Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC Comics, not to me.
Chloe's mouth was warm under his, and he kissed her with hard impatience, forcing her lips open, sliding his tongue into her mouth and exploring. She tasted like heaven, sweet and sexy all at the same time. She struggled against him, but her indignant noises had a definite edge of excitement, and he could smell her arousal.
Finally he lifted his head. She glared up at him, bristling belligerently, reminding him of a tiny, outraged kitten baring its claws at a big Rottweiler. "I came here to save you," she snapped.
He kept an arm around her waist, so she couldn't get away, and reached behind his back, snagging his beer off the counter. He took a swig of the amber liquid and looked down at her with a sneering grin."The only thing I want to be saved from is celibacy," he said. "If you want to help me with that, I'm game."
She huffed angrily. "I'm about to go out on a date!"
"Oh, yeah," he drawled. "With Ollie. Where is old Ollie, by the way?"
"He's waiting for me at the restaurant. I'm late. And it's your fault."
"It's not my fault you got yourself all tarted up and followed me," he said, sipping his beer.
"Tarted--" Chloe broke off angrily. "Look," she said, visibly struggling to keep her cool. "Steve called me, because he said you were acting really weird. I asked him what happened, he told me you asked to borrow his ring, and I told him I'd try to find you. I figured you might be here. But I'm dressed up for Ollie, not for you."
She bared her teeth. "I don't know why I bothered. I ought to know by now that once you put one of those rings on, your sense of decency goes right out the window."
He dropped the mug back on the counter and put his other arm around her, tugging her toward him, so their hips were aligned. "I'm just looking for an easy lay, Chlo. Think you can help me out with that?"
She lifted her hand and smacked him across the face, and then yelped.
"You ought to know by now that's not your best move," he said mildly.
She shook her hand. "Ow. Damn it! I think it's broken."
"I doubt it." It might have been if he hadn't automatically turned his head as she struck, so as to save her the force of full impact against his invulnerable aura. He x-rayed her quickly and ascertained that there was no damage, then captured her hand in his. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"
"I need to go..." Her voice trailed off as he lifted her hand to his mouth and began kissing the palm.
"Ummm," she said. All at once the strident note faded from her voice, and her tone became low and husky. "Clark. I really think..."
"Call me Kal."
She rolled her eyes. "Kal. Clark. Jerk. Whatever. Let go of me."
He ran his mouth over the soft flesh of her hand, then parted his lips and stroked his tongue over the delicate lines that creased her palm. A shudder passed through her, and he let his tongue travel a bit, exploring the sensitive flesh between her fingers, then sliding up her index finger and flicking lightly over the tip of her finger. "Clark..."
"Kal," he reminded her.
"Kal." Her voice was very soft. "Stop it. Please."
Somewhere far beneath the cockiness the ring imparted, a touch of decency asserted itself. His parents hadn't raised him to manhandle women, and his upbringing was still there, buried deep below the surface. He lifted his mouth away from her hand and gazed into her eyes.
"I have to get going," she whispered, looking desperate.
"Okay," he said. "But first I want you to dance with me."
She glanced over her shoulder, staring at the crowd as they danced with sexually suggestive motions, hips grinding together and bodies intertwined. "Uh. I really think..."
He leaned forward and spoke softly, persuasively, into her ear. "Just one dance."
He felt a shiver run through her.
"All right," she said softly. "Just one dance."
Kal led Chloe toward a dark corner of the dance floor, put his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him, hard. The music hammered in his ears, sexual and relentless, and he let one of his hands drop to her ass and yanked her against him even more tightly.
She put her hands against his chest, shoved hard, and glared at him. "Excuse me. I said a dance. That does not mean you have permission to put your hands all over me."
"Look around you," he said. "That's what it means here."
She glanced around, looking over the couples, many of whom were dancing every bit as close as they were, and then her eyes widened as she spotted a particular pair nearby. "Are they..."
"Oh, my God. That's disgusting."
"You think so?" He bent down and nibbled at her earlobe. "Looks like fun to me."
"Clark." She batted at his shoulders. "Cut it out."
"That's not my name."
"Look," she offered, sounding increasingly desperate, "I'll call you Kal if you'll take your hands off my ass. Okay?"
He lifted his head and thought about that for a minute."I don't think so," he said at last. "Doesn't sound like a really good bargain to me."
"Damn it, Clark. Get your hands off me. I have a boyfriend."
All his muscles tensed, the way they did just before he got into a fight, and adrenaline poured into his bloodstream. "Is Ollie really your boyfriend?"
She must have felt his tension, or heard the barely controlled rage in his voice, because she lifted her head, looking wary. "We've been dating for a few weeks."
"Have you slept with him yet?"
"That's none of your damn business."
"Come on, Chlo," he coaxed, splaying his hand over one of the rounded cheeks of her ass, squeezing the warm, soft flesh, and pulling her even closer. "I really want to know. Are the two of you sleeping together?"
She hesitated for a long moment. "Not yet."
Relief flooded him. "Not ever," he said harshly, squeezing her harder. "You're mine."
"And you're deluded."
"I don't think so. I'm not giving you up to some other guy."
"You're being irrational, Clark. You don't have the slightest interest in me, and never did. What is your problem tonight? Is it just the red K?"
"No," he said into her hair, breathing in her fragrance, the scent of vanilla and clean skin and spicy arousal that was so intense, and so vividly clear to him, that he could have smelled it from a hundred yards away, even in this crowded room. "I've always been interested in you."
"Crap. You came here looking for any random girl to have sex with."
"Only because I couldn't have you," he said, pulling her against him again, letting her feel his erection burning against her. "But you're here now, and I'm not letting you go. You belong to me, Chloe. Not Ollie. Me."
"Don't I get a choice in the matter?"
He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes.
"No," he said flatly. "You don't."
Read Chapter 3 here.