The Love Abroad

The next couple of weeks, my life became busy, busy, and busier.

I started to become more social amongst the friends I made at Uni as well as Tom's friends. He often invited Kris and I to dinner with his circle of theatre friends, which was nice.

Though, I wished I lived on campus because no matter how hard I tried, Kris & I were always late to class.

Every single time.

However, we both had high GPA's so it didn't affect us too much.

Now you're probably wondering how Tom & I act around each other now, since the kiss. Or kisses.

There's no awkwardness. Though Kris claims that she can feel the sexual tension between us.

Kris - always rooting for something that will never happen.

Tom and I will never happen.

Friends, remember? We both decided that we were going to be friends. That is it.

Torrential rain expected later tonight. The sky is a mixture of light/dark grey, black with specks of white. No sun in sight.

I love rain, but seriously, this is getting a little annoying.

"Looks like our flight is delayed," Kris mumbles from the couch with her laptop resting on her knees. "I should call Heathrow, maybe they can tell us if it's expected to be canceled."

I've never been to Paris & I wasn't going to let this rain ruin my chances. "Isn't there a train to Paris we could take? If the flight got canceled?" Kris shakes her head from her seat, "If there was, I'm refusing. We spend too much time on trains Marie. I want to fly!"

I literally have a list of places I plan on visiting while I'm studying in England and it helps that all these cities are fairly close and cheap. Paris was Numero Dos, just behind Madrid. Though, the trip to Spain probably won't be until I leave to go back to the States.

I open the door to our veranda outside and lean against the railing, with raindrops falling on my head. For now, the rain is letting out and I see a ray of sunshine trying to push through those dark clouds.

"The trip is a go. Sure, our flight is delayed 45 minutes but it's not canceled. WE ARE GOING TO PARIS!" she screams mimicking a Parisian accent. I raise my arms above my head in celebration.

About an hour later we passed through security & boarded the plane to Paris. My heart was racing faster than the horses running for the Triple Crown. I hate flying. Luckily, it's only a two-hour flight.

I haven't spoken to Tom is about a week. He's very in demand with interviews everyday and television appearances. Plus, he's still filming parts of Henry V, which should wrap today or tomorrow. I can't remember. Hell, I don't even think he knows I'm not in London.

"Do you know French, Kris?" I look at her across the seat in the taxi. "You don't need to know French in Paris, Marie." She says shrugging.

Well we're screwed.

We arrive at this beautiful hotel, Hotel Ritz where the cheapest room is $2000. Kris' parents paid for our trip as a very early present for Kris unofficially being accepted into RADA. Lord bless them and their giving hearts.

The bellhop shows us our private suite with photos of Coco Chanel & Ernest Hemingway filling the halls. We have a spectacular view of Paris, the city of love. There are two rooms in our suite, both with a private bathroom, walk-in closet & a private balcony. Absolutely stunning, I've never seen anything like this.

"Dude! We have a tray of chocolate and champagne!!"

I run into the common room to see Kris already opening the bottle with a butcher knife. "Watch this," she says excitedly, popping the neck of the bottle off making the champagne flow down into our glasses.

Talent.

I take a sip and truthfully, I hate champagne but since this is a special occasion, why not enjoy this?

"So, dinner tonight. We have guests," Kris says in between gulps. "Guests? Who?"

She sets her glass down only to walk towards the kitchen, knife in hand. "Guests. That's all you need to know. They're going to help us have a little fun," she winks with a devilish smile.

If I know Kris like I think I do, tonight is going to be crazy.

And after these past few weeks, I need to get a little crazy.

We arrive at this bistro right by the Eiffel Tower called Au Bon Accueil - reservations required.

Yet another thing her parents bought for us.

I was interested to meet these so-called guests. All the way over here, I kept asking Kris questions. Who are they? Do I know them? No answer. Well no answer that was detailed enough for me to even make a decent guess.

Entering the restaurant, I'm glad I decided to bring a 'fancy' dress. Everyone in here is in formal wear, men dressed like penguins and their ladies all dolled up for a red carpet.

Our table is right next to a window, overlooking the giant field in front of the Eiffel Tower. I see a family having a picnic with their two little boys. The boys want their father to play with them, but the father is too distracted by the mother who’s dressed in a very flattering summer dress.

He's totally getting laid tonight.

"Shall I take your drink orders?" the waiter says interrupting my little daydream.

"Not yet. We're still waiting on two more people," Kris says with her eyes locked on the menu. I look at the waiter and smile, letting him know that there's at least one person who’s not rude.

After a half hour, the waiter comes to inform Kris that the two guests have arrived. Ten feet behind him enter two guys wearing casual suits, one without a blazer. I can't get a glimpse of their face until they're about 5 feet away.

With a little help from the sun shining through the window, I recognize them. The first man is a dirty blonde with a very Matt Smith style of hair. He's tall but not as tall as the guy behind him. It's Luke.

So if Luke is here that means....

The no-blazer-wearing, tall and lean guy walking behind Luke is the one and only Tom Hiddleston.

I'm in shock. Surprised. Excited. Confused.

"Well hello beautiful ladies." Luke is being modest, bringing in Kris for a hug. Tom sneaks from behind Luke, tilting his head to the side with a smile - his eyes looking for an answer.

"I don't know what to say," I walk towards him. "I thought you had to finish shooting?" He's standing next to me, pulling my chair out as an invite to sit. "We wrapped this morning. Kris invited us to come out and spend the weekend with you two. I hope that is okay? I certainly don't want to intrude on a girl's weekend."

I guarantee that if I said it was a problem, Tom would be on the next flight to London. That's the kind of guy he is.

"Oh no, no, no. It's fine. I just wasn't expecting anyone else. Especially since it's been over a week since we last spoke," I say, stuttering my words. "I know you've been busy."

The waiter comes back and we order both drinks and entrees. The conversation was stimulating with talks about politics, film and art with a few of Luke' pathetic jokes. Someone even mentioned drinks and dancing.

"I can't dance," I say ashamed.

"I'll teach you. We'll have a jolly time!" Tom's face is lit up and the inflection in his voice is so adorable. I've heard of Tom's dancing escapades from his friends. The boy is apparently Lord of the Dance.

"Okay. Shall we go then?"

Now I am not an expert on Parisian culture but I have heard of their insane nightlife. I've watched movies and I've seen pictures. Remember when Kris said this night was going to be crazy? Well this club is definitely crazy.

Loud music, neon lights, people screaming and clouds of strong cologne means that we've found ourselves in one of Paris' hottest spots. "Grab a booth, we'll get the drinks!" Luke yells grabbing Kris by the hand leading her to the bar. Tom and I are in charge of the booth selection.

After walking around the club for 5 minutes, we find one that's bar accessible and far enough from the dance floor. Kris and Luke come back with 4 mystery shots and 4 pints of beer. We gather in a circle and lift our shots in the air, pouring the liquid down our throats.

Jager Bombs. I know Jager when I taste it. And boy was that good.

Tom leans into me hand out, "May I have this dance?" I look at Kris who is canoodling with Luke in the booth, both laughing over another of his crappy jokes. "Might as well. Those two seem busy." Tom glances over at them, shaking his head.

Once on the dance floor Tom begins to dance. I can't describe his style. It's definitely unique. Alas, he is a pretty damn good dancer.

"You literally dance like a loon, Tom!" He smiles, grabbing my hands pulling me close to him.

"Time for you to learn." His hands fall on my hips, moving me left and right. "Find your rhythm. Let yourself go."

I move my eyes up to see Tom's face to find him staring at my lower half. His forehead is collecting little drops of sweat and he's licking his lips. I take his hand in mine pulling him off the dance floor.

"Lets get out of here." Without any disagreement, he follows me out to the street, hailing a car to pick us up. "Hotel Ritz, si'l vous plait."

We barely made it into the elevator before we attacked each other.

I didn't care who saw us but all I know is I just had to have him. Right now. I needed the feeling of Tom, the taste of Tom. I wanted to know what the fuss was all about.

He pushes me against the clod elevator door, giving my body instant Goosebumps. The swiftly, he crashed his wet, alcohol-stained lips into mine before his tongue swam into my mouth. He was kissing me hard, pulling away every few seconds to look at me, as if watching for my reaction.

The elevator stopped, ringing a bell letting us know we've arrived at the suite. I push him off me, digging my hands into my purse to find the room key, Tom nibbling on my shoulder. "Hurry Up," he said hungrily. I slide the key into the lock, opening the door.

I turn around to face Tom, staring determinedly, showing him how much I wanted him. He lifts me in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as he darts to my bedroom.

Pinning me to the bedpost, I felt his fingers crawl slowly into my center. I stood there, vulnerable. Had I been sober, this wouldn’t be happening. A few more slides of his fingers in my clit, my breathing became heavy. Short grunts of pleasure came out of me. I could no longer pretend in my mind that I didn't want this; he could have me whenever he wanted.

"I've never felt this way, Marie." He said as he slid another finger, feeling my wetness. His other hand moved to my chest, kneading my left breast through my dress. I gasped and grunted, my arms trailing up his.

Then, in one deep push, he bent his fingers into a curve while inside me, and twisted his hand before slowly pulling out. I hissed as the feeling of his short nails scraping my insides.

"Uhhh, fuck..." I breathed out. He looked at me with a grin that reminded me of something Loki would do. Not the misunderstood Loki in 'Thor' but the I'm-going-to-destroy-everything-and-your-ovaries Loki from 'The Avengers.'

My mind was racing, confused at my actions. How could I be a friend with him yet I want to ravage him? Whatever. I'm just going to have some fun. I thought.

I unbuckled his pants, sliding one hand between his thighs, holding him. I begin working on his surprisingly large member.

I heard him grunt at my touch. I began to grind my hips as his fingers worked inside me. I buried my nails into his skin, scraping a bit to show him how good he made me feel. My other hand continued working on his 7-inch hard-on, pleasuring him by using different strokes and pressures in my grasp.

"I want you so fucking much." He whispered as he leaned and sucked on the fleshy part in between my neck and collarbone. Even curse words sound exotic with his English accent. It made everything sound so dirty.

"Prove it...." I writhed under him. I couldn't pretend I didn't want this anymore. It was impossible. The alcohol was dissipating; this was what I really wanted.

At my very word, he lifted me up, moving me to the bed. I remove my dress as he slips off his pants & shirt before straddling me. His hips maneuver between my legs that are sprawled out. Biting my lip, I wait for his entrance.

Tom kneels down thumbing my clot before putting the finger in his mouth and sucking it off, then looking at me in admiration.

His other hand graces the side of my face as I feel his massive head touch my entrance, teasing me. I lift my hips a bit, yearning for him to get inside me already.

"Please, Tom. I can't take---- uhhhhh fuck!!!"

I screamed so loud, both in pain and in pleasure. He pushed into me so hard, so deep, with so much force it felt like he's rip my vagina. It felt so much bigger and I could feel it throb inside me.

He began pounding into me and I screamed at every thrust. The pain was unbelievable, ye the delicious friction kept me extremely wet. I felt his hand grasp my left breast, ripping my bra off to expose my bare chest.

Tom was acting crazy. I never even knew he had a side like this and the more I witnesses, no experienced it, I wanted more. Literally, it was like Loki overtook his soul and that this fictional character was the brains behind his incredible performance.

He was moaning so loudly and screaming my name, telling me I felt so good, telling me he was going to do me good. He thrusted in and out of me vigorously, so cavernous, hungry like a rabid beast. So intense, as if to prove my point.

He slams his mouth into mine, our tongues wrestling like a herd of hungry lions that just caught the perfect gazelle. My fingers trail through his reddish blonde hair, gently pulling his curls. The friction between our naked bodies is intense; the drops of sweat staining the white sheets.

"Marie..."He whispers, gasping for air. "I think I...I.... I"

As he picked up the pace, I began grinding my hips harder and harder. Instantaneously we both come. Tom falls directly on me, both of us breathing heavily, as if we just finished a marathon. My fingers move to his back where I gently scrape my nails, comforting him.

He rolls over to lie next to me, his arm forming a stand to lay his head on as he stares at me.

"So..." I said, digging my head into his chest. "What was it that you were.... thinking?"

Tom repositions himself so that our eyes are level. He moves the wet hair away from my eyes with a sincere smile.

"I think.... I think I...." He stutters a bit, struggling to find the words. "I think I love you." Whispering into my ear. My body freezes with my eyes almost ready to bulge out of the sockets.

"You...what...why...me?"

I pull myself away from Tom, grabbing my dress from the floor and slipping it on. I know this is my bedroom, my suite but at this point, I just want to flee France and head back home to London. Pretend like this never happened.

But Tom just sits there, sheets barley covering his bits with this hands in his lap, fingers crossed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that...I mean...I did, but not now. Not here. Not like this."

I began to feel dizzy; the room was becoming a blur. I knew this was a bad idea. A very, very, very bad idea. What happened to our promise? JUST TO BE FRIENDS. But no, I had to have a weak moment and now what?

What happens now?

"I think you should go. Before Luke has a freak out." I say pretending that I never heard him stumble those three evil words. Tom nods his head; standing up with the sheet falling from his tall, lean frame. He grabs his clothes, buckling his pants and buttoning his shirt.

He glances over at me. "I'll see you tomorrow for lunch? All four of us have reservations." I nod my head as he walks over to me, placing one finger under chin, lifting my eyes to his. He places a soft kiss upon my lips before he heads out the door.

I hear the echo of the suite door close reminding me that he left. Now what. I thought.

I turn on the flat screen in front of my bed, grab a pillow and try to forget what just happened as I fall into a deep slumber.

Without Tom lying next to me.