PREVIOUSLY...
“Is that what had you so uncomfortable when you first started to tell me this story?”
“No, not exactly. After all, Rich wasn’t the only guy who approached me that day.”
“Oh? Who else was there?”
“Claude,” Lois said, looking through her eyelashes at her husband before focusing on the table in front of her. “I guess Claude was affected by the pheromone compound, too.” She grimaced. “Not that he ever needed to be affected by anything to want to have sex with me.”
Clark drew in a sharp breath. A previous lover. Obviously, unlike Richie, Lois felt some sort of animal magnetism with Claude.
AND NOW...
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter Ten
* * * * * * * * *
“Anyway,” Lois rushed to continue when she saw the steam begin to rise off her husband, “after my run in with Rich, I decided to get out of the newsroom. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to play hooky. I had just turned off my computer and risen to my feet when...”
**Two arms grabbed her from behind as their owner spun her into his arms. A moment later, she found herself being forced up onto her desk, Claude’s lips descending on hers even as his hands began taking liberties, running up her legs, pushing them apart so that he could insert his body between them. He began pressing himself against her as her skirt pushed further up on her legs.**
“Okay, look,” Clark said, interrupting her. “I really don’t need all these details. Why don’t we just...”
“Wait! It gets better,” Lois said before continuing with her story.
**Shock had stopped her from reacting when he’d grabbed her and kissed her. She’d been too stunned to react when he set her on the desk and moved between her legs. But as one of his hands slid up the inside of her leg, she came back to her senses. She didn’t want this.
A quick left hook proved that Lois Lane had learned a thing or two from hanging around the fighting clubs her father had worked at while she’d been growing up. As Claude stumbled back far enough to free Lois’ legs, he discovered that her legs were for more than feeling up. With a round house kick to a particularly sensitive part of Claude’s anatomy, the man was left rolling on the floor as Lois calmly grabbed her coat and walked out of the Daily Planet.**
“I love you,” Clark said, reaching over to pull his wife to him. She moved out of her chair to settle in his lap as she looked nervously at the door. “Don’t worry. Jimmy’s nowhere around. What I don’t understand is... Well, you were involved with Claude before. So there had to be some animal magnetism between you.”
“Itch. Scratched. After all, Lex wasn’t attracted to Miranda when under the pheromone compound, but rumor had it they had once been lovers.” She shrugged. “I guess he wasn’t what I wanted that particular day.”
“Okay. But I still don’t see why you were so embarrassed to tell me that.”
“Do you... well, do you remember anything about that day?”
Clark cocked his head to the side. “Why would I remember any...” His voice trailed off as memories began flooding through his mind. “I remember,” Clark whispered.
**Clark tossed his jacket over the back of the chair and shuffled towards the kitchen. It had been a long, frustrating day. Oh, he’d been busy enough. But it didn’t seem anything the least bit interesting was going on in the entire city.
Or maybe it was just this job. Working for The Star wasn’t exactly everything he’d thought working for a big city paper would be. Of course, The Star was not the Daily Planet. On the other hand, considering what had happened when he’d gone for his interview with Perry White, it was obvious he was not likely ever to work for the Daily Planet.
And regardless of how he might feel about Lois Lane, that was just another thing that wasn’t about to happen - not after his ill-advised impulse to kiss her. Even when they were at the same press conferences, she seemed to go out of her way to avoid looking at him. Not that she was unaware of him. He often heard her heart rate increase when she realized he was in a room. But he suspected that it was more a fear... or maybe an anger reaction than some sort of attraction.
Maybe it was time for him to pack his bags and move on.**
“Wait a minute,” Lois said. “You just remembered having an interview with Perry. Do you remember anything else?”
Clark thought about that for a moment before shaking his head.
“Okay, well, go on - see if it jogs any other memories.”
Clark nodded.
**He filled a cup with water and had just lowered his glasses to heat it when he heard a knock on the door. He wondered who it could be. After all, he hadn’t really worked to make friends at The Star. Oh, he was friendly enough. But for some reason, his heart wasn’t really in it. Besides, it was just too dangerous to let people get too close.
Setting down the coffee cup, he galloped up the steps to the door and opened it.
“Lane,” he said softly, blinking a couple of times to be sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
“Kent,” she responded, her voice soft, her eyes...
No. He must be mistaken about what he was seeing in her eyes. “Uhh... Do you want to come in?”
“Oh, yes,” Lane said, almost panting on the words, drawing his attention down to the cleavage which could been seen between the folds of her white blouse - which appeared to have been unbuttoned to provide him with that particular view.
No. No, not him. Obviously not him. Never him. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying the view. It was simply an accident that he was seeing so much skin. He jerked his eyes back up to her face as he stepped backwards into his apartment, tripping down the steps. A moment later, he was lying stunned on his back at the bottom of the stairs.
“My darling,” Lane gasped, rushing down the steps and dropping to her knees next to him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m... My darling?” he asked.
“Oh, I’ve been so stupid, my darling. I didn’t realize before how much I need you. Please forgive me.”
Before her words could even penetrate, she was planting kisses all over his face.
This was a dream. It had to be. A dream come true. Still, as her lips finally found his, it occurred to him that this was far too real to be a dream. Her tongue darted out, demanding entrance to his mouth. And almost instantly, the rush of blood away from his head made thinking about anything but the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she was currently running her hand over his chest, impossible.
His hand, of its own volition, found its way into her hair as he deepened the kiss and her resulting moan of satisfaction made thinking even more difficult.
But then... why was he even bothering to think? Why question a miracle? She was here. She was in his arms. She was kissing him as if she never planned to stop. What more did he need to know?
He slid his free arm around her, pulling her closer. She quickly complied. Her soft body molded itself to his and their legs entangled. He could feel every curve, every shift of her body. And his body responded in kind. Her scent was getting stronger now, filling the air around him with an intoxicating aroma.
He ran a hand up her side. She moaned encouragingly when it brushed against the side of her breast.
Suddenly, the fact that she was here didn’t seem nearly so miraculous. It almost seemed like fate. She must have been as tortured by that kiss as he had been. She obviously wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Just because he hadn’t realized it, didn’t mean anything - except that he didn’t understand women. In particular, one individual woman. But he knew that already. Certainly, it was no reason to stop what was quickly turning into the best day in his entire life.
He rolled over, pinning her beneath him on the floor so that he could attack her mouth with new purpose and give his hand more freedom. His hand hovered over her breast as a moment of doubt encompassed him. She pushed herself up into his hand.
Oh, god.
Yes.
He quickly undid a couple additional buttons on her blouse, and slipped his hand inside the material, returning it to its previous location. The resulting growl that rose in the back of her throat was almost his undoing. She wanted him.
As if to prove that fact, her hands ran down his chest, leaving a trail of open buttons in their wake. Her hands slipped inside his shirt, running slowly over the muscles of his chest and leaving him breathless when they ran across his stomach.**
“So you had no idea that I was under the influence of the pheromone compound?” Lois asked, bringing him out of his story.
Clark shook his head. “None whatsoever. I mean, I was surprised by what was happening. But I didn’t know you well enough to realize that anything was wrong. All I knew was that this was all of my wildest dreams come true.”
**This time, she rolled them over and her mouth left his to begin trailing kisses across his chest, interspersed with light nibbles that came close to driving Clark out of his mind. Had anything ever felt this good? Could anything ever feel any better? Not even flying came close to the bliss he was experiencing at this moment. He buried his hands in her hair, playing with it as her oral exploration of his chest continued.
It wasn’t until he felt her begin pulling at the buckle of his belt that doubt again crept into his mind.
This wasn’t right. It just... wasn’t. Not that he didn’t want it. Currently, his entire body was sending loud and clear messages, not only to him, but, he had no doubt, to the woman kissing him how much he wanted it. But... they were moving too fast. They should try talking. Try dating. He didn’t want a one night stand with her. And yet, if they kept going... Not that this would be a one night stand. It never could be for him. He was already half in love with her. He knew that. But... Did she feel the same way?
He couldn’t stand the thought of ruining his future with her by moving too fast.
Her hands had finally managed to undo the buckle on his belt and, an instant later, the button and zipper on his trousers were undone. Her hand was just about to slip inside when what was happening finally penetrated his brain.
“Wait,” he said, scrambling out from under her to sit back on the floor, just out of her reach.
She looked up at him, hurt and confusion in her eyes and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t stopped them. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to hurt her, to make her think that he was in any way not receptive to what she seemed to want. He just wanted more.
“What’s wrong, my darling?” she asked. “Don’t you want me?” Her voice on the final question sounded so lost, so forlorn, that he instantly needed to correct her impression.
Moving over to where she was, he pulled her up so that she was cradled in his lap. “I want you. You have no idea how badly I want you. I just... can we go slow?”
She looked up at him and a slow, sexy smile crawled across her face. “I like slow,” she said, reaching up to where his tie was still hanging around his neck. She pulled the tie to bring his face down to hers. “I like slow very much,” she said, before kissing him once again.
He groaned, getting lost for a moment more in her intoxicating kisses. But when she began pulling his tie apart, he moved back once again - this time not releasing her lest she get the wrong impression.
“Look,” he said, “why don’t we get up off this floor? Maybe find somewhere a little more comfortable and then... We can talk.”
She smiled at him, rising off his lap. He let out a breath of relief. In spite of how much he enjoyed holding her, it was definitely making it difficult for him to think.
He watched while she seemed to take in his apartment before looking back at him. “Where’s your bathroom?” she asked. “I would like to... freshen up a little.”
He pointed in the appropriate direction, watching as she glided towards it. Once she was gone, he rose to his feet, glad to have a moment to regain his composure. Once he had calmed slightly, he plopped down on the couch as he tried to work out what to say. All of this was so unexpected. So amazingly unexpected. He was glad to have a moment to let it settle in. They had so much to talk about. But where to start?
A date. Yes. When she came out, he would ask her for a date. Maybe he’d take her to Paris or Hong Kong or that amazing little place he’d discovered in the Philippines. He’d have to tell her everything, of course. It was a little scary. But if her actions were any indication, and she loved him the way that he loved her, she’d be able to accept it.
Yes. That was where he should start. He’d tell her everything and then... the world would be their playground. A different country for dinner every night. Frolicking in the waves off Australia. Moonlight flights across the pyramids of Egypt. Watching the northern lights play from the mountain tops of Yukon. Seeing the sun set across the Pacific Ocean and then watching it rise again a few hours later on the Atlantic. Swimming with the porpoises off the coast of Florida. Carousing in the clouds, high over head, as they drifted together above all the beautiful places the world had to offer.
And she would tell him everything about her. He wanted to know it all. What was her favorite color? Who were her friends growing up? Had she been happy as a child? Did she have a close relationship with her family? What were her hopes and dreams and fears? What made her happy or sad? Yes, he wanted to know everything.
And then... then it would be time for them to complete what they had started here tonight. And he would ask her to marry him. And she would accept. And they would have children and grandchildren. And together, they would grow old. Suddenly, he had visions of them together on the old porch swing at his parents’ home in Kansas, watching the sunset while their grandchildren played in the yard in front of them.
But... where was she? The door to the bathroom was just inside his bedroom, so he rose to his feet to check on her.
When he realized the bathroom door was open and the light turned off, he was confused.
“Hey, Lane? Where are you?” he asked.
“Over here.”
He turned slowly and then stood, open mouth, when he saw her, stretched out across his bed wearing... nothing more than one of his dress shirts. Only a couple of buttons had been done up, giving him an all too tempting glimpse of what lay beneath the white folds.
“You said you wanted to go somewhere more comfortable,” she purred before stretching.
All his blood again rushed south as he saw the material at her leg stretch dangerously high. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen in his life. Sunsets and northern lights and man-made wonders had nothing on Lois Lane.
“So... what are you doing standing all the way over there?” she asked. “Come to me, my darling.”
And suddenly all of his good intentions were lost as a wave of desire crashed across him and, as if in a daze, he found himself being pulled towards her by some unseen force - desperate for the glimpse of heaven she was offering.**
“Do you remember what happened then?” Clark asked.
Lois nodded. “Two of the most incredible days of love making I’d ever known. Followed by...”
“...sheer hell.”
“Wait a minute!” Lois suddenly said. “What am I thinking? That’s not what happened.”
Clark blinked a couple of times. She was right. That wasn’t what had happened. “Must just be fanciful thinking,” Clark said. “Either that or in this altered reality, we have both rewritten that particular episode so many times in our imagination that it’s hard to remember what actually happened. But, boy, was I ever tempted.”
Lois leaned over, giving him a quick kiss. She suspected his second explanation was probably right. At least, she could see this particular incident as fueling more than enough fantasies. She rose from his lap and took a seat on a chair next to him. “I remember what happened next.”
**It was really going to happen. Kent had seemed somewhat skittish out in the living room. But now there was nothing holding him back. Clothing had disappeared so fast she was tempted to think he was moving in a blur. And... what his lips were doing as they blazed a path down her body was sheer heaven. It felt as if every part of her was on fire. And it was all because of him.
Her love.
The man she was destined to meet.
After allowing him to continue for another moment, Lois reached down, pulling his head back up to hers while shifting beneath him to move him between her legs. She needed more. And she needed it now. She stared into his eyes for a long moment and then...
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Kent panted, pulling back as he tried to catch his breath.**
“What caused you to pull away?” Lois asked, looking over at him.
“It was something in your eyes. You looked... unfocused. Stoned. Of course, I was fairly confident you hadn’t been drinking - I would have smelled it on you - but... it suddenly occurred to me that something was... off.”
“What a time to realize that,” Lois said, almost as frustrated as she’d felt during that time - or would have felt if any of these memories were real. She gave her head a quick shake as she picked up the story again.
**“What’s wrong?” Lois asked, suddenly feeling very much bereft at the loss of her lover.
“It’s just... I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but... We can’t do this, Lane,” Kent said. “Not now. Not like this.”
“Why not?” Lois asked, grabbing the blanket to cover herself. She suddenly felt oddly exposed.
“You’re not... yourself. Are you on drugs or something?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m in love. Ever heard of that before, Kent? And I thought you felt the same way. If you don’t, just say so. Don’t make up stories about me being on drugs.”
Kent suddenly looked a little lost. “I love you, too. I love you so much.”
She smiled, pushing him back on the bed, her lips seeking out his even as she crawled on top of him, straddling him. He loved her. He really loved her.
“No!” he said, slipping out from under her. Keeping his hands on her shoulders to hold her away from him, he continued. “I just... Look, this just doesn’t feel right. Can’t we just slow this down a bit? Try dating? Please?”
Lois’ heart dropped. If he didn’t want her, he could have simply told her. She wasn’t an unreasonable person. She would have listened. But he’d acted as enthusiastic as she was, leading her to believe he felt about her the way she felt about him - only to make it clear that he didn’t at the last possible moment. Was this some kind of joke to him? She loved him so much, wanted him so desperately. He obviously didn’t feel the same - in spite of his words. But then, why should she think he was any different from other men? The word ‘love’ came easy to them. The emotions behind the word were an entirely different matter.
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she crawled off the bed, being sure to keep the blanket around her as she searched for her clothing. When she finally located them, she fumbled her way into the bathroom to get dressed.
“Lane?”
She heard his quiet, almost hurt voice calling to her from outside the door, but she ignored him. She was too humiliated, too heart-broken. He didn’t want her. He didn’t love her. And could he have picked a worse time to tell her?**
“What’s the next thing you remember?” Clark asked when she fell silent.
Lois let out a long slow breath before proceeding to answer his question.
**Lois woke up in bed with a pounding head-ache. She felt as if she’d been hit by a mac truck. Or... a hangover? But how...
The last thing she remembered clearly was being at the Daily Planet, working on a rewrite of the fruit fly infestation story. And then... Everything was fuzzy. She gave her head a shake to clear the cobwebs and immediately regretted it.
She hadn’t felt this bad since Lucy had insisted that she wanted a highball party for her twenty-first birthday. Had someone slipped something in her coffee?
Well, lying here in pain wasn’t doing her any good in sorting all of this out. Moving carefully, she crawled out of bed. The first order of the day was two aspirin and a hot shower to try to wash some of the grime out of her mind.
Stumbling towards the door to her bedroom, she spotted a newspaper, lying face down on her desk. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what had happened in the world while she’d been out of it, but a full bladder and a splitting headache won out. She stumbled into the bathroom for her aspirin and shower.
The news could wait until she felt human again. She was just about to walk through the bathroom door when she had a flash of naked skin pressed against naked skin.
What?
She attempted to focus on that thought, but it evaded her.
As she stepped into the bathroom, she had another flash. Getting dressed in an unfamiliar bathroom. She raised her hands to her face, covering it.
What had she done?
She attempted to push the thought from her mind. It couldn’t possibly be as bad as it seemed. After relieving her bladder, she disrobed, adjusted the water temperature, turning it up as hot as she could possibly stand, and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes, looking up into the water as it pounded down on her.
The shower and aspirin seemed to work and she felt somewhat more rejuvenated when she emerged from the bathroom sometime later. While still towel drying her hair, she stumbled into her bedroom. Seeing the newspaper lying there, she walked towards it.
She had just reached her desk when she had a sudden flash of another desk. Claude was pushing her up against it, kissing her while his hands slid up her legs.
Oh, god. What had happened? Had Claude drugged her and... what? Why couldn’t she remember? She knew he wasn’t happy that she hadn’t been willing to resume their affair when he’d returned from Paris. But he wouldn’t... would he?
Still, something had definitely happened. And the more she thought about it, the more it seemed Claude was responsible. If not, he’d certainly timed his move perfectly to take advantage of the situation. On the other hand, attacking her in the middle of the newsroom, with everyone around to witness it, seemed a little crude - even for Claude. So what...
“We can’t do this, Lane. Not now. Not like this.”
It wasn’t Claude’s voice ringing in her ears. But the voice was familiar.
“You’re not... yourself. Are you on drugs or something?”
What did it mean? What exactly had happened since yesterday afternoon? When no further memories came, she stepped forward, picking up the paper. Her eyes instantly widened.
The first thing she saw was the little hearts replacing ‘A’s in the Daily Planet. The second thing she noticed was the headline. ‘Couple Reunited! Love Wins Out!’
What the hell?
Knowing that headlines could be misleading, she moved back to the bed and took a seat while concentrating on the story in front of her. Her eyebrows rose as she read about a man and woman meeting on a train and falling in love, only to lose contact with each other when the trip was over. Then, thirty years later, they see each other while riding the same train and realize they’re still in love.
Right.
Okay.
Had Perry lost his mind?
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had been affected by... whatever had happened to her.
It was the only thing that made any sense.
She was about to put the paper down when something else caught her attention. She suddenly gasped. The date on the top of the paper. Where had yesterday gone? And why didn’t she have any memory of it?
Suddenly, she had memories of being curled up on her couch, wrapped in a blanket, digging ice cream out of a carton with a spoon while tears rolled down her cheeks. Had that really been what she’d done yesterday?
So what had happened to cause her so much distress?
“We can’t do this, Lane. Not now. Not like this.”
She concentrated on the voice again, trying to identify it, before letting out a breath of frustration. Well, something had happened. That much was obvious. And she wasn’t going to figure it out sitting there. There was only one thing to do. Return to the scene of the crime. The Daily Planet newsroom. And if Claude was behind it, she was going to give him the Bobbit treatment.
She tossed the paper on her bed and stepped towards her closet. She was just about to pull out a suit when she had another flash. She froze.
Kent falling backwards down the steps into his apartment. Rushing down, kissing his face, kissing his lips, kissing his chest, running her hands over his body, undoing his trousers.
Oh, no. She hadn’t. Anybody would be better than Kent.
She should have known! The guy was an absolute pig. Of course he would take advantage of her when...
“We can’t do this, Lane. Not now. Not like this.”
A blush suddenly infused her cheeks with heat. Wait a minute. How had she gotten to his apartment from the Daily Planet?
No. Suddenly, everything that had happened at Kent’s apartment came flooding back - from her arrival to his rejection. Every titillating, hot, steamy and most of all, embarrassing memory.
No.
Please no.
Surely she hadn’t really thrown herself at Clark Kent. But try as she might, she couldn’t deny the memories. Kent wasn’t the pursuer in this horror story. She was.
What had she done? And more importantly, what could have possibly possessed her to do such a thing?**
TO BE CONTINUED...
