A/N Sorry, another delay...lots going on, but here's a rather hot chapter for you all. Sorry if it offends any sensitive souls out there, Lizzie deserves some love! xxx

Chapter Forty Two

Lizzie woke, Oscar still wrapped around her, she didn't think that he'd wake for a while; he'd been quite drunk when he'd crawled into her bed. But as usual, Nate was an early riser.

"Shall we go get some breakfast?"

He looked up from his position crossed legged in front of the TV, "is Dad coming?"

She shook her head, "he's asleep, he'll probably be awake when we get back."

The café was a ten minute walk away, and Nate skipped all the way, holding her hand. He loved eye-spy, not that he quite got the rules, they'd relegated the game to colours instead of letters as his phonetics weren't always great and it often got confusing. As he named a red car, and the blue sky she vowed again to spend more time reading with him. She'd neglected that the last few months. But then since Janis had died, then everything had changed. Squeezing his hand, she joined in his game with more vigour, until they arrived at the café.

He ordered pancakes, he always did, and she plumped for eggs benedict...and coffee. They did great coffee. Nate was a tonic, chattering away about school, his friends, and all that he wanted to do.

It was absorbing to move into a world where Paw Patrol and Lego Batman ruled the world. It was so much of a relief to not have to think about what once again waited for her at home, because she knew that she couldn't, and didn't want, to resist Oscar anymore. She just felt the same sense of foreboding that had haunted her since Oscar had entered her life.

Oscar's head throbbed, and he rued Mike's influence as he tried to open his eyes. When he did, he realised that he was in Lizzie's bed, with little recognition of the night that had passed. His watch informed him that it was after midday, and he was aware of how quiet the house was.

As he climbed out of an invigorating shower, he finally heard voices from downstairs. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he descended the stairs as quickly as he could. To find Lizzie lying on the sofa, a giggling Nate sat astride her trying to tickle her, but she was winning the fight.

It was a sight that stopped him in his step, a family scene, a tableau of happiness. And it affected him, like a kick to the gut. This was what he wanted more than anything.

"Dad!" Nate spotted him first and his shout pulled him from his trance.

"Is this a two way battle? Or can the Champion of Tickling take on you both?"

Nate squealed and Oscar was rewarded with a sparkle in Lizzie's eyes, as she offered, "Nate, I think me and you need to show your father how this is done!"

And just like that, a two on one chase around the house started, when Oscar grabbed Nate and started to tickle him, Lizzie grabbed him from behind, tickling him until he released Nate who ran off screeching. Instead of chasing him, as Lizzie expected, he turned on her, wiggling his fingers and his eyebrows menacingly.

"So you think that you can help him and survive yourself?"

He flexed his fingers, watching her chest rise and fall, the flush flood up her neck; she started to shake her head, stepping backwards away from him. He felt like a cat, toying with a mouse, as he let her confidence build. Then he threw himself at her, reaching for her with his superior reach. Before the shriek of fear had left her mouth, he'd wrestled her to the ground, pinning her down with his strength. He couldn't see her face, but he could hear her breathing, as rapid as her heartbeat, and feel the tremors through her body. His finger slipped beneath the knitted sweater she wore and skimmed over her ribs, before digging in slightly, and moving them.

Immediately a peal of laughter escaped her lips, and he took that opportunity to crawl up her body whilst she was rendered incapacitated by his fingers. She wriggled and gasped, laughed and almost cried, until she had squashed one of his hands under her body, and managed to trap a leg with one of her thighs. Then her hand snuck under his shirt and made for his ribs.

She didn't know that he was horrendously ticklish and that this was his idea of hell, he'd honestly believed that she'd not get close to this. Her face was contorted in the exquisite torture of his ministrations, but she had a glint back in her eye. They were entwined, closer than they had been for far too long, and as the softness of her fingers danced along his trunk, he knew he couldn't deal with her tickling him.

So he lowered his lips on to hers.

He expected protest, resistance, but there was none, only what he read as relief, and desire. Her lips parted, her tongue darted out to meet his, and her fingers splayed across his muscles, instead of digging in, tormenting him. She moaned, and it was so erotic that he couldn't find the lust that caused him to harden against her leg. He wanted her more than anything, and like this, stripped back, nothing between them, he knew that she felt the same way.

"Aren't you coming to get me?"

Nate's voice as he ran into the room caused them to pull apart fortunately in time, seeing them on the floor; he threw himself into the melee and started to tickle them both.

It was Oscar who wrestled himself free, then grabbing Nate under his arm; he collapsed onto the sofa with Nate on his lap.

"So tell me, about your day."

As Nate told him about their breakfast and the trip to the park, Lizzie pulled herself together, literally. What had almost happened...what had been only a step away, would have been a huge mistake. Not because she didn't want it to happy, it seemed almost inevitable, but that she had been a few seconds away from ripping off Oscar's clothes, there on the lounge floor, with Nate wandering around, ready to discover them. She glanced across at them both, sat together on the sofa and her heart melted. Oscar had taken to fatherhood so readily, and without any real warning. Nate was so much luckier than he could have been.

The next few hours were taken up with yet another Pixar film as it had started to rain and plans for the boys to play football or more bike practice. It went perfectly with pizza and wine, though Oscar was a little reluctant at first. But he soon forgot any form of hangover. But every moment that Nate wasn't watching his father, and with Cars on, that was virtually the whole time, Oscar spent eyeing her in what could only be described as a seductive manner. She'd blushed a million times as she tried to focus on the occurrences in Radiator Springs, but it was hard when she was torn between exploding and wanting to jump right on top of him. And he knew how she was struggling...but then the bulge in his shorts betrayed his calm exterior. She'd never see Lightning McQueen again without remembering the frustration and desire of that afternoon.

Oscar offered to bath Nate and do the nightly routine...which meant that she could close her eyes for half an hour, she used to always sleep on a Sunday afternoon...in the pre Nate days anyway. She didn't think she'd sleep the relentless throb deep in her pelvis, the hardness of her nipples within her bra.

But she must have, because she was woken by the strangest sensation, opening her eyes, she glanced down towards her feet, the opposite end of the sofa to see her big toe in Oscar's mouth. He knelt a on the floor, cradling her feet in his hands, his tongue swirling around her toe.

She grimaced, "are you sure that isn't too gross?"

He laughed, licking his way up to her ankle, he shook his head. "Not at all..."

Goose bumps and tingles, electric shocks, her body was a slave to him as he travelled with his mouth up to the bottom of the three quarter length leggings that she wore. When he reached the fabric, he lifted an eyebrow

"Something's in the way," he was nudging the fabric with his nose.

She chuckled, "oh yes?"

He nodded, then slid his hands up over her thighs, under her sweater to the waist band of the leggings. All the while, his eyes never left hers. She knew if she gave the slightest hint that he'd stop, immediately, but she couldn't. She'd wanted this since she'd woken to find him beside her during the night. Instead she lifted her hips so that he could slide the fabric off with ease.

Would her heart stop if it beat any faster? She was excited beyond belief, but was also terrified, it was a heady combination. His lips returned to her calf, and as he nibbled up one leg, her fingers reciprocated on the other leg. She watched for a moment, meeting his hungry eyes with her own, but once he got to her knee, parted her thighs to continue, she could do nothing but drop her head back, eyes closed and concentrate on feeling him, climb, touch, tease.

He bit her thigh, a few inches from the seam of her underwear, and she gasped, her head snapping up, her eyes finding his. He elaborately licked the bruise as he eyeballed her, then parting his lips from her skin, he murmured, "get naked...now."

She should hate his command, but the combination of his wild eyes appearing from between her thighs and the lust in his voice, only served to overwhelm her. She couldn't have resisted if she wanted to.

With a grunt, she sat up and tugged the sweater over her shoulders, tossing it to one side, all the time his tongue toyed with her skin, and his eyes stared at her hotly. When she unclasped her bra, baring herself fully, he closed his eyes for a moment, cursing against her skin.

Then with a moan, he met her eyes once more, watching as she ran her hands over her body, teasing him with her actions. His eyes rolled, and for a moment she thought he might faint, but then he was back, hungry, powerful. Without another thought, he tore her knickers off, then her fingers joined his tongue, and he was in her, on her, all around her.

Every orgasm at his hands seemed more powerful and absorbing than the last one, and tonight's was no exception. She felt as though she melted into a puddle, and it was only through almost closed eyes, that she watched him disrobe and slide into her, there and then on the couch.

He was still wearing his t-shirt, but as she pulled at the hem, he dragged it off, tossed it away, as naked as she was. And it was heaven.

Oscar couldn't believe it, he was slumped over Lizzie, still inside her, their bodies still joined intimately, and it was beyond anything he thought they'd experience again. Everything about her fitted, to him, perfectly. He just had to make her see that.

"Shit Lizzie," he lifted his head from her shoulder and cupped her cheek with a hand. She rolled her head so that her eyes met his, and sighed, a perfect sound of contentment. "That was..."

Before he could find a descriptor, she nodded, "perfect."

He couldn't help but nod, as enthusiastically as a teenager, "it was. We have to do this; I can't let you stop it."

She gave another sigh, sliding her hands along his muscular back to his hard, rounded buttocks, "I know."

It was all he wanted to hear.