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Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found Here

Where we left Lois and Clark at the end of Part 216…

Clark sat up. “I’m sorry. I’ve been neglecting my duties. Which shoulder hurts, again?”

“Left,” Lois said hoarsely.

“Left. Got it!” he said. He looked down at his position on the bed. He was on the wrong side of Lois. He was about to float over her back to the other side of the bed when he saw the scar on her right arm. He ran his thumb over it. “This scar, on the other hand, I hate,” he said, kissing it anyway. “And that’s not a word I often use.”

Lois turned her face towards him. “Really? I love it.”

He scoffed. “You hate it as much as I do.”

“If I did, I would’ve let Lex get rid of it when he suggested it to the plastic surgeon,” she said, reaching up to caress Clark’s cheek. “It reminds me of the night I chose you over Superman.”

He closed his eyes. “Because he failed you.”

“No, you lunkhead,” she said, giving his cheek a soft slap. He opened his eyes. “I had chosen you before that psycho shot me. Anyway, you didn’t fail me. You were there for me that night and every day and night for months afterwards.” She reached over and set her hand on top of his hand still covering her bullet wound. “It reminds me to never let anyone or anything get between me and what I want.”

Her right hand slid from his cheek around to the back of his neck and drew his head down to hers, kissing his lips. She turned her body towards him a bit more and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.


Part 217

Clark was practically lying down next to her now. He only realized this when her hand moved from his neck to his waist. He tried to sit up, but Lois’s arm slid over his back in a manner that if he sat up, so would she. Moreover, she wasn’t wearing a top.

He placed one last kiss to her lips and then one to the tip of her nose. “I should really be getting back to your sore shoulder.” He took hold of her arm and brought it forward.

Lois’s fingers stopped at his waist again. “Lose the shirt, Chuck.”

“Pardon?”

She started to lift his shirt. “We have an inequality of clothing here, Clark. Lose the shirt.”

He set his hand on top of hers. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to lose your shirt the other morning when mine was off and, if I recall properly, I told you to wear a shirt for the massage.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid I might drool?” she asked dryly.

That was the least of his worries.

Clark closed his eyes and whispered the word, “Please.”

Lois dropped her hand and returned it back to its previous position under her jaw. “Then, again, who am I to refuse a free back massage?”

A part of him wished that she hadn’t given up so easily. That same part almost tore off his shirt in hopes she would return to his arms. His cooler head prevailed.

He floated above her to move to the other side, but then noticed that she wasn’t lying in the exact center of his bed. There wasn’t much space for him to sit on the other side of her. Technically, he could massage her shoulder while floating directly above her, but that felt too close, too intimate. Also, what if he fell? He knew from experience that wasn’t a good thing.

Lois opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him, hovering undecidedly above her. “Why don’t you sit on my seat?” she suggested, glancing towards her bottom. That action caused her to grimace in pain.

“Put your head down and stretch out your arms to the side,” he ordered, his voice turning to steel. Then, he did as she recommended; only, after his words, it felt more like his decision.

He kept his weight on his knees, which were on either side of her. Therefore, he wasn’t actually sitting on her, per se. He positioned himself more over her upper thighs rather than on her bottom. For some reason, he considered this more proper and less sexual.

She was right. He could reach her entire back from this spot. All the way from her hips to her neck, if he leaned over. It was more comfortable for him than twisting over her from the side.

That was when he discovered the error in his logic. This more proper spot was actually just as intimate as if he had been sitting on her bottom, if not more so. He bolted upright so that he was hardly touching her and pondered his new predicament.

“Kiss for your thoughts,” Lois offered a little while later with a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Global warming and its impact on Earth’s iceberg population,” he replied.

“Seriously?”

He shrugged. “That, and congressional politics with a little bit of golf thrown in for good measure.”

“Sorry. Those kinds of thoughts aren’t worth a kiss,” she grumbled.

She might have judged differently if she knew the thoughts he had experienced before having those thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “Where was I?”

“My arms.”

“Right,” he murmured, shifting forward so that he was less likely to bump into Lois so intimately while he worked on her sore muscles.

He worked down her right arm first. Starting at her shoulder, he slowly moved down her arm until he reached her fingers. He massaged each joint. Then, he worked back up her arm again.

“Keep this up and I’m going to fall asleep on you,” she murmured.

Clark smiled. He was okay with that. “If I had only known that this was the way to get you to sleep with me, I would’ve suggested it when we first met.”

“I didn’t want to sleep with you when we first met,” Lois said drowsily.

“Liar,” he whispered, kissing between her shoulder blades. “It’s just that a hero distracted you.”

She reached back and swatted him with her right hand. “Well, I wanted to sleep with him, so same thing.”

He chuckled. “You wanted to sleep with Superman when you first met him?” he teased, kissing her shoulder. The feeling had been mutual.

“Yeah,” she replied. “He wears his underwear on the outside of his suit. It’s a turn-on of mine.”

“Very funny.”

She giggled, so apparently she thought so.

“They’re shorts.” Underwear doesn’t have a belt.

“Maybe on Krypton, on Daisy Duke, or in a gay man’s fantasy. Sorry, Chuck, they resemble underwear.”

Clark pressed his lips together in annoyance as he sat back up to view her sore shoulder properly. He knew she was giving it back to him as much as he was ribbing her. “Can we just call them shorts?”

“We can, Mr. Picky-Pants, but for your information, nobody is calling them that.”

“The more we do, the more it will catch on,” he said.

She chuckled. “Whatever you say.” Apparently, she didn’t believe that would happen.

X-ray vision showed nothing medically wrong with her shoulder. It was probably just tension. It wasn’t as if she had strained it while they’d been dancing or while they had interviewed Detective Henderson from the bomb squad. Clark covered her shoulder area with a low beam of heat vision.

“Ooooh,” Lois moaned. “Keep that up and I might let you have your way with me.”

He didn’t doubt that. “I don’t make love with women who are passed out.”

“Good to know,” she murmured, lifting her head slightly. “I’m awake.”

He laughed quietly. “Sure, you are.” He dipped a finger back into the tub of vitamin E cream and rubbed it over his palms. Then, he pressed his hands into her shoulder.

Lois moaned again. “Keep that up, and I won’t need sex.”

Good to know, he thought, cracking a grin.

Clark worked all the muscles in her shoulder and then moved down her left arm as he had done with her right.

“We should make this a nightly ritual,” she whispered.

“You’d never want to leave my bed.”

“I don’t, now.”

“Shhhh,” he hushed. He didn’t want to have to think about politics and golf again.

“You’re up next,” she said. Her voice was barely audible.

Clark swallowed. He hadn’t forgotten the last time Lois had rubbed his body. That thought had kept him awake every night since.

“It’s the only way I can get you to take off your shirt.”

He laughed and returned to massaging her back. Turning on his low-beam heat-vision, he started at her neck and moved leisurely down her back. He followed the beam with his hands.

Lois moaned again. Only this time, he could hear her heart rate increase as well.

“Mmmmmm. More.”

He shifted his warming gaze to her ribcage as his hands rubbed just above that.

“Lower.”

His heat-vision reached her waist.

“Lower.”

He moved his position further down her legs, so that he could continue to warm up her torso.

“Lower.”

“Lois! I’m at your hips.”

“So?” she panted.

He resisted the urge to spank her, and started working back up her spine again.

“Spoil sport.”

Clark switched off his heat-vision when he reached her shoulders. He rubbed down her shoulder blades, massaging into her ribcage. What would it take to relax Lois enough to fall asleep?

“Kiss me,” she whispered as if reading his mind.

“As you wish,” he replied, lying down next to her.

She wrapped her right arm around his neck and pulled him towards her. She sucked his lip into her mouth. “Mmmm. You taste so good.”

He could say the same about her, only his lips were too busy to speak.

Lois shifted her body, so that her other arm wrapped around his neck as well. Her chest pressed into his pillow, which pressed into his chest.

His arm draped over her waist to hold her firmly in place. If they misplaced the pillow, he would be lost.

He had never known that rubbing her back could be so erotic… for him. He should have recalled sooner what it had been like to massage her arm while she was recovering from that gunshot wound. It had been the best feeling in his life, up until that moment.

Her hand moved down his arm, caressing his muscles as it went lower to his hand.

Clark’s cells were telling him to roll her onto her back, so that he could lie on top of her. His brain rebutted that bad idea. His body was the strongest in the world, yet in the battle for control, it was evenly matched with his brain. He gripped her hand in his instead as his brain won.

Lois shifted again, rolling more onto her back and his body rejoiced at this small setback for his controlling brain and happily obliged covering her. Their entwined hands swung over her head, moving him even more on top of her.

His brain fought against this action, but lost.

Her now-free left hand slipped under his shirt and started rubbing his lower back. He moaned; pleasure emanated from her touch and radiated to every part of his body as his hips bumped into hers.

Clark sat up, keeping his eyes closed in case the pillow had slipped. “We should stop,” he gasped, gulping for air. He hadn’t realized how out of breath he was.

He felt the bed dip under Lois’s weight as she too sat up. The pillow brushed against him as she tossed it to the head of the bed. He doubled his efforts not to see her bare chest by covering his eyes with his hands.

Lois set her hands on his thighs.

Clark drew a deep breath through his clenched teeth into his lungs and held it.

Her hands traveled up his thighs before he felt her sit down on his lap, her legs on either side of him.

“We should stop,” he repeated, his voice still sounding hoarse to his ears.

“You don’t want to stop.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted.

Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Relax,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I made that vow. Not until we’re married.”

“This is not a dress rehearsal for any wedding. I’m not in a white gown right now, Clark. You can look at me,” Lois replied.

“I know that.” Clark exhaled a sputtering breath as that image imprinted itself on his mind. “I love you, Lois…”

“Don’t you dare say ‘but’,” she warned under her breath.

He had no idea how he could go on. His usually rocket-fast mind was still stuck on that image of Lois dressed in white, walking down the aisle of a church towards him.

“You don’t want to touch me intimately unless we’re married?” she suggested after another long pause.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hmmmm. And what do you call the back massage you just gave me?” she asked.

Heavenly. “Medical attention.”

“I see.” She squeezed her bare chest against his and took a deep breath.

His skin felt as if it would burst into flames in its desire to rid itself of the pesky fabric of his shirt. “This is difficult for me, too, minha.”

“You’re making it difficult.”

“If it were easy it wouldn’t be much of a vow, now would it?” he returned.

“A year ago you were ready to take me in the store room of the Metro Club.”

Had it only been a year? It had felt like an eternity.

“I’m glad we waited,” he said, despite an ache in his heart and throughout his body, informing him that this statement was a lie. “That would’ve been inappropriate.”

“Yes, mainly because you were holding out on me about a lot of things,” she said sharply. She took another slow deep breath against his chest before saying softly, “The risk factor was part of the excitement, though; don’t you think?”

Oh, God, yes. Clark didn’t trust himself to speak those words, so he merely nodded.

“So, you don’t want to see me naked until… unless we’re married?” Lois asked.

“Given our history, it’s probably for the best.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Okay. How about a compromise? I want you to kiss me with your shirt off, but you don’t have to open your eyes.”

“How is that a compromise?”

“I’m not asking you to go to second base, merely kiss me,” she said. Her voice sounded shy, even if her words weren’t.

His heart sped out of his chest and rammed itself into his throat. He coughed. “You want to go to second base?”

“My definition, not yours,” she clarified.

“Naturally,” he said, his voice cracking. His original definition was out of the question.

“Clark, look at the evidence… well, not actually look at it… with your eyes. I mean examine it…” She gasped. “In your mind. Not physically handle the evidence before…”

Clark dropped his hands from his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to hers to stop her from rambling. It was a testament of how close they were sitting that he didn’t miss, being that he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

His chest was screaming out in agony when he finally let go of her lips. He wanted so desperately to feel her chest against his, no barriers, but he honestly didn’t think he could handle the sensory overload. Could he stop himself from going further if she wanted him to? He used all his strength and pushed that thought out of his mind.

“Right. Of course,” he said, answering her request to examine the evidence. “You’re the one here without a shirt. If you didn’t want me to…to… you wouldn’t be.”

“Exactly!” She chuckled. “And didn’t I say something about you not physically handling…?”

Clark raised his hands off her back. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m joking!” she retorted with another teasing giggle.

“Oh,” he whispered, replacing his hands against her very naked back and holding her close against his chest. Resting his forehead to hers, he sighed in relief.

Clark always felt better whenever he held Lois close. His bare arms against her bare back made him feel even closer to her. He wondered if it had something to do with his aura. Would it protect her from harm as it did with his uniform? Would his aura protect her from the curse?

It amazed him how far he had progressed since she had first revealed her backless dress to him at the charity ball earlier that evening. Then, again, from this position, even if he did open his eyes, the chances of actually being able to see anything without using his enhanced vision were diminished.

Lois caressed his cheek. “I know it’s important to you that you be married before you make love again…”

“Thank you for understanding,” he whispered.

“I get that, but…” she went on. “I’m not asking you to make love to me tonight.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not, Chuck,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “I mean, if you changed your mind and were to drop this vow, we’d be having a completely different conversation right now. However, since you aren’t planning on doing that… right?”

“Right.”

“Then, I need to know that you’re still working on someday being in a position where you can mentally accept everything that comes with meeting that goal,” she said.

“Huh?” It was difficult for him to concentrate with her so close and her essence floating around him.

“Someday, when I’m able to accept that you’ll never smash me into a million pieces…”

His spine stiffened as he drew back in horror.

“Figuratively and emotionally, not literally, Clark!” she clarified, cradling his cheeks in her palms and kissing him repeatedly until he relaxed. “I know that you’d never physically harm me.”

“That scares me,” he whispered.

“Which is why I know it will never happen. You would never let that happen.”

“Sometimes things are beyond our control,” he replied.

“When you get past your fears that I will smash your heart into a million pieces… someday, we’ll get past all that garbage. I need to know that you’ll be ready for that next step. I don’t want to start working through your fears then. That’s all,” she explained. “I need to know that you’re working through them now, so that you’ll be ready then.”

“And taking off my shirt and kissing you while you’re also shirtless will prove to you that someday we’ll make love?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Plus, I hear it feels pretty good.”

He laughed and opened his eyes to look at her, smiling at him. “I love you, Lois. No, if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

“I know you do, Clark,” she said. “Know that I love you, too.” She kissed him. “Now, strip!”

Clark rolled his eyes as he closed them, lifting his hands above his head.

Lois took hold of the hem and pulled off his t-shirt. “See, that wasn’t too ha...”

He grabbed her and laid her against his bed, covering her body with his and pressing a kiss to her lips.

***

Lois felt the bed dip under Clark’s weight as he lay down next to her. “Mmmmm,” she hummed, automatically reaching out to caress his chest to verify for herself that this wasn’t another dream. She smiled as her fingers touched his warm, bare skin.

“Sorry,” Clark whispered, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” she replied, snuggling up against him. “The shower did.”

“I got a bit sandy in North Carolina.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Awww. You changed.”

“It was chilly without you,” she said. Even slightly damp, Clark’s skin felt toasty to the touch.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” He brought his other arm around the top side of her to draw her fully against his chest before lowering his mouth to hers.

The kiss was short and chaste, but was quickly followed by another one. The second kiss lasted a much longer duration and was anything but chaste. His hand skimmed down the back of her t-shirt to the hem and meandered underneath, brushing her back with his fingertips.

Lois rolled onto her back, trapping his hand there. “Keep this up,” she panted. “And I’ll have to strip.”

Clark leaned slightly back, causing his pinned hand to slide forward to her belly. “We can’t have that!” he murmured. In the October moonlight, Lois could see that his eyes didn’t match his words. There was a wild, hungry expression to them.

Suddenly, Lois realized that the ball had bounced back in her court and she wasn’t ready to play. “How… how was the hurricane?”

“Wet,” he replied, brushing her belly button with his thumb. “Blustery.”

“Save anyone?” she asked.

“A few.” He shrugged and his fingers moved up past her navel.

Lois took a deep breath and held it. She could feel the heat of his thumb radiating throughout her body. Was she ready for this? She had thought she was; only now, she felt as if she was on defense. She much preferred offense.

“Are you trying to distract me, Ms. Lane?” he asked, lowering his mouth to hers.

“No, no.” She ducked away and kissed his shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t having anything burdening your chest.”

He shifted her hand and dropped it back down on his gloriously bare chest. “Nope, nothing there.”

“Well, yeah. I know, but I meant metaphorically. You know figuratively, emotionally.” As Lois spoke, her fingers danced across his broad chest, ending with her lips kissing him dead center between his pec muscles. His chest was like chocolate; one taste was never enough.

“I don’t want to talk about North Carolina, minha.”

“A-ha! So, something did happen,” she exclaimed.

Clark pulled back his arm from around her shoulders, so that he could prop his head up on it and look at her. His hand under her shirt sat squarely in the middle of her chest. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Would you, if I did?”

He drew his hand back down to her belly button.

Lois stopped his hand before it made it out of her shirt entirely. “Then the answer is ‘no’.”

Clark’s brow furrowed in confusion.

She kissed his chest again. “Don’t… stop.” When he still didn’t move, she whispered between kisses, “Continue… please.”

Instead, he rolled her fully onto his chest. Her knees went to either side of his waist. She sat up and stared down at him.

“Do you really want this?” he asked.

“Define ‘this’. Cuddling, snuggling, clandestine kisses, eventually ending with sleeping in each other’s arms, then yes. If you mean ‘sex’, then… um…no.”

He sat fully up, dropping her from his waist to his lap. Then, he caressed her hair, brushing it behind her ear. “I will never have sex with you, Lois.”

“What?!”

“Let me rephrase that,” he suggested, holding up his hands in a defensive position. “I could only ever make love to you.”

“Oh.” Oh!

“When you’re ready and when I’m ready,” he said. “And by ‘this’ I meant this!” He cupped Lois’s chest on the outside of her shirt with both of his hands. His eyes widened as they both stared at what he had just done. Instantly, he pulled his hands away. “Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… well, I did mean, but I shouldn’t have…”

Lois dove in and kissed his lips. “I’m okay with that,” she said between breaths. She reached down to tug off her shirt.

“No, wait!” Clark said, stilling her hands. “Not yet. Let me go first.”

He pulled her against his chest as he kissed her once more. His hand slid up from outside her shirtwaist, along the side of her ribcage, until it stopped just below her armpit. Lois still held down her shirt at the hem, causing the material to tighten along her body’s curves. Clark took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and moved his hand forward.

Both their bodies shivered in delight at this brief touch.

Lois watched as multitude of reactions passed over his face. Clark cleared his throat. “Maybe we should lie down for this.”

“As you wish,” she whispered, leaning towards him, brushing her chest against his, as she kissed him.

Another shudder passed through his body. “Yes, lying down would be better.” He leaned back so that he was lying down.

Lois followed him, kissing down his neck to his shoulder. She moved her body so that she lay directly on top of him. “Like this?”

“Minx! You’re going to be the death of me; you know that, don’t you?” he asked, rhetorically. He shifted onto his side so that she lay next to him instead of on top. Then, to punish her teasing, he flicked his thumb over the sensitive region of her chest.

She let out an involuntary moan as she arched her back, pushing it hard against his hand.

To get him back, she kissed down his chest. This time, sucking on a few of his more sensitive areas.

Clark took hold of her hand and waved a naughty finger at her. “This morning isn’t about me,” he whispered, running his free hand around her chest. “It’s about you and your pleasure.”

“Morning?” she asked glancing back at the still dark windows. The only light showing through them was that one beam from the moon. Even the flashing neon from the alley had been turned off for the night.

“It’s after three, so technically…”

“Just kiss me!” she demanded.

He happily obliged.

Lois’s head fell back. “I meant my lips,” she said, once she could speak again.

Clark’s face rose from her chest to grin at her. His eyes were still fully closed.

Thank goodness neither of them was working this morning.

***End of Part 217***

Part 218

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