So this is my first fanfic and I'm really just testing the waters here. I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I'm still debating on how long I'm going to actually make this story, but feel free to review to let me know if you like it! I hope you enjoy!
…
Clarke wasn't stupid. She wasn't blind to the reasons her family had the money they did. She wasn't ignorant to what happened behind the closed doors to her father's study. There were reasons that cops turned the other way when coming into contact with her. Reasons why her high school boyfriend had mysteriously gotten the snot beat out of him a day after he broke her heart. Her father liked to think that she was innocent. That he sheltered her from the work that he did. That it was just his fatherly love that required her to be at the college in her hometown instead of his incessant need to protect her from his rivals and enemies. But Clarke knew. She wasn't stupid.
Even now, as Clarke walked through the back entrance to one her father's many night clubs, she knew that not even half of the family money came from these clubs. It was just a secure way for her father to launder the money he made in his other businesses.
The bass of the music reverberated in her chest. She relished in the intensity of the feeling mixed with the feel of the sequined dress that hugged her curves and flowed to the floor. She knew her father would have something to say about how the neckline plunged, but the way that the dress shimmered while she walked under the pulsating lights of the dance club made it worth it. Guys turned their heads as she walked by; she felt powerful.
She paused only slightly in her stride for the men outside of her father's booth to lift the velvet rope for her. Briefly kissing her father on the cheek, she took a seat across the table from him. Immediately as she sat down, a wine glass was filled with her father's favorite red wine and set in front of her. She looked up from her sip just in time to see his disapproval at amount of cleavage she was sporting.
"It's nice to see you, Sweetie. I'm glad you could find time away from your school work to have dinner with us." Jake Griffin's tipped his wineglass towards his daughter before taking a long drink from it. Clarke sent him a small smile in reply and tried her best to ignore the looks from the young man next to her. She had hoped it would be just her and her father for dinner, but it looked like he was using her as a distraction tactic for making deal with the Murphys. John Murphy had always expressed an interest in her and she was sure at some point her father would accept some type of marriage contract in order to keep her close to the family and maybe even get some more power over the city from it.
"You look good tonight." John Murphy's voice was like too sweet honey and she tried her best to not show how it grated on her ears. Instead, she busied herself in cutting the chicken breast that the staff had placed in front of her.
"That means so much coming from you, Murphy." Her tone held an underlying bite of sarcasm to indicate to him that she wasn't here for him to look at. She could feel her father's glare across the table without even looking up from her plate. Murphy's father let out a loud laugh.
"Your girl has a cobra's tongue here, Jake!" Thomas Murphy wiped under his eyes like his laughter had brought tears.
The moment passed and the two heads of houses fell into an intense business conversation. Clarke tuned out their vague phrases and cryptic words that they used to hide the real topic of their discussion. She picked at her chicken without really eating it, but motioned for the staff to refill her wine glass. She was on her third, but lord knew how she was going to need it to get through this night. Her gaze wandered out to the dance floor and she wished she had cancelled her dinner plans with her father so that she could've gone to the party that was being thrown back on campus. All of her friends were there already. Clarke was torn from her drifting thoughts when she felt a cold hand through the sequins on her thigh. Her eyes narrowed into slits when she saw Murphy's smirk.
"You wanna keep that hand?" Clarke hissed through her teeth so that their fathers wouldn't hear. They were in some argument about which club was the best to deliver the shipment of "whiskey" to. Clarke almost rolled her eyes.
Murphy responded to her by inching his hand higher. Glancing to make sure her father was distracted, Clarke kicked out with her stiletto and nailed Murphy's shin with it. He let out a yelp and retracted his hand quickly, but both of their fathers' heads turned in their direction. Clarke quickly put her napkin on the table and moved to stand up.
"I really have to get back to campus to work on a paper. Thanks for dinner, Dad." She leaned to kiss her father on the cheek.
Jake Griffin's face openly showed his disappointment. "I'm glad you're taking school so seriously. Come home and visit your mom and I this week. We've hardly seen you since move in."
Clarke felt a twitch of remorse for neglecting to go home for so long. It was quickly disappeared at the thought of how smothered she was at home. "Sure thing, Pop." She flashed a quick smile to Thomas Murphy and made her way out of the club.
…
The air was considerably cooler outside of the club and Clarke took her time walking to her car. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the familiar number of her best friend. When Raven answered, Clarke could hardly hear her from the noise in the background.
"Clarke?"
"Hey, Rae. Where are you guys at? I could use a drink stronger than my dad's wine."
Raven's laugh was harsh and loud over the phone receiver. "I'll text you the address."
Clarke smiled before she hung up. She climbed in her car and started in the direction of her own apartment to change.
…
Bellamy was leaning on the wall in the crowded house. Finn had dragged him to this party against his own will. Apparently he wasn't allowed to be a hermit his senior year of college. Who cared that he had papers to do research for and jobs to apply for after graduation. Who cared that he had slacked off so much the previous three years that he really needed to focus if he wanted to graduate. Who needed to graduate high school and move out into the real world, right?
His eyes found Finn flirting with a drunken freshman across the room, just in time to witness her scribble her number on a piece of paper and hand it to him. The girl giggled and stumbled away to join her giggling, drunk friends. Finn shoved the number in his pocket and strode confidently over to stand with Bellamy on the wall.
"The freshmen this year, man. I'm telling you. They get easier and easier."
Bellamy scoffed at his friend's remark and brought his beer bottle to his lips. "If only you put this much effort into school."
"Always the wet blanket, Bell." Finn grinned at him and opened a new bottle of whiskey. "I don't know how you ever get girls." He poured the amber liquid into a plastic cup and handed it to him. "At least get drunk with me. Maybe then you'll be fun." He teased and held the cup out.
Bellamy scoffed and grudgingly took the cup. "You're a barrel of laughs, Collins."
Finn rolled his eyes. "Fine. If you can out-drink me tonight, I will never pull you out to another party that you don't want to go to."
He smirked and held out his hand. "You're on." He chugged his cup mid handshake.
…
Clarke's sank the ping pong ball into the last red plastic cup on the table her head spun at the cheers that went out around the table. She threw her arms around Raven and they burst into a rendition of We are the Champions that consisted more of drunken screaming than it did actual singing. The girls giggled and Clarke glanced down at the empty cup in her hand.
"Refill." She slurred to Raven over the music of the party and shook her cup for emphasis on its emptiness. Raven yelled for her to hurry back and turned to reset the cups on their side of the table.
Clarke stumbled into the kitchen and aggressively pushed through the crowd to the keg. With her cup full, she turned and felt herself run into a hard body. Her cup tumbled to the floor, spilling the bitter liquid all over her shoes. She first glanced at the puddle she was now standing in and was ready to give the person a piece of her mind for standing too close to her.
She looked up into a flurry of freckles and curls.
…
They stumbled down the hallway as best they could without removing their lips from each other. Clarke's mind was hazy from the alcohol and she could hardly feel how much pressure she was leaning into him, but his lips tasted like the beach and his scent overwhelmed her and turned her on at the same time.
Her back was shoved firmly against a hard surface and she felt his hand behind her fumbling for the door knob. They fell backwards into the room when the door finally opened and he caught her before she made contact with the floor. Using his foot to shut the door, he gently pushed her towards the bed. The backs of her knees made contact with the mattress and she wrapped her fingers in his curls, drunkenly reveling in their softness before using them to pull him to her face.
…
Clarke heard herself let out a low, deep sigh at the feel of lips on her inner thigh.
…
He let out a guttural moan and his fingers gripped her hips so tightly, it was sure to leave bruises the next day.
…
"God, you're amazing."
His voice was rough, but soothing and landed on Clarke's ears like butter. She found herself thinking how much she preferred smooth butter over too sweet honey.
…
Clarke stirred from the deep sleep she was in to roll onto her stomach. Her hair – frizzy from the events of the night before – fell in her face and tickled her nose, but she refused to move to brush it away for fear that the energy would wake her up more than she wanted to be. Already her head was pounding with a hangover and the small amount of sun leaking through the slits in the blinds was making it worse. She buried her face even farther into the pillow and took a deep breath in. The smell of the beach and driftwood invaded her senses.
Her eyes flew open and she stared at the unfamiliar dark blue of the sheets.
She laid still for a moment to hear the soft breathing of someone next to her. Resisting all instinct that was buzzing in her muscles to jump out of bed immediately, she calculated each movement in order to make the least amount of noise possible and slowly stood from the bed. Clothes were thrown haphazardly around the room and she looked down at her bare body, covered in love bites and fingerprint bruises. She grabbed her bra off of the lampshade and turned her back to the man sleeping in the bed and dressed as quietly as possible. She pulled her long, blonde hair into a high ponytail and took almost a full minute to turn the door knob so that it didn't creak. When she finally got the door open, she breathed out a sigh of relief.
"What, no awkward hug goodbye?"
Clarke froze in her tracks, her already large eyes widened in surprise. She slowly turned away from the door and had the decency to look sheepish at the man who was taking care to sit up in the bed. The sheets dropped to his waist and Clarke's eyes automatically slid over his tanned body, her eyes automatically dilating in arousal. She quickly realized her eyes betrayal and snapped her eyes back up to his face and focused on his deep, brown eyes.
"You know, I value my personal space."
"Oh I really got that message last night." His lips turned up in a smirk as her eyes narrowed at his sarcasm.
A few strays fell from her ponytail and she awkwardly brushed them to the side. "Raincheck." Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and walked down the long, dimly lit hallway as quickly as she could without actually running. At the end of the hallway, she came out into a small kitchen/living room combination where another boy with shoulder length brown hair stared at her with wide eyes.
Clarke cleared her throat and dipped her head down, muttering a "Morning," and crossed the room to leave out the front door of the small apartment.
…
Bellamy walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with the towel in his hand and a pair of sweatpants hung low on his waist. His wet hair was already curling as he rubbed the moisture out of it and he meandered into the kitchen. Picking up the half empty pot of cold coffee, he poured some into his mug and put it into the microwave to reheat. He heard Finn clear his throat behind him and turned to lean against the counter behind him. He hung the towel around his shoulder and raised his eyebrow at the laptop in front of Finn.
"Are you actually doing homework?"
"So you and that blonde girl from the party, huh?" Finn ignored Bellamy's dig about doing homework and didn't look up from his laptop.
"What of it?" Bellamy turned to pull his mug out of the microwave and blew on it before taking a scorching gulp. He relished in the burning feel of the black coffee hitting his stomach. It was the best thing to have after a long night of drinking.
"You guys talk much? How much do you know about her?"
"Sorry, Mom. I didn't even get her name."
Finn rolled his eyes at Bellamy's implication that he was being like a mother hen.
"Clarke Griffin."
Bellamy froze mid sip. His eyes widened and his lips were slightly parted above the steaming mug. "You know her?" He asked after a short pause.
"Everyone in this city knows her, Bellamy."
He let out a small chuckle that rumbled down in his ribs and he gently set his unfinished coffee on the counter. "Don't tell me, I slept with the Princess of Ark City last night."
Finn tapped his fingers on the keyboard impatiently. "Something like that." He turned his laptop to face Bellamy and pushed it closer to him. Bellamy leaned down and rested his elbows on the table as he read the old newspaper article that his roommate had pulled up.
His eyes were drawn first to the picture of the blonde that was in his room a few hours before. Her hair was pulled off of her face and she held her hands behind her back in a dignified position. She wore a simple pencil skirt and blouse and stood between a man and a woman dressed impeccably in clothing he would never be able to afford in his life. His eyes drifted up to the bold caption that read Jake Griffin Avoids Conviction.
"What the hell is this?" Bellamy asked, glancing over the top of the laptop to see his roommate staring at him to see his reaction.
"That's Clarke Griffin, Bellamy. Jake Griffin is one of the most powerful mobsters in Ark City. You slept with the pride and joy of the Griffin crime family."
