This chapter contains smut, fluff and angst. If I did my job properly, you will feel angry, weepy and turned on. I'm sorry, but not really.
Tom and I made good on our promises from that night. We fucked each other into sweet oblivion on an almost daily basis. He didn't broach the subject of his feelings for me. Each time my fight or flight instinct kicked in, I stayed. Sometimes shaking from the effort, but I didn't run from him.
After the night we spent in his flat where he indeed ripped my cocktail dress from my body, clawing at the straps until they gave way, Tom escorted me home. It had been days and he hadn't left to return to his place, save for a single trip to gather some clothing and other essentials.
"You're like a sweet little stray pup who's followed me home," I had teased him.
He had bitten his lip and growled at me, crawling over my body, tickling my ribs.
"I only ended up here because I was chasing this kitty," he had joked, squeezing me where my thighs met, his hand over my jeans.
I had sighed, content, "Likely story. I think I'll keep you for my own."
"I'd like that," he had whispered. Then dipping his head, he raised my t-shirt to press open-mouthed kisses down my belly.
It was the closest I had come to telling him that I might love him.
Might was the word that troubled me, it kept me up each night, watching Tom's face as he slept beside me. I memorized each freckle, each line, every pore, hoping that they would spell out an answer. I was certain of Tom worthiness. However, I was much less certain of my ability to house the feeling. He always slept deeply, breathing deep and even. I memorized his face at rest, words swirling around my head.
I might love you, Tom.
Maybe I love you, Tom.
But I'm destroyed inside, broken, and I can't talk about how or why. You could get a better, more sound, love, from someone else.
Why are you still here, Tom?
I need to know.
I might love you.
I wrestled with this, sacrificing my sleep to hash out these questions. Each morning, I rose from bed exhausted, without answers.
I threw myself into finishing up my novel, and Tom prepared for his next role. We worked in tandem, separately, falling into an easy routine. Breakfasts together, time with me in my office and him on the sofa, his script in hand, making notes. Lunches out and in, eaten at my small dinette, on the sofa while each of us continued toiling at our craft, and more than occasionally in bed, where our lunch lasted most of the afternoon and work was forgotten for awhile. Nights together. Dear god, the nights...
I sat opposite Tom on my sofa, in the same corners we did the night he cajoled me into playing Truth or Dare. He was still intently studying his script, looking dangerously fine in sweat pants and a threadbare tee, his feet naked. I was curled in my usual place, bare legs tucked under me, my casual dress bunched high on my thighs.
I was reading the paper, skimming the reviews of novels I wished I had written. I heard Tom shift in his seat.
Looking over the top of the paper at him, I watched as he traced his mouth with his index finger, then stopped, writing a note in the margin. Apparently satisfied with what he had written, he popped the end of the pen between his teeth. I watched as he flicked the pen with his tongue, then returned it to the script, jotting more notes.
Is this what life with Tom would be like? Could I be happy with this?
You're happy now.
I tried the unsaid statement out in my head.
I love you, Tom.
"What's that, love?" he turned his head toward me.
"I didn't say anything."
He returned to the script. I folded up my paper and tossed it on the carpet. Chewing on my lower lip, I slyly worked my bare foot into his lap. He rubbed his large hand down the top of my foot, and let it rest at the ankle, tracing the lines of bone with his fingertips. His eyes stayed at their task, learning lines. Every few moments he would pause and scribble another notation. He tapped the pen on my toes playfully, distractedly even, before running the hard end of the pen up the arch of my foot, causing me to try and retract my leg, squealing . He smiled, held my ankle against his thigh and continued working.
It was easy, effortless.
Could life with Tom be effortless? If I find the strength to lay myself bare to him, would things become convoluted, cursed?
With his eyes on his work, I felt free to watch him, the way he often watched me. I allowed my gaze to roam over his form, not concerned with how my glance could be interpreted. He scratched the side of his neck and his fingers lingered, dipping inside shirt, absently stroking his shoulder and clavicle. He brought his hand slowly down the front of his shirt, and traced the top of my foot once more. The fluid movement was dripping with sensual familiarity. I couldn't keep my foot from reflexively pressing against his resting cock.
The skin around his eyes seized and he cleared his throat.
"Tom?"
"Mmmm?" his eyes didn't leave his task.
My toes curled against his thigh. "When we were apart, you missed me, yes?"
"Like I was struggling for air."
One corner of my mouth raised in a cheeky smirk.
"How did you miss me?"
He scribbled on the script, then repeated my question, confused," How did I miss you?"
"In what sense did you miss me? What did you miss about me?" I pressed my foot against his sleeping cock again, taking pains to be quite deliberate.
His tongue traced the inside of his cheek and he grinned. He was on to me.
"Oh," he began, "I suppose I missed sitting together like this, relaxing."
"Yes?"
"I missed laughing together, and the way you tilt your chin when you try to be intimidating, but just come off as adorable."
"Is that all?"
"No," he pronounced the word carefully, drawing it out. He made another notation in his script.
I pressed against him once more, this time taking care to run the arch of my foot up his hardening length.
He bit back a smile. I didn't often tease him, and he was enjoying this.
"Tom."
"Yes, darling?"
"Look at me."
He raised his head just in time to see me slowly cross one leg over the other. His gaze flickered over my bare legs hungrily before meeting my gaze and adopting a casual tone, "What is it, love?"
I slowly crawled to him. He pulled me onto his lap, sitting on one toned thigh. Palming his jaw gently, I tilted his face to meet mine. "I missed you desperately."
Locking eyes for a long moment, I stroked his neck.
I'm in love with you.
I always have been.
My throat wanted to constrict and my eyes got heated, the simple truth of that statement hit me hard in the solar plexus, robbing me of my breath. I searched his eyes, looking for a safe place there. Somewhere I can kneel down and confess.
Coming up empty, I brought our lips together, taking my time tasting his mouth. One hand cupped the fleshy part of my hip, not grabbing, just holding me there, my legs draped over him, stretched out onto the sofa.
The kiss ran it's course naturally, and we parted, his eyes questioning, my own calm. He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut, thinking better of it. Something shifted in his eye, he grinned.
"So, darling, when we were apart and you were missing me," he cleared his throat, "did it inspire any particular … course of action?"
I laughed lightly. "I'm afraid I was too bereft."
"That is a damn shame."
"What about you?"
"Hmmm? I don't know what you mean."
"You do." I placed my hand at the back of his head, curling my fingers in his hair. I pulled him toward my mouth and whispered into his ear, "Did you stroke your cock and think of me?"
His hips pressed into my thigh, his erection grinding against the bare flesh. He was obviously very aroused, but his voice stayed steady. "A time or two, yes. I felt sort of guilty about it after..."
"Why should you?" I cut him off as my finger toyed with his ear lobe. I didn't want to think about that night, and certainly not now, " Besides, twice? In two and a half weeks? That's hardly..."
"Oh, I thought you were asking me how many times per day."
I tossed my head back and laughed genuinely, the slid my hands under the neck of his shirt smiling, "Well, then yes. That's very naughty."
Tom's tongue darted up to moisten his lips. His voice became low and breathy, "Yes, it was."
"What did you think about?" I dipped my head to place kisses on his neck, moving from his jaw to the vein that ran down the side, before licking my way up passing, over his Adam's apple. His head dropped back, giving me clear access to do as I liked, reveling in the feel of my mouth on him. My hand moved to cup his balls through his sweatpants, and dragging my palm upward, I applied pressure on the length of his cock. I repeated the motion. Cup, press, stroke. Slowly.
He arched his hips, craving more from my hand. "I .. uh.. thought about how beautiful you are when you're naked."
"Yes?"
"And how tight … oh god.. and wet you feel around me when I'm fucking you."
"Anything else?" I was stroking faster now, twisting at the tip, working with his rhythm ask he thrust into my hand while still completely clothed.
"Yes. Your mouth."
"What about it?"
"On me." he gritted.
"Where, Tom? Where do you like my mouth?"
"Fuck." his jaw was clenched. "On my cock."
I stopped stroking, causing him to exhale a breath I didn't know he was holding. "God, you're going to make me come in my pants."
"Is that what you think?" I asked as I made my way to my knees on the floor between his splayed thighs. I tugged on the waistband of his pants and removed them. His cock stood proud and purple with arousal. He was hard and hot and bigger than I had ever seen during our shared history.
I looked up at him, his face raw and needful. We are sharing this moment together, I thought, Tom and me, and it's fucking beautiful. "You're gorgeous, Tom. You do know that. Right? I love y.." I paused then quickly recovered, "your cock."
Something flickered behind his eyes. "Show me."
I flattened my tongue and licked him slowly from base to tip, flicking my tongue over his glistening slit. I sucked at the opening, drawing the dripping fluid into my mouth. I moaned. It was not for show. He tasted delicious.
I followed the trail again, maintaining eye contact. His gaze was heated but restrained. With jaw tight and nostrils flared, his breath was coming in uneven huffs. He opened and closed his fists at his side.
I dropped further down to lap at his balls, and as I traced the lower curve of the sack with a pink pointed tip, they drew up tight against him, the skin seizing. I gently took one in my mouth, rolling my tongue against it and sucking lightly. Next the other. Tom's expression looked almost pained, one eyebrow hitched up, his mouth forming a small oval.
I returned to stroking his shaft with a loose fist, laving at his sack, hungrily nipping at the skin with just my lips.
"Oh, fuck. Darling.."
I arched both brows and rubbed my nose against his flesh there, snaking my tongue beneath, flicking the hot, hairless skin there.
Tom bucked his hips into my hand and I raised my head to cover his cock with my mouth, teasing him first by rubbing against my slack lower lip.
"Please, love. You're killing me.."
Tensing my fist around his girth, I formed a tight seal around my lips and slid down his length as far as I could. Rising back up, I hollowed out my cheeks sucking his cock, swirling my tongue around the crown. I maintained a rhythm, sliding up and down, intent on drawing out his hot cum.
"Oh my god!" Tom's fists tangled to my hair, his neck tight and veiny, jaw clamped shut. "I'm close. I'm so close. Fuck. So close," he spat out.
My free hand went to his balls, cradling them, two fingers drifting lower, to tease that secret spot. I began crooking them hither, coaxing him toward his release.
Once more his hips bucked, and this time with a guttural, incoherent moan, his body tightened and he spilled into my mouth. His taste was salty and sweet and unmistakably unique to him. I drank him like a woman dying of thirst until he was spent.
I placed a small kiss on the underside of his cock, then returned to my place -my place- in his lap. Tom wrapped an arm around me and exhaled completely, still wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling.
"Wow."
"Just like you fantasized about." I teased.
"A thousand times more amazing."
I allowed my fingers to trace his as they rested at my hip, my head tucked in the crook between his neck and shoulder. My place.
Now was as good a time as any.
I opened my lips to speak, but Tom spoke instead.
"So, you know something about me now.. what I think about. Now you tell me." he paused and crooked his neck to see my face, "Do you think about me when you..."
"All the time."
"Well, I told you my fantasy."
"It wasn't exactly shocking Tom."
"Ehehehe, I suppose not. And your fantasy is?"
I could hear the curiosity in his voice even before I lifted my head and saw it. "I wouldn't say shocking. More like..um..specific to my kinks."
He gave me a mischievous smile. "Tell me."
"I don't know. It's sort of embarrassing."
"You can trust me. You know you can tell me anything. We've been together.. er.. sleeping together for how long? I want to know."
He playfully pinched my ass. I watched his face: hopeful, interest peaked, eager to misbehave. I considered stopping this in it's tracks, and decided against it. If we were going to go forward from this, all my walls had to come down.
"I've never told anyone before, Tom... but I'll trust you on this, alright? I just want you to know it's pretty scary for me."
"Okay." he nipped at my neck, "now tell me."
I cleared my throat. "In my fantasy, I walk into a dark room."
"Okay."
"And your back is to me..and you're wearing a suit with the tie loose and shirt unbuttoned."
"Should I run out and get changed and come back?" he joked, trying to ease my discomfort.
I slapped him lightly on the belly, causing him to laugh. He caught my wrist in his fingers and brought it to his mouth kissing my palm. "Go on."
"I can tell by the way you're breathing and how your body is moving that you're.."
"Wanking."
"For lack of a better word."
"I walk to stand in front of you and as you see me you pump your cock even harder."
"Hold on. So what you're saying is that when you touch yourself, you imagine me rubbing one out. That's what gets you off?"
"What?"
One corner of his mouth went up in a half-smile. "It's just... flattering, and frankly... pretty fucking hot." His stiffening cock backed up his sentiment, pressing against me from below my thigh.
"Well, there's more.." I stared at his neck, and watched him swallow audibly.
"Oh?"
I forced myself to raise my eyes to meet his. No more walls. "That's when I start to tease you."
Tom let out a broken breath. "How?" he whispered.
"Well, I ..."
"No. Don't tell me. Stand up."
"Tom, I don't know..."
"Let me do this for you. Stand up. Tease me."
I stood in front of him awkwardly, ready to bolt. I felt exposed, at loose ends. My gaze dropped to his lap, where his hand was lazily stroking his cock. Then I met his eyes. He raised his brows and bit his lip. He was waiting. He greedily raked his gaze down my body, leering at me. I felt heat pooling between my legs.
Okay, I am going to do this.
"I knew I'd find you here, like this," I began, saying aloud for the first time words I had imagined over and over, "I've seen the way you look at me. Undressing me, fucking me with your eyes. Did you really think I hadn't noticed? Tell me, did I make you this hard?"
"Yes.." he breathed.
"Mmmm. I bet you get off all the time thinking about me, don't you?"
"Yes." his voice was getting tighter.
"Yes. You do, you dirty boy. And here I've caught you, with your hands all over your cock, this is so, so bad," I chided him.
"Maybe I should lift my skirt for you and let you slip that inside my tight, wet pussy. Would you like that?"
"Fuck yes."
"I don't know." I mused " Wouldn't that be wrong? Here, I've just walked in on you, I don't belong to you Tom. You can't have me."
Tom groaned and closed his eyes, his hand moving at a strong rhythm.
My breath had quickened, a flush creeping over my face and chest. I was sharing my dirtiest thoughts with him. I felt bare, flayed open. But also unfettered and somehow safe. I upped the ante.
"Hmmm...I wonder."
He opened his eyes, grinding his teeth.
"Maybe I should just.." I slipped one strap of my dress off my shoulder, then the other, the dress fell to my full hips, staying bunched there. My full breasts exposed, nipples begging for his mouth, his hands. "I bet you've imagined this, haven't you? Seeing my breasts?"
I reached up to cup them and roll my nipples against my thumbs. "Do you like them, Tom? Aren't the lovely?"
"Fucking God. Yes. They're perfect." His eyes were rapt, watching the progress of my hands.
"Would you like to feel?"
"Yes." he reached out to pull me toward him. I slapped his hand sharply away. "No Tom, you can't. That would be bad. You wouldn't make me be bad would you?"
"Fuck, darling. Please."
"Is this hard for you, Tom? To see what you think about, what you've come thinking about, without being able to touch it? Hmmm.. I wonder." I tapped my lip with my fingertip, "Maybe I could... can you hold very still and be a good boy?"
I stepped between his thighs, his hand still working his cock and leaned over him. I brushed my breast against his stubbled cheek. "Feel how soft? Would you like a taste?"
He opened his mouth in answer. I teased his lips with my nipple, staying just out of his reach, pulling back just as he opened his mouth to taste me. His hand went to my back to pull me toward him, his mouth closing around it and suckling roughly.
"Tom! Stop that or I'll scream!" I pushed myself away from him. "You can't touch me, Tom. If you try I'll tell everyone what you're making me do."
I looked down his body and chewed on my lower lip. I took in his heaving chest, still clothed in the t-shirt, his long bare legs. His magnificent cock jutted up from his lap, his long fingered hand stroking it madly. I was dying to slip off my panties and slide down hard onto it, but I was enjoying the my low inhibitions for once, and didn't want to stop playing this game, not yet.
"Oh Tom, you're going to make me be bad, aren't you? I slowly slid my skirt up my thighs revealing my sex, and my soaked-through knickers.
"Do you think about seeing my tight little pussy.?"
Tom was beyond words. He grunted in response, biting his bottom lip with the all of his front teeth, his eyes locked onto my cunt.
"Take them off." he gritted "I'm going to have you, you little slut."
I slid both the dress and panties off my hips, kicking them away. "You can't have me Tom. All you can do is watch. If you touch me I'll tell and everyone will know.."
I stood with my legs slightly apart, and let my hand find its way to my sex. "I want you to look at my pussy, Tom. See how pink, how pretty.." I spread my plump outer lips. "Look Tom. Look how wet you've made me. I"m so tight too, Tom. Your cock would stretch me."
Tom's hips bucked. "Darling, I..."
I moved to stand over his lap, his cock almost touching my cunt. "Mmm.. I bet that would feel delicious." I brushed my labia against the head of his cock. He reached for me with one hand, the other holding his cock straight preparing to impale me."No. We can't."
He moaned. "Please.."
"Begging won't help. You like to beat off to me. So do it."
Tom groaned and went back to stroking his cock.
"Tom, I wonder, would you like to watch me play with my tight little pussy? It's the least I could do, and as long as I don't let myself come, I suppose it's not so wrong."
"Yes...please."
"Oh that's lovely. " I lay down on the sofa next to him and hitched one thigh over the back , one leg draped onto the floor, spreading my legs very wide. "Watch me, Tom." I dipped my fingers into my cunt and dragged them, wet, onto my clit, stroking it and swirling it around under the pads of my fingers. Tom set his jaw at an angle, his bottom teeth bared. His hand never stopped moving on his cock. His eyes didn't leave my hot, pink center, following the small movements of my fingers.
"Tom, I wonder if you would like a taste of my pussy," I purred.
He immediately dropped his cock and started for my sex, ready to press his face between my thighs, starving. I snapped my legs shut. "Tom, I'm shocked. You can't put your face there. It isn't yours. Here. Stay very still."
Tom was leaning over me, his cock inches from my pussy. I dipped my two fingers into my dripping warmth and brought them to his lips. "Hold still." I traced the thin curve of his bottom lip with my fluid, then removed my hands, dipping them between my legs again. He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, groaning. For a few moments we were silent, him still rubbing his length, watching me under him, working my clit, breathing roughly.
He broke the silence. "Let me have you, you little cock tease."
"No, Tom, but... I wonder if you like to come on me. Would you like that? To come on my belly. Mark me up?"
"Fuck yes..."
I moaned. I felt my release quickly approaching, my womb tensing and my breath coming fast. Speaking rapid nonsense, I was keening, wanton, "Oh, God Tom, you've got me so desperate to come. I don't know if I can stop. I can't believe you're making me do this! I can't .. I have to.. oh, god, this is so wrong..." My mind was racing, finishing the out the scenario, Tom, pushing me down, claiming me, making me his, stretching me with his cock, slamming into me. Chanting, 'You're mine. You're mine.'
But, I couldn't find the breath to say it aloud.
My orgasm hit me hard, causing my thighs to tighten and shake. My cunt spasmed and I felt fluid pulsing, leaking down my folds. I arched my back, pressing my breasts against him, tossing my head back. "Fuck! Tom!"
Watching me come apart just centimeters under him caused Tom to meet his release, groaning obscenities. I felt his body tighten, then opened my eyes to see long spurts of cum shooting onto my stomach, splatting over my tits, dripping down my neck. The sight was heady, and filthy. I was transfixed. He bowed his head to watch as well, muttering "oh fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck." before collapsing onto me, smearing his warm fluid between us.
I felt giddy. Tom had drawn me out, and true to his word, had been there for me, playing along with my dirty masturbation fantasy. This was what life with him would be like, love, acceptance, laughter, sex. I could just whisper it now and ask him.
I know how badly I fucked up, Tom. Please, would you still have me as yours?
"Hey," I began, "Thank you. That was really special for me. I've never even told anyone about it, let alone had someone offer to act it out with me. Thank you."
He lifted his head wearily, "It was my pleasure. I knew you were much a much filthier girl than you were letting on. It's what I like about you." he smiled, "now we'll just see if I can ever walk again."
He rested his head against my breast. I kissed his forehead. "If you can't, you can just stay right here."
I didn't tell Tom I loved him that morning, finding it impossible to just blurt out. When he confessed his true feelings for me, he went to great lengths to make it an amazing evening. The least I could do was get some wine and candles.
Tom left for some appointments early that afternoon after a post coital nap and a shared shower. I slept soundly for the first time in days and awoke with a plan. Tom, in my flat tonight. Where it all started.
"Dinner will be at 8:30." I told him at the door, as he was leaving.
"Sounds good," he said , leaning down to give me a quick peck on the lips. I reached to pull him in for a french kiss, but he pulled back a hair, deciding instead to nuzzle my nose and give me a chaste smooch. "See you at 8:30," he said, and walked into the hallway.
I closed the door and set my plan in motion, headed straight for the ill-fated box under my bed. The charms were still in there, and as I fished around my jewelry box, I found a simple silver chain to string them on. I slipped it over my head. The charms rested between my breasts. At my heart. My heart with his label above it. Tom's.
I didn't over-analyze any of it, just threw together a sauce for pasta, and choose some wine. I set the dinette table with two place settings and a few candles, then dressed myself in a soft off the shoulder sweater and slim pants, the charm necklace was my secret, tucked under my top, ready for me to reveal at the perfect moment.
A wave of sadness washed over me as I realized how excited I was anticipating tonight, I knew that Tom had been at least this excited, probably more so the night I rebuffed him. I said a silent prayer of thanks that I hadn't lost him forever and vowed to start making it up to him this evening, even if it took forever.
The intercom buzzed. I checked the clock. Tom was a few minutes early. I took a deep breath and steadied myself, as I buzzed him up.
He was at my door in no time, in casual dress: black cardigan, white tee, jeans. I was surprised by his choice, given his tendency to overdress when we had dinner, but he looked amazing.
"Hey," I said quietly.
"Hey." he kissed my cheek and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Come in," I invited, although, small as my flat was, he was for all intents and purposes standing in the middle of my living room.
"Can I get you something to drink? Jameson? Wine?"
"No thanks."
"Is something going on, Tom?" I sat on the sofa, he remained standing, his eyes looking everywhere but me.
He worried his hands together and rubbed the front of his thighs, still standing, looking like a huge caged animal in the small room.
"I can't stop thinking about this morning," he began.
"Neither can I," I smiled. The feeling of being bare to him was still fresh, and the memory was intoxicating.
He gave a pained smile and huffed lightly. "I've been thinking about some of the things that were said, and the truth is.."
"Yes?" the hair on my neck stood up. Something was not right here.
"The truth is that this isn't healthy. For either of us."
"I thought we had fun, It was a fantasy, Tom."
Tom shook his head. "It was a metaphor for our relationship. I desire you, crave you, need you to function. You hold yourself always just out of my reach. Offering me everything I need, then telling me I can't have it"
"No, it's not like that. There was more to the fantasy. We just finished before..."
Tom cut me off. "I've tried to give you what you want, meaningless sex, fucking you senseless and then staying here and playing house.."
"What?! Tom! Stop this!"
"...but I can't pretend to be something I'm not. I'm not an automaton. I feel things. I..I.. can't see you anymore."
I felt like I had been punched. I looked at him, his eyes pink. This was killing him. He didn't want this, but the felt it was the only choice.
"I'm not an automaton," I said quietly.
"You call it what you like. I can't wait for you to manufacture a genuine emotion for me. I'm sorry. I should go."
"Tom don't do this..."
He turned to the door, I was on my feet in an instant, my hands wrapped around his arm, "Tom! Don't do this. Please!"
I tried to find the words to make him stop, make him see that I could feel the genuine emotion he needed me to. That I did feel it already, without any ultimatum. But the speech I had prepared for him was obsolete now.
He pulled his arm away from me, turning the door knob, opening the door. He was the one running. From me. I deserved this. I had to make him stop, make him see. "Tom. Wait. I... I.. made pasta."
He stopped at the door, not turning around, his head dropped. "Put it in plastic for tomorrow's lunch. Good-bye. I'm sorry."
The door closed quietly. I clutched at the necklace between my breasts. "Good-bye. Tom. I love you." I sobbed aloud. I half expected him to rush back in and pick me off the floor, peppering me with kisses and apologies. I waited there, legs curled, crying until the pasta became a cold mass and the candles flickered out. He didn't come back.
