fetch what we might need - money, keys, that sort of thing. Sam strides back up the stairs, and I follow, clutching my skirt to my legs. He's picking up his wallet and holding my bag out to me when I get in the room. I scan the floor.

'Where are my knickers, Sam?' but of course, he's just grinning at me, thinking it's the funniest thing I can't find them.

No matter how much I beg him, hissing under my breath, he's propelling me out of the room and down the stairs, only stopping to check I've got the house keys in my bag, before pushing me out onto the street. Which seems to be full of police, and people like us, being herded out of their houses and down towards the corner shop at the end of the road.

'I can't believe I'm out here without any knickers on,' I'm muttering, feeling a bit furious, but Sam's barking out a laugh and grabbing onto my hand with his.

'No-one can tell,' he says, his eyes full of laughter.

'Do you think those coppers knew what they were interrupting?'

'Uh, duh, yes! That blond one practically gave me a wink and a nudge as we left the house.'

'Oh no,' I cringe.

Sam bats at my ear with his hand.

'Man up, Cora, it's nothing to be ashamed of!'

'That's all very well for you to say, but you're not the one out in public without any knickers on.'

We stand with all the other neighbours from the street, listening to them speculate about what's going on. After about fifteen minutes of inconclusive chat, an officer ambles up to us and suggests we go find a caff to sit in until they're done. But the return of the helicopter is a distraction.

We turn to watch as it hovers, lowers down over the street until it seems like it's going to land on the chimney pots. I clutch at my skirt, images of dramatic downdrafts and flying fabric filling my mind. Sam's chuckling again as he pulls me further down the street towards the row of shops there, until he's crowding me into a doorway, penning me in with his long arms and legs.

'Sam?'

He looks like he's about to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he hugs me tightly.

'Sam?' my voice muffled as he presses me into his chest.

I'm surprised. He doesn't do this often. He might show me exactly how he feels in private, but he rarely goes for public displays of affection. Not Sam. He's actually pretty shy about that sort of thing. So I'm most definitely surprised that he's pressing into me, kissing my neck, here in broad daylight not a hundred yards away from about twenty of Manchester's finest police officers. I wriggle as his hands play around my ribs and hips.

'Sam?'

'Cora, you made me feel so good just now. You're amazing.'

'Oh Sam.'

'I missed you.'

'I know,' I soothe him, stroking his back. 'Me too. Tons.'

'I don't want to be apart from you for that long again, C. It was horrible.'

My heart squeezes to hear his voice dip like that, and I tighten my arms around him. It's so good to feel him again. Sweet Sam.

When he raises his head and loosens his hold of me, he looks a bit taken aback, as if he'd forgotten we were standing in a doorway in the street.

'C'mon, let's get a drink, or something,' I say, pulling at him, and am again surprised when he takes my hand and holds it as we walk down the road. Warmth shoots up my arm and into my body, and I tighten my fingers around his.

'Caff or pub?' I ask.

'Dunno. What are we going to do later?'

I tip my head to one side.

'Well, there's no food in the house, so we either get a takeaway or eat out.'

'Where's Kam?'

Everyone else has moved out of the house except Kam. He's stayed behind with me to clean up and check out with the landlord tomorrow.

'Hmm - I'll check. He might be out with Josh tonight.'

I pull out my phone to message him.

'What's going to happen with those two?'

'Kam and Josh? I think they're going to do the long distance thing. Until Josh gets a job in London.'

Sam's hand twitches in mine. And my phone lights up.

'Huh, Kam says he's here.'

Just as I say that, I hear him calling to us both. He greets Sam, clapping his back and asking how the drive up here was, then explains how he's just been turned back from our street, the police still busy there, apparently. We speculate about what's going on and I tell him about the van on Wilmslow Road and having to walk most of the way home. By the time we've caught up with each other, we're sitting down in the greasy spoon caff with big mugs of steaming hot tea, watching Kam as he stirs unfeasible amounts of sugar into his.

'How are you not big as a house?' I tease him.

He flashes his perfect teeth at me. Kam's a very good looking Asian rich boy, totally different to me and Sam - brought up in a posh suburb of north London, the first-born of a lively, loud extended family that seems to count in the hundreds. He was almost the first person I spoke to in Fresher's Week, had the room next door to mine in halls and, despite our differences, we've stayed firm friends ever since.

'Lots of exercise,' he offers, pulling a face that leaves none of us in any doubt what kind of exercise he means.

'Kam,' I chide, but recall then that I'm the one sitting here without any knickers on.

I suspect Sam of having the same thought, as I feel his hand land on my thigh under the table. I know I'm blushing already, unable to stop the memory of Sam's bared body flooding my mind. Kam, never one to miss much, flicks his eyes from my face down to where Sam's arm disappears into my lap, and raises his eyebrows.

'So - you two happy to see each other, are you?'

'Kam!' I feel as though I'm about to burn up.

'What? Just an innocent question, girlfriend.'

But he's fluttering his eyelashes at us in the least innocent way possible. To my surprise, Sam chokes with laughter next to me, and I turn to look at him, even more surprised at how his eyes seem locked with Kam's, sharing the joke.

'What?'

Kam shakes his head.

'Cora, you forget I know what both of you look like after you've been at it. We've shared a house for the last year, remember? Anyway, you'd be raving mad not to have stripped and fucked this handsome boy stupid as soon as he got in the door.'

Now I'm the one laughing and Sam's doing the blushing. He looks so cute when he goes pink like that. Although he absolutely hates being called cute. But he just is.

Kam's phone lights up with a message and he picks it up; peers at it.

'You need glasses, Kam. You squint like an old man,' I offer, but he ignores me.

'Do you fancy an early dinner with us, then? Josh is working at the casino tonight but can meet us in about an hour or so. Or do you two have too much unfinished business to attend to?'

I look at Sam, thinking I know what he'll say. He's always hungry. Just then, a copper walks into the caff, announces that our road is open now and any residents should come with her to make sure they can get back into their houses ok. We follow her back to our street, find another copper standing outside our house, waiting to make sure we're the genuine residents, checking our keys and assuring us nothing has been touched inside.

'Well that was weird,' I say, as we stand in the kitchen together, wondering if they caught the fleeing driver or not.

'I'm going to have a shower,' Sam's muttering, pulling at his shirt as he walks out and up the stairs, Kam's big brown eyes following his every move.

I hold up my hand.

'Don't say another word, Kam,' I warn, knowing it's futile.

'Your boyfriend is so fucking hot,' he grins at me, defiant. 'And I don't know what you were doing to him earlier, but he can't tear his eyes off you.'

I groan, bury my face in my hands.

'Hey, Cora, I'd give anything for a man to look at me like that,' Kam says, sounding surprisingly serious.

Huh. I drop my hands.

'Go find him in the shower, go on. Josh'll be here in a minute to keep me warm. Go on! The sooner you two get cleaned up, the sooner we can stuff our faces with mountains of curry.'

+++

And, stuff our faces with curry we do. It's what Rusholme is famous for, after all, and I get a pang of regret that I'm leaving Manchester after three good years here. It's not that I want to stay, exactly, but for the most part, it's been good to live here; somewhere different to London, anyway.

I'm sitting opposite Sam and next to Josh. I watch Sam eating. I love how he eats with such absorption. He catches me staring at him and gives me a quick grin. And nudges me with his leg under the table.

'Oh my God, you two. That shower wasn't cold enough, obviously.'

'Shut up Kam,' I say, but I'm not cross at him.

I'm too delighted to have Sam so close to be cross at anything.

'So, you're driving down to London tomorrow?' Josh asks me, pushing his glasses up his nose.

I nod. 'I can't believe it's really here. I thought three years was going to be such a long time, and now, suddenly, here we are.'

'Yeah, the real world is upon us,' Kam agrees.

'When do you start your job, Cora?' Josh asks me.

'Not until the middle of August,' I say, suddenly feeling as if time is stretched out in front of me like a happy invitation.

'What are your plans?'

'Well, we're going to finally paint Sam's bedroom,' I offer.

We'd intended on doing that last summer but, well, we got side tracked. What can I say? We'd found better things to do with our energy. And part of me still didn't want to cover up the words Sam had painted for me one night, there on the wall over his bed.

'How noble. But you're going on holiday first, aren't you, to - Greece - is it?'

'Portugal. Just a week, but a bit of real sunshine will be good.'

'Sam, mate, do us all a big favour and pop the question while you're out there, will you? I've never seen her more miserable than these last few weeks without you, and there's no-one more deserving to be made an honest woman than Cora.'

My mouth drops wide open.

'Kam, you can't say that sort of thing,' Josh reprimands him, scowling.

Even the couple at the table next to us turn to stare.

And what is that look on Sam's face? He's partially turned to look at Kam, his lips parted, his throat pinking up. Shocked. Yes, definitely a look of shock. But I can't make out what else is playing over his features - panic, dismay, disappointment? I cough, and shovel more chicken biryani onto my plate.

'What? Come on, don't look at me like that,' Kam's protesting at Josh and they trade more words between them that float over my head because I can't seem to hear anything.

Sam turns back and looks down at his plate, lifting another forkful to his mouth. Then raises his eyes to me and gives me a small wink. I smile back, equally weakly, but relieved he's able to look at me at all. Even if his expression is still unreadable.

'I'm just saying - Cora?'

I look over at Kam, his words making it through my skull.

'I'm just saying, how else is your mum going to let you stay over at Sam's without you being married? I mean, she thinks you're still a God-fearing virgin, doesn't she?'

I look skyward, wishing I'd mastered the skill of invisibility. True, I've not told mum any different. And although she knows me and Sam have become more than just friends, I haven't confided in her more than that. Not sure I can cope with a discussion on the topic of my sex life. But because she works nights at the hospital, me and Sam have so far managed to work around the issue. Even my little sister Alice hasn't yet informed on us to mum.

'That's not really a good enough reason to get married, though, is it?' Sam sips from his glass, looking unbelievably calm.

'So you're going to screw up your courage and tell your mum you're doing the dirty out of wedlock, then? Unless Sam has already told her?' Kam adds slyly.

Suddenly Sam doesn't look so calm anymore. I think about the number of times he's driven my mum down to see Mary over the last year - plenty of times when I've been up here in Manchester. Would he have said anything like that to her? He's always seemed a bit afraid of her, ever since she practically warned him off me when we were teenagers. I can't imagine him raising the subject with her.

'On my life, Kam, I'm going to kill you if you don't stop talking about this,' I warn him.

I must have got through, as Kam nods, mouths 'sorry' at me and shrugs apologetically. We variously swallow beer or chew food in silence. I glance up at the couple on the next table and am relieved they're at least pretending to be enthralled by their own dinner now.

And then Sam's leg is nudging mine under the table again. He's chewing on another mouthful of food, his eyes steady on me, looking calm as can be. Huh. Maybe I'm the one being over-sensitive?

+++

We're leaving the curry house when Kam slings his arm over my shoulder and apologises again.

'Sorry, Cora. My mouth runs away with me, you know how I am. I didn't mean to make things awkward between you and Sam. The opposite.'

'I know, Kam. But you do have a bloody idiotic mouth sometimes, you know?'

'Sorry,' he cinches my shoulders in a fierce hug, then releases me.

'We need to get off now,' Josh slows down as we reach a bus stop. 'I have to change before going into work, and Big Mouth here is staying at mine tonight,' he jerks his thumb in Kam's direction. 'So, Cora, Sam - see you down in That Big London Town then, sometime?'

I hug him, then Kam, doing my best not to get emotional at the thought of our lives in Manchester coming to a close, and watch them do man-style hugs and back slaps with Sam. Who seems to know I need to move quickly, grabbing my hand, surprising me again with that, and we leave the boys waiting for the bus.

It's still light, we ate dinner so early.

'What do you want to do now?' I ask him, trying to get used to him holding my hand like this.

It's not that it's not nice. It is. Especially how he's rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of my hand. It's just unusual. Nice. But unusual.

'Pub? Cinema? It's still pretty early.'

He twists my hand in his, lifting it between us.

'Let's go home, C. Can we?'

There's that drop in his voice. I nearly stop dead in my tracks.

'What is it Sam? What's up?'

'Seven weeks, Cora. Seven really long weeks. Come on, let's go home. I just want to be with you.'

'Ok, Sam.'

+++

I'm thirsty by the time we get back to the house and go straight to the kitchen while Sam deadbolts the door behind us. I'm standing at the sink drinking water when he presses himself into my back, looping his arms around my waist and swaying us both from side to side. I relax into him, feeling some of the stresses of the last few weeks loosen and drop away. He tugs my hair free of the ponytail it's tied up in, musses it with his hand, then pushes it to one side. Fearless with this black girl's hair, he is. I drop my head forwards and let him touch his lips to my neck, shivering at the first brush, his breath trickling down my neck.

I flush with heat, needing Sam so much I'm already trembling with it. I think some of that unspent energy from earlier is back with a vengeance.

'You alright, Cora?' he whispers, his lips on my ear now.

I nod, not confident of actually speaking out loud. He seems to pause. Then presses me harder to his body.

'You've lost weight, C. I'm going to have to feed you back up.'

His voice is gentle, but the tears spill over my cheeks anyway. He holds me while I cry, sometimes stroking my back or arms, whispering lovely words to me, or sifting his fingers through my hair. I don't know how long it takes for the sadness to abate, but he nurses me through it, somehow knowing it's just something I need to do - to mourn the passing of my college life here.

When I shake it off, straightening my shoulders and rubbing at my face, he asks me again.

'You alright, Cora?'

I nod. This time, more confidently.

'Yes. Thanks -,'

But he cuts me off.

'It's been a lot, hasn't it?'

I nod again as he presses his mouth on the back of my neck, warm and comforting.

That's all it takes for me to prickle with heat again.

I exhale, reaching my arms up to loop around the back of Sam's head. His breath catches noisily in his throat as he lurches us both forwards, pressing me up against the sink cabinet. Then stops. Perhaps waiting to see how I react; if I really am ok now. I arch my back, wiggling my bum up against him. More sounds escape from Sam, halfway between a laugh and a groan, his arm curling around me, brushing over my breasts.

His kisses shift from comforting to provocative. I bend my neck more, closing my eyes to better concentrate on the feel of him, pressing my hands to the back of his head. He thumbs over my breast, my nipple rising to his touch through my clothing, hardening more each time he rubs over it. When he pinches it, I gasp; almost giggle.

'Nice?' his lips tickling my skin as he teases me.

I shake my head, laughing, trembling, unable to stop the electricity chasing around my body.

'Shit, Sam -,' I start to protest, but stop, my breath snatched away as his hand slides under my skirt, pushing up against my underwear and curving around my bottom.

I push back onto his hand, wanting it. Rotate my hips, tempting him. His hand fits between my legs and I jerk backwards as his fingers curl up into me. His first touch always does that to me. He presses his mouth to the back of my neck; still and quiet.

'C'mon Cora, let's go upstairs. We don't need to rush.'

He steps back, tugging at my arms until I turn to follow him up the stairs.

He sits on the edge of the bed.

'Although I suppose we didn't need to come up here right away, as we've got the house to ourselves, don't we?'

He looks a bit - what? I don't know and give up trying. Even now, a year later, I still find it fascinating how he slips between being the best friend I grew up with and the sexy man I've discovered him to be. I sigh, casting my eyes around my room. The bare walls, empty shelves and boxes stacked up all over the floor.