PART FIFTEEN

Michael lay on Liz’s bed, his hands propped behind his head. She’d been in the bathroom for a long while now, and yet his heart still beat an out of control rhythm. What was it with women and bathrooms? He just wanted her in his arms, and didn’t care about whatever it was she felt the need to do before they made love.

He stared at her ceiling and thought how familiar her bedroom was in some ways. They’d all studied here before, watched movies in her parents apartment—yet he couldn’t remember a single time when he’d been alone with Liz in her room. There were little details all around that spoke volumes about her, including the strip of photos he’d found beside her bed. They were of her and Max, laughing and smiling in some ridiculous photo booth. He reached for the pictures again, and lay studying the images, his gaze wandering back and forth between Max and Liz. The pictures made him feel a little jealous, like he was a stranger on the outside, even though logically he knew they’d been taken earlier in the year, before any of the recent intimacy had developed.

But he’d always been jealous of what they had. From the very beginning. He’d wanted Max and the desire had never faded, had only intensified in recent months, and all that time Max could only mope about Liz. Max was incomplete without her, of that Michael had been certain, but that didn’t explain the rest of Michael’s dark secret.

The truth was, Michael had wanted Liz just as much as he’d wanted Max. From the time of the shooting, ever since they’d hooked up, Michael had been undeniably attracted to her, unable to stop looking.

And he’d been unable to prevent himself from watching the two of them together. That Liz found Max beautiful in his arms astounded him, not because he couldn’t understand it, but precisely because he knew that emotion all too well.

Liz and Max, walking down the hallway at school, lost in one another’s eyes, and there he’d stood, observing silently from his locker. Beautiful…exquisite. The two of them kissing frantically inside the jeep right outside the Crashdown—and there he’d sat, watching from a booth inside the cafe, utterly mesmerized.

It never ended, the way they affected him when together…and in those months while Liz had been in Florida, he’d missed it almost as much as Max had. Her absence from Max’s life had left an odd hole in his own, an inexplicable void that now stood in sudden clarity. The three of them completed one another…her absence from Max’s life, even then, had been her absence from his own.

The bathroom door opened, and Michael quickly set the photos beside the bed right as Liz appeared. Nothing seemed different, despite her long absence in the bathroom. She still wore her low-slung jeans, her soft abdomen exposed right where her shirt rode high on her waist. Her long hair still fell loosely across her shoulders.
Yet her eyes glinted dangerously, as she moved fluidly toward him. She reached for the bedside lamp, turning it out, so that only soft golden light spilled from within the bathroom as she settled beside him on the bed. He moved over, making room for her, as he rolled onto his side to face her.

"You’re still sure?" he asked quietly, and she laughed in that husky way that always drove him wild.

"Sheesh, Michael," she giggled. "I’ve practically begged you for it. What more do I need to do?"

He pulled her close against his chest, easing his large hands underneath her black t-shirt. "Begging some more might help, Elizabeth Parker."

"Elizabeth…" she smiled, splaying her tiny hands against his chest. "You’ve never called me that until tonight."

"I was never free to love you until now." Ah, shit. The words had escaped before he’d even thought about it. And Liz Parker never missed a thing.

She cocked her head slightly to the side, where she lay nestled against the soft pillow "Did you want to?" Her voice was thick, edged with something dangerous.

Michael hesitated a moment, considered lying, but something made him want to take a bigger risk. "Yes."

She was immensely pleased—he could see it even in the half-darkness as a glowing smile suddenly illuminated her features. Her lips parted, inviting him to kiss her. And just before he did, she paused, drawing back a bit. "Well now you can, Michael…and I’ll be Elizabeth whenever you want me to."



Michael had stripped down to only his boxers, which bulged with his obvious arousal. He’d unzipped Liz’s pants hurriedly, as the two of them had begun frantically exploring one another’s bodies. All the tentativeness had given way to something hungry and desperate…insistent, until now they lay beside one another nearly naked.

Michael lifted Liz’s t-shirt over her head, exposing her black lace bra, which matched the panties he’d audibly gasped upon discovering. Now Michael collapsed backwards onto the bed and lay studying her in obvious amazement.

"Oh…God." His words fell between labored pants, as he drank her in with his eyes. "Liz."

She felt her cheeks flush, even in the darkness, at his obvious appreciation of her lingerie. She averted her eyes, laughing nervously. "Glad you like…it."

"No, no," he corrected forcefully, rolling onto his side, closer toward her. He propped himself on his elbow, and ran his fingers along the edge of her lace bra, tugging lightly with his fingers.

"Not it…you," he admitted softly. "I love what I see of you, Liz. God, you’re unbelievably gorgeous. I was too overwhelmed, too scared the first time…but now I really see you."

Liz reached boldly for his boxers and pressed them lower, until suddenly he sprang free, completely exposed to her. Michael arched his head back, as Liz took him firmly within her palm, and a slight moan escaped his lips.

His eyes fluttered closed, yet his hands kept exploring her breasts, stroking her nipples firmly beneath the silky fabric. She stiffened instantly beneath his touch, even as the rest of her body responded. She thrust one of her thighs between his legs, needing to be much closer to him, unable to deny how much she already needed him inside of her. She released his cock from her hand and instead rolled on top of him, so that his erection slipped between her legs, rubbing smoothly against the silken fabric of her panties.

"Liz," he moaned again. "I need more, please." He pulled on her underwear, desperate to feel the warmth of her flesh, not just the smooth fabric against his heated cock. Liz helped him, thrusting her hips up a bit, so that he could easily tug the panties down her legs. She shimmied out of them, as he fumbled awkwardly with the clasp of her bra.

She smiled, kissing him quickly, before sitting up so that she straddled him. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder as she stared down at him invitingly, and unfastened her bra, allowing her breasts to fall free. Liz always felt they were impossibly small, but the way Michael’s eyes shimmered with obvious desire caused her face to flush anew. He cupped both her breasts, swallowing visibly, as she rocked back a bit on top of him, so that her entire body was exposed to him.

Michael’s eyes lingered over her form, his gaze lowering appreciatively over her body until finally their eyes met again. Liz felt exposed, vulnerable even—until she saw the way his eyes grew wide with wonder. There were no words, only silence as the two of them stared at one another for a long moment, and something grew more definite in their tender new relationship.

Then, Michael smiled impishly and rolled Liz quickly off of him, and she found herself pinned suddenly beneath him.

"Now," he growled. "Right now."

"Okay," she laughed, wondering if he’d expected an argument.

And then he was suddenly pressing hard against her opening, and she was so wet already, that he slid inside instantly, causing her breath to catch. Their lips met, as their kisses became desperate, a completion of the rest of their physical intimacy. Liz wanted this to be slow, yet suddenly she needed Michael in a primal way…it didn’t feel like this could be gentle at all as she bucked up against him. He began thrusting slowly inside her, yet she needed it faster than that. She met each of his thrusts with her own, and his pace instantly quickened, even as their kisses deepened too.

The feel of Liz’s warm walls around him drove Michael slightly mad. Making love to Max was incredible, he was so tight and his muscular body so unbelievably arousing. But Liz was something else entirely, and this was almost more than Michael could take.

He needed to be deeper inside, wanted more of her…yet something felt odd. Something he couldn’t place, as if this exquisite moment, when their bond was growing so much deeper…weren’t as private as he wanted. But Michael ignored the sensation, moaning loudly in Liz’s ear as she wrapped her legs tightly around him, allowing him to press so much deeper inside of her.

Elizabeth…Elizabeth…

Oh, God…the bond. Something was happening…he felt it in his chest.

"Ahh…" he cried out, stilling instantly inside of her, and her eyes flew open in recognition. She nodded in understanding before he could ask if she felt the same sensation.

She trembled in his arms now, almost like Max had the other night when things had grown too intense with their alien energy. "Liz?" He questioned breathlessly, but she only closed her eyes, panting raggedly.

"Liz," he demanded more insistently, and yet the sensation in his chest only deepened. "Are you alright?" He felt her…just like the night the three of them had joined souls, only it was different, just the two of them now.

"The bond…" she managed to gasp. "It’s deepening, isn’t it?"

Michael nodded helplessly, as Liz arched her back, clinging to his neck as if for strength. "Then don’t stop, Michael. I want all of you."

Michael bowed his head against hers, trying to catch the breath that had literally disappeared from his lungs. What was happening between them was exquisitely beautiful…and somewhere in the recesses of his mind he wondered why this hadn’t happened with Max, especially with as deeply as they’d bonded? It had happened with the three, but not between just the two of them.

Liz’s small hands clasped his hips, urging him onward as she began to buck against him forcefully, and he pressed thoughts of Max aside—but not before some part of his mind remembered that their three souls had joined while he and Max were making love.

Which meant that although Liz had been part of it, some new and deeper connection was forging between the two of them right now…like a thin gossamer thread, their union was being hammered taut.

Michael pressed his eyes shut and lost himself inside Liz—not just her body, but her soul…all of her, and every time he pushed inside her beautiful, delicate form, he felt the bond between their souls deepen like the softest sigh.

Elizabeth…Elizabeth…

Her name echoed in his mind like a chant of salvation, and somewhere just beyond, another name danced and pirouetted just as insistently. Maxwell…Maxwell.


And in that moment, he swore he could feel Max right there with them, so close he could nearly kiss him. But that was his last thought, as he joined completely with Liz, soul to soul, heartbeat to heartbeat, branded as one.

***

Max stared in disbelief, his hand resting against the cool windowpane. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Liz and Michael, making love right in her bed, and enjoying one another so passionately that Max fought the urge to be sick on the spot. Yet he stood transfixed and couldn’t move, because the sight was that compelling.

Liz’s tiny frame moving beneath Michael’s large one, her hips rising in desperate need for him—just as Max’s own had beneath Michael…and Michael devouring her with his mouth, his hands.

Just as Michael’s mouth had branded Max. Exactly the same way, only now with his Liz.

God, it was so much like what he’d done with each of them, only now neither seemed to need him at all. Neither cared that he stood just outside watching, paralyzed with painful awareness that they’d fallen in love. That much was obvious…

Max rested his forehead against the glass pane and fought the emotions that wrestled for dominance in his heart. He knew he was being unfair, that he’d had time alone with each of them, yet somehow that felt different than being confronted with the stark reality of their visceral union. He’d wanted this, had wanted them to love one another…had nearly prayed for it. And he’d known they planned to spend the evening together, had welcomed that too.

But now that it had happened, he wasn’t sure how he should feel, and the only tangible emotion that kept surfacing in his mind was shocking despair. Disbelief…horror.

And as disturbing as the image was--as much as he thought he’d go mad at the sight of them alone together—he had to admit that they were gorgeous.

God, they were absolutely beautiful like this, their sweat slicked bodies sliding together as one.

Slowly, Max stepped backwards, shaking his head as he did so. I can’t breathe…have to get out of here, get away, he thought as he turned toward Liz’s fire escape ladder. I can’t watch, not like this.

But the worst part of all was that Max knew he wanted to watch, and desperately—because their lovemaking was simply that mesmerizing to him.