Samson could feel that thumb burning on his bare skin, felt jolts being shot right to his home entertainment center. Damn. He turned around, knowing that would make him swerve right back into Vincent's arms, except now he would be facing him.
Shrewd, dark eyes looked up at the taller man, and Samson grinned. "Same," he said. "Small town. Hence the need to escape."
Samson's hand reached up, steadying himself up against Vincent's strong frame. He grinned. "You really don't leave a bad impression, do you? No thick Jersey accent, no trying to fish some money out of me... Even that facial hair looks good on you." The grin turned into a smirk. "The perfect seducer. You've almost got me entertaining the perverse thought of turning you down."