Title: Flash--A Short, Somewhat Smutty Ficlet
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Rating: Somewhere in the questionable territory between R & something more like NC-13. I'm rating this R, but if you're offended by anything sexual, turn back now.
Author's Note: This is just a tiny little ficlet, definitely smutty and COMPLETELY unrealistic, to get the thought out of my head. If you like it, great, if you don't, that's fine by me too. But if you DO think it's cool, please, review. And I can't guarantee that it's good, either, but read on--Annest
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There was something...something in the way that she moved, that made his blood boil. What was almost hatred catapulted its way to the front of Lex's heart, because he couldn't figure her out. Couldn't figure his feelings for her out.
It was that night, the first night anything had happened; he was hosting a party. Correction, a huge blowout. Clark wanted a surprise party for Lana's birthday. And what Wonder Boy wanted, Wonder Boy usually got. But not by going about things illegally like other people did. Or perhaps Lex was the only one. He preferred not to dwell on that. So there he was, in the massive kitchen, preparing drinks for the post party partiers...Clark, Lana, Pete, Chloe and himself. The house staff was scurrying, unseen, to clean up the mess his latest small town exploits had created. And the physical mess wasn't the least of it.
Someone bumped into him from behind. But Lex didn't look, couldn't look. Refused to look.
"Don't you pay people to do this?" came the biting voice. Now he had to look; retaliation was better that way.
"I'm not sure, but I can do things for myself. At least I'm not used to getting paid for what I do," came his retort. The way it was delivered, she understood the full meaning.
"You're right, you're used to paying for it. That's the only way you can get...good help," Chloe finished with a smirk. Lex wasn't sure what he was ready to do; kill her or nip at her neck until she started to beg. He'd take the second one any day, he might just kill her afterward. There was a pause in conversation as he contemplated her smooth neck, the graceful expanse of clear skin. And when he spoke, it was without malice.
"I'm sorry," he apolgized. Chloe dropped the plastic glass she was holding onto the table.
"Don't be. I didn't mind."
Another lull in conversation as they both thought. Lex stuck another cup under the automatic ice dispenser. It was chilled against the plastic, and his fingers were cold. But there was no time like the present. Chloe started to walk past him, brushed by on her way to the laughing voices that drifted out of the den.
"This...dance," he said sparingly, glancing her way casually. Chloe knew immediately, paused. Turned. Wanted so badly to...wanted him so badly.
"Loyalty," she told him.
"Yes, so I hear," he shot back softly. "Let me go with you."
"You just asked. Not ordered, you...asked. First apologizing, then actually asking," Chloe retorted. Lex's temper flared.
"Be ready, okay? Next Friday. I'll be outside your house at seven, precisely. And then there will be no asking about it." Then Lex was the one to brush past her, act like nothing had happened. And they still wanted each other.
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She was a princess. She was Cinderella, covered with smudged ink and dressed in news print. Her moods were measured in picas, her life detailed in margins, her usual, every day thoughts highlighted in the classic red pen of an editor. But tonite was different.
Tonight she had not had coffee.
So there she was, a shimmering dream in ivory and merlot-coloured chiffon, an image of classic Chloe, the fitted bodice, the flowing, puffed skirt that poured like wine over her compact body, covered by the loose, see through ivory that looked like angel wings.
And her hair was in sponge rollers, her left ballet slipper MIA and she had just recreated Lucile Ball's lipstick technique when the door bell rang. At least she didn't have to worry about her father opening the door, seeing Lex, his boss, ready to pick up Chloe. Lex had sent him away on plant business.
Lex was a clever man. And not at all inept at this...whatever this was. And being intelligent, he'd also let himself in.
Ten minutes later she was gracefully gliding to meet him, one foot after the other on the steps. She could be poised; she wasn't wearing heels. And wished she had. He was intimidating; how could she not have remembered?
The first words he said shocked her, the second ones he said sent a pang right through her chest. And then there were no more words at all.
"You're beautiful, Ms. Sullivan," Lex told her, a predatory gleam in his eyes, blazing so that Chloe could almost see it coming to her from his gaze. She took a step back. Didn't know why.
"I want you."
And he had her against the wall, alternately crushing and coaxing her lips beneath his, urging her to open, delving his tongue inside the velvet recesses when she gasped, and it turned into a sigh. They were pressed together, against the doorjam, his hands bracketing her waist, hers fisted against his chest, and then all the sudden it stopped, and Lex was leading her, like a gentleman again, not mentioning anything, into the awaiting limo.
Chloe was hot, feverish, trying to cool down from the shock inside as she was assaulted by the freezing Midwest January air, then a second surprise to see Lana & Clark already in the limo. It was warm, and Chloe's system couldn't take too many more of the changes outside, let alone in. Clark and Lana were sitting close, but not in the ridiculous teenage way of practically jumping one another in the backseat of the pre-dance limo. They sat along one side of the interior, listening to trumpet jazz music as it wafted over the Bose speakers.
"Miles Davis," Chloe remarked as she sat down. Lex followed, giving her a piercing look that she found impossible to read. "What?" The gaze continued; Chloe started to shiver. It felt like he was burning her. Lex handed her his coat, a gorgeous silk creation, but that wasn't enough. He was still looking at her as he sat right next to her, too close for comfort, her chiffon creation brushing against his silk-covered thigh, effortlessly placing the jacket around her, lingering too long, with the same look in his eyes. Almost like he was angry. Almost like he was...
It was twenty minutes down the road to the school that he leaned closer, when Clark and Lana were busy speaking in hushed tones into each other's ear, and followed suit.
"Dance only with me tonight," he whispered into Chloe's ear, a feather-light voice. Even if the other two had looked up, peered closely, they wouldn't have seen anything. Chloe bent her head toward Lex to hear what he said, then farther, to whisper back.
"What makes you think I'll dance with you at all?" she said in a deadly quiet voice full of mock indignation. But Lex's mouth was on her neck, burning a trail up to her ear, caressing the velvet with his tongue, taking the lobe between his teeth, then back down, nipping down the neck, and Chloe shivered again, the tension in her body building, and her hips jerked up from the seat, just the slightest, and Lex placed his hand on her other side, holding her down a bit, not to make a scene, but Clark and Lana didn't look, didn't bother.
So he continued, blazing the line of kisses up and down her neck, around, dipping low, and Chloe did all she could to not whimper aloud, not let go and say his name, and her hand dropped to his hip, stroking softly, and he bit down on her neck, hard enough to make her cry out, and he apologize silently, for reacting to the shock, by laving her smooth skin with his tongue, and she, aroused by the assault of his teeth, by the almost bruising way he had surely marked her, became more brazen, rubbing her hand closer, closer, over his thigh, over smooth muscle and quiet silk, until he had to restrain himself from moaning too. Chloe looked up to see Clark and Lana sharing a sweetly intimate, deep kiss. She looked at her hand, stroking Lex's thigh, and down as he smoothly kissed his way back up her neck, to her mouth, fusing his lips with hers. And then she didn't quite care what she saw.
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The dance was crowded, the people packed, the atmosphere almost stifling, and Chloe, Lex, Lana and Clark were in the middle of it. Lana and Clark mainly to fulfill the horrid social duty of being seen on the dance floor as Lana and Clark, and Chloe and Lex because the place seemed like the best possible to relieve the tension they had built up in the last half hour, give or take a few months. Dancing against each other, up close, so packed in Chloe could feel Lex, and she was almost scared. Breaking away, but he pulled her back in, dragging her against him, and ground his hips against hers, allowing her head to fall back, eyes closed as she danced as close as she could get, pressing closer, more insistent as he kissed her exposed neck. She braced her hands on his hips, then wrapped them around his waist as he did the same to her. Their bodies were flush, tight, hot, and Lex could feel her body jump, twist, tense up, dying to release. Chloe couldn't get close enough, arching to meet his hips, wanting to beg him, wanting to touch him. She pulled herself up to him, throwing her arms tight around his shoulders, using him to get closer, so he concentrated on her ear lobe, nipping, biting, sucking it into his mouth, and Chloe dragged herself up on his body enough to whisper in his ear.
"I want to touch you. I want you to touch me," she said in a hush, then slid back down. Up, down, stroking along the length of his body, and feeling him deeper and deeper. Chloe spread her legs a little wider every time so at last she rested on his arousal, and she gasped, pressed onto him by an ever-crowding group of teenagers, and her arms were almost completely around his neck. She bucked against his hips, riding him, begging softly into his ear. "Please, I....oh my.....Lex......I.....hot....I'm so.....please, I'll do an....Lex, please.....Lex, I'm begging ....ooooh.....I'm so......Lex I'm....Please," she pleaded, almost crying in his ear, softly so that only he could hear, and he eased her down, bending a little to hear her.
"What did you say?" he questioned, the gleam in his eyes again. Chloe's eyes drifted shut, open again.
"I.....it's so crowded in here," she said against his chest.
"That's not what you said," Lex shot back quietly. Chloe glared, still hot, still heavy, wanting him so badly, and yet so annoyed at the same time.
"I said..." His look told her...told her something. "Please, Lex, touch me," Chloe gave up and told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I begged you and you haven't yet and I'm..."
"You're?" he coaxed. Chloe felt like she was getting instructions on how to be aroused, the thought itself arousing her even more.
"I begged you to...to touch me and you haven't yet and I'm so...I'm so...wet, and I can feel it, and I need to feel...I don't quite know what I need to feel."
Lex knew it had to end. Once upon a time, when he was young--very young--he would have pushed her up against the wall, hidden by the throng of people, and taken all sorts of advantages with her. But not now. Not this time.
Not Chloe.
But how he wanted to. He'd even think of new advantages to take. And how fun that would be.
Well, perhaps. He'd never considered falling in love with her. It was like mixing pleasure with pleasure. And Lex kind of assumed Chloe wouldn't mind at all.
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It was a week. 7 days. 7 long days. And she was dying. Here in the Torch, alone at five on Friday, working on the computer layout as usual. She was bored as heck, groaning aloud that she still had to do a physical paste up.
"So 20th century," she remarked, then paused a moment later.
"This is great, Sullivan. It's only been a week and you're already so crazy you're talking to yourself. I knew I should have brought another couple of cups of coffee. I swear, if he had just called..." Then there were fingers, finding her there, the heat began to rush, wet, slick, and she knew who it was, and her eyes slammed shut, leaning back as he began to stroke, fingering lightly, and she opened her eyes once again, pretending to look at the paste up in front of her.
"I think the margin's a little tight," she commented breathlessly. In her ear he shot back a heady response.
"You're tight for me, aren't you?" Chloe continued, catching the game, running with it.
"I think the headline's big--almost too big, it'll be such a tight squeeze," she murmured, rubbing against his fingers. First one finger, his index finger, stroking lightly, in circles.
"Oh, Chloe, the head will be perfect. It's big, big enough to fill your mouth." She gasped, hard against his fingers. "And it's big, but just right for a tight--" plunge a second finger in, viciously, and Chloe cried out, swearing, "little reporter like you. Tight, aren't you?" The two fingers came swirling in, out, not breaking through yet, knowing he wouldn't.
"And...oh, that's...that's nice," she breathed, calming as they slowed, gentled. And Lex drew his hand away, she whimpered, and he claimed it with a kiss. Almost apologizing for the aggression, the pent up tension, the heat. Moments later she found herself in the limo once again, gazing at the bed that the back had been transformed into in a dreamlike haze as Lex gently stroked her sides, her arms, her face, and she did the same. Breaking away for a second, she looked up as he closed the door and locked it.
"We'll--I didn't want to wait, but if you do, Chloe, we can. We'll go to your house, or my house, whichever makes you happier, baby, if you don't--" Chloe silenced him, pulled away.
"I think it's fine, I think it's okay. I think it's the back of a limo, Lex,--a very nice, actually comfortable bed in the back of a limo, should I say--" Hurt, or disappointment, or something, showed on his face, his features downcast, but then she spoke again. "But you're here, and that's all that makes me happy." They met again in a soul searching kiss, guiding their hands along one another gently, a thousand times softer than the most intimate caress, making up for the fire, the heat, the viciousness of before.
"Make love to me, Alexander," Chloe said, softly searching his eyes in the darkness of the limo. They came together softly, lovingly, more than Lex could have ever imagined, because it was Chloe, and when he was with her, she was still her. And that made them something real.
There was a fine line between love and hate. And there was something in the way she moved.
On top of his silk sheets, much, much later, Lex turned over to glance at the clock, blink before the flashing red numbers came into focus. So he knew it was 4:39 a.m., when Chloe, from her place, her place forever, in the middle of his ocean of a bed, in his mansion, in his home, in his heart, placed a light hand on his turned waist and spoke to him, quiet words he'd never forget.
"I love you too."
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Author's end thing: OK, OK, I know, there was sooooo much...out of character smut. But I had to get the idea out of my head. If you liked it, review, and if you didn't, I don't care at all, don't waste your time (it's 3:41 a.m. and I'm a little...snappy) Anyway, thanks for reading this!--Annest
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Rating: Somewhere in the questionable territory between R & something more like NC-13. I'm rating this R, but if you're offended by anything sexual, turn back now.
Author's Note: This is just a tiny little ficlet, definitely smutty and COMPLETELY unrealistic, to get the thought out of my head. If you like it, great, if you don't, that's fine by me too. But if you DO think it's cool, please, review. And I can't guarantee that it's good, either, but read on--Annest
_________________________________
There was something...something in the way that she moved, that made his blood boil. What was almost hatred catapulted its way to the front of Lex's heart, because he couldn't figure her out. Couldn't figure his feelings for her out.
It was that night, the first night anything had happened; he was hosting a party. Correction, a huge blowout. Clark wanted a surprise party for Lana's birthday. And what Wonder Boy wanted, Wonder Boy usually got. But not by going about things illegally like other people did. Or perhaps Lex was the only one. He preferred not to dwell on that. So there he was, in the massive kitchen, preparing drinks for the post party partiers...Clark, Lana, Pete, Chloe and himself. The house staff was scurrying, unseen, to clean up the mess his latest small town exploits had created. And the physical mess wasn't the least of it.
Someone bumped into him from behind. But Lex didn't look, couldn't look. Refused to look.
"Don't you pay people to do this?" came the biting voice. Now he had to look; retaliation was better that way.
"I'm not sure, but I can do things for myself. At least I'm not used to getting paid for what I do," came his retort. The way it was delivered, she understood the full meaning.
"You're right, you're used to paying for it. That's the only way you can get...good help," Chloe finished with a smirk. Lex wasn't sure what he was ready to do; kill her or nip at her neck until she started to beg. He'd take the second one any day, he might just kill her afterward. There was a pause in conversation as he contemplated her smooth neck, the graceful expanse of clear skin. And when he spoke, it was without malice.
"I'm sorry," he apolgized. Chloe dropped the plastic glass she was holding onto the table.
"Don't be. I didn't mind."
Another lull in conversation as they both thought. Lex stuck another cup under the automatic ice dispenser. It was chilled against the plastic, and his fingers were cold. But there was no time like the present. Chloe started to walk past him, brushed by on her way to the laughing voices that drifted out of the den.
"This...dance," he said sparingly, glancing her way casually. Chloe knew immediately, paused. Turned. Wanted so badly to...wanted him so badly.
"Loyalty," she told him.
"Yes, so I hear," he shot back softly. "Let me go with you."
"You just asked. Not ordered, you...asked. First apologizing, then actually asking," Chloe retorted. Lex's temper flared.
"Be ready, okay? Next Friday. I'll be outside your house at seven, precisely. And then there will be no asking about it." Then Lex was the one to brush past her, act like nothing had happened. And they still wanted each other.
______________________________________
She was a princess. She was Cinderella, covered with smudged ink and dressed in news print. Her moods were measured in picas, her life detailed in margins, her usual, every day thoughts highlighted in the classic red pen of an editor. But tonite was different.
Tonight she had not had coffee.
So there she was, a shimmering dream in ivory and merlot-coloured chiffon, an image of classic Chloe, the fitted bodice, the flowing, puffed skirt that poured like wine over her compact body, covered by the loose, see through ivory that looked like angel wings.
And her hair was in sponge rollers, her left ballet slipper MIA and she had just recreated Lucile Ball's lipstick technique when the door bell rang. At least she didn't have to worry about her father opening the door, seeing Lex, his boss, ready to pick up Chloe. Lex had sent him away on plant business.
Lex was a clever man. And not at all inept at this...whatever this was. And being intelligent, he'd also let himself in.
Ten minutes later she was gracefully gliding to meet him, one foot after the other on the steps. She could be poised; she wasn't wearing heels. And wished she had. He was intimidating; how could she not have remembered?
The first words he said shocked her, the second ones he said sent a pang right through her chest. And then there were no more words at all.
"You're beautiful, Ms. Sullivan," Lex told her, a predatory gleam in his eyes, blazing so that Chloe could almost see it coming to her from his gaze. She took a step back. Didn't know why.
"I want you."
And he had her against the wall, alternately crushing and coaxing her lips beneath his, urging her to open, delving his tongue inside the velvet recesses when she gasped, and it turned into a sigh. They were pressed together, against the doorjam, his hands bracketing her waist, hers fisted against his chest, and then all the sudden it stopped, and Lex was leading her, like a gentleman again, not mentioning anything, into the awaiting limo.
Chloe was hot, feverish, trying to cool down from the shock inside as she was assaulted by the freezing Midwest January air, then a second surprise to see Lana & Clark already in the limo. It was warm, and Chloe's system couldn't take too many more of the changes outside, let alone in. Clark and Lana were sitting close, but not in the ridiculous teenage way of practically jumping one another in the backseat of the pre-dance limo. They sat along one side of the interior, listening to trumpet jazz music as it wafted over the Bose speakers.
"Miles Davis," Chloe remarked as she sat down. Lex followed, giving her a piercing look that she found impossible to read. "What?" The gaze continued; Chloe started to shiver. It felt like he was burning her. Lex handed her his coat, a gorgeous silk creation, but that wasn't enough. He was still looking at her as he sat right next to her, too close for comfort, her chiffon creation brushing against his silk-covered thigh, effortlessly placing the jacket around her, lingering too long, with the same look in his eyes. Almost like he was angry. Almost like he was...
It was twenty minutes down the road to the school that he leaned closer, when Clark and Lana were busy speaking in hushed tones into each other's ear, and followed suit.
"Dance only with me tonight," he whispered into Chloe's ear, a feather-light voice. Even if the other two had looked up, peered closely, they wouldn't have seen anything. Chloe bent her head toward Lex to hear what he said, then farther, to whisper back.
"What makes you think I'll dance with you at all?" she said in a deadly quiet voice full of mock indignation. But Lex's mouth was on her neck, burning a trail up to her ear, caressing the velvet with his tongue, taking the lobe between his teeth, then back down, nipping down the neck, and Chloe shivered again, the tension in her body building, and her hips jerked up from the seat, just the slightest, and Lex placed his hand on her other side, holding her down a bit, not to make a scene, but Clark and Lana didn't look, didn't bother.
So he continued, blazing the line of kisses up and down her neck, around, dipping low, and Chloe did all she could to not whimper aloud, not let go and say his name, and her hand dropped to his hip, stroking softly, and he bit down on her neck, hard enough to make her cry out, and he apologize silently, for reacting to the shock, by laving her smooth skin with his tongue, and she, aroused by the assault of his teeth, by the almost bruising way he had surely marked her, became more brazen, rubbing her hand closer, closer, over his thigh, over smooth muscle and quiet silk, until he had to restrain himself from moaning too. Chloe looked up to see Clark and Lana sharing a sweetly intimate, deep kiss. She looked at her hand, stroking Lex's thigh, and down as he smoothly kissed his way back up her neck, to her mouth, fusing his lips with hers. And then she didn't quite care what she saw.
________________________________________
The dance was crowded, the people packed, the atmosphere almost stifling, and Chloe, Lex, Lana and Clark were in the middle of it. Lana and Clark mainly to fulfill the horrid social duty of being seen on the dance floor as Lana and Clark, and Chloe and Lex because the place seemed like the best possible to relieve the tension they had built up in the last half hour, give or take a few months. Dancing against each other, up close, so packed in Chloe could feel Lex, and she was almost scared. Breaking away, but he pulled her back in, dragging her against him, and ground his hips against hers, allowing her head to fall back, eyes closed as she danced as close as she could get, pressing closer, more insistent as he kissed her exposed neck. She braced her hands on his hips, then wrapped them around his waist as he did the same to her. Their bodies were flush, tight, hot, and Lex could feel her body jump, twist, tense up, dying to release. Chloe couldn't get close enough, arching to meet his hips, wanting to beg him, wanting to touch him. She pulled herself up to him, throwing her arms tight around his shoulders, using him to get closer, so he concentrated on her ear lobe, nipping, biting, sucking it into his mouth, and Chloe dragged herself up on his body enough to whisper in his ear.
"I want to touch you. I want you to touch me," she said in a hush, then slid back down. Up, down, stroking along the length of his body, and feeling him deeper and deeper. Chloe spread her legs a little wider every time so at last she rested on his arousal, and she gasped, pressed onto him by an ever-crowding group of teenagers, and her arms were almost completely around his neck. She bucked against his hips, riding him, begging softly into his ear. "Please, I....oh my.....Lex......I.....hot....I'm so.....please, I'll do an....Lex, please.....Lex, I'm begging ....ooooh.....I'm so......Lex I'm....Please," she pleaded, almost crying in his ear, softly so that only he could hear, and he eased her down, bending a little to hear her.
"What did you say?" he questioned, the gleam in his eyes again. Chloe's eyes drifted shut, open again.
"I.....it's so crowded in here," she said against his chest.
"That's not what you said," Lex shot back quietly. Chloe glared, still hot, still heavy, wanting him so badly, and yet so annoyed at the same time.
"I said..." His look told her...told her something. "Please, Lex, touch me," Chloe gave up and told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I begged you and you haven't yet and I'm..."
"You're?" he coaxed. Chloe felt like she was getting instructions on how to be aroused, the thought itself arousing her even more.
"I begged you to...to touch me and you haven't yet and I'm so...I'm so...wet, and I can feel it, and I need to feel...I don't quite know what I need to feel."
Lex knew it had to end. Once upon a time, when he was young--very young--he would have pushed her up against the wall, hidden by the throng of people, and taken all sorts of advantages with her. But not now. Not this time.
Not Chloe.
But how he wanted to. He'd even think of new advantages to take. And how fun that would be.
Well, perhaps. He'd never considered falling in love with her. It was like mixing pleasure with pleasure. And Lex kind of assumed Chloe wouldn't mind at all.
____________________________________
It was a week. 7 days. 7 long days. And she was dying. Here in the Torch, alone at five on Friday, working on the computer layout as usual. She was bored as heck, groaning aloud that she still had to do a physical paste up.
"So 20th century," she remarked, then paused a moment later.
"This is great, Sullivan. It's only been a week and you're already so crazy you're talking to yourself. I knew I should have brought another couple of cups of coffee. I swear, if he had just called..." Then there were fingers, finding her there, the heat began to rush, wet, slick, and she knew who it was, and her eyes slammed shut, leaning back as he began to stroke, fingering lightly, and she opened her eyes once again, pretending to look at the paste up in front of her.
"I think the margin's a little tight," she commented breathlessly. In her ear he shot back a heady response.
"You're tight for me, aren't you?" Chloe continued, catching the game, running with it.
"I think the headline's big--almost too big, it'll be such a tight squeeze," she murmured, rubbing against his fingers. First one finger, his index finger, stroking lightly, in circles.
"Oh, Chloe, the head will be perfect. It's big, big enough to fill your mouth." She gasped, hard against his fingers. "And it's big, but just right for a tight--" plunge a second finger in, viciously, and Chloe cried out, swearing, "little reporter like you. Tight, aren't you?" The two fingers came swirling in, out, not breaking through yet, knowing he wouldn't.
"And...oh, that's...that's nice," she breathed, calming as they slowed, gentled. And Lex drew his hand away, she whimpered, and he claimed it with a kiss. Almost apologizing for the aggression, the pent up tension, the heat. Moments later she found herself in the limo once again, gazing at the bed that the back had been transformed into in a dreamlike haze as Lex gently stroked her sides, her arms, her face, and she did the same. Breaking away for a second, she looked up as he closed the door and locked it.
"We'll--I didn't want to wait, but if you do, Chloe, we can. We'll go to your house, or my house, whichever makes you happier, baby, if you don't--" Chloe silenced him, pulled away.
"I think it's fine, I think it's okay. I think it's the back of a limo, Lex,--a very nice, actually comfortable bed in the back of a limo, should I say--" Hurt, or disappointment, or something, showed on his face, his features downcast, but then she spoke again. "But you're here, and that's all that makes me happy." They met again in a soul searching kiss, guiding their hands along one another gently, a thousand times softer than the most intimate caress, making up for the fire, the heat, the viciousness of before.
"Make love to me, Alexander," Chloe said, softly searching his eyes in the darkness of the limo. They came together softly, lovingly, more than Lex could have ever imagined, because it was Chloe, and when he was with her, she was still her. And that made them something real.
There was a fine line between love and hate. And there was something in the way she moved.
On top of his silk sheets, much, much later, Lex turned over to glance at the clock, blink before the flashing red numbers came into focus. So he knew it was 4:39 a.m., when Chloe, from her place, her place forever, in the middle of his ocean of a bed, in his mansion, in his home, in his heart, placed a light hand on his turned waist and spoke to him, quiet words he'd never forget.
"I love you too."
____________________________________
Author's end thing: OK, OK, I know, there was sooooo much...out of character smut. But I had to get the idea out of my head. If you liked it, review, and if you didn't, I don't care at all, don't waste your time (it's 3:41 a.m. and I'm a little...snappy) Anyway, thanks for reading this!--Annest