When it was over I felt guilty about how far we had gone. On my coitus scale, there's "making love" then there's "having sex" then there's "fucking" then there's "sexual battery." We'd just been barely shy of battery. But Sam got what she was after. By the time we were done, she felt like she was mine. And that's what mattered.

"Okay down there?" I asked softly.

"Perfect," Sam cooed, "Heather must have warned you."

"Yeah," I said sheepishly.

When we'd caught our breath, I looked down at Sam and said what was on my mind as delicately as I could manage: "Sam, do you want to get married?"

"Huh?"...