Getting to Now Him Better

Another installment of Tom and Liz. This happens much earlier in their relationship than The Phone Call.

This is a stand-alone narrative that is part of a much larger story. I appreciate the feedback I have received so far!

*

"So," she said, looking across the table at Tom while eating a mouthful of pizza, "tell me about your family."

"Sure." He looked a little surprised. "What brought this up?"

"I figured enough time has passed." She smiled at his confused look. "I needed to wait long enough after taking advantage of you that first time. If I started asking really personal questions right away after that, it would have seemed very stalker-esque."

Tom chuckled. "So, now you figured I've let my guard down? Two can play that game. How about you tell me about your family?"

Liz laughed. "Absolutely. But you go first. I'm all ears."

Tom told Liz about his parents and siblings in Minnesota. He was the oldest, named after his father, who had grown up in eastern Canada. Liz laughed when he slipped into an imitation of his dad, "'For the love of all that's holy, Tommy, it's a sweater, not a jersey!'" The next child was his brother, younger by two years, followed by three sisters, the youngest being only 20 years old and still in college. "Full ride scholarship at UConn. She's brilliant," he bragged. His brother and one sister were married, so there were already twin nephews and a niece. "I don't get to see them much, but mom sends pictures. They're still too little to be skating yet." Liz laughed, and translated in her head that none of them were old enough to walk. She was watching and listening, occasionally asking a prompting question to keep the information flowing. Tom was exuding joy talking about his family, and she was soaking it up like she was basking in the sun. It was wonderful.

After a while, Tom stopped, and said, "OK, enough. What about you?"

She smiled, and said, "Not nearly as much fun. Parents deceased many years now. One heart attack, one complications from long term illness. One older brother, currently incarcerated for at least six more years for federal narcotics violations, among other things. We were never close to begin with; clearly less so now." She reached across the table to take his hand; his face looked stricken, as she had expected. "Please don't be sorry. You know my chosen family quite well. Nick and Paige are family to me. I've got a great life, Tom, and I'm really happy. I promise."

Tom looked at her closely. She was smiling, showing every sign of being completely serious. "That's why you wanted me to go first."

She brightened, pleased that he understood. "Yes! You would have changed the way you told me about your family if you had heard my story first, and I would have missed out. I loved watching you talk about them. It's like I got to sneak in and share your joy." She paused. "Yikes, does that sound stalker-y?"

Tom laughed. "No, it's not entirely creepy." He winked. "Just a little creepy."

"Joy is wonderful that way," she said, with a slightly faraway look. "It doesn't diminish with sharing. If something wonderful happens for my friend, I can jump in and surf on their happiness. Nothing has been taken away from me. More happiness for them doesn't mean less for me. It's not like pie." She looked back at Tom, coming back into focus. She put her hands on the table, stood up, smiled, and said, "So, do you want pie?"

Tom realized that he was staring at her. Again. Because she had caught him completely off guard. Again. "Do you really feel that way? About happiness?"

She blinked, and said, "Of course. Jealousy is a whole lot of work. It's much easier to mooch off of the happiness of my friends if they've got extra floating around when I'm a little short. At heart I'm terribly lazy." She winked at him playfully.

"I have not noticed laziness," he said. His eyes were taking on a different look as he stood up and walked over to her. "So far you have seemed very... industrious. Enthusiastic, even." He was standing over her, very close, looking down. His height and size were intoxicating to Liz. He ran his hand up her arm, and then tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were gorgeous, thickly framed with dark lashes, and Liz felt her heart start to race just from looking at him. The corner of his mouth was curled up in a half smile, playful and sweet.

"I don't know how you do that to me," she whispered.

"Do what?" he asked, still smiling that half smile. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek.

"Make me forget everything with a look," she said, closing her eyes, and turning her face towards his caress. She opened one eye to peek back up at him under her lashes, and then closed it again and sighed.

Tom bent down and kissed her gently. And one kiss became two, and two became too many to count. Tom pulled back and chuckled deep in his chest. He cupped her face in his hands, and said, "I don't know how you do that to me, Liz."

"Do what?" she asked, still smiling from their kisses.

"Make me forget everything with a kiss," he said. "I might as well be 18 again whenever I touch you."

"Really?"

"Really. I intended to give you one quick kiss that first night." His voice got husky. "Just one. But I couldn't do it. One wasn't enough. One is never enough with you."

"I really hope you don't have any place you need to be real soon." She ran her hand slowly up the inside of his thigh.

He closed his eyes, and his voice was considerably lower when he said, "Me, too, because I have no fucking idea about anything besides where your hand is right now."

"This hand?" He growled. She squeezed gently. "Or this hand?" She added her other hand, and squeezed gently with that one. He growled louder.

He put his head down and spoke into her hair, breathing hard. "Do you want to go to the bedroom?"

She unbuttoned his pants and he heard the zipper. And then his breath caught as he heard her say, "No, I don't think so."

Liz pushed him gently backward until he was leaning against the counter. He was so gorgeous. Impossibly so. And she had never gotten a good, proper look at all of him. It was time to change that. She pulled the t-shirt up as far as she could and let him finish taking it off. She ran her hands over his chest, through the soft hair, touching every muscle. She brought her hands down his strong arms, and kissed and bit softly along his chest and stomach as she intertwined their fingers. And then she traced the trail of hair that began at his navel and down into his shorts.

She pushed his shorts down over his hips and to the floor, and stood back to look at him. He was in boxer briefs, with his erection barely contained. She stepped forward again, sliding her fingers under the waistband of his underwear, and brushed the tip of his erection. He twitched, and hissed in his breath, and she felt the moisture that had already gathered. She pulled the waistband away from his body so there would be room to release him, and pushed down. She knelt down as she dragged his underwear down to his feet, taking her time looking as she went.

His breathing was deep and measured, and when she looked up she saw that he was watching her carefully, hands gripping the edge of the counter. "You look amazing." Liz leaned in and kissed and placed little bites at his hips, while drawing one hand back up his inner thigh teasingly. Looking back up at him again, she cradled him in her palm, rolling her fingers gently, enjoying both the feel and the look on his face. She put her other hand flat on his abdomen, just under his navel, and moved down, and then around until the skin between her thumb and forefinger was cradling the base of his shaft. Tom made a groaning sound. She slid that cradle upward the entire length of him, watching she went, tilting her head as though simply looking on this part of him in wonder.

When she began using her hand to spread his slickness over him, Tom's knees shook. He took a gasping breath, and moaned, "Oh, Christ, Liz. Please."

She looked up, met his eye, and kept eye contact as she took him in her mouth.

Tom wasn't sure he was going to live through this, much less continue to stand upright. He tried to hold himself still, allowing her to control everything, but he after a while of receiving her attention he felt his hips begin shifting in rhythm with her movements, and felt pressure building.

When he suddenly felt cool air rather than warm mouth, he was certain he wasn't going to live through it. His heart was pounding and every nerve ending was screaming for release. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please, Liz." His voice was strained and rasping.

He felt her gently pull his right hand away from its death grip on the edge of the counter. "Open your eyes." She was standing in front of him, bare from the waist up, holding his hand in both of hers. Kneeling down in front of him, she brought his hand and carefully wrapped it around his erection. "Tom." Her voice was throaty, and her eyes were dark. "I want to watch. Please."

"Oh, God." He couldn't have stopped himself even if he had wanted to. "Oh, Liz." He wasn't going to last more than a few more strokes.

The sound he made at climax had become her favorite sound in the world the very first time she heard it. It was the most deeply male sound she could have ever imagined. Tonight he had yelled her name while making that sound; it had been erotic beyond reason. Watching the entire event had been exquisite. The fact that somewhere in the middle of talking with him tonight she had realized beyond doubt that she was in love with him had made the entire thing so much better. And so much worse.

Tom sank to the floor to sit with her, every part of him shaking. He stared at her for a few minutes, breathing hard, at a loss for words. He put his head down on his knees, still breathing hard. She sat, arms crossed on her knees, chin resting on her arms, just watching him.

He finally looked up at her, and she smiled. He looked bewildered, and sleepy, and adorable. His voice was gravelly and rough. "I don't even know what to say."

"Good or bad?"

"Good. Very, very good. I need to sleep on your floor good."

"My bed is more comfortable."

He smiled that smile through half-lidded eyes. "Your bed seems really far away right now."