You're My Angel, Chapter 3

Clark/Chloe
Season 5, rewrite of "Exposed"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

A few hours later, Clark found himself being herded out of the club’s main room with a large group of the club’s patrons. His hands were cuffed behind his back, which was a lot like trying to cuff a human’s hands with tissue paper, although the cops had no way of knowing that. At any rate, he had no intention of giving away his secrets unless he had to.

A group of girls were being urged in the other direction, and he spotted Chloe, still wearing her long white gown and diaphanous wings. Since the guy with the heavy accent had expressed an interest in her, he’d been keeping an ear on her heartbeat, and he’d known she was still in the building, and perfectly all right.

But although he'd been aware of her presence in an unconscious sort of way, he wasn’t prepared for his body’s reaction to the sight of her in her costume. Memories suddenly flashed through his brain. He remembered watching her strip on stage, remembered seeing her bare, beautiful breasts as she undulated around the pole, remembered the feeling of her wiggling in his lap.

He had to struggle to fight down his physical response, because this really wasn’t the time to be indulging in fantasies.

Which was really too damn bad, because he suddenly had a whole lot of fantasies he wanted to indulge in.

“Hey, Chlo,” he said urgently, breaking out of the line for just a minute and blocking her path. “You need to be careful. There’s a guy with a Slavic accent who... who wants you for some reason.”

“That’s weird.” Her eyebrows drew together as she looked up at him. “The other girls told me some guy with a heavy accent has been taking girls out of here, one every month or so. One of them had the romantic notion he was taking them off to tropical islands somewhere and making their dreams come true, but another girl had a darker take on it.”

Clark frowned, ignoring the police officer who beckoned to him impatiently. “A darker take? I don’t get it, Chlo. Why the hell would he be buying strippers?”

“I can make a wild guess,” she said dryly. “What exactly was he offering the club owner to take me off his hands?”

“Five hundred grand.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wow. I’m not saying I’m not worth it, but that’s a lot of cash. Especially for a massage with benefits, which is what I’d assume he had in mind. But maybe not.” She frowned. “So the owner of the Wingate is apparently selling girls to the highest bidder.”

“Sounds like it.”

“That’s a pretty damn high bid, Clark. What could he possibly be using these women for?”

“Not sure. But I want you to watch your back. He’s really interested in you.”

“Any idea what his name is?”

“No. I heard the bouncer tell Detective Sawyer he’s the son of a foreign diplomat, though.”

“Okay.” She reached up and dropped something into the inside pocket of his suit coat. Her hand brushed against his chest, and even through the broadcloth of his shirt he could feel the warmth of her hand. He suddenly imagined her palm stroking his bare chest, and heat sizzled through his nervous system, making him hard in an instant.

He looked down in order to conceal any hint of his reaction that might show in his eyes, and realized she'd dropped her cell phone into his pocket. “Before my, uh, performance I slipped out into the parking lot and took pictures of all the license plates," she explained. "He ought to have diplomatic plates. When the cops let you go, head over to the Planet and see if you can’t trace his name.”

The mention of her "performance" only made him harder. He pushed the memory aside, as best he could, and frowned. She’d shown him how to use the database at the Daily Planet to gather basic information, but he didn’t like the idea of abandoning her here, at the mercy of some guy who wanted her for God only knew what. “I’m not leaving you here alone, Chlo.”

“The place is swarming with cops, and I can take care of myself. Anyway… superspeed, remember? I’d only slow you down. Once they let you go, you can get to the Planet and back in five minutes, tops. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey, Kent! Move it!”

The cops started herding them in opposite directions. Chloe flashed him a quick, bright smile before she turned away and walked after the other girls. Clark went up the staircase with the other patrons of the establishment. He shot a wistful glance after her, seeing the way the light shone through her wings, admiring the way the demure white gown clung to the sleek curves of her body.

She definitely looked like an angel, he thought.

Although he was willing to bet there wasn't an angel in Heaven with such a gorgeous ass.

Read Chapter 4 here.