Sorry - I'm still learning and trying to push the envelope, and I guess I went a bit too far for the PG Boards on this one! So if you want to read the
unaltered version (and you're of-age) please go over to the
Nfic board. Here's the link:
Starwood In Aspen 3/3 Nfic Below is a slightly adjusted version for PG readers.
OK, after a very long week, here is the final installment of
Starwood In Aspen.
I have to tell you that this proved to be quite a challenge. When I started this story, I knew where I wanted it to go. In fact, one particular part of this last section was my original inspiration - I had built the whole story around it. I had the majority of Part 3 written, but as I was editing it, Lois and Clark started to stick their heads in where they didn’t belong! They gave me quite a bit of trouble, so it took a lot longer to finish this than I expected. Also, this part ended up being quite a bit longer than I planned, so sorry for the length.
Anyway, thanks for your patience and returning to read this last part.
LM
Standard Disclaimer applies: All characters from “Lois and Clark” are the property of Warner Brothers and DC Comics. The song “Starwood In Aspen” (music and lyrics) written by John Denver. The story idea is mine, and no infringement on anyone’s copyrights is intended.
Starwood In Aspen
By Lynn McCreadie
PART 3
The front door shut firmly, and Lois paused in her pacing, looking up expectantly. Clark took the time to remove his snow-covered boots and placed them neatly on the boot mat, adding fuel to her irritation. Pushed way beyond her patience threshold, she waited only until he turned to see her standing there before she launched her attack. “Where the hell have you been all day!?”
Accustomed by now to Lois’s random accusations, Clark let her words roll off his back. “Uh…skiing. This is a ski resort. Seemed like the appropriate thing to do.” He shrugged out of his red ski jacket, the paper lift ticket swinging from the zipper testament to his claim.
Hanging the garment on the hook placed conveniently for such a purpose, he walked down the four steps to the living room, blowing on his reddened hands as if to warm them. Lois tapped her foot impatiently, and he readied himself for a tirade of undetermined origins. It had been one long day, but it wouldn’t be complete without a fight with Lois.
His calm, lazy pace infuriated her. All day she’d spent waiting, a pastime that she hated more than anything. Lois Lane had absolutely no tolerance for unfilled time. Lines and delays were unacceptable and to be avoided at all costs. And now he just waltzed in after a day of skiing, completely unaware that she’d just wasted an entire day of her life waiting for him to return.
“Well, I’m glad you were enjoying yourself. Didn’t you wonder why you never saw me on the slopes?” she accused heatedly. “You didn’t even come to check on me! I mean, I could have fallen off a cliff, and you wouldn’t even have known I was missing until my body was found frozen solid under two feet of snow. Would it have killed you to pick up a phone?’
Still unaffected by her outburst, he smiled wryly. “Geez, Lois. It’s a pretty big place. I just figured you were on a different run. Besides, it’s not like you were all alone.” Glancing about the room, his thick brows lowered in confusion. She
was alone. “Where’s Scardino?”
“Not coming. He’s not coming!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “He called this morning and told me that the bust blew up all over the place. Can you believe it! Not only are those jerk drug dealers peddling drugs to little kids but they’ve totally screwed up my weekend!”
Clark fought back the urge to laugh, knowing that such a response would only get him in more trouble. Leave it to Lois to make such a comparison. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared at her with an amused glint. “Yeah, can you believe it? How could they stoop so low?”
“Watch it, Kent. I’m in no mood,” she warned, her voice dropping dangerously.
Awakened by Dan’s phone call, her day had started badly and had dropped to downright ghastly. She had a pounding headache from the wine, and the aspirin she’d taken was starting to wear off. If Clark didn’t take care, he’d find himself the target of every evil thought she’d nursed as she fumed the hours away. Of course, since most of those thoughts revolved around him anyway, it was a pretty sure bet that he’d hear about them at some point.
“I’ve been waiting all day for you to get back so we could get out of this place, and now it’s already dark. I just hope it doesn’t start to snow again or we’ll be on the road for hours!” Lois stormed to a set of French doors that led out to a wooden deck, glancing up into the dark sky to check for ominous clouds. If it snowed and they had to creep home at five miles an hour, she just knew she’d go mad.
Clark took a deep breath, ready to deliver the death blow that would knock Lois completely over the edge. He started to speak, then paused to listen. Music was playing softly throughout the room, pumped through the sound system that he knew also played a pretty mean jazz. He concentrated, trying to decipher what it was he was hearing.
It's a long way from LA to Denver
It's a long time to hang in the sky
It's a long way home to Starwood in Aspen
A sweet Rocky Mountain paradise
Oh, my sweet Rocky Mountain paradise“John Denver?” he determined quizzically, placing the folksy strains and easily recognizable voice. “You’re listening to John Denver?”
“Yeah. So?” Lois replied as she leaned her forhead against the icy window pane and peered heavenward. She felt a bit better when she saw stars twinkling above in a cloudless sky. Didn’t look like it was going to snow.
“
You like John Denver?” he repeated, mystified. He would have thought her tastes ran more along the lines of a Carly Simon or that new singer, Alanis what’s-her-name. The angry one.
She turned back to Clark with a defensive shrug. “There’s not much of a selection in this place, you know. It was either this or some hair band I’ve never heard of. Besides,” she said, “he relaxes me.”
She moved to the table where she had been working on the start of her follow-up to the Senator Steinman exposé. Quickly gathering the few papers and notes she’d spread about, she felt buoyed by the knowledge that at least she’d be able to wake up in her own bed the next morning. She’d read the Sunday Planet and maybe get in a couple hours of work on the follow-up. Perhaps she could salvage something from this horrible weekend.
“Man, I can’t wait to get back to Metropolis. Those drug dealers don’t know what they’re up against now. I mean, it’s one thing to mess with the DEA but it’s far more dangerous to mess with me,” she threatened, her mind already buzzing with angles. Shuffling the papers into a semi-tidy pile, she glanced over her shoulder at Clark. “My stuff’s already packed, so you and Mayson better hurry up.”
When Clark remained standing in the center of the room, watching her gather her papers, Lois frowned. “What are you waiting for, Kent? An engraved invitation? Tell Mayson to get her stuff and let’s get out of here...” She glanced toward the entryway, searching for Mayson. She’d been so caught up in her tirade against Clark she hadn’t seen the blond follow him in. “Where’s Mayson?”
“What?” he asked, still trying to imagine what other kinds of music Lois might find relaxing.
“Mayson?” Lois repeated.
Blinking himself back into the discussion, Clark looked away from her, staring blankly in the general direction of the fireplace. “She’s not here.”
“I can see that, Clark. I’m a reporter, remember? So, where is she? She’s not still skiing?” Lois guessed, incredulous. “Oh, that’d be just like her. Trying to prove what a hard core skier she is, getting in one more fabulous run before the lifts close down.”
“Mayson left this morning,” he clarified, “before you woke up.”
“What?” She’d been so exhausted when she finally fell asleep that she doubted a bomb outside her window would have awakened her. Still, it was hard to believe that Mayson had packed and left without Lois even noticing.
“She went back to Metropolis.” Clark held his voice carefully neutral, devoid of emotion. He’d spent the entire day reliving what had occurred between him and Mayson, and he still wasn’t ready to share it with anyone, least of all Lois.
“Why? Wait, no, let me guess. Something about a case that she had to deal with. Not a drug bust?” she asked, momentarily distracted from her impatience to leave what she had now named the Cabin of Hell. Oh, this was too rich. Both she and Clark ditched on the same weekend because their significant others had to go back to work. Some kind of poetic justice in that, she had to admit.
“Yeah, she decided she’d better get back. It’s a long story.” Clark sighed loudly. This was going to get ugly. Really ugly. “But I’ll have a lot of time to tell you about it ‘cause we’re not going anywhere.”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily, sure that she wasn’t going to like his answer.
“Mayson took the Jeep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, bracing himself for the shriek he knew was coming.
“She what!?” Lois shouted.
“She took the Jeep.” Clark walked over to the fireplace and crouched down in front of it. He took the black poker and jabbed at the burning logs, sending sparks flying up the chimney. “I figured I could ride back with you and Dan tomorrow, so I let her take it back.”
Lois strangled on a laugh. “This has got to be a joke! You mean you and I are stranded here?”
He finished adjusting the logs to his satisfaction, brushing his hands together as he stood to look at her once again. “Looks that way,” he offered with a small smile.
“Oh, this is just great,” she fumed, pacing again. “First my boyfriend invites my partner and his girlfriend to join us for our romantic weekend away. Then he doesn’t even bother to show up. And not only does he ditch me, he leaves me stranded with…” she gestured at Clark with her hand, so flustered she couldn’t speak. “…you!”
“Don’t hold back, Lois,” Clark’s smile faded into an annoyed frown. “Let me know how you really feel.”
“How could you let her take my Cherokee? That car’s my baby, Clark. And you just let a stranger drive away in it…” The witch took her car! Wasn’t taking Clark enough? “What if she drove it into a ditch?”
Clark rolled his eyes. “Mayson’s not a stranger, Lois. I wouldn’t have let her take it if I didn’t trust her. Besides, you’ve been talking about trading it in, so I know your sentimental attachment is temporary at best,” he noted pointedly, ignoring the accusing stare that she’d fixed upon him. “The Jeep’ll be fine. She needed to get back, and it was the only practical way.”
He walked over to the table where Lois had abandoned her efforts to tidy her papers. He picked up the top sheet, skimming the notes she’d started about Senator Steinman. Looked like she had a good start on a follow-up, and he nodded absently as he read what she’d written. If Lois was done with her lecture about his irresponsibility, maybe they could get something worked up for the Monday edition.
She watched him reading, only slightly mollified by his obvious approval of her work so far. What did he know about how she felt about the Cherokee? So what if she’d already made arrangements at the dealership for a new 95 model? And now, because of him, they were stuck up in this god-forsaken place. “Why didn’t you go back with her, anyway?”
Clark glanced up from the page, taking in the defiant flash in her eyes. Even if he could have told her, something obstinate inside of him would not have allowed him to admit that he himself had driven the Jeep to Metropolis and delivered Mayson to her apartment before flying back to the resort. He’d only returned at all because he worried about her being alone in the cabin, but he’d planned on leaving as soon as Dan showed up. He’d been trying all day to come up with a plausible excuse as to why he wouldn’t be needing a ride back to the city, but so far the best he’d been able to manage involved a fellow skier named Jim who could give him a lift.
“I didn’t want to leave until Dan showed up. It’s a good thing, too. You’d really be stranded.” He waited for her expression of appreciation, and when it was not forthcoming, he put his hands on his hips, her page of notes clutched in his hand. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Good, because I’m not going to. This is all your fault anyway,” she muttered.
“My fault?” his eyes widened, brows shooting up in stunned surprise.
“Yes, your fault,” she insisted. “If you hadn’t gotten yourself invited up here in the first place, Dan would have waited to ride up with me. Then he would have cancelled before we left, and I’d be in Metropolis right now.”
“Oh, I see.” He threw the paper on the table. Her logic was baffling. “Now it’s all my fault that Dan ditched you. For his job, no less. Something you of all people would never understand.”
It was his turn to be accusing. “If you would have just let me handle the meeting with Bobby Big Mouth in the first place, you and Dan would have left on time, and he would have missed the bust all together. But once again, you couldn’t let it go. Lois Lane had to keep her finger on every little thing.”
“I’m a professional, Clark,” Lois explained heatedly. “I’m not going to walk away from a story just because I want to get a little…” she flushed, unable to finish her sentence. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Flushing. It was getting kind of ridiculous.
“A little what, Lois?” He couldn’t resist teasing her. She had turned such an attractive shade of pink, he almost forgot that she was accusing him of intentionally sabotaging her plans.
“None of your business!” She marched past him, returning to snatch up her notes. With an impatient jerk, she grabbed the crumpled page he’d been reading, adding it to the stack. He made her so mad! No one could send her blood boiling like Clark Kent. And the fact that he enjoyed her anger just made her more furious.
“Definitely not
my business, that’s for sure,” Clark muttered under his breath. Somehow with Lois, he could never win. He’d thought he’d been doing the right thing by sticking around to make sure Dan arrived, and now he just wished he’d stayed in Metropolis and phoned in his excuses. Leaving her up here would have served her right.
Giving herself a moment to cool her heated face, Lois geared up. She’d spent the day shining her armor and preparing her verbal bullets, all of them now targeted directly at Clark. Whirling back to face him, she launched her jabs with increased vigor. “Boy, didn’t this just turn out great for you. I’m the one who planned this whole romantic weekend and instead, you’re the one who got to get a little action.”
Unbidden, the image of Clark and Mayson melded into an impassioned embrace floated into her mind, and she stomped on it with increased fury. “Ha! I’ll bet you and Mayson just laughed out loud all night thinking about me sleeping all alone.”
Clark folded his arms across his chest and gave her a smug grin. “We didn’t do much laughing, Lois.”
“I don’t want to know what you did!” she shrieked, holding her hands up to her ears. “Spare me the details, please.” She stalked away from him, heading up the stairs to the kitchenette. She needed some wine, but since there was none of that left, she’d settle for tea.
“Why?” Clark followed right behind her. “Would it bother you to know what happened between us? To know that we spent the night doing things that you wish you could have been doing? Are you jealous?”
“Of course not!” Lois started opening the cabinets, searching for a coffee cup. “You’re crazy, Kent. Me, jealous? Of what? The fact that you and Mayson spent the night in a romantic cabin, kissing and...hugging and...kissing!? Really, you flatter yourself, Clark.”
Since there were only two cabinets in the small kitchenette, she’d opened and closed each one several times. Finally yanking a black ceramic mug from its place on the stand resting on the Formica counter, she whirled to face Clark. The closeness of the space put him only a few inches away, and his unexpected nearness was unnerving.
“Besides,” she continued, trying to ignore the heat radiating from his chest, “I
would have been doing what you were doing if Dan hadn’t gotten hung up. And believe me, I would have done it much better.”
To make her point, she jabbed her mug in the general direction of the cabin. “Who do you think planned this whole weekend? Me, that’s who! Just because it was supposed to be me and Dan and it ended up being you and Mayson, I’m not jealous. I could have been doing what you were doing. I was
going to do what you were doing. And when I get back to Metropolis, I’m going to do it. I’m going to march right over to Clark’s place and do it. I’m going to make up for lost time. No more waiting for the right moment or planning for romantic weekends away…”
“What did you say?” Clark’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” she asked, her rant interrupted.
“What did you just say?” he repeated. He knew what she had said, but he needed her to say it again. Just to be sure.
“I said no more waiting for the right moment or...”
He shook his head. “No, before that.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Between ‘not jealous’ and ‘no more waiting’.”
She sighed loudly, obviously humoring him. “I said that when I get back to Metropolis, I’m going over to Dan’s, and we’re going to make up for this weekend. We’re going to do everything you and…”
“No, you didn’t,” he interrupted. She hadn’t said Dan’s.
“Clark, what are you talking about?” Maybe all of this fresh mountain air had addled his brain because he was making absolutely no sense. Or worse, maybe it was lack of sleep.
“You said Clark’s.”
“I did not.”
“You said Clark’s,” he insisted. “You said when you got back to Metropolis you were going to march right over to
Clark’s place.”
“No, I did not,” she protested a little more loudly. Had she really said
Clark’s? No, he was crazy.
“Yes, you did,” he argued back.
Turning her attention to the drawers, she opened and slammed each one. “Clark, you’ve lost it. I know what I said.”
Clark grabbed her hand, stopping her before she could shut the same drawer for the fourth time. “So do I. You said Clark’s. My hearing’s pretty good, Lois.” He reached in and picked up a spoon, holding it out to her.
She snatched the spoon from his hand and waved it at him. “Believe me, I did not say Clark’s. The last thing I would have said was that I was going over to Clark’s. You just wish that I said that, so you’re imagining that I did. Really, Clark, I think it’s you who’s jealous.” She slammed both the mug and the spoon on the counter and shoved past him, back down the steps.
Once again, he was close on her heels. He’d known for a long time how stubborn she could be, but this time it actually got to him. “Oh, now I’m jealous. And why would I be jealous?”
“Because I’m dating Dan, and this was supposed to be our weekend. And you thought you had the perfect revenge by bringing Mayson up here to flaunt in my face. But now she’s gone so your plan is all falling apart.” Lois gestured widely to the empty room. She’d moved to stand in front of the fireplace, and her eyes landed on the sofa where Clark and Mayson had lain together. With a sneer of disgust, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from it.
“Lois, you have been sniffing something, haven’t you?” Clark guessed, incredulous. She was something else. He collapsed onto the sofa, completely at a loss as to how to deal with this irrational creature. “You really think that I masterminded some grand plan to get Dan Scardino to invite me up here skiing with you just so I could invite Mayson and rub it in your face that I’ve met someone great who actually wants to be with me?”
Lois nodded emphatically. “Sounds about right. You never miss a chance to shove her in my face. It’s sickening how you let her throw herself at you just to make me jealous.”
“I don’t let Mayson throw herself at me, and I certainly don’t shove her in your face,” he snorted.
“Oh, yeah? So why is she always showing up to take you out to lunch and meeting you at the Planet so you can have dinner after work?”
“We’re dating, Lois. Lunch isn’t out of the question, and a lot of dates include dinner,” he replied mildly.
“And Jimmy told me about the weekend you went to meet her parents. What was that all about?” She regretted the words almost as soon as they left her mouth. For crying out loud, she did almost sound…jealous.
“You need some hobbies, Lois,” Clark chuckled. “You’re far too absorbed in what goes on with me and Mayson.”
“I am not!” she denied heatedly. She grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and squeezed it mercilessly, venting some of her anger on the unfortunate object. She was losing too much ground in this argument for her comfort. “I just hate to see you make a fool out of yourself, that’s all.”
Her comment intrigued him, and Clark momentarily forgot his growing frustration. “Why is dating a wonderful woman making a fool out of myself?”
“Because obviously you are only dating her because I’m dating Dan,” she asserted breezily. It was so obvious, she couldn’t believe he thought he’d fooled anyone, least of all her. She sniffed out falsehoods for a living.
Clark laughed out loud. “Lois, does anything in the world not revolve around you?”
“You’re mad because I chose Dan over you,” she stated simply. It was a fact, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
He leapt to his feet, unable to stay seated during such an accusation. For weeks now he’d been festering, and she’d just lit a match to his already short fuse. “And why would I be mad about that? I mean, you and I went on what seemed to be one really great date. I thought we had a chance at something. The next thing I know, I’m staring at the wrong side of your door, and Dan Scardino’s taking you to dinner.”
“We weren’t dating exclusively, Clark,” she retorted, feeling a small tickle of guilt that she quickly turned into indignation.
“Oh, I see. And did you slam the door on his face, too? I would imagine not since he sent you flowers,” he speculated hotly. “I wasn’t quite sure what the proper etiquette was for our special situation.”
Clark had taken several steps toward her and she moved to close the distance. “And what about you, Mr. Indecisive? One minute, I’m hearing rumors all over the Planet about your…crush…on me, the very next you’re running off to lunch with Blondy.” Her voice had steadily increased in volume, and she was nearly shouting as they stood face to face.
“Lois, you slammed the door in my face! What was I supposed to think? That you wanted to get married? You made it pretty clear that you weren’t really interested in having any kind of relationship with me outside of friendship and the occasional shared by-line.” This wasn’t the way he’d imagined this conversation would go, but now that they had started, he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself. He felt like a boiler with the pressure valve opened for maximum release.
“I don’t know how you’d know that. You never stuck around long enough for me to explain what I wanted.” Oh, he had a lot of nerve! Blaming her for the fact that he didn’t have a clue.
“Are you telling me now that that’s what you want?” He shook his head, correcting himself. “Wanted?”
“What I wanted then is a lot different than what I want now.” They’d moved so close to each other she could see the fire flashing behind his glasses, his dark brown eyes wide with the anger that he’d unleashed on her for weeks now.
“Well I’ve always known what I wanted,” Clark shouted back, his frustration mounting to an unprecedented level.
“Yeah, well Dan knew what he wanted, too, and he took it,” she snapped, satisfied with the stunned expression that crossed his dark features.
Clark gaped, disbelieving. “Are you telling me that the only reason you’re with Scardino is because I didn’t bulldoze my way into your bed?”
“You know what they say, Clark,” she threw over her shoulder as she whirled away from him, heading for the steps and the front door. “You snooze, you lose.”
“Then I won’t be sleeping tonight!” Clark growled as he reached for her arm, halting her retreat.
Before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. He’d spun her around and hauled her up against him, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from pulling away. Although surprisingly soft, his lips were unrelenting as they slanted over hers, demanding a response from her that she was helpless to deny.
As the initial shock wore away, a tingling heat ignited in her belly, sending waves of electric current down her legs. She felt off balance, as if her whole sense of equilibrium had been upended. If his kiss had been unexpected, her reaction to it was inexplicable.
His intention had been to shock her, but as Lois responded to his kiss with a surprising heat, Clark’s exasperation swiftly disappeared to be replaced by an even stronger emotion. Desire. His free hand moved upward, and he entwined his fingers in her hair, holding her head still as his assault on her lips grew bolder. Never had he imagined that she’d taste this sweet. And never had he imagined that his own reaction to a simple kiss could be so strong.
Lois dropped the throw pillow and lifted her arms upward, her hands coming to rest on Clark’s chest. Through the soft cotton of his shirt, she could feel the heat and strength contained just beneath her fingertips. He did feel just as hard as he looked. And just as warm. As his thumb stroked small circles in the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, she felt her knees weaken, and she clutched handfuls of plaid flannel, trying to steady herself. Clark responded by tightening his grip around her waist, holding her upright. She felt a moan rising from deep in her chest, settling in the back of her throat where it became a pleading whimper.
Her fingers were driving him mad, stroking his chest in a way that he guessed was completely instinctive. Nothing intentional could have felt so good. He splayed his hand across the small of her back, pulling her tight against him and reveling in the feel of her length pressing along his. She fit him perfectly, like he had always suspected she would. He felt an overwhelming need to know every inch of her. To taste every millimeter of skin, to explore every curve and valley, to trace every freckle until he knew her body like he knew his own.
He broke away from her mouth, trailing small kisses along her cheek and down her jaw. She arched her head back, giving him access to the length of her neck. While the feel of his lips on her skin was quite distracting, the change allowed Lois to take a deep, ragged breath. What was happening to her? Her insides had turned to molten lava. One minute she was fighting with Clark, and the next all she wanted was for him to carry her to the bedroom. She didn’t even care which one. Although she’d rather it not be the one he shared with Mayson…
Mayson! Less than twenty four hours earlier, he’d stood in this exact same spot and kissed Mayson. And now Mayson was gone and Lois was standing in her place. The realization was like a bucket of ice water, turning her heated blood icy cold. She was nothing but a substitute!
Pressing her palms hard against his chest, she pushed him away. “How dare you!” she gasped, trying to catch her breath while the sensation of his touch lingered on her neck.
Clark felt her strong shove, heard the fury in her voice with a dawning confusion. How could she be angry about something that they both so obviously wanted? As his mind pulled itself out of the pool of desire, he saw the fire snapping in her dark brown eyes, the heat of anger replacing the heat of passion. He released her immediately, and she stepped backward with a jerk as she lost the stabilizing support of his arm around her waist.
“What’s the matter, Lois? I’m taking what I want,” he pointed out, not caring how insensitive it sounded. If he was being penalized for holding back, for keeping his true feelings so tightly under wraps, then it was a sentence he would not bear quietly. “Isn’t that the way to get through to you?”
“You jerk!” she fumed. She looked around, trying to find something to throw at him. “I know what you’re doing. Mayson ditched you, and you figured that since Dan isn’t here, maybe I’d be interested in taking her place. What a stud you are, Clark. Jumping from her bed and right into mine!”
Clark’s anger surfaced again, fueled by the lingering intensity of his desire. He took in her closed stance and the rigid line of her full lips that had been so fluid and malleable under his own. She’d gone from fire goddess to ice princess in less than ten seconds. It had to be a world record.
“And again, the intrepid Lois Lane figures out the real story.” He didn’t even try to hide his contempt. Instead of trusting him to treat her fairly, she suspected him of intentions so low that he wondered if she even knew him at all. “Not only did I plot to get myself invited up here to ruin your weekend, I figured I’d add a few notches to my bedpost while I was at it. See if I could pick up a couple of ski instructors on the side…”
“I wouldn’t put it past you,” she bit out. So what if what she was suggesting was completely out of character for Clark? How could he possibly explain kissing her when he’d just spent the night with Mayson? There was absolutely no excuse that she would buy.
Clark stared at Lois, dismay mixing with horror at what she believed he would do. He laughed, the sound cold and sharp. “Lois, I’ve said it before, and now I really mean it. You’ve gone totally off the deep end. You are crazy!”
“Yeah, crazy because I let you kiss me.” She was shaking with rage.
Oh God, she had let him kiss her. Not only let him, but actually encouraged it! And damn, it had felt really good. Too good. In her haste to put as much distance between them as possible, she turned quickly and stumbled into the arm of the sofa, wincing as the firm edge clipped her hard in the thigh. Rubbing the spot, she felt stinging tears burning the back of her eyes, and she fought them back with every ounce of self discipline she possessed.
“Seems to me that you enjoyed it just a little bit,” he taunted. She hadn’t been indifferent to his attentions. In his arms she’d become a liquid, pliable woman who felt the heat between them as surely as he did. But instead of grasping that fact with open arms, embracing it and using its power to strengthen the bond between them, she was rejecting it flat out.
“Not as much as Mayson, I’m sure!” she nearly spat. “I can’t believe that you’d make a pass at me after sleeping with her last night.”
A new feeling clawed at the fury consuming her. It was hurt, raw and stinging. Hurt that he could kiss her that way, like he really cared for her, when he had just slept with Mayson. Lois much preferred the anger. She grasped at, a lifeline keeping her from drowning in the pain churning in a deep pool just below the surface.
“How do you know that I slept with Mayson? What, did you put a glass to our door?” He and Mayson had been incredibly quiet during the night, so unless Lois had intentionally spied on them, he couldn’t imagine how she would know anything. The thought that she would go to such lengths was both pleasing and disturbing.
“Oh, don’t be coy, Clark. I saw you. I saw you kissing her last night.” When he still looked puzzled, she let out an exasperated sigh. She’d be damned if she’d let him think she cared enough to spy on him. “I had to go to the bathroom, and when I was coming back to my room, I saw you two going at each other. My God, you were practically tearing each other’s clothes off. It almost seared my eyes out.”
Clark skimmed the events of the night, remembering the moments he and Mayson had spent in front of the fire. He’d thought he’d heard a shuffling but had pushed it aside, needing all his concentration for the task at hand. With a sinking feeling, he realized when she must have been making her way across the room. “You saw that?”
“Yes, and then you practically chased after her into the bedroom.” OK, so she exaggerated a little. He hadn’t actually ran into the bedroom. But what did that matter now. The deed was done.
“And of course you assumed we were making love,” he stated, matter-of-factly, the pieces of the puzzle falling neatly into place.
“No, Clark. I figured you were probably working on her taxes together!” Her anger flared. It was bad enough that he thought she would welcome his attentions even after he’d slept with Mayson, but it was far more insulting that he was trying to make her look like a clueless idiot who had no idea what had occurred in that bedroom. “How stupid do you think I am?”
Like water flowing out of a drain, his anger emptied. Lois had every right to accuse him of foul play. He’d be upset, too if he thought she was playing him for a fool, not even trying to conceal the fact that she was doing so. If the situation was reversed, he’d be more than angry. He’d be furious.
But he wasn’t quite ready to concede the victory to her. There was something he needed to know first. “Did it bother you?” he asked, watching her face carefully.
“Did what bother me?” She wanted to scream.
“Seeing me with Mayson. Knowing what we were going to do when we went into the bedroom...”
“Of course it bothered me!” she hollered. “I don’t want to watch you making out with your girlfriend.”
“I see. It was the making out part that was a problem. Not the fact that I was kissing another woman,” he clarified. He didn’t really believe that Lois was a prude, but in this case, he had to be sure.
“Clark, I don’t care who you kiss.” She held back the tears, knowing they would give her away. It
did matter who he kissed. Well, it didn’t matter
who he kissed, it only mattered when who he was kissing wasn’t her.
Clark noticed a new shininess in her dark brown eyes. Any last drop of frustration fled, and he was overwhelmed with a need to comfort her. “You seemed pretty upset just a minute ago. Maybe you care more than you think,” he remarked gently.
Still in attack and defend mode, she refused to give him an inch by admitting anything. “I care when you sleep with one woman then try to sleep with me. You may be cute and have a really...great body, but you’re not man enough to handle two women at the same time. Especially if one of them is me. You chose Mayson. You can’t have us both.”
He let the remark about his manhood or lack thereof go by, focusing instead on what she’d said after. She’d said he’d chosen Mayson.
He’d chosen. “I didn’t know that I had a choice. Seems to me like you pretty much decided for both of us when you started dating Scardino almost immediately after slamming the door in my face.”
“I didn’t start dating him immediately,” she refuted, ignoring his reminder about slamming the door. That little detail didn’t help her argument, so really, it was irrelevant. “I tried to talk to you, but every time, just as I was getting somewhere, you ran off like your hair was on fire.”
Clark squelched the bubble of guilt that surfaced with her accusation. She was right, but given the current status of their argument, he couldn’t afford to award her any extra points. He’d have to deal with that truth later. Much later, when he was ready to deal with a lot of other, even bigger truths.
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her, challenging her. “Well, I’m here now.”
Lois shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Things have changed.” Like, he’d kissed her. And it felt really good. And he’d slept with Mayson. And that fact hurt way too much.
“Yeah, you’re with Scardino,” he muttered bitterly. And Lois had seen him kissing Mayson.
“Besides, it wasn’t a slam,” she blurted.
“Huh?” In typical Lois-fashion, she’d thrown him completely off the track.
“It wasn’t a slam,” she repeated. “I didn’t slam the door on you.”
Clark rolled his eyes. “Lo-is…”
“It was more of a…firm…closing.”
“Lois, it was a slam,” he insisted firmly.
She ignored him, trying to control the confusion that was quickly overpowering the anger. “That was what I was trying to tell you all of those times when you ran off to check on your neighbor’s dog or get the latest copy of the Bowler’s Gazette.”
Clark held his breath, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel he’d been in for over two months. “You were trying to tell me that you didn’t slam the door, you just closed it. Firmly,” he echoed carefully.
“Yes. Exactly,” she confirmed. How was she ever going to explain it to him if she didn’t quite understand it herself? Or maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t understand it. Maybe it was that she was afraid of it. But admitting she was afraid was even more scary because it meant that there was something to be afraid of.
“I’m sorry, Lois. I’ve always thought of myself as a fairly perceptive guy. But I’m just not getting it here.” Feeling a bit like he was swimming through jello, Clark decided to start from the beginning. “I thought we had a really great time when we went out. I really felt something that night. And it seemed like you felt it, too.”
“I did feel it. That’s why I slammed the door in your face.” She’d felt it that night, all right. The feeling of completely losing control. Of falling head first over a cliff, hurtling toward the unknown. And that same feeling had resurfaced when he’d kissed her, only it had mated and multiplied a thousand fold.
“Thought it wasn’t a slam,” he reminded her gently, unable to resist the urge to tease. “I’m glad we didn’t have a lousy time. Who knows what you would have done then.”
Lois sighed loudly. “Clark, I really don’t like this new sarcastic side you’re showing me. That’s my area of expertise, if you’ll remember.”
“Lois, I’m just trying to understand,” he began again, determined not to provoke her more than necessary. “For months we tried to ignore this…whatever…between us. When we finally gave in to it, I thought that it might turn out to be something pretty great. The next thing I know, I’m eating wood and you’re dating Scardino.”
“I only slammed that door in your face because I was scared. You scared the hell out of me, Clark. You were so nice and fun to be with, and you looked so…good in that damn charcoal suit,” she muttered. He
had looked good. And smelled good. And was witty and charming. And tall. And perfect. Way too perfect.
“You say that like that’s a bad thing.” He really wanted to understand. Really, he did.
“It is a bad thing,” she nearly wailed. “After just one date, I was all misty eyed and ready to do something really stupid like…name a teddy bear after you or doodle ‘Lois Kent’ all over my notepads.”
“A bit sophomoric,” he agreed, “but still, I don’t see what the problem is...” Did she say ‘Lois Kent’? The very sound of those two names paired together made his heart hammer suddenly.
“Clark, that’s not who I am. I’m not some simpering love-struck female who swoons when her man walks into the room.”
Clark held back the laugh that threatened to erupt over the image of Lois swooning on the floor of the Daily Planet and Perry calling for smelling salts. “I don’t think anyone would expect you to swoon. Ever.”
“Don’t you see?” she implored. “If I let myself...” She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. “I can’t afford to lose control, Clark.” So she’d run shrieking in fear directly into the safety of a relationship where she could maintain control.
He smiled inwardly. Lois...his Lois...was afraid of losing control. Fearless, foolishly reckless, and brave beyond good common sense. Still, she was human, and she was afraid. Afraid of loving him. And if she was afraid of loving him, she must believe that it was a very real possibility. Clark felt a sudden shift in the air, as if the clouds were making way for the sun and shafts of light were breaking through.
“What about Dan?” he asked, taking a tentative step into territory laden with land mines. If he was wrong, this could blow up in his face, an explosion the likes that even Superman would not survive.
“I don’t know. With Dan, I don’t feel like I’m careening out of control all of the time,” she admitted softly, almost talking to herself as she tried to explain. With Dan, she felt safe. Or at least, her heart felt safe, like it was insulated. “With him, I feel...steady.”
“Sounds boring,” he remarked, keeping his tone neutral.
A flare of defensive anger swelled in her chest. Why should she have to explain why she was with Dan, especially to Clark? “Well it’s not. It’s a good foundation for a solid, lasting relationship.”
Sensing her building anger, he changed tactics. They’d come too far to start all over again. If he’d learned nothing else in the last year, it was the fact that Lois Lane didn’t always respond to the gentle approach. Sometimes she needed to be hit over the head with a sledge hammer. “Let me ask you this. If being with Dan is so wonderful, why haven’t you slept with him?”
Lois blinked, startled by the blunt question. “How do you know I haven’t slept with him?”
“I thought that’s what this weekend was all about. This was supposed to be your big weekend,” he reminded her, bringing up their heated conversation at the Planet only the day before. “I mean, I don’t imagine Dan was planning on doing a whole lot of night skiing, so I assume that...”
“You don’t need to spell it out.” Lois flushed, a bit outraged that he would bring up that sore subject. “If you must know, no, Dan and I...haven’t...slept together. This
was supposed to be the big weekend until everyone and their mother stepped in to totally ruin it.”
“Maybe not,” he observed. “Why haven’t you slept with him?”
Feeling obstinate and more than a little irritated that he was grilling her about such a personal topic, she chose to misunderstand the question. “I haven’t slept with him because he’s not here, if you’ll remember.”
Clark wouldn’t let her off the hook. “That’s a load, Lois, and you know it. You can’t tell me that in eight weeks you haven’t had a least a dozen chances to sleep with Dan. What have you been waiting for?”
“I’ve been busy,” she retorted flippantly, trying one of the excuses she’d used on Dan. After all, it was the same question he’d been asking for at least six of the last eight weeks and the one she’d been asking herself for at least the last four. “And so has he,” she added lamely when Clark gave her a knowing look.
He rolled his eyes. If these were the excuses she’d been giving Dan, he almost felt sorry for the guy. “Let me tell you, no one is
that busy.”
“Clark, I really don’t know what your point is.” She sidestepped the question. The fact that she hadn’t slept with Dan meant absolutely nothing. Heck, a lot of people dated for years and didn’t sleep together. For all Clark knew, maybe she and Dan were waiting for their wedding night. She choked back a laugh, coughing as she imagined the look on Dan’s face should she try that excuse on him.
Clark frowned when Lois started to cough and choke, concern replacing all other thoughts. He wondered if he should get her a glass of water, but when he started to go to her, his arm poised to pound on her back, she lifted a hand and shook her head.
Assured that she was all right, he explained his justification in such a personal line of questioning. “You’ve accused me on several occasions of messing up your plans to be with Dan this weekend. In fact, I think you hold me personally responsible for this whole fiasco. But it doesn’t seem like you’re very angry at Dan for his part in all of this. After all, he’s the one who invited me up in the first place and then got called away for work.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m mad at Dan,” she assured him. “You’re just the lucky one that I get to yell at.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “So you aren’t really mad at me, then?”
“Well, let’s see,” she started, wondering where she should begin the list of complaints against him. Oh yes. Number one. “There’s the fact that you just kissed me less than a whole day after sleeping with Mayson. That might be one little insignificant reason.”
He shook his head, crossing his arms. “I don’t think that’s it.”
Lois laughed. As if she needed any other reason to be furious with him. “And just why do
you think I’m mad at you?”
“I think you’re mad at me because you don’t really want to be with Dan. And instead of blaming yourself, you’re blaming me.” He stepped around the couch, moving cautiously toward her as he made his observation.
“Geez, Clark, with logic like that, it’s amazing you haven’t won that Pulitzer yet.” She’d always suspected it but now she was sure. Clark was crazy. Certifiable. Why would he think she didn’t want to be with Dan?
He ignored her jab, focusing instead on her nervous smile that he knew hid something. “And I don’t think you’re mad at me because I kissed you after sleeping Mayson. I think you’re mad because I kissed Mayson in the first place.”
“Yeah, Clark. You’ve got it all figured out now,” she snorted with false bravado. He was a little closer on that last guess. Uncomfortably close.
“Why haven’t you slept with Dan, Lois,” he asked again, locking his eyes on hers. The effort was actually quite difficult since he’d just noticed the way her long cream sweater clung to her body, emphasizing her curves as it molded to them like gentle hug. It was some sort of after-ski thing, he guessed, because the soft fabric ended mid thigh like a dress, and she didn’t seem to be wearing any real pants. Just some cream tights that emphasized the dizzying length of her legs and the firmness of her calves and thighs.
“Haven’t we already covered this?” Lois asked innocently, trying to head him off before he latched onto the uncomfortable topic once again. That eerie feeling that Clark could read her thoughts sent a shiver down her arms, but his dark brown eyes were like magnets, and she felt unable to look away.
“You never answered the question,” he reminded her, taking a step closer.
“I still don’t see why it’s any of your business…” she stammered, feeling like a rabbit about to be pounced upon. She remained rooted in place, completely unable to move away.
“Why haven’t you slept with him?” he persisted, taking another step.
“Because,” she tried, growing a bit desperate. If he kept asking, she would be forced to answer. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”
He shook his head, not accepting it. “Because why?” The distance between them was down to a few short steps. He could see that her hands shook slightly
“Because I don’t…” she faltered. He was way too close, and she was having trouble concentrating.
“Don’t what?”
“Because I don’t…I’m not...” Suddenly, Lois felt exposed, like she’d been pinned to a board and was about to be dissected. He was asking her to answer a question that she hadn’t been able to answer herself.
She’d given up on trying to understand why she hadn’t slept with Dan, deciding that she would just do it. This weekend. Whether she really wanted to or not. But Clark had shown up and Dan hadn’t. And Clark had kissed her. And now she was so confused.
Clark watched the emotions play across her face, the confusion and vulnerability in her eyes tearing at him. He wanted to help her, to ease the pain that she was feeling. But if he had any hope of a future for them, she had to figure out for herself what she felt. If he was the one to suggest it, she would only deny him as a matter of course, becoming more entrenched in the lies she’d been telling herself, just as he had.
“I didn’t sleep with Mayson.”
“Clark, I don’t think it’s fair that you’re putting me on the spot like this. After all, if Dan understands then I don’t know why you think you deserve...” She stopped, frozen in mid sentence. “What?” she whispered.
“I didn’t sleep with Mayson last night,” he repeated softly, handing the trophy to her at last. “It’s why she left this morning.”
She’d seen them together. Kissing. Really kissing. “But you were kissing...and your shirt...I saw you go into the bedroom with her.”
“All we did was talk,” he confessed. They’d talked, all right.
Lois gaped at him, stunned by his admission. “Oh.”
“Wow. Lois Lane speechless. Give me a moment to savor this historic event,” he teased, enjoying the astonished look on her face. It was rare that he could shock her, so he had to enjoy it when he did.
“Clark,” she admonished softly, trying to come to terms with this bomb he’d dropped on her.
“I’m sorry,” Clark apologized, instantly contrite. “Last night, I realized that I couldn’t sleep with Mayson. No matter what argument I gave to myself, I couldn’t get around the fact that I just didn’t want to do it. She was a little less than understanding about my decision, if you can believe that. So she decided she’d better leave, and I agreed with her.”
“I don’t understand, Clark. I thought you and Mayson had a thing going. I mean, you seemed so…attached on the drive up. And I saw you kissing her...” The image of Clark and Mayson kissing in front of the fire floated into her mind, and she winced inwardly. They’d surely seemed attracted to each other then. Too attracted.
Clark shrugged slightly. “Yeah, well, it’s amazing how much you can fool everyone, even yourself, when you’re motivated.”
There was a whole heck of a lot of truth in that statement, she was quickly coming to see. A warmth had started in her stomach, and now it was blossoming to wrap her heart in a strange elation. He hadn’t slept with Mayson! She felt the urge to smile really big, but she squelched it.
Still, why had he even invited Mayson along if he had no intention of sleeping with her? “And this weekend. When you asked her to come up with you, didn’t you think that she’d expect that you’d…well, you know.”
“I thought that I’d be able to do it.” He decided not to go into how hard he’d actually tried. Some things she didn’t need to know. “Then Dan didn’t come and things changed.”
Suddenly, the joy that had been growing inside her at his confession started to wane. “You mean that if Dan hadn’t stayed in Metropolis, you would have slept with her?” Was he trying to tell her that this had been some bizarre game of chicken? Which of them would sleep with someone else first? And if so, had she won or lost?
“No,” he stated flatly, determined to ward away the anger he saw flickering across her eyes before it could be fanned into a full blown fury. “Even if Dan had come, I wouldn’t have slept with her. I don’t have those feelings for Mayson. I realized that they aren’t something you can manufacture, no matter how hard you try. And really, the truth is you shouldn’t have to try so hard. You shouldn’t have to convince yourself that you want to be with someone. If there’s any doubt in your mind, then it just isn’t right.”
Clark took another step, coming to stand within arms length of her. He could smell the perfume of her hair, and he wanted to reach for her again, but he kept his arms locked at his side. “Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair to Mayson. I couldn’t sleep with her knowing that the whole time, I would have been wishing I was with someone else. I don’t love her.”
“I see,” she whispered, feeling immediately better. In fact, a whole lot better.
“Why didn’t you sleep with Dan, Lois?” Clark asked, his voice becoming husky with emotion. He’d told her his truth, and now he needed her to tell him her own truth. He wouldn’t relent now. Not when he was so close.
“I don’t know,” she stammered, suddenly feeling afraid. He’d just removed the main reason for her anger. Without it, she had nothing to hang on to. She could feel herself falling again. Losing control.
“Tell me, Lois.” It was almost a command, issued low and silky. She shivered, a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“Stop badgering me,” she whispered, almost pleaded. She needed time to think. To dredge through the confusion that swirled in her brain. She needed to get away from him and the heat that was spreading throughout her body. “Are you really sure you’re not hungry? I think I saw some cookies in there, but I don't know how long they've been here.”
She turned and took a step toward the kitchenette. Clark placed his hands on her upper arms, holding her still. She stiffened slightly, bracing herself against the wave of sensation that sent a shiver down her spine, the heat from his hands passing through her angora sweater to scald her.
“Say it, Lois.” His breath was warm against her ear, and she could feel the solidness of his chest at her back. She closed her eyes, letting herself lean back slightly to graze against him.
Clark turned her around slowly, tipping her chin upward with one long finger so that she was forced to look into his eyes. She gasped when she saw the naked heat they held, so dark and bottomless that she knew she could become lost in them forever. But for some reason, she couldn’t remember why that was a bad thing...
“I didn’t sleep with Dan because…” She lost her train of thought, focusing instead on his full lips that had moved over hers with such gentle fierceness only a few minutes ago. She wondered what she would have to say to get him to kiss her again.
“Because why?” he murmured, already satisfied with her answer. She might not know why, but he was pretty sure that he did.
“Because…” Lois faltered as he moved in closer, so near that she could count each one of his thick eyelashes. What was it he wanted to know?
“Because of this?” Clark leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss that made her toes curl.
His hands had remained on her arms, but it was as if he had touched every inch of her skin. Every nerve ending felt as fragile as glass, and a deep ache took up residence in the very center of her being. His earlier kiss had been demanding, full of anger and desire. This kiss contained a tenderness that reached in and wrapped around her heart.
When he pulled away, she felt herself sway slightly. “Yes,” she whispered, breathless, her eyes still closed.
It was the answer he was waiting for. He grasped the sides of her face, framing it gently with his large hands. Driven by the powerful need that had been building for over a year, he lavished kiss after kiss upon her welcoming lips. It was if he’d been starving and a twelve course banquet had been laid in front of him. He feasted on the taste of her. The smell of her skin, warm with the lingering scent of vanilla body lotion. The richness of her hair, like silk flowing through his fingers. He wanted to devour her.
Lois didn’t fight it. She didn’t try to reason with herself why she should or shouldn’t be kissing this man. She only knew that it felt right. So right. As his arms wrapped around her and drew her into him, she felt as if she were falling. But she was falling into a warmth and softness that enveloped her completely, forming a cocoon of exquisite sensations that overwhelmed her. The ache that had flickered in her belly flared brightly, heating her blood and moving to settle in a throbbing pulse between her thighs. She returned his hungry kisses, reaching her hands up to grab fistfuls of his thick hair as she pulled him in deeper.
He marveled in how easily it all came to him. He didn’t have to think about what he felt or if what he was doing was right. Every cell in his body felt alive and tuned in to Lois. Like a song he’d known since childhood, each note could be predicted before it followed the one proceeding it. His confidence was absolute, and with her responses, he became bolder, his hands moving down her back to press against its gentle curve, pulling her tightly to him, wanting her to know how much she affected him. They clung to each other, their lips slanting together with an intensity that bordered on frenzy.
Lois arched against him, molding herself to his hardness. Her hands left the soft net of his hair to run down his shoulders, trailing onto the flexed muscles of his arms that were holding her so gently, before returning to wrap tightly around his neck. With his free hand, he skimmed a path from her hip upward, brushing against the side of her breast where it hesitated for a brief moment before coming to cup against her cheek. She sighed, the fleeting contact enough in her heightened state to weaken her knees and send a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She felt herself buckling, sliding downward.
When she sagged against him, he pulled her closer, and the contact allowed her soft breasts to press against him. Her curves molded to him perfectly, like waves contouring themselves to the shore. Where he was hard, she contrasted with soft. Everything about her felt so good. And so right. Unlike the previous night, he didn’t have to convince himself of anything. Every nerve in his body knew what it felt and wanted more. So much more.
Her lips parted slightly as she sighed, and not pausing to think, he slid his tongue into her mouth. As he swept the warm cavern, she met him eagerly, her tongue seeking his to caress it and tease him to a new level of need. The low moan that came from somewhere deep inside her fueled the fire which had settled between his legs, making his arousal almost painful.
He left her mouth to trail kisses across her closed eyes, down her temple on a direct course for her neck. His whispered “Ohhhh, Lois,” was warm and moist in her ear, his voice thick and course. Her heart surged, the intimacy with which he spoke her name causing her to shake slightly.
Suddenly, it became intolerable to have anything between her fingers and his skin. Lois sought out the buttons on his shirt, pulling at them desperately as she reveled in the feel of his tongue swirling over the delicate skin around her ear. She laughed softly over the memory of feeling cheated the night before, when she’d believed that Mayson had rights to the firm chest that was now being revealed to her. It wasn’t Lois who’d been cheated, but poor, poor Mayson.
Clark heard her small laugh and returned to her mouth, capturing the sound with a searing kiss. He didn’t know what amused her, only that the sound of Lois enjoying herself made his pulse race. Her hands pushed aside the open edges of his shirt, and he shifted his shoulders back and forth, assisting her with its removal. When her fingers glided over the planes of his chest with a whisper softness, he felt his muscles twitching reflexively. It was an exquisite torture, one that he’d gladly endure for eternity.
Lois splayed her palms against him, applying gentle pressure to break their contact. He pulled back slightly, a sudden panic pushing aside his building desire. Had she changed her mind? Did something about him displease her? Was he doing something wrong? His confidence of moments earlier ebbed, and he searched her eyes anxiously. She gave him a languorous smile, and her eyes were so dark with passion that they seemed almost black as they traveled the length from his face, down his chest to the silky line of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. He relaxed, understanding her need.
She just had to look at him. Had to see the ripples that she felt beneath her fingers as her hands skimmed the smooth hardness that contained such a finely controlled strength. Lois’s breath lodged in her throat when Clark pulled away from her. Never had she seen such a beautiful man. The fire colored his skin a golden bronze, and like a Greek statue, every muscle was chiseled into a rock hard contour. He fairly glowed with a light sheen of sweat from the heat they’d created together, and she wanted to run her tongue down the center of his chest, tasting the salty essence of him.
His thick hair was tousled from her attentions, giving him a slightly dangerous look so unlike the buttoned-up reporter who appeared neatly combed to sit at his desk at the Planet. Bare-chested and wild, his faded jeans riding low on his narrow hips, he reminded her of some untamed cowboy torn from the pages of a period western or romance novel. Only his glasses kept her from losing herself completely in the imagery.
She drank him in, wondering if she would ever grow tired of looking at him. She definitely knew that she’d never be able to sit across the table from him in a meeting without needing to cross her legs.
Clark allowed her to look at him, but when her fingers started to trace the ridges of his abdomen, sliding down to dip into his navel and skim the waistband of his jeans, he could bear it no more. It was almost a growl that escaped him as he recaptured her lips with a new fierceness. As his naked chest brushed against her, the soft angora of her sweater tickled his skin while her fingers raked down his back. He hadn’t known it was possible to feel such an ache, such a need to meld with another person until it was impossible to know where she started and he ended. His entire life he’d worked to control his body, and now, under the touch of this woman, he was completely unable to stop what was happening to him.
He realized with a start how truly wrong he’d been the night before. He hadn’t waited all his life to reach this moment. He’d waited all of his life to meet this woman. Without her, the moment could never occur. Eventually, his virginity would have been forfeit, and most likely to someone he cared for deeply. But no one he had met or ever would meet in some undefined life time could have the power to awaken such deep emotions. Such an overwhelming desire to possess not only her body, but her heart and her soul as well, along with an unquenchable need to be completely possessed in return.
His hand slid downward along her hip, following the soft curve onto her thigh. Reaching the edge of her cream sweater, his fingers worried under the downy fabric. As he skimmed upward on a return journey, the sweater, now hooked on his wrist, came upward as well. The soft angora was as light as a feather, brushing up his forearm with the warmth it retained from its direct contact with her body.
When his fingers brushed her bare skin, it was unclear which of them gasped the loudest. She was so smooth and warm, the near concave plane of her stomach making way for the delicate ridges of her ribs. He’d always admired her trim figure, but as his hand spanned her rib cage, he realized how petite she was. Her smallness made him feel powerful, a surge of masculine protectiveness for this delicate creature who sighed under his touch.
Lois felt her stomach contract, his fingers trailing a scorching path across her belly and up to her ribs. White hot sparks flared through her chest, like a Fourth of July sparkler gone out of control. She arched against his hand, trying to retain contact.
Clark employed his other hand, sliding it underneath her sweater in an identical path taken by its mate. Lois raised her arms obligingly, allowing him to lift the cream sweater over her head. He tossed it to the side where it joined the soft puddle of flannel.
He took his turn to admire her, gazing down at the creamy skin glowing golden with the flickering firelight. Her chest rose rapidly, the swell of her breasts tantalizing as they spilled above the white lace of her bra. As his eyes roved downward, he appreciated the inward curve of her waist and the slight flare of her hips, a figure earned by hours spent at the gym and a lucky mix of good health and heredity. She was exquisite.
Lois stood still, warm under the weight of his stare. His eyes returned to her face, and the wonder she saw in them made her flush with an embarrassed pride. She was glad she pleased him, for he certainly pleased her. Without looking away, she reached behind her back and swiftly maneuvered the clasp that held her bra closed, letting the straps slide down her arms and off her hands. With a flick of her wrist, the scrap of lace landed in the general vicinity of Clark’s shirt and her sweater. He waited a second, a mere heartbeat, before he clutched her to him, crushing her against his chest.
So smoothly that she wasn’t even aware that it was happening, Clark lowered them to the floor, his arm tightening just enough to provide a cradle that supported her weight easily. He reached for the pillow that she’d dropped so long ago, dragging it toward them and placing it under her head. Through the entire maneuver, his lips never stopped their assault on hers. If she hadn’t known him better, she would have sworn it was a move he must have practiced a hundred times.
He covered her body with his, careful to bear most of his weight on his forearms which were placed on either side of her. Skin against skin, she moved beneath him, rubbing against him in an erotic massage. He felt her hips shifting back and forth, and she lifted her shoulders slightly as she reached downward to maneuver something. Reluctantly breaking contact with her sensuous mouth, he glanced downward to see what she was doing. Somehow she’d managed to wiggle out of the her tights, leaving her clad only in a pair of white lace panties. His breath caught in his throat at the realization that nothing remained between her
That takes me back to the scene from Gone With The Wind where Rhett grabs Scarlett, kisses her and carries her up the stairs into the darkness.