Chapter Four

He was in his gear, looking down at the Daily Planet building. It had been two days since he met C. Sullivan, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that before, especially after knowing who he was.

Women had a tendency to respond to him in a few ways- some got in his bed, hoping that they could fake a pregnancy with his illegitimate child down the road and get his money. Others tried their hardest to get dirt on him so that they could paste it all over the tabloids, and the rest of them avoided him in what felt like almost fear of any damage he could cause in the world with his power.

Two days of Oliver reading the gossip columns of every newspaper in Metropolis, and there wasn't a single C. Sullivan reporting on meeting him. He had a couple of theories so far. There was the possibility that she was just taunting him, that she didn't work for the Daily Planet at all.

He thought to himself for a split second that maybe she just wasn't a very good writer, but her aggression and determination showed that she was the kind of woman who got anything that she wanted. Not because all she had to do was bat her eyelashes and daddy would get it for her, but because she worked for it.

The Daily Planet wasn't normally on his patrol route, but he needed to know her. So he would suit up, fight crime when it was needed instead of looking around for it, and get right back over here, where he could catch people leaving the Daily Planet building.

He must have kept missing her, because he never found her, and he was giving up on using this method to do it. Oliver didn't just put on the green leather and zip-line around Metropolis for his health, he did it to save people. And Sullivan was preventing him from being able to do it with his full potential.

Oliver hired Emil in case there was an emergency because he needed to stitch his own leg together. It was healing nicely, and the doctor fixed him up properly, but that wasn't going to stop him either.

He remembered that this woman was a patient in Emil's office, and that because of that, she must have some sort of file. Granted, she was a special patient, but there must be a phone number at the very least. Or some sort of address. Sullivan was a common last name and that wasn't much to go on.

He turned away from the Daily Planet at the end of the night and zip-lined back to the penthouse.

Oliver sat in the penthouse the next day, trying to resist the urge to ask Emil for the contact information of C. Sullivan, but knew that asking would probably land him a lecture about patient confidentiality.

He stared at his phone for a couple of minutes until the screen finally went black before deciding on the next best idea that he had, he picked up the phone and called a receptionist so that she could give him the number.

The redhead had to be the one. He gave her a call, and his first question for her was what she was wearing.

"Red blouse and a brown skirt", she whispered before giggling.

Oliver rolled his eyes at his desk. Why did she have to constantly giggle? What the hell was the matter with her?

"What about...under the skirt?" he asked, squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers tightly. She was very frustrating to interact with, but the moment she picked up on it, he would lose his best chance of getting Sullivan's number.

"The same beige tights I wear every day", she whispered quickly before taking a deep breath. "God, you're so bad."

"Well, it's not fun if I'm a good boy, now is it?"

She started giggling again. Good, she was distracted.

"Listen", he said, staying on task. "There was a patient that came in the other day and I was wondering if you could pull up the contact information." Good, he managed to avoid all versions of she and her. "C. Sullivan, I think."

He could hear some slow typing before she answered. "You want Chloe Sullivan's number?"

Chloe. Nice name.

"Hey, it's not like that." But it was. Still is. "She just got upset with me the other day and I want to apologize."

"You're really sweet, but you know that I can't give you that."

"Just a number", he insisted. "So I can call and apologize. That's it. Besides, why would I want anything else when I get to see a woman like you whenever I want?"

There was a voice in the distance, calling the redhead somewhere. "555-0164", she whispered quickly. "I've got to go. Dinner later?"

He wrote the number down. "Absolutely. Meet me there at seven?"

He heard her squeal with excitement and he hung up the phone, letting out a sigh.

He knew where he wasn't going to be around seven o'clock, and that was anywhere near squealing redheads. But if he was lucky, he could be around a sexy, witty blonde.

A sexy, witty blond that wasn't him, of course.

He dialed the number and waited for a distracted voice to answer. "Sullivan here."

"So I'm looking at the Daily Planet and I don't see an article about me. Thanks for that."

She let out a scoff. "That wasn't for you, rich boy. I've been busy. You know, real news. I'm not a gossip columnist."

"I understand busy, lady", he said, smiling at the irritation.

Oliver thought that the yoga was supposed to help with any repressed anger and help him to be a more peaceful person as well as the strengthening. Turns out it didn't work, and was just helping him to be a masochist.

It was the only explanation as to why he couldn't stand women giggling at his every word and why he had a desperate need to find a woman who pelted him with her purse and kneed him in the groin.

"I understand it enough to know that sometimes, a break is welcome. So how about dinner?"

"I can't. I'm working", she said as she typed quickly.

"If you need someone to talk to"

"-I'll what?" she interrupted "Pick up the phone, schedule dinner and have my personal life and secrets splattered across the tabloids?"

"I can avoid the paparazzi if I want to", he said, almost insulted. "Here's an idea. How about you meet me for something that resembles some sort of meal to shut me up? Because otherwise, I'll just keep calling and calling and calling and calling"

"-Already, that is so enough."

He smirked. "And calling and calling and calling."

"Fine", she said quickly.

"Really."

"Coffee. Won't really be a date for me since I pretty much live off of it. Could probably use a refill soon anyway."

"Want to give me the when and where or should I?"

She was silent for a moment. "Metro Cafe, twenty minutes."

Before he could agree or disagree, she hung up on him. Oliver let out a chuckle as he ran a search on his laptop for directions.

He stared at the blip on the Metro Cafe. "Chloe Sullivan", he said, trying the name on for size. Not bad.

He was five minutes early, but that wasn't because he was nervous or anything. More like he was still new in the city, and didn't want to be late in case Chloe Sullivan decided to castrate him.

It was all self-preservation, really. He liked having certain body parts in one piece.

She walked in, cell phone in hand, scrolling through messages as she ordered a drink and spotted him.

She checked the time. "Prompt", she said, grabbing the cup of coffee and sitting down across from him. "Good. So, Ollie."

Nobody had called him Ollie since his parents died. "Oliver", he corrected.

"Ollie", she repeated. "So, what is it that you're trying to do, exactly? What's the end game?"

Were her eyes that green when he saw her last? Last time he saw her, she was scared because her hands were shaking. "How are you?" He asked

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You haven't told anybody else, have you?"

He knew the feeling. Sometimes, he flipped through the Daily Planet, hoping that he wouldn't find an article titled Metropolis Doctor tells all, or something along those lines. Even though Emil was his friend.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no."

"You have beautiful eyes", he couldn't help saying.

"You're good", she said. "My hands are fine. One time thing, I guess."

"Bad enough for you to find Dr. Hamilton, but that's not decaf, is it?" He asked before leaning forward. "And yes, I am good", he added with a smirk.

She took a sip. "I work for the Daily Planet. Late nights aren't exactly rare for me."

He nodded. "Like I said earlier, I understand busy."

"Really, that's the best you can do?" She asked.

"Well, the usual stuff probably won't work on you, will it?" He asked, letting out a chuckle. "But to make sure that you don't feel left out."

He withdrew a rose from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She took it and smelled it before studying him closely.

She stared at him for a good couple of silent minutes, making him feel like he was being observed under a microscope before she spoke. "Let's go."

"What?"

No way was it going to be that easy.

"Oh no, are we still doing the cutesy small-talk?" She asked sarcastically. "Want me to speed it up a bit? Now, I forget, Ollie."

"-Oliver", he corrected.

"Which part were we up to, Ollie? The innocent and nervous glancing part or the 'no I can't', 'yes you can' part?"

"I don't think that there's a particular routine."

"Oh, there is", she said. "And if we follow it exactly, it'll be, what? Months before you actually do me?"

God, he hoped not.

"What if I turned around and said that I was religious? Waiting for marriage? Make you want to just avoid me at all costs, wouldn't it?" she continued. "See, this isn't about getting to know one another or emotional intimacy. And it's not even about sex."

Wait a minute. Of course it was about sex. "It's not?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No, this is about having maybe an hour or two's release from the pain that is being you."

What on Earth was she talking about? It was great to be Oliver Queen. Thousands of women wanted him, and thousands of men wanted to be him.

"I wouldn't exactly say..."

"-No", she cut him off. "It is. Let's not lie to each other okay? It's boring. You want to know why it's okay with me? Because I want the same exact thing. So let's go."

They hailed a cab, and Oliver wanted to give the driver the address of the penthouse, but Chloe got to the guy first, handed him some sort of business card, and they were off.

He slid his credit card, and off they went, driving in silence.

Oliver was plenty confident, but he had never done it in a taxi before. He wasn't going to be that rude to the driver- at least in limos, there was some sort of barrier.

So even though he really wanted to started the whole thing right then and there, the most he could do was reach over to her leg and start moving his fingers in slow, circular motions, slowly travelling upwards. Just to keep his mind busy.

She shot him a look before her mouth turned up in a smirk. Her hand went right for the crotch of his pants, her fingers starting to rub up and down, his breath hitching as he felt himself get harder and harder.

She would probably see the stitches on his leg once they finally got wherever the hell they were heading, but he wasn't too concerned with that.

She continued to stroke him until the erection in his pants became almost unbearable. Until he wanted to just rip all of her clothes off and fuck her right in the cab, even if there was a cab driver in front of them.

And then she stopped. She took his hand away from her leg, placed it on his own, and sat there with her ankles crossed and her hands resting her lap.

They pulled over at some sort of Inn. Maybe the name was MacDougal? Something like that. He barely read the sign before they walked in. Chloe didn't even wait for the person at the front desk to show up. She walked over to the other side of the desk, grabbed a set of keys, signed something unreadable on the guest book, and headed upstairs.

Oliver followed her as she took her coat off, wanting to ask if she came here a lot, but before he could, the door was unlocked, and she shoved him inside just before slamming it shut. She dropped her coat and attacked him with her lips, unzipping his leather jacket before he could react.

He had been seducing women for years, and in all of that time, he had never been the submissive one. Not once. And if there was something that he wanted to do to her now, it was to show that he was the one in control here. He had no idea if he would ever see her again after today, but if he did, he didn't want to start a routine of getting in an argument, getting his family jewels kicked, and then having her walk away without another word.

He appreciated his body. He liked being able to support his body with one arm as he zip-lined across cities, and he liked being able to shoot an arrow and hit a target thousands of feet away.

But he appreciated his dick most of all. And he really wanted to be in control of Miss Sullivan right now. So even though Oliver really wanted to get her bra off and see those beautiful breasts again, to observe them with his mouth and hands rather than his eyes, he unbuttoned her jeans. He shoved her against the wall and dove his hand right inside, slipping past her panties, and tracing a finger along her wet folds as she let out a shiver.

She let out a moan as he took his index finger and drove it deep inside of her. He stuck his tongue inside of her mouth, muffling the sounds coming from his own mouth as he felt the digit instantly coating with her juices.

A leg wrapped around his waist and her body lifted up the wall as he inserted a second finger. He waited a couple of seconds so that her body could adjust before he started moving in and out of her easily when something strange suddenly happened. Her eyes flashed open widely. Chloe placed her hand on his wrist, withdrawing the hand he had buried in denim.

She removed her leg from his waist. "No foreplay", she muttered against his lips, adjusting her footing before she tilted her head down and focusing all of her attention on removing his belt buckle.

He wanted to ask why, since foreplay pretty much extended the process and from his experience, was sometimes better than the actual sex.

But then she slid down his pants and boxers at the same time. And for some reason, she wouldn't let him undress her- she just took off her own jeans and panties.

She was different from the rest of the women that he had slept with- a lot more guarded, even with it came to sex. If she was so uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping with him, then why did she bring him here?

He wondered if she wanted him to take her in bed or something. Be a gentleman and offer to carry her over bridal style or some sentimental shit like that instead of taking her right here and now against the wall.

He normally treated women the same way- have sex that sometimes doesn't make it to the bed, maybe a second time in the bed, fall asleep, and then leave the place before she woke up. But here he was in some hotel that he didn't recognize, and he was thinking about how to approach the woman in question.

His thoughts were interrupted as Chloe ripped off the buttons of his shirt, pulling the sleeves off of his arms. He barely had time to register what was happening before she threw herself on him, making sure that he couldn't catch her naked bottom half, and landing both of them on the floor.

She laughed to herself a little bit before placing one leg on each side of him, climbing on top of his erection and pushing him down before she started to ride him methodically. She was still taking over, and if Oliver wanted to steal any sense of control or power from him at all, it had to be done now.

He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her close to him, and rolled over so that he was on top. Her eyes widened at the action, but she hadn't protested. Good.

Oliver started pumping inside of her, letting out a moan as she became wetter with each thrust.

"More", she gasped, fingernails digging into his back.

He moaned, feeling the pain as he started to increase the speed of his thrusts. She moved with him, her eyes rolling to the back of her head before closing. He let out a smirk. Looked like she liked losing control after all.

"How does it feel to have me inside of you instead of kicking me?" He asked her, the words barely able to form a sentence.

"What?" She breathed

"See, you should really be nicer to me, Miss Sullivan", he continued, making her last name sound anything but formal as he started pounding into her, not even knowing himself how he managed to sound so controlled right now.

All he knew was that he was going to come any second. And if he wanted to truly live up to his reputation, she needed to climax first. He needed her to.

"It really pays off in the end", he said, as her walls started pulsating around his member.

"Yes!" She screamed.

He continued to ram in and out of her, deep groans escaping from his lips with every re-entrance, not even capable of words anymore as she kept screaming. "Yes! Oh, yes! Faster!"

"Chloe", he gasped for air. It was the most warning he could give her before his own orgasm erupted, almost blinding him to his surroundings. He felt complete and total pleasure washing over him as he exploded inside of her, trying to savor the feeling for as long as he could.

He stayed inside of her for a couple of seconds as he caught his breath before pulling out and rolling to the other side. He was a bit disappointed that her shirt was still on, but that didn't matter right now. All he needed was a couple of minutes to recharge, and her top would come right off.

Oliver heard her shallow breathing over his own before he tried to make a joke. "What's your favorite color, again?" he asked

She took a deep breath, and sat up, tossing him a smirk before pulling on her panties and jeans. She stood up, walked over to her jacket, and put that back on too.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He wasn't done yet. He wasn't done with her yet. If she thought that he was done after one time, she was crazy.

She reached for her purse, and started for the door. "See you around, Danny."

She opened the door, slammed it shut, and Oliver wanted to go after her when he realized that he was completely naked. He walked over to the window, and saw her step into the cab that took them here.

Women didn't forget his name. It just didn't happen. And they never left him behind.