Accidental Love

Falling Out is Easy....

"But you promised!" She couldn't help it. She knew she was whining.

She'd been devastated when he'd told her he was going away to Vietnam for months. Then she was excited, the prospect of a trip overseas to visit him. Two months had gone by in a heartbeat. The promise of visiting him in a month or so made her feel less mean spirited. This was a fantastic opportunity for him.

Then she was sick. Every day for a week. She was pregnant.

She was terrified and excited and terrified and amazed and terrified. She was also in a dilemma. Tell him and have him worry the whole time he was away. Tell him and have him resent she'd stolen away their "honeymoon year." Not tell him and keep the biggest of lies going for the best of reasons.

She plumped for compromise. Not tell him until she visited him. That way, he would only have to worry for half the time he was away. She'd reconciled her conscience to that.

Now he was taking that away. "Sorry love, no visits. Can't get visas for people not directly involved with the production." He told her in a passing phone call one lunchtime a week before he was due to fly out. "It's no big deal, not with facetime. We'll still see each other."

Her sense of proportion flew out the window fuelled by her guilt.

"Oh yeah, facetime is just great. Maybe we should just use that all the time, eh?" She was being childish and unreasonable, but in her current frame of mind, she actually didn't give a toss.

"Oh, dont be stupid. You know I wanted you to come over.  It's not my fault, love. I don't like it any more than you do."

"Oh no? You're not the one sitting here waiting. Sitting here worrying. About your safety. About you working too hard. About you forgetting about me."

"FORGETTING about you? Where the HELL did that come from? Now you're being bloody ridiculous. This isn't like you. What's really wrong? Why are you being so... " he trailed off, trying to keep a lid on his anger.

"Childish? Is that the word? Selfish? HUMAN?" she was losing the rag completely now. She knew it, too, but her hormones just made her into some sort of emotional terminator. She just kept going and going.  Kicking without mercy.

"Now that's enough! You can't come Becky, none of our families can. Please dont make me out to be something I'm not. I'm hanging up now before we really fall out.  I honestly thought you would understand. I see I was wrong.  Maybe facetime is exactly what we DO need."

The screen went black, and she hurled the phone onto the sofa with a thunderous curse.

"FUCK YOU TOM HIDDLESTON" she screamed at the top of her voice. FUCK. YOU."  Frustrated tears welled up and she sat down with a thump.

"Fuck you." She whispered, then slowly she leaned back. Adrenaline still coursing, every nerve ending on fire. She realised that was EXACTLY what she wanted. To fuck him. Hard.

Standing up, she walked upstairs. His clothes lay on the chair where he'd discarded them after his morning run. 

Ordinarily, she hated the smell of his sweaty t shirt, but now? Weirdly, it was as much of a turn on as any suggestive smile, and "come to bed" look he'd ever given her.

Picking it up, she buried her face in it and sniffed. The remnants of his testosterone fuelled workout drove her now hormonal senses into overdrive.

Falling back onto the bed, clutching the scent of desire, she made the most of being alone in the house.

Tom slammed the phone down. What the HELL had that all been about? He knew she would be disappointed, but THAT? It was on a level he'd never imagined she would go to.

It really wasn't his fault.  He'd tried. He'd even briefly thought about getting her added onto the payroll as an assistant runner. He stopped short of actually doing it, though.  Not only was it blatantly immoral, but it was also a gross abuse of his position. He was shocked at himself. Becky, in all her vitriol, would NEVER have asked such a favour.

As he calmed down, he realised she was scared. This would be their first extended separation. He was also a little worried if he was honest. He'd never given her any reason to doubt him. There was something fuelling this outburst. Was it guilt.

She was hiding something. He thought he knew.   He was wrong. Not the hiding, the reason.

Tom thought she'd gone off him. She was afraid to tell him. Or she loved him still but was no longer IN love with him. He felt awful at shouting at her. Awful for making her shout at him. He would apologise tonight. Try to make it up to her. He would try to make her remember why she used to fancy him.

He smiled. He would give her a night to remember for all the right reasons.

Becky sat up, panting and shaky.  Her body had never felt more alive, her sense heightened, her mind screaming as she had brought herself to a shuddering climax. Eyes closed, back arching, she had relived every moment of her times with Tom.

Now, as she sat in the bedroom, she knew what she wanted. She wanted him. And she would make sure he wanted her too. Apologise in every way, verbal and physical.  Looking at the clock, she had a couple of hours before he would be home.

She smiled and chewed her lip.  Plenty of time. Stripping what remained of her clothes and dumping them all in the hamper, she took a long leisurely shower. Running her hands over her stomach, she imagined she could feel the little life blossoming inside.

Drying off, she moisturised every inch, the perfumed lotion making her skin silky. She contemplated what to wear.  The silk underwear he'd given her for her birthday? The long, slim fitting dress? No.  As her eyes flitted over the wardrobe's contents, she saw exactly what she wanted.

Pulling out Tom's blue pinstriped button down shirt, she held it to her nose.  Shivering with delight, it smelled faintly of him. It was clean, she'd laundered it the other day, but after owning it for so long, it was ingrained with the essence of him.

She tried several options, finally settling on open to the waist, the last two or three buttons done up to hold it in place.  For a split second she considered underwear then discarded the idea.  No, if she was going to do this, she was going the whole nine yards.

Her only concession was a pair of skyhigh heels. Her 'stripper heels' as she jokingly called them. Black, shiny, sexy as hell.

Finishing ger hair, she was just spritzing perfume when she heard his car draw up outside.

Quickly, she went and stood on the second to last step of the stairs, legs slightly apart, hands on hips.  Her heart was pounding, her whole body throbbing.

The door opened. He walked in without looking up, dropping hus keys on the hall table, his bag, and jacket on the chair.

She coughed slightly, and he looked up in shock. His mouth fell open at the sight that met his eyes. She extended her arm and beckoned him over.

As soon as he got within arms reach, she'd grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely. Her tongue had snaked its way into his mouth,

"What the..." he'd gasped in delighted wonder. She'd silenced him with a hiss.

"Shut up and fuck me Tom" he could feel the heat of her body, hear her urgent arousal "fuck me...hard."