He let her walk away. He just stood there, and he watched her walk away, while his heart bled, no ached intensely. The last time she had walked away from him, he remembered she had pretty much walked straight into Ray's arms. Talk about pain. In just a few weeks time, he had returned from Nanda Parbat to find them together, and he almost couldn't stand it.
NO. She so belonged to him.
His bitter anger choked him, hurt him, as she walked away from him, as she walked away from his proposal. It didn't matter that she had already said yes, that she had already agreed to marry him, for she had refused his ring. And he had to make himself, not chase after her and demand that she talk to him, make himself not grab her arm and spin her around to face him, for he was too angry, too far gone. He wanted to make her take his ring, to make her wear his ring.
Needed it.
But instead, he let her walk away. Let her go, for the last time he had followed her when she told him she needed some air, she had swiftly ripped him apart by telling him she didn't want to be a woman he loved. She had effectively cut his heart from his chest with her cruel words.
Ra's sword had been easier, for at least afterwards he had the blessing of being unconscious, where unlike then, when he had been awake for hours in agonizing pain after she had threw those hateful words at him.
No, he had followed her and her anger had lashed out at him, cutting him deeply, wounding him, and he would be damned, so damned, before he would go actively looking for that kind of hurt again.
Yes, Felicity's words could be as sharp as his arrows when she was angry. And from the look on her face, YES, she was upset and really angry at him.
Okay, he probably deserved her fury. She had pointedly warned him not to give her an expensive ring, and he had done exactly what she had told him not to do. Dig had tried to warn him, too. And yet, again, he hadn't heeded Dig's advice or done as she had sharply asked of him. No, he thought he knew what was right, what was best.
Well, how is that working out for you? He asked himself, while his shoulders slumped.
"Way to go, Oliver," he chided himself out loud. "You offer her a ring and she runs from you."
Carefully, pocketing the now dreaded ring, with a massive frown, he pulled her hair tie out of his pocket and sat down on the step and began to roll it between his fingers. He started concentrating on breathing in and out, as he using rolling the hair tie to soothe himself. His anger at himself was simmering just below the surface. He had misjudged her reaction to the ring, and he wanted, no, ached to hit something, to resort to what he knew helped control, helped contain his anger. He was so compelled, so ached to lash out, needed to feed the darkness that was vying for control right now.
The flash backs were trying to start. He could see her with Ray. The blue dress. The kiss. Breathe, he told himself. Ray is gone. She is yours. He could see the way she stood in Ray's space. He rolled her hair tie and tried to soothe the fiery, burning ache by breathing.
But his anger desperately wanted out of the place he had pushed it, out of the corner it was in. Like a living breathing thing, his anger was advancing inside him, and he suddenly had to clutch the porch step with his hands to stop himself, to hold on, for he needed to hit something and right now.
Why had he given her his word that he wouldn't beat up his hands? Punching something would feel so good right now. But his promise to her kept him from doing it, stopped him from punching the wood on the porch, so hard, and stopped him from erupting and punching the porch over and over, until the blood ran red from his knuckles. He so need to hit something, to release the anger. But she was already angry, so upset with him, and he wanted to break his word and ached to bloody his hands, for his rage at himself, for not listening to her was so intense it was clouding his judgement.
But he knew he needed to force the anger back and let go of the step. He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing, to focus on just his breathing. He made himself let go of the step, then with a hand that had a slight tremor, he rolled her hair tie and breathed. He told himself to give her some time to process, for that was what she liked to call it. Yes, she just needed to process, like she was a computer, though he thought some times that her brain worked like a computer, except when she was babbling. Then her brain seem to just work to amuse him, and a small smile lit his face.
Okay, he could be patient. He could push the anger down and control it, and he would wait her out. She was just angry, upset with him, something he understood, and he had surprised her with the ring. He had caused her to panic that was all. She would come back, and then, he could explain, talk her into the ring in his pocket.
And, tomorrow, he would buy himself a punching bag, or he would find somewhere to train. No, he would do both. It was past time.
No more of this passive living.
NO, he desperately needed to go back to training. Running, just wasn't cutting it. He needed, NO, he ached deep down to hit something hard, to push his muscles to the point of exhaustion. He missed his salmon ladder. He missed a way to rid himself of the excess energy that seemed to consume him sometimes. Times like right now, for he so needed the release. If he upped his protein intake, ate more often, maybe he could stave off the weight loss from the training and more of his muscle would return.
Yes, tomorrow, he would return to training, for he had a need that demanded to be fed. Yes, the darkness was still there and the darkness was hungry, so very hungry that it was trying to devour him. Yes, tomorrow he would find a way to train. But tonight, he could push the darkness down, tonight he could still collar the need. One more night, he told himself, just one more night.
And he knew that she would be back, and he would do a better job at giving her the ring. He would talk her into his ring. Yes, he would.
######OQ#####
Okay, she was freaking out, way past freaking out.
How dare he? She kicked the sand up into the air, scattering it to the wind in her fury.
The very nerve of the man. His ego was so large it was a wonder, they could be in the same room together. She growled out loud and said bitterly to the gulf of Mexico, "When I told him specificity, I didn't want an expensive ring, I REALLY FRACKING MEANT IT."
Had he thought she was joking?
How dare he offer her an over a carat solitaire emerald ring? The diamonds alone where worth more than her car.
The very nerve of the man.
She picked up a shell from the beach and flung it hard at the water.
But it did nothing to relieve her anger.
Didn't he ever listen to her? Hear what she said?
No way would she be responsible for a ring that was worth so much. No, she would lose it, or look down and that amazing emerald would be gone. No, way was she wearing it.
NO FRACKING WAY!
She didn't even like rings, and he brings her a huge rock like that. Thea must of sent it somehow with the motorcycle. The ring probably belonged to his mother. Well didn't that just take the cake?
She was pacing back and forth on the beach, almost beside herself.
"Oliver Queen you are an idiot," she said out loud, as she found herself fighting tears. She fisted her hands and thought, I am not going to cry about this. But oh, she was just so mad at him for not understanding, for not listening to her yet, AGAIN.
She ran her hands across her face in frustration.
Didn't he understand that she came from darn near poverty? Her mother was a cocktail waitress, for goodness sake. One, who had worked very hard to raise her on mainly tips after her father had abandoned them. And he didn't understand that her mother had used wealthy men, and she was embarrassed about it.
Sugar daddies, her mom had called them, joked about them.
And, yes, it embarrassed her.
After her, father had left, her mom had used men for their money. She ate their food, wore their trinkets, and some of them gave her very expensive pieces. Items, she had watched her mom later pawn, and walk away from after the affair was over, until the next man gave her a pretty piece of jewelry. And there was always a next man.
She had swore she would never be like her mother, letting someone buy her love, but no, she had to fall in love with him, a wealthy man. A man who thinks he has to save the world. A man who doesn't seem to hear a word she said.
Unlike her mom, she wanted better than to be some rich man's arm candy and that ring reminded of her mom hanging on some rich man's arm, hoping he would buy her a ring like that so she could pawn it later. No, she had promised herself she would do better than her mom, so she had went to college because she had wanted better.
But, attending MIT on a scholarship, she had struggled. Smart and determined, she had ate Ramon noodles because that was what she could afford. And she had worked part time to even do that, for her scholarship hadn't come with a meal plan or books. Oliver, didn't understand that she had really struggled to buy used books in college, and that ring would have paid for all her books and all her meals the entire time she was in school, and she had a masters, so that was a lot of books and Ramon noodles.
And life at MIT hadn't been the most wonderful either. She had been too young, and too smart, and had been the poor girl surround by all those spoiled rich kids. She was sure if Oliver Queen had met her at MIT, he would have never given her a second glance. No, she had been surrounded by kids, who didn't how to live pay check to pay check. Rich kids, who's mother hadn't have to whatever it took to raise her, even if it meant sleeping with rich men to help pay the light bill or the rent.
Those had been the worst years of her life. And in reality, Oliver was one of those spoiled rich kids, who had nothing in common with her, who had teased her, who had pulled pranks on her, and who had made sure she knew she didn't fit in with them. No, these rich kids didn't understand how she had been raised.
Oliver didn't understand how she had been raised because she was sadly ashamed of her mother. Her mother, even though she loved her, embarrassed her, so she just didn't talk about her. She couldn't talk to Oliver about her childhood.
And those years at MIT had been lean, but she had been focused. Perhaps not always on the right things, since she had been a hacktivist by her senior year, but still she was past intense about not spending her life being poor, about not being like her mother and depending on wealthy men and her looks to pay the bills. And, yes, she had some money in the bank now, thanks first to Oliver because even it she had hated being his executive assistant, it had paid well, and she knew how to live cheaply.
And that was another thing. With a rock like the one in that ring, the tabloids would have a field day. They were already going to say, were probably already saying that she had slept her way to the top, that she was a gold digger. She knew everyone that had worked at Queen Consolidated and then Palmer Industries were positive she had gotten those top positions, using her body not brains.
Even it it wasn't true.
People had thought it and said it, and when the news hit that Oliver and she were going to marry, or that they were married, people were going to say it repeatedly. She was going to be the little gold digger that married the rich man.
And YES, it bothered her. She kicked the sand again.
For unlike her mother, she was good with her money, and she had made some wise investments. And thanks to Ray and the job she had just quit, to be with a man that was doing his level best to make her insane, she had a pretty good nest egg. Enough that she wasn't worried about making her house payment for a long time. And it was a fracking shame that she was so addicted to Oliver Queen, because her and Ray could have been an item, but she couldn't seem to give Oliver up. No, heaven help her Oliver's scent just overpowered her senses, Ray never fired her blood the way Oliver did, sex had been nice but not the burning inferno that having sex with Oliver was.
And, it seemed that no matter what he did to hurt her, there was no getting away from the fact he was the one for her. Some days she really wished she could find that stop loving Oliver button. It would make life so much easier.
But his wealth was a major problem for her. And what money she had was nothing, seriously NOTHING, compared to what he had, to how he had been raised. The idiot considered himself broke since he was just probably a millionaire.
She bit her lip, knowing that they had came from two totally different worlds. And that fracking ring proved it to her without a shadow of a doubt. What was she even thinking when she agreed to marry him? He was out of her league.
How could she even think she belonged in his world? She turned and looked at the small house they were sharing and thought, "Here I can do, but can I really live in his world?"
Panic engulfed her.
What happened when they went back to Starling? Could she take the camera's flashing, the cell phones snapping pictures everywhere they went? The lack of privacy? Where would they live? She couldn't see him moving into her small house, and she wouldn't be comfortable living in Thea's loft.
Maybe this could never work? Okay, right now, they were playing house, but what happened when they returned to real life? What happened when he went back to hunting bad guys? And she knew he was struggling not to be violent. A part of him must really be aching to be violent. It was in his nature now. He had returned from the island with something inside him that needed the violence. That part of him she understood, but the rich part?
No, and that huge stone he was trying to put on her hand, was solid sparkling evidence, that their two worlds really did not overlap. NO, that ring wasn't like Ray's diamond necklace that was on loan. NO, taking that ring was agreeing to his rich world forever and that was just too much for her. She had told him no expensive rings, and she would not start their life together by allowing him to just run over the top of her, to do what he wanted, to wear a ring that would always be uncomfortable on her hand. He had to listen to her, or they would be divorced before they were ever married.
He was just too fracking much! The nerve of that man.
She was so darn mad at him that she turned on her heel and and walked back to the house. He was sitting on the top step, plainly waiting for her in the dark. She knew the instant he was aware of her, for it showed in his body language and even in the dark, she could see the way his eyes swept her form gauging her body language, and he breathed in a deep breath before he said quietly,"Another bad choice, huh?"
"You darn right it was." And she marched straight past him and tried the door, only to find it still locked. She realized he had not left the porch but had just waited for her to return before she said, "Give me the key."
Silently, he stood and unlocked the door, swinging it open for her.
Sweeping past him, she walked into the house, and she tried to slam the door behind her, but he was on her heels and caught it, with the words, "Felicity, I want to talk about this."
Spinning on her heel, she pointed a finger at him and said, "No, you don't! What you want your is own way, as usual. You are not going to bully me, Oliver. That ring was a terrible choice. I told you, Oliver." Her voice was rising,"I, so, told you, warned you. Why would you just ignore what I told you? Oh, I know, because you are Oliver Queen."
He took a step forward, and he was right there in her space, but she didn't back down. No, if anything, she lifted her chin and stared him down.
And this time his words were sharp. "Because my grandmother's ring is so us. And how could you do that to me, Felicity? You know how hard this is for me. I asked you to marry me and you walk away from me. Are you purposely trying to hurt me? Do you want me in pain?"
And she almost smiled because he was learning how to argue with her, how to state his feelings. A vast improvement from the emotional empty wasteland he was when he returned from Ra's. Then she said, "Maybe, I do since, you're doing such a great job of hurting me, Oliver. I asked you not to do something and what do you do? Exactly what you want. You just ignore me and offer me a ring that costs almost more than my car did new."
"It's not about money."
"Yes, it is for me."
Her voice was intense. "Oliver, you come from money and I don't. And that ring proves it and right now the only point in that's ring's favor is that it didn't belong to your mother."
He sighed and then said, "Felicity, even I am not that stupid on my worse day. I would never ever think about giving you a ring that belonged to my mother. I haven't forgotten that you and my mother were hardly on good terms."
She invaded, so invaded his personal space as she hissed the words, "Hardly on good terms. She hated me, Oliver, and she was very clear that I wasn't good enough for you. She tried to convince me that you would hate me if I didn't keep her secret."
"My mother was hard to love some times."
"Don't make excuses for her. She looked down her nose at me, looked at me like I was insignificant. And she was very angry that I told you about Thea belonging to Merilyn. I don't think she would be very pleased that we are together now."
They were toe to toe now, when he said with heat, "I wouldn't have cared if she would have been pleased or not. You are my choice. You are what I want. And I would have chose you even if she was still alive." He pulled the ring from his pocket and said, "And this is my grandmother's ring. My father's mother's ring. The one my grandfather gave her for their thirty sixth wedding anniversary. The last ring he ever gave her, since he died right after that."
She couldn't stop herself, even angry at him, he looked so sad, that she wanted to console him, so she reached and put her hand on his chest before she ask quietly,"And what did he die of, Oliver?"
He frowned deeply, and she caught his eyes, and he truly hesitated before he said softly, "A massive heart attack. He died suddenly. Here one day and gone the next. I barely remember him." He sighed deeply before he said, "Well, that really helps my case, doesn't it?" And the look on his face was priceless.
She gave him a frown and shook her head before she said, "No, not since heart disease is hereditary. But I will give you a point for not lying about it. Unlike back at the restaurant when you lied about what you were thinking about."
"You're right. I was thinking about giving you the ring. How to do it right. I wanted it to be perfect." His voice fell and became husky before he said, "And I totally messed up from your reaction."
His sadness seemed to radiate from him, and she moved closer to him. Oh, what was it about him that just drew her to him? It wouldn't be long and she would be laying her head on his chest. He just drew her in like a moth to the flame. And it was so exhausting being angry with him, especially when he was trying to be sweet, when he was using his charm, and being very careful to tell her the truth.
She loved it when he was truthful with her.
And no, Oliver was not dumb, he knew how to charm her.
And she was so falling for it.
"I'm sorry I upset you," he said softly, and she let him pull her toward the couch, and didn't resist him, even, as he pulled her down to settle on his lap, even though she knew he was being playboy Oliver, charming Oliver.
Her anger was still there, but she didn't fight him. No, she let him gather her to him, let him pull her into that special connection they had together, before he said, "My grandmother died years later. I was eleven and she always wore this ring."
He showed it to her, held it up and spun it in the light. And yes, it sparkled, even in low light.
"I liked the way it sparkled, when I sat on her lap, and as the years passed, she would talk about my how my grandfather said the emerald was for my grandmother's green eyes and the diamonds where her smile that lit up his life. I missed my grandmother when she died, Felicity. She was always very loving to me, spoiled me."
"I have a feeling everyone spoiled you. But did your mother like her?"
He sighed and said, "No, my mother never liked her either. Maybe, you remind me of her."
"Another point in your favor. And you are so playing the sentimental card here."
"Are you keeping score? And is it working?" He asked as he palmed the ring and nuzzled her neck and instantly desire shot to her core.
She pushed away from him, with the words, "Stop it, Oliver. And no, I'm still really mad at you. I warned you to not get me an expensive ring, and you went right on and did what you wanted. What is it with you thinking that your opinion is the only one that matters? So, though I love your mouth, you are not distracting me with your mouth. I know your moves, your playboy moves, and they are so not going to work."
But his fingers moved to her neck and shoulders and started to rub softly, as he said, "So, now, I am the emerald, the green, just like my hood, and you are my light, the diamonds. Felicity. You need to understand that your light has saved what pitiful bit is left of my soul."
"I have not, Oliver. You are just trying to get your way. You chose that ring and you want me to take it and you are using your charming self to try and get your own way. Let's go back to I know you. And I don't understand how you don't know me well enough to know this is not the ring for me?"
"Believe what you want, I know the truth and but I know I need you, Felicity. And I need to show the world that you belong to me. Please wear my ring, Felicity." He placed a kiss at the base of her throat, and she wanted to purr for him.
But the panic hit her again, because she was wavering. He was using his mouth and his words to get his way, and she would regret letting him talk her into the ring, so she pushed him away with the words. "I can't, Oliver. Your ring is too much, too expensive for every day. Don't you understand? I was raised poor, Oliver."
This time it was her time to look away from him, as she forced herself to say, "I'm embarrassed to take you to my mother's apartment, not condo, Oliver, apartment. A walk up most likely. My mother has never been good with money, and I was raised with an eviction notice hanging on the door, most months. You wouldn't believe how many times we moved when I was a child. How many times we moved in the middle of the night because she didn't pay the rent. How many times we slept on other peoples' couches and in spare rooms until she could scrape up the rent and deposit again. Why do you think I BOUGHT a house, Oliver. I am not even thirty, and I bought a house."
"I guess I never thought about it." His voice was quiet, wary.
"It was because I finally wanted a home of my own. I didn't want to move anymore. Oliver, I didn't come from money like you did. I went to MIT on a scholarship, and you wouldn't have even looked at me at MIT."
"Yes, I would have."
"No, you wouldn't have. I was the poor girl. You would have avoided me like the rest of the rich kids. And, that ring, Oliver. If I would have had the cost of that ring when I went to school. Never mind. I don't even like rings and you want me to wear a ring that I figure is worth more than ten grand. It's not happening, ever."
And he just tilted his head and gave her those puppy dog eyes of his.
"Stop looking at me that way because I mean it. With my luck, I would I lose it. I would look down and that emerald would be long gone, poof, or someone would steal it. Or, I would leave it on a sink somewhere after I washed my hands. I would be in a constant panic over that ring. You don't know how many earrings I have lost? Do you?"
"Then I'll insure it and they will replace it if you lose it."
He tried to drop the ring in her hand and she closed her palm and shook her head.
"Oliver, be reasonable, insurance can't replace your GRANDMOTHER'S ring. It's a family heirloom. No, I can't do this. I don't want the responsibly. Just put it back in the vault, I know it must of came out of. Return it to all those other pieces of jewelry that your family probably owns. I don't want it. It makes me too nervous. I'm not saying I don't want you, Oliver. I would wear your ring but that ring is just too much."
"I don't own any jewelry except this piece. Thea rescued it for me because she knew it was special to me."
"Now you're using guilt to get your way? Truly, Oliver, I'm going to subtract a point."
"Again, is it working?" That charming grin again.
"No. Process it, Oliver, your ring is freaking me out. I am not going to babysit it for the rest of my life, not going to know I have the cost of 1/4 of a semester of college at MLT sitting on my finger at all times. I can't handle it. I don't think I could breathe with that ring on my finger."
"You would get used to it, trust me."
"No, what it would do is just remind me with how different our worlds are. Oliver, have you seen my house? I've seen where you grew up. We don't compare, and I'm beginning to think maybe we should rethink this whole getting married thing. Stop this relationship right now. You're not hearing a single word I'm saying anyway. And if you can't hear me, then we don't have a chance of making this work."
"NO! You are mine," and she could hear the panic in his voice as he continued, "Don't ever talk like that, ever. My home? It wasn't a home, Felicity, it was a very large, well decorated, mausoleum, and I'm not really sorry it's gone. I have been more at home with you here in this tiny house then I ever was there. I would be happy to stay right here for the rest of my life. But please, you are mine, and I need you to wear my ring. I have never given a ring to anyone. Never asked someone to commit to me. Please wear my ring, Felicity."
"Why won't you understand that I was raised by a cocktail waitress. I am struggling here, Oliver. I've never owned a piece of jewelry worth a grand let along ten grand. So, maybe I don't know how to live in that price range? And if you are going to keep pushing this ring, then, really you should consider someone else to marry you. Someone that was raised like you where with wealth."
"Are you trying to hurt me?" He looked stricken. "Now you are pulling away, running from us. I'm sorry I scared you with the ring. I never meant to make you unhappy, to make you feel bad. I know I'm damaged."
"Stop. No, it not that you're damaged. It's not that you have PTSD. It's that you're RICH, Oliver. Your lifestyle scares me, and I don't mean the Arrow side of it. I mean the RICH side of it. Your ease with wealth because you have lived most of your life with it. And I just think maybe we should rethink this, Oliver. I mean, we are hardly in the same tax bracket, and you wanting me to wear that ring proves it without a shadow of a doubt."
"NO, don't you ever say that again, don't even think it. I've had years to rethink this, to rethink, us. I have spent years stepping toward you and then panicking and taking two steps back and running from you. I can't run anymore. Life is too short. I want to marry you, to be with you. So stop overthinking, Felicity. Dig says I overthink and he's right, I do. And right now you're overthinking."
His voice lowered and he touched her face and caught her eyes as he said, "Look we were just raised differently. I don't care how you were raised. I just love the person you have become, whatever it took to get you to now. I have been both you know? Very rich and very poor. I have been really homeless and alone. And neither one of them made me happy. You so make me happy."
His thumb feathered her cheek, as he said, "And I just know that I don't want to be alone any more and you complete me. You ground me. And I love you. And I do understand. I hear you. Okay, I get it. So, come on, Felicity," he removed his hand from her face and set her on her feet.
"Huh? Where are we going? I mean it's getting late."
"Trust me?" He said solemnly.
"It's hard to some days, but, yes," she said, and she did. It was so stupid on her part, but she did trust him.
"Come on, you'll see," he said, as he pulled her out the door, locking it behind her. Dragging her to the bike, he handed her her helmet, and he was back to wearing his goofy grin again, so she put the helmet on and when he climbed on, she climbed on behind him and wrapped herself around him and it felt so good, so right.
He hit the starter and headed back toward town, and she breathed in the crisp night air and wrapped herself tighter around him, as they roared down the highway. And yes, riding the bike was exhilarating, past exhilarating. She could see how he could like this. She could see that she could learn to like this. It seemed she liked adrenaline too.
The lights of the super store loomed in the distance, and she wondered what he was thinking.
Ice cream, maybe? She could do ice cream.
Pulling into the parking lot, he dismounted, and she pulled the helmet off and tipped her head at him with a question in her eyes. But he just smiled and offered her his hand. She took it and together they walked into the store, and he pulled her behind him until they reached the jewelry counter.
The one with the rings.
And he said, with a charming, smug smile, "I am thinking one of these would be more us. Maybe, we could pick one together. Decide together. So, you show me the one that YOU like. And we will find a ring that fits both of us."
And her face lit, for she knew, that he finally understood that, although his grandmother's ring was precious, so precious, and so beautiful, she would never be comfortable wearing it every day. Oh, she could maybe wear it for an evening, or for an anniversary, a special date, but, NO, not for every day, not for forever.
NO, it wasn't the ring for them. It didn't represent their love. It was much too much, and he finally understood that she didn't need or want an expensive emerald.
"Thank you," she said softly.
And he waved the clerk back with his hand as he said, "Give us a minute." Then he ask, "For what?" as he stepped into her personal space.
"For understanding that maybe I need zirconia, not diamonds. Maybe, I need paste, or maybe a cheap vintage but a ring that if I lost it, forgot it, left it, someone stole it, it would still be okay. Yes, I would be sad."
And he finished her sentence for her as he said, "But you wouldn't be devastated and guilty that you had lost MY grandmother's ring."
She truly smiled up at him before she said, "Yes, and I'm going to lose this ring probably. I'm not joking about all the earrings I lose. Why do you think I have new ones all the time? I'm not perfect, Oliver. I'm not good at everything, and I'm not even going to ask you to wear a ring, Oliver, well maybe when we go out in public. I get that you want to mark my hand, to mark claim and I do too, but even though our love scares us and it doesn't just reside in a ring, no, it lives in their hearts."
He lay his large hand over hers on the glass case, while he said, "You should write that down. I would use it for my wedding vows," and he motioned for the clerk.
#####OQ#####
Her love for him expanded and filled her, as he patiently waited for her to finally pick a solid 14K yellow gold ring that held a green created-emerald, with white sapphires. A a total gem weight of 1.60. He smiled his very goofy grin, one just like he had smiled at her long ago, when they had stood on the beach after locking Slade away, and she had described them together as unthinkable. And he nodded when she slipped the on her finger, and he said, "It is perfect." Then he kissed her soundly after he paid a mere $539.99 dollars plus tax for her ring.
The cashier was smiling, as she asked, "Do you want to wear the ring or do you want me to put it in a box?"
"Box," he said before she could say a word and he smiled at her, tipped his head, and reached for her hand.
Walking back to the bike, under the moonlight and the lights of the parking lot, he pulled the ring box from his pocket. Then he lifted her and sat her on the bike seat, as he stepped between her legs, straight into her personal space.
She got that there would be no running from him this time, and she reached and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in closer.
Cracking the ring box, he swallowed and looking straight into her eyes, with his piercing blue eyes, he said, as he held up two fingers, "Take two."
Then, he schooled his face, smiled his most charming grin at her and said, "Felicity Meghan Smoak, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
She laughed a small laugh, then she schooled her face and said solemnly, "Yes, I will, Oliver Jonas Queen."
Slowly, he slipped the ring they had chosen together on her finger, then he said, "Good. And now since we had a fight, we have to kiss and make up." There was that sly grin he gave her.
Oh, how he was learning.
And then, he leaned down and so kissed her, kissed her senseless in the dark on a bike in a parking lot, and she was enthralled with him and her new ring.
And he made her so hot for him.
So, when he broke the kiss, she said breathlessly, "Let's go home, Oliver. I have plans for you."
And they got back on the bike and headed home.
#####OQ#####
He really thought he could make it home. He told himself he could wait.
He honestly did, but NO his greed couldn't wait. He had to have her.
And NOW.
His greed overpowered him.
AND, no, he couldn't stop himself. No, he couldn't control himself. Not any more. Earlier, he had noted a small pull off, and he pulled the bike in. And before she knew what had happened, he had shut the bike off, dropped the kick stand, and pulled off his helmet off and threw it on the ground. Giving her no time to protest, he reached and lifted her and positioned her in front of him on the bike. He needed her to know how much he need her.
His hands made quick work of her helmet, dropping it forgotten to the ground. Nothing mattered anymore but her, as his mouth crashed repeatedly onto hers.
Over and over, his lips devoured hers.
Tasting, nipping, so wanting her, feeding his need, and she gave as good as he gave.
He was flying, soaring inside. He couldn't even try to stop himself. He didn't want to stop himself. NO, he didn't.
Couldn't stop anymore.
He was riding an adrenaline high, and he needed release, now. NO, NOT LATER. NOW! He need her and right the F. . .ING NOW.
It would be tricky but, he was going to have her on the bike and that was all there was to it. There would be no more waiting.
He couldn't stand it.
Her mouth, her body were pure sensation, driving him, pushing him. His mouth was moving against her skin. As he reached the the nape of her neck, he sucked, no, he bit, and, he no doubt marked her, because he couldn't hold back any more. NO, he was past needing her, so past needing her.
Lost, so lost in her scent, her skin, her taste, as she wrapped her entire body around him, surrounded him. Yes, she engulfed him with more sensation then he ever deserved, so past what he deserved that his brain short circuited. No control now, he could no longer could control his breathing, his actions, nothing. No, his control had checked out, totally deserted him. He wasn't in control. No, not now.
Oh, YES, she was killing him. Slowing, so slowly killing him and he was throbbing with need.
He couldn't take much more. He was going to explode.
Her very hot hands were probing under his shirt, pulling his shirt up, her mouth was moving across his chest, feeding from him with her hot mouth.
Oh, YES, touch him there. Please there.
And her hands. Her hand would be the death of him.
How did she do that to him? He could feel the ring against his skin and the smooth metal scorched him, pushed him over the edge.
Someone needed to help him because he was past lost.
"Help me," he told her desperately, as her hands went to his belt, his pants, his boxers, pulling him free, letting him bouncing his dick free in the cold air. And it was wonderful. Past wonderful.
Yes, so yes. He needed her so badly, past badly.
He needed to take her right now. Right very now.
"Oh, yes, Oliver, hurry, do it now. I so need you, Oliver. Now!" she urged him, as she moved her mouth, moved to find his hot skin.
Oh, how she set him on fire for him. It was so close to being too much for him. He was losing it.
And it was a struggle to hold the bike, but he braced his legs. It was a real struggle to help her rid herself of her pants and panties, throwing them to the ground, but together groaning, gasping they managed. Then lifted her, so lifted her, as she quickly impaled herself on him, with a deep groan that was past sexy, and he groaned with her.
Yes, he was lost, racing forward with her, and there was no foreplay, no lasting, no waiting, just her skin and his. Just so hard and quick, so hard and so quick that it almost over powered, couldn't even make it last. He could barely do it at all.
His blood was racing past anything he had ever known, and she was screaming his name, milking him, so milking him, pulling her to him, as he let lose with a roar, his head thrown back, his eyes shut, as he rode out the last precious seconds of her possession of him, she so possessed him, and he loved it as he rode out their togetherness, and rode out the closeness he had only felt with her, with only her.
Yes, only her had possessed him like that, and he still managed to keep the bike up and not drop her and him to the ground. But it was hard.
"Better?" She said smugly, breathlessly, as she smoothly laid out against his chest, and he pulled her closer, so close. He so needed this, so needed her.
She was his one, the very one.
How did she do this to him? He would never understand. But she did it to him. She pulled him so close. Only she took him so high, past everything, yes, everything he had ever experienced.
Yet, he could hear her struggling, still hear her struggling to breathe.
And, he just rubbed her back, just touched her as he waited for the breathing fit to pass, as he tried to soothe her.
Now he knew that she would recover soon, that this was normal for them now. So, normal. He would hold her close, as she fought to breathe, and he would soothed her and wait for her breathing fit to be over.
He knew now that he would steal her breathe after sex, and she would figure out how to breathe her way back to him. He knew this, and he would help her come back to him. He needed her to come back to him.
Trying to soothe her, he rubbed her back as he said, "Shh, don't try to talk, yet, you know it makes it harder on you. And, yes, so I'm much better, now. I needed you, desperately, and I love you so much, and I just hope I can drive the rest of the way home."
"Oliver?" Her voice was intense.
"I'm joking, Felicity."
"Not funny, Oliver." She said breathlessly, as she pushed off his chest, her legs still wrapped around his waist. "Maybe you should give up your attempts at humor."
And he laughed. He truly laughed as he pulled her back to him, as he absorbed her, and it felt so right.
He heard the car motor just before he saw the red lights turn on and the car turned in. Whipping his jacket off, he covered her bareness, not willing to share her with anyone. No, she was totally his, and he gave thanks that he hadn't managed in his haste to take her shirt off, her bra off, that he hadn't shown all of her.
She whispered the words, "We are so busted," as she burrowed her head into his chest, and he could swear she giggled, knowing that he was still buried deep within her.
However, he wasn't smiling now, as the door on the cop car opened, and he saw the cop from the ER in the light from the car's dome light.
Jeff, he remembered his name. The cop that had let the high kid get his gun.
The cop he had no doubt embarrassed, with his ease of taking that high kid out.
Well now he had been caught with not just his pants down, but, for sure, Felicity's pants down, since they were laying on the ground beside the bike.
And, no, this was not going to be good, and he hoped they weren't about to go to jail. He sighed for at least he knew a judge.
"Hey, Jeff," he said.
#####
Thoughts? Reviews? Thanks for the read.
Until next time, hope they don't go to jail. Well, at least if they do, they know a judge. LOL