Day Three

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On the Road: Day Three

Nothing much happened the next day.

Zan was tired of driving so Lonnie took over. Rath wanted to, but he had a lead foot and the last thing they needed now was to get pulled over. Sure, they could handle it, but it’d be a nuisance and more trouble than it was worth. He got bored fast as a passenger, though, and ended up playing music he could sing along to – which meant loud and head pounding. The usual.

In the back seat, Zan stretched out so Ava could use him as a pillow. She’d had even less sleep than he did, because she’d watched over him while he dreamed and then listened as he told her some of what Liz had told him. He’d told her what he learned about their dupes, and she agreed that they sounded pretty fucked up.

When she realized that he hadn’t gotten off in the dream that night, Ava asked if he wanted her to help him out. It was funny, though, because she seemed sad but also really happy when he shook his head ‘no’, like she approved, or something. She’d even fallen asleep holding his hand, which was weird but he let her because the others couldn’t see it and she was smiling when she finally passed out.

Chicks. He’d never figure ‘em out.

Now he played with her hair out of habit but his mind was somewhere else. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Liz had told him about this Max guy coming back from the future, and he couldn’t help but wonder about her.

He couldn’t figure her out, couldn’t decide what made him want her. Maybe it was just the lure of forbidden fruit; girls like her back in New York would play with him, or rather, let him play with them, but he would never really get one. Hell, they would never actually talk to him, just like he’d never talk to them. Just fuck around with them, and sometimes, fuck them. But that was all.

She was easy on the eyes, but so were a million other girls, and he’d never driven across the country to check out any of them.

She put others before herself, which was something he got, but it bugged him too. That kind of thinking could get a person in trouble. People had to look out for number one in this world, and naïve dreamer types ended up face down in the street. He couldn’t really fault her for it, though. He did the same thing, taking on the role of protector for the four of them from the beginning, even if Lonnie and Rath seemed to resent it more than anything else.

He wondered if the people Liz was closest to resented her. He guessed that Rath’s and Lonnie’s dupes probably did, and if this Tess was half as territorial as Liz had hinted at, she probably hated the human girl’s guts.

Maybe that’s what drew him to her; maybe he thought she’d understand stuff about him that no one else could. He got the feeling she was fast thinking, too, and when she put her mind to something, she did it. She didn’t ask for permission or anything. Now that he could respect.

Or maybe it was just because she knew about him, the alien stuff anyway, so he didn’t have to hide that side of himself from her. That was cool, all right, but at the same time it worried him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, and he had a feeling that a fuck and run wasn’t in the cards.

So what was?

Ava said that maybe he’d found someone who could give him whatever it was he needed to feel right with himself. He didn’t know what she meant by that, but it sure sounded good – not that he’d ever admit it.

None of that really mattered, of course. The fact was, they’d connected somehow, and he could no more turn back now and pretend she didn’t exist than he could go to Roswell and kill her because she might know he did.

So instead he spent the day trying to figure out what he wanted to say to her that night.

His resolve to talk more – to found out more – didn’t last long. Not when he saw her dream.

It was a nightmare, really, about being alone in a world of couples. She’d even, he was amused to see, imagined herself into a kind of schoolmarm scenario straight out of a Western, teaching spelling on a chalkboard for a chaotic roomful of uninterested children. Even better, the kids were all spawn of horny parents who kept unloading them on her so that they could go home and get back to making more of the little squirts.

He’d been half tempted to make himself one of the guys in the dream, except then he saw himself – Max, whatever – in one of the crazy suits, and realized that wasn’t going to work. Especially when he saw lil’ Miss Parker’s resigned expression. She wasn’t crying or anything, but she reacted to every glimpse of Max draped all over an Ava-wannabe like a slap in the face.

Thinking for a moment, he left his tats and hair and stuff and just walked right up to her as himself. No one else noticed, but her eyes latched onto him with undisguised relief.

“Zan!” she greeted him, and he wanted to leave and come back, just to hear her say his name like that again.

He just looked at her instead, half-smiling, one eyebrow cocked slightly. “Time fer a break yet?”

Her eyes grew round and she nodded enthusiastically. “Hell, yeah.” Turning to her desk, Liz picked up a bell and shook it to get everyone’s attention. “Recess!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “I said RECESS!”

In a blink the schoolroom emptied of children and parents alike, and to his immense satisfaction she didn’t even notice Max leaving. Her eyes never left his as she made her way over, her hips making her huge skirt swish around in interesting ways.

“You know what recess is for, right?” She’d stopped yelling, and her voice was a low purr.

He didn’t, actually. He’d never gone to school. Cal had taught them how to speak and Zan had learned how to read to teach the others. But she was just teasing him, he knew, and it made his heart skip a beat.

He spread his hands out, as if asking: what?

She stepped close to him, really close, and he found his eyes drawn to the frilly stuff that lined the top of her dress.

“Games,” she said coyly, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

He leaned down, wanting to taste her lips (and definitely that tongue) himself, but instead he found himself off balance as she shoved his shoulder and backed away.

“Wha? Liz?”

Smiling sweetly, she put several desks between them before singing out: “Tag! You’re it.”

He watched with unbelieving eyes as she turned and ran, giggling. Catching on, he automatically plotted the quickest route to intercept, but just as quickly decided against it. Instead he began running around the desks in a wide circle, grinning wolfishly.

This was the girl that made him think there was more to life than knocking over fruit stands and showing other kids who’s boss. Sweet.

She shrieked when she saw him coming, but she wasn’t really scared and the sound excited him. So as she turned to run down one aisle he made his way down a parallel one, and finally he just vaulted over a desk to stand directly in her path.

She looked seriously tasty. Her severely bound hair had loosened, and she was rosy-cheeked and panting enough that her chest pushed against the fabric of her dress in tantalizing ways. She squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her, pulling her against him so that she had to look up to see his face. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips, and her own parted in anticipation.

“Tag,” he said, growled really, and kissed her. Hard.

She didn’t fight him. She melted against him instead.

Still devouring her, he brought both of his hands up to cup her face for a moment before plunging his fingers into the thick hair at the back of her neck. With a flick of his hand some pins fell to the ground, so that her hair flowed freely through his hands and down her back. He kissed along her jaw as she arched her neck to give him better access, getting all the way to her ear before working his way down the vein he felt pulsing under her skin.

She moaned then, and the minute vibrations against his lips made him shiver.

Needing more, he lifted her on top of a desk. His head dipped even lower, to taste her collarbone and the flesh that peeked out from the frilly stuff that had caught his attention earlier. Her head fell back and his hands came up to cup her breasts, his thumbs finding her hardened nipples through stiff material.

There was something downright naughty about making love to a woman in a dress designed to hide as much of her as possible, and it definitely turned him on.

So when Liz lifted her head in a haze and said huskily, “I think it’s time to get out of all these clothes, don’t you?” Zan shook his head.

“Oh, there’re def’nitely too many clothes between us,” he told her sincerely, “but I think getting’ rid of ‘em all is a lil’ …” his eyes caught one of the words from the spelling lesson on the blackboard on the wall, “immoderate, don’tcha think?”

She had to laugh because he was stripping as he spoke. But when she tried to do the same herself he shook his head again, so she just sat back and waited.

... Not that watching Zan undress was such a bad way to pass the time, her expression told him, and he put a little extra muscle clenching into the process, wanting to hear her breath catch again.

It worked. He smirked.

Then he was in front of her and pulling her off of the desk to stand before him, and she couldn’t keep her hands off of him. She pulled his head down to hers for a long, deep kiss, pressing their bodies close together with some force.

He took a moment to kiss her back but his hands had started roaming her tightly clad figure, investigating every dip and every curve. Intrigued, he sank down until he was kneeling before her and lifted her skirt at the ankle.

He found himself wanting to laugh at the billowy white pant-things she was wearing under it, and to his surprise she wasn’t wearing underskirts but instead some kind of collapsible frame that created an open bell shape underneath. Pushing it up, he got her to hold it as he went back to her ankles and began working his hands along her legs, exploring the bizarre outfit she was wearing and instinctively knowing … yup, no panties.

For a split-second he missed the blue ones, with the flowers, but it passed.

With a tug, the blousy pant-like things traveled downwards, and he swallowed audibly as her naked sex was laid bare before him. He heard the gasps coming from somewhere over his head but he ignored them as he pressed his face between her thighs. Instead of pulling the pants all the way off he just used his powers to weaken the seams and yanked them off, unable and unwilling to waste any more time.

He felt her lean back against something, a desk maybe or a wall, and used the opportunity to lift one of her legs, guiding it over his shoulder and giving him unimpeded access to her.

He’d done this with girls before, out of curiosity, wanting to know what they liked. Now, he used one hand to steady her and the other to spread her open, and listened with satisfaction as her breath grew audibly ragged.

He located her clit, flicking at it with his finger and then, as he felt it swell, rubbing against it with his thumb in slow, controlled circles. One of her hands had drifted down to his hair, somehow finding purchase among the spikes, and was pressing against his scalp. Encouraged, he moved his hand deeper between her thighs, plunging first one, two, three fingers into her, feeling her tensing around him but not resisting.

Leaning in, he tasted her for the first time, and he found himself smiling when she jumped. If he hadn’t doubted just how cherry she was before, he knew now.

But she didn’t pull away; after a second, she just relaxed, letting him know he could keep going. Gratified by her trust, he redoubled his efforts, really digging all the sounds she was making. Still, he pulled back when her hand tugged at his hair to get his attention.

Deliberately licking his lips, he looked up. “Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, Zan,” she said, and he stood up so quickly it startled her, making her laugh nervously.

She recovered quickly, dropping her skirt so she could start undoing her bodice again. And again, he shook his head. Throwing her arms up in mock exasperation, she simply stood there, and he took a moment to admire the sight before pulling her skirt up, fully intending to fuck her with the crazy thing still on.

But he got frustrated as the hoop thing kept getting in the way, and his eyes narrowed as she giggled at his predicament.

Abruptly his eyes lit up and she knew he’d figured something out. Fast, so fast she almost overbalanced above him, he lowered himself to the cool floor, pulling her down to straddle him so that the skirt settled around her legs, covering him from thigh to chest.

He watched as she laughed in delight, her bust swelling right in his line of vision even as her knees squeezed his hips and she lowered herself onto and around him.

“Finally,” he groaned, and she laughed again, high and openly joyful, and he couldn’t help himself. He laughed too, marveling at how ludicrous the whole thing was, at how – how silly he felt. Like a little kid or something.

And it felt – good?

Before he could decide, Liz did something, shifted somehow, and he found himself lost in the motion. He couldn’t see what was happening so all he could do was feel it, feel her knees squeezing his hips and how wet she was and how tightly her muscles clenched against and all around him. She wasn’t moving very much, just sort of rolling her hips, but he was so excited he found himself thrusting upwards into her, his own back arching in his need to be in her.

The night before wasn’t a matter of equipment, then. He found himself wishing he knew how to pray, because this was one of those times that ‘thanking God’ called for some serious sincerity.

Once she’d adjusted to this position Liz leaned forward so that her hair feathered over his chest and her hands met his. Obviously feeling daring, she lifted his hands so they rested over his head, and he was a little shocked at how exposed he felt with her over him like that. He didn’t say anything, though, just looked up into her eyes and let her do what she wanted.

And what she wanted, apparently, was to look into his eyes, to watch his face as he pushed himself further, drove himself harder, into her.

At one point, she said his name.

“Zan,” she sighed, nothing else, but something about the way she said it sent goosebumps racing along his arms and put a lump in his throat. It didn’t take either of them long after that, although for the first time Zan found himself straining not to finish first.

He couldn’t stress about it, though. At least it was happening, right? And more importantly, he was feeling that haze enveloping him again, only this time it felt stronger, brighter somehow. Was this normal? He looked to Liz, but she just looked blissed out; he couldn’t tell if she thought something was off or not.

He didn’t really care. It was a total rush, and this was only a dream. He wondered if he might actually explode when they did it for real, and found himself looking forward to it when it finally happened – and it would happen. He’d make sure of it.

Grinning at the thought, he caught Liz as she collapsed on top of him this time, and only resisted a little when she moved to get up after a while. She stood up on shaky legs, and looked down at him, and damned if that dress couldn’t keep a secret; there was no way to tell she was completely naked from the waist down underneath it.

“Is that thing legit?” he asked, out of the blue.

“Legit?”

“Ya know,” he said, waving his hand around, “true to da times, or whatevah.”

She laughed. “I have absolutely no idea. I don’t even know where this whole – theme – came from. My mind is a scary place to be, sometimes.” Suddenly, archly, she asked, “So are we done with it now? Because I want to lie down next to you –”

His heart missed a beat to hear her say those simple, frank words.

“– And it’s just not gonna happen in this.”

“So,” he coughed slightly, “Lets do sumthin’ bout it.” This being a dream, of course, all he had to do was concentrate and in something less than a second she was wearing as little as he … and blushing at his candid appraisal.

Laughing, she dropped to her knees and tried to cuddle next to him, but decided the floor of a Little House on the Prairie type schoolhouse was no substitute for a mattress. So she rolled directly on top of him instead.

“I like this game,” she said, suddenly, and he found his own mouth quirking in response, not minding her weight as much as he expected. And if that was a splinter in his ass? Whatever. He’d been through worse. More to the point, he wasn’t about to move right now, not for anything.

“Ya do, huh?” He had an idea she meant something other than ‘tag’. “And whattaya like ‘bout it?”

She thought about that for a moment. “It’s like starting over. I mean, the slate’s clean, right? No one’s betrayed anyone here. It’s a second chance.” She looked at him uncertainly. “Do you know what I mean?”

In the space of a few seconds she’d obviously forgotten that this was a dream, or chosen to forget that this was supposed to be a figment of her imagination, but he liked it when she talked to him so he encouraged her.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Want to know what else I like about this game?”

He tucked some hair behind her ear, wanting to see her face when she talked to him. “What?”

She grinned impishly. “The prize.”

On impulse he wrapped his arms around her, tightly, so her chin was on his chest and he could feel her nipples against his belly and his cock against hers. “’Zat so?”

She nodded as emphatically as she could.

“Question is, how d’ya decide who wins?”

She screwed up her face as if thinking about it. “Rock, paper, scissors?” Something about the way a smile hovered around her lips reassured him that she was kidding.

“I don’ think so,” he drawled, amused.

“Flip a coin?”

“Uh uh.”

“I know!”

“What?” He was curious; there was no denying it.

“Why, n –”

Suddenly her warmth was torn away from him, and Zan blinked a few times at the watery brightness of the early morning sun.

“Fuckin’ ‘larm clocks,” he cursed, his head falling back on his pillow.

And then he grinned.