:LairaBehr4 - Thanks
.hazz - I guess the thing with Max's job is that he needs to try to find a balance between spending time with Liz and participating with work things, without letting one of them take up all his time.
clueless - Thanks
.jbangelo - Yeah, I agree that Max needs to spend more time with Liz, but if he stops going for after-work drinks altogther, he's in danger of being ingored or forgotten about in terms of colleague friendships etc.
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Part Seven
Liz
Thursday November 24th 2005 – Thanksgiving
Well, it’s almost eleven pm on Thanksgiving Day and where am I? Stuck in Massachusetts in an empty apartment, missing Max like crazy. You know, I was really hoping I’d be able to make it home for the holiday, but since my side of the family is the one paying for the majority of the wedding, and neither my parents nor I have the spare money for a flight home, I’ve had to stay here. After all, it would only have been for a couple of days and as much as I’d love to spend some time with my fiancé, I think I’d rather save the money for next summer. Plus, I’ll be going back home for Christmas in a few weeks, so it’s not like it’s going to be months before I see him again.
Jack and Becca are visiting his parents in New York for the weekend and Emma and Laura have also gone back home for Thanksgiving, but luckily I’m not totally alone here this weekend; Grace’s family live in nearby Boston, so she’s spending tonight at her parents’ house and then coming back to our apartment tomorrow. In fact, she invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner with her parents this evening, which was really great. Her family are lovely and made me feel very welcome.
Although, just thinking about families and how all of my own are enjoying themselves back in Roswell right now, makes me feel homesick. As I slip out of my tank top and jeans, pull on my pyjamas and climb into bed, a wave of loneliness flows through me and I think about how I could be in Max’s arms at this very moment, instead of lying in a very empty double bed two thousand miles away.
My chin begins to tremble and I close my eyes tightly as if to stop the inevitable tears forming. It doesn’t work. Instinctively, I reach for my cell phone and find Max’s number. However, just as I get ready to press the ‘call’ button, the phone vibrates in my hand and begins blasting You and Me by Lifehouse – Max’s own personal ringtone – in fact, he picked it out himself. A smile replaces my sad expression as I pick up the phone.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Lizzie,” he greets happily. I close my eyes in relief at the sound of his voice.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” I murmur softly. “Happy Thanksgiving, Max. I miss you,” I add.
“I miss you, too,” he says emotionally. “So much.” There’s a brief pause, before, “So, what have you been up to today?”
“Grace invited me for dinner at her folks, but other than that, not much,” I reply.
“Grace? She’s the drama student, right? The one that came onto me for that dare?” he questions hesitantly.
I bite back a smile, “Yeah, that’s her.” Before he has a chance to dwell on that, I cut in with, “What about you? How was Thanksgiving in Roswell?”
“Oh, the usual,” he says. “Your parents came round for dinner and our moms spent the whole time gossiping about the wedding. Isabel and Alex are here and so are Maria and Michael –”
“So, I’m the only one not at home, then,” I murmur in disappointment, although I already know that Maria flew home from New York for the weekend.
“Well, yeah…but we all miss you, especially me; it’s just not the same here without you,” he says tenderly.
“For me, too.”
“Hey, did I tell you that I invited my friend Alex down for Thanksgiving?”
“You did?” I frown slightly. So she’s there and I’m not? Where’s the fairness in that?
“Yeah, I mean...her parents are away, so she couldn’t go home, and we have plenty of space here; so I suggested she come to Roswell with me.”
The loneliness returns, along with a hint of jealousy, and my next words just slip out unintentionally, “You know, you’re too nice for your own good sometimes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks defensively. “She’s my friend; I wasn’t gonna just leave her alone in Albuquerque for four days.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I apologise hastily. What am I thinking? “I’m just upset that we’re not together right now.”
“Yeah, me too,” he says, his tone softening. There’s a pause as we simply enjoy each other’s company, even if it’s just over the phone.
“Hey,” he murmurs a few moments later. “What are you doing right now?”
“I just got into bed, why?”
“Just wondering,” he murmurs slyly. I can hear the slight change in his tone.
“Why, what are you doing?” I return with a grin.
“I’m in bed too,” he replies.
“Okay…” I invite. I know what he’s thinking, but I’m waiting for him to make the first move.
“So, what are you wearing?”
And there it is.
I glance down at my matching bunny-print pyjama top and pants. “Oh, I’m wearing my red lace bra and panties, you know, the ones you love,” I lie.
There’s silence on the other end, until, “No, you’re not!” he exclaims. “You’re in the fluffy bunnies, aren’t you?”
Uh oh…busted! “No, I’m not!” I deny quickly, but I can’t keep the pretence up for long. “Okay, you got me,” I sigh. “I’m in the bunnies.”
“Aha, I knew it,” he chuckles.
“So, what are you wearing?” I return quickly.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I gulp.
“Uh huh, absolutely nothing,” he confirms.
“Huh,” I exhale, my body beginning to heat up at his words.
“So, here I am,” he starts, almost conversationally. “Completely naked and craving for your touch.”
“Oh, God,” I murmur, as a picture of him nude and aroused pops into my mind. My hand slips under my pyjama shirt, drifting up over my skin.
“I want you so much, Lizzie,” he breathes.
“I want you, too, Max,” I tell him. “It’s been torture without you the last two months. I don’t know how I’m gonna last ‘til Christmas.”
“Me either.”
“Touch yourself for me, Max,” I tell him eagerly. “I wanna feel like I’m close to you.”
“Only if you touch yourself too,” he groans.
“Oh, I already am,” I murmur, my hand now cupping my breast.
“God,” he gasps. There’s a pause, before, “Liz?”
“Yeah?”
“Take your clothes off.”
“Okay,” I breathe. “Just give me a sec.”
I gently place the phone on my bedside table and slide out of the bed. I pull my shirt over my head, letting it drop to the ground and then slip my pants over my hips. As they slide down my legs, a tingle of arousal and excitement runs through my body. I get back under the covers and pick up the phone again.
“Okay, I’m unclothed,” I inform him softly.
“God, I wanna hold you,” he murmurs. “I wanna feel your soft, smooth skin beneath my hands.”
“Max…” I breathe, my eyes drifting closed at the sensations his words are invoking in me. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to touch yourself, Liz.”
“Where?” I question breathlessly.
“Your breasts, your nipples,” he says. “Touch them for me.”
Normally, I would be put off by dirty talk, but I haven’t had any in weeks and I’m so turned on at this moment that I don’t care anymore. My hand moves to my breast, squeezing and caressing it gently.
“God…” I breathe, shivering with excitement. “Stroke yourself for me, Max,” I tell him.
“Whatever you say,” he whispers, before emitting a low groan a second later.
“Yes…” I murmur, as my nipple responds to the ministrations of my fingers. I can’t take it anymore; I have to do something to ease the ache between my legs. “I’m so wet, Max,” I whisper as I slip my hand between my legs. “And it’s because of you.”
I hear his sharp intake of breath and it only turns me on more. I trace my clit lightly with my fingers as I listen to his ragged breathing on the other end.
“God, Liz, this feels so good.”
“I know,” I reply, my fingers now stroking my clit rhythmically, the pleasure building steadily. I close my eyes as I imagine that he’s here with me and that I can actually reach out and touch him.
“Max,” I say softly. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m…my hand is…Oh, God,” he gasps. I already know what he’s doing, I can hear his movements, but I need to hear him say it. “I’m imagining that it’s your hand on me, making me want to explode.”
“Me, too,” I tell him breathlessly. “It’s like your fingers are stroking me; making me see stars.”
“Oh, God, Liz! It feels so good,” he groans.
“I love you, Max,” I gasp, my orgasm fast approaching. Suddenly, I’m very glad that Grace is at her parents’ house tonight and can’t hear what I’m doing.
“I love you,” he gasps. “God, I can’t…I’m coming, Liz…”
“Me too…Oh, God…yes…yes…” I mumble incoherently, the combination of his heated words and the movement of my fingers on my clit sending my body over the edge. As I ride out the waves of pleasure, I can vaguely hear the slowing of Max’s breathing as he recovers from his climax, but I’m too caught up in my own to get any words out.
Eventually, the pleasure begins to die down and I sink back down into the mattress, my body relaxed and sated. Man, I haven’t felt this good in a long time; it’s just not the same without Max being present in some form or another, if you catch my drift. And judging by his next words, Max seems to agree.
“Man, that was good,” he murmurs breathlessly. “I needed that.”
“Me, too,” I smile contentedly. “Although, actually being with you would have been so much better.”
“I know,” he says, a hint of regret in his voice. “It’s not long now, though. Only four weeks to go.”
“And they’ll be the longest four weeks of my life,” I inform him, as I try to stifle a yawn.
“You okay?” he questions.
“I’m fine; just tired,” I tell him.
“Right, it’s almost midnight there, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Plus, you just wore me out, mister.”
“And you’ve just worn me out,” he returns. “So we’re even.”
I yawn again.
“Okay, I’m gonna let you get some sleep now. Happy Thanksgiving, Liz.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I return.
“And sweet dreams,” he adds.
“Oh, they’ll definitely be sweet after that,” I murmur, as I struggle to keep my eyes open.
“Bye, Liz…I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I whisper. “Bye, Max.”
He hangs up and I sleepily press the ‘end call’ button on my phone, letting it slip from my fingers as sleep overtakes my body.
Only four more weeks to go…
TBC…
Thanks 
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