Sam and Tom

Sam let out a long slow breath as she walked back toward her side of the room, straightening her skirt as she moved, “That was close,” she said, a nervous chuckle in her voice.

Getting back to his feet, Tom snickered, “You know, we could get even closer,” he suggested, arching an eyebrow.

“No, I mean Tess walking in when she did, that was close,” replied Sam, eyes lingering on the door a moment longer before looking across the room at the little figure on Tess’s bed.

Grinning impishly, he moved closer to the edge of the bed, “I’ll take what’s behind curtain number one,” he jested.

“What?” she asked, not comprehending the reference.

He shook his head and knelt down, patting the bed with a hand.

Sam shook her head, hair sweeping back and forth across her back before crossing back over to stand near him, “Tess is right, you are bad!” she asserted, brows narrowed. Should I she wondered?

“Why am I bad? Because I see this incredibly beautiful exotic woman who fills me with desire and I want to be near her? Is that bad?” he asked, face and tone dramatic.

She looked at him for a moment. So small, so delicate, but still so handsome.

“You know when you shifted and I was drawn against you, I could sense how you felt when I had my hands on you, your heat, before we were so rudely interrupted,” he said, flashing her his charming smile before closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “And your lovely scent, so fresh, so tantalizing, teasing my senses, making me want to kiss you, this makes me bad?” he asked, opening his eyes again and meeting hers.

Sam counted mentally to five in her head, otherwise she knew she would have just grabbed him and plunged his little body into her. She chuckled nervously again, her resolve holding but steadily disintegrating. “Yes all of those things make you bad. If you would have spoken to me like that when you were normal sized, I probably would have slapped your face.” Or surrendered herself to him. But now she was the goddess and he was the supplicant. Very arousing.

“But I’m not normal sized,” he said, lowering his eyes and feigning diffidence.

Sam cleared her throat, “Haven’t you just endured a very trying ordeal, I mean, look at you. You are more bruise than not at the moment,” she said pointing a finger down at him.

“They say an artist suffers for his art,” he lamented, poking at some of the marks on his arms. “Doesn’t hurt though.”

Again her thoughts drifted back, wondering what it might feel like to have him inside her. She wasn’t put off by the idea he had probably been inside both Janine and her mother, the things he must have learned from the experience. She had had sex before herself, twice, both times not overly fulfilling or rewarding, but imagining the things Tom might do, no half dozen strokes and done. She could keep him there for hours, delighting her.

A slow smile crept across his face, almost like he could read her mind. She blushed, the color darkening the hue of her rich skin.

The door opened again, Tess came in carrying a small plastic bag containing a handful of sundries to aid in providing Tom a comfortable habitat.

Tom frowned, “That didn’t take long,” he said sourly, eyes locked on Sam.

Tess shook her head and knelt down in front of her bed, setting the bag and pulling out the box she had used for him before and removing the lid. “No, I was able to get the things I needed pretty easy,” she said without bothering to look at him, using the items to decorate the interior of the box for his habitat.

Nodding, she put the lid back on the box and slid it under the bed.

“Cozy,” he mumbled.

Sitting back on her heels, hands on hips, Tess looked at him, “I don’t know how comfortable I am with you running around naked all the time,” she said.

He grinned, “Are you trying to stifle my freedom of expression? What are you a fascist?”

Tess frowned.

Looking over at Sam, Tom asked, “Does my nudity offend you?”

Scrunching up her face, she shook her head, “Not really,” she replied.

“See?” he said, pointing.

Tess shrugged, “Don’t whine to me if you get cold,” she cautioned. “What’s really funny is when you here the last time, you were all about wanting clothes,” she chided.

“I’ve grown accustomed to my more primitive self,” he supposed. “Want to see the helicopter?” he asked, swiveling his hips.

“Are you serious right now? Do you want to see the fly swatter?” Tess said, raising her open right hand over him as if to slap down. “I’m still pissed that you took off on me buster!” she asserted.

He raised his hands, “Relax, I’m sorry,” he apologized, trying to quell her ire.

“My fuse is still very short,” she cautioned.

“I get it, you’re not happy. I made you worry,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’m a cad, a cur, I’m navel lint.”

“So how did you get all bruised up?” Tess asked, changing the subject.

“Janine,” he answered.

“And?”

He looked from his sister to Sam and shook his head, “You don’t want to know,” he said, “She has some very unusual appetites.”

“Serves you bloody right,” Tess said, nodding.

“Lina on the other hand,” he smiled dreamily.

Tess pursed her lips and shook her head. Pulling the box she had just put under the bed back out, she plucked him off the bed and deposited him inside.

“Just make sure you knock before peeling the roof of my house off, I might be, shall we say, occupied,” he said, waggling his head from shoulder to shoulder.

Tess frowned. “You should count yourself lucky I don’t fart in the box before I put the lid back on,” she warned, slipping the fitted lid on and gently pushing the box back under the bed. Getting up, she turned and sat on her bed, relief on her face as she leaned back and looked toward the ceiling.

Sam came over and sat down beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders, “It’s alright now,” she consoled.

Tess chuckled, “Not by a long shot. Tom is like some little demented gremlin, not pernicious, just capricious. I almost feel it’s as if he does it purposely to vex me,” she said, exasperated.

Sam pulled Tess closer in a side hug and laughed softly.