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CHAPTER 57
Liz

His breath was warm and comforting against the side of her neck, his arm relaxed across her waist, his right hand warm against the bareness of her skin where it had crept up underneath her sweater. His breathing was calm and steady, telling of deep sleep. If that wasn't convincing enough, the calmness through their connection was.

But Liz couldn't sleep. Max's supplement of energy was still buzzing through her body, as if she'd had way too many cups of coffee (and she didn't even drink coffee).

With the sleeping bodies of everyone but Melissa - who was driving - around her, Liz had only her thoughts to keep her company. Those thoughts of hers were proving to be bad company, fretting over the fact that Alex was included in the head count of sleeping bodies in the van. After the fight between Max and Michael, everyone had kind of sided with Max, feeling that it probably was for the best if Alex came along. He knew too much now and in any case, he needed to be convinced of the aliens' legitimacy before he was cut loose. The risk of him exposing them was lower if he believed them; if he was on their side.

Fortunately, Alex had not been there during their meeting, which had spiraled way out of control. He had been safely tucked away in his car, listening to music, while they had regrouped to 'discuss his eventual membership to the I-know-an-alien club'.

If he had been privy to that violent meeting, he probably would have called the police on them immediately, convinced that Liz was in fact part of a criminal and dangerous group of people.

Instead, Alex was now asleep just two feet away from Isabel. Isabel had arranged it that way, and for not the first time Liz wondered about this. If she hadn't known Isabel as well as she thought, she might have hypothesized that Isabel had an interest in Alex. Since Liz knew Alex like a brother, she was certain that Alex had an interest in Isabel.

Even though it was Liz that Alex had kissed at that gas stop.

Liz bit her lower lip at the memory. It had been sweet and soft and innocent. So completely different from the way Max kissed her. Nothing of the exploding emotions and restrained passion pressed against her lips.

Alex had just waited, maybe just enjoying the sensation, and Liz could still remember how her heart had pressed up against the base of her throat. She had felt Max in her head then. In retrospect, she was almost 98% certain that he knew that Alex had kissed her. But before she could react to the kiss - the surprise of his act rooting her to the spot - Alex had pulled back.

She had felt sorry for him and sad that she was unable to reciprocate his feelings. She'd had an inkling that he had been having non-platonic feelings for her for a while, but she had always hoped that she had been successful in not sending him mixed signals. So that he wouldn't get any false hopes.

Maybe today had been a desperate move on his part. Maybe he was hoping that she would change her mind if he kissed her, and come with him. Or maybe he was doing it because he was afraid he might not see her again. She shifted in Max's hold, and his hand slid up, to cover her right breast.

She froze and tried to still the feelings the touch of his hand against her bra - not even skin against skin - brought. She fought the sudden impulse to turn in his arms and taste his lips, to skim her hands under his shirt only to rip it off him, to feel his mouth on her skin as he was waking up-

She shook her head forcefully to rid it of the thoughts and reached under her shirt to take a hold of his hand to direct it back to her stomach. They were not alone. This was not the right place for those type of feelings.

"Can't sleep?"

She jumped at his soft voice against her ear. While fighting her sexual urges she had missed the small signs of him waking up. She felt herself go beet red, her most recent thoughts flashing in her mind as if they wanted to propel themselves at Max in screaming revelation.

"Just thinking," she whispered back.

His previously relaxed hand against her stomach (where she had just returned it), pressed up against the flat expanse of her abdomen, pushing her body up against the front of his, while he nuzzled his nose into the curve of her neck.

He pulled away to place a soft kiss in the hollow where her jugular vein ran, across the beat of her speeding pulse, and said, "I wish we were alone right now."

She felt the heat burn through her whole body and her breath got stuck in her throat as she tried not to think of the feel of Max's hand against her bare skin. Her answer was surprisingly even as she whispered, "Me too."

She proceeded to turn in his arms and came face to face with him. He tangled her legs with his and started to lightly and slowly skim his fingers into the dip of her waist, up to the side of her ribcage and back down again to her waist. Back and forth, slowly and enticing.

She looked up into those brown eyes with the long dark lashes and dropped her eyes to the sensual bend of his upper lip. She slowly licked her lips, unconsciously pressing her lower body up against his.

"But we're not," she said in a hushed voice.

His eyes moved slowly to her lips, his pupils large and black in the dim light of the moving van. "I miss you."

A smile fluttered at the corner of her mouth. "I'm right here."

His hand moved from the dip of her waist, around her back, over her shoulder blades, and with a firm pressure he encouraged her upper body closer to his.

"You know what I mean," he said softly, before he brushed his lips against hers.

She inhaled sharply at the feel of him, of the increasing purposefulness of his kiss. His lips softly encased her bottom lip, before pulling back, leaving her panting (and he had barely kissed her).

"I can feel you in my mind every second of every day," he whispered, his lips grazing hers intermittently. "Even more so since we…"

"Made love," she filled in and a shudder of longing momentarily tilted her perspective. How was it possible to long for someone so much? To crave his touch so much that she felt as if she might expire if he didn't touch her, if he didn't kiss her?

He looked into her eyes, his face an inch from hers, and said in a hushed tone, "And to not touch you every second is torture."

She blushed, her breaths heavy and deep. "I know what you mean."

She inhaled sharply as she felt the restraint of her bra give away as his hand unhooked the clasp at the back of her bra. He was looking at her intently, his eyes dark with desire, as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

"What were you thinking when I told you I was a virgin?" he asked, not looking away, wanting to see every reaction of her answer.

She blinked at his question, momentarily surprised, before she whispered, "Well, a virgin shouldn't be able to unclasp a bra one-handed like you just did."

He grinned and a different kind of warmth spread through her body, before the playful sensation was interrupted by sharp desire as he moved his hand from its position between her shoulder blades to cup her left breast. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the moan from escaping.

She felt his lips against her upper lip, his thumb brush across her nipple, the weight of her breast fall into the palm of his hand and as her teeth let go of her bottom lip, he claimed it with his, the pressure against her breast increasing as he kissed her - thoroughly. Her hands moved to his jawline, traveling across his ears and burrowing into his thick hair. Her moans were drunk by his mouth, her tremors were captured by his body.

"Were you disappointed?" he breathed, pulling back. They were both breathless and her lips felt fuller - bruised - as she stared at him.

"What?" she asked, unable to get her thoughts in line. Her whole body was screaming to be touched, her whole body was screaming to touch his. She couldn't think. Couldn't concentrate.

"Were you disappointed that I was a virgin?" His question, and the honesty in his gaze, cooled her desire and she managed to collect herself somewhat.

"No," she whispered fervently. Why would he think that? "Of course not."

"I could feel your disappointment," he said and his eyes were suddenly hooded.

"It was about me," Liz answered softly. "I was disappointed in me."

He frowned, a beautiful crinkle between his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I hadn't waited. Because I didn't wait for you. Because I assumed that you had done it before. Because of that, maybe I wasn't careful enough - not in tune with your feelings."

"Oh God," he breathed, his eyes intense as they seemed to swallow her face. She felt the thrills of desire rush through their connection, let them rush down her body and fuel her senses. "You were very much in tune with my feelings, Ms. Parker."

The pads of her fingers pressed against his scalp as the heat tightened in her stomach.

"Don't be disappointed that you didn't wait. You had a life before me. That's important to me."

She felt confused. "It is?"

He brushed his index finger down the curve of her breast and her eyes drifted closed. "Yes. I needed you to have a normal life before me. I didn't want you to choose me before you had tried the alternative."

She swallowed back a laugh and opened her eyes to look at him. He was now the hesitant one, the confused one. She calmed his hesitation at her reaction with a, "Oh, you are so beating the alternative."

He smiled at her softly, "I'm glad," before claiming her mouth again, his hand leaving her breast, sliding down her stomach and his fingertips creeping under the upper edge of her jeans, underneath the upper edge of her panties.

She pulled back, gasping for air, her body acutely focused on where his hand was going. "We can't. We can't."

The words were forced out of her. She really didn't want to say them. She really wanted him to continue. She really really did. But she could see from the realization dawning in his eyes that he had let himself go along with the emotion and, again, forgotten where they were.

"I know," he said, closing his eyes in disappointment, before he pulled his hand back to her waist. "I know."

She looked at the back of his eyelids with the taste of his mouth still on her lips and started worrying her bottom lip. "So," she murmured, which had him opening his eyes and meeting hers. "There's no chance in hell I'll be able to sleep now."

That pulled a laugh out of him and his eyes widened in an expression of 'Oops!' before she clasped her hand over his mouth to stop the sound from waking everyone.

They held completely still as Maria turned in her sleep with a soft sigh, just four feet away from them, before silence lowered itself around them again.

They waited another twenty-four seconds before Max said, "Are you worried about him? Alex?"

Liz's body heat was approaching semi-normal as Max kept his hand still against her waist. His question brought her mind as far away from making love to Max as it could possibly get. "Yes." She felt the worry from before gnaw its way back into her mind. "A lot."

"He's in love with you," Max whispered evenly.

Liz searched his face, worried about his reaction, but Max didn't seem bothered, just curious about her answer. So she relaxed and nodded, stating the obvious, "You felt when he kissed me."

Max gave her a weak smile. "Not the most pleasant thing I could get through our connection, but yes."

"He was probably just testing the waters-"

"Using everything he could to get you to come with him," Max filled in.

Liz winced and looked away. "You make him sound like a desperate man with some ugly tricks up his sleeve."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know," Liz said quietly and looked at her hands, fiddling with the hem to the neck of his T-shirt. "I've always suspected he had feelings for me - more feelings than I could reciprocate. But he's never acted on it; always given me space."

"Being a gentleman," Max whispered softly.

Liz looked up at him and nodded slightly. "Yeah. You could say that. He is a gentleman; Alex. He really is a good guy."

"I don't doubt it," Max answered. "He put all this effort into finding you. It couldn't have been easy. Which tells me that his love for you is real. He's even sacrificing his own safety to ride along with a possibly dangerous group of criminals, just to make sure that you're safe."

Liz felt a stab of regret, of shame. What had she gotten Alex into?

"Don't," Max whispered, reading her face. "He's a grown man. He makes his own decisions. He wanted to come. He wants to save you. So let him."

She looked up at him, nervously. "How long should we let him tag along? We're going to the airport, Max. We're leaving the country."

"I guess he should decide that," Max replied.

"What about Michael?"

Max's eyes darkened with irritation. "Michael's already made up his mind anyway. As long as he gets on that plane, he'll be happy."

"You sure?" Liz felt the concern strike her heart. "What if he attacks Alex the way he did you?"

"He won't," Max replied.

"How do you know?" Liz whispered in angst.

Max's hand tightened against the skin of her waist and there was a protective fierceness in his voice as he replied, "I won't let him."