Chapter 3

Five weeks.

I hadn't seen him for five weeks and it was wearing on me. As he suggested, I had written in that blasted journal he gave me—but most of the time the entries were just angry ramblings. I was angry and I raged on and on about the injustice of it all; Jimmy, Chloe, my separation from Clark, my loneliness. Oh how I raged.

I tore all those pages out and burned them. I didn't want to visit any of it again. It was all too, too painful--My emotions too raw laid bare on the pages for the entire world to see. I made quite a ritual of the destruction of the pages. I don't think I had ever done something quite so emotional or dramatic in my life. Maybe later I will regret it. Who knows? Who knows if any of it will matter much later?

It's funny to me now that I didn't realize it sooner. I should have seen the signs earlier, if I'd been paying attention. I should have been paying attention.

I had been so tired. After the nights I had spent waiting at the hospital, it seemed natural that I would be tired. And then there was the endless waiting in Washington; waiting to hear from Clark, waiting for word about Chloe, waiting for a change in Jimmy's' condition. In the weeks that followed it seemed the more I slept, the more tired I became.

I should have been alarmed when I saw the worried looks that Mrs. Kent gave me. Clark. Clark called me, worry evident in his voice. I still didn't know what to make of it. Was this just friendly concern, or was this something more?

That line of thinking had been tiring as well. I was the one that said no regrets. My words. Why were they now leaving a bitter taste on my tongue? Did I regret that night? The truth was that I had no clue what my feelings were. The only thing that I was certain about was that I was uncertain.

Clark was coming home.

Home.

They had found Chloe. She was in bad shape, but she would recover. Now that she was stable for transfer, Oliver had arranged for a med-evac to bring her to Star City where she would finish her convalesance. Clark was picking me up to take me to see her.

Everything could then start going back to normal again.

~*~*~

I dressed with care. I don't remember being this nervous about seeing a man in my life, but for some reason, it mattered very much to me how I looked for Clark. But, nothing seemed to fit right. All my blouses seemed too tight. How could I have gained this much weight? We had decided that it could be too dangerous for me to continue my daily running routine, but I didn't think I could have put on that much weight in just five weeks.

I finally settled on simple skirt and a blue tank top. It hugged my curves in such a way that it almost seemed scandalous. I decided to pair it with a button down blouse over it and left the top buttons undone, to camouflage the fact that the buttons pulled if fastened. It would have to do. There wasn't time to worry about changing. Clark was due to arrive any moment.

~*~*~

He arrived at the suite dressed in slacks, tie, and a sport coat. Not only was I underdressed for our date, I was unprepared. Had he always been this handsome?

He closed the distance between us in two long strides. He pulled me into a fierce embrace and swung me around before setting me down.

Had he always been this tall? How had I not noticed before?

He pulled back and looked into my eyes. He slid his hands over my hair and cupped my chin. His eyes seemed to sparkle.

"Were you always this beautiful?"

"Shut-up!"

"What? Can't I tell my girlfriend that I think she's beautiful?"

And then I lost my mind.

"Oh, so now I'm your girlfriend?" I pulled away from him angrily and began to pace, my heels pounding out a staccato against the tiles of the kitchen of the suite. "Just because you say so? You don't say a word about it all this time and then you're back for two seconds and you waltz in here and snap your fingers and just like that you expect me to come running and automatically fall into your arms like som—"

"Lois, I didn't snap my fingers."

"Hold on, mister! I've got the floor." I was jabbing him in the chest now.

"Lois, just calm down."

"You can't exp—"

He pulled me into his arms, crushing me to him. His lips were on mine before I could blink, effectively silencing my rant. He kissed me savagely, his mouth hungry and demanding. The scent of his skin assaulted my senses, the sharp tang of soap and aftershave made my nerve endings throb with a hunger that surprised me.

I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his. He cupped my face with his large hands as he devoured my mouth. His tongue was hot, and frenzied, its hunger matched only by the ferocity of his fingers as they slid to tangle in my hair.

He pulled back and looked at my face, his brows drawn in confusion. His thumb stretched to sweep across my cheekbone, just below my eye, and I was surprised to feel the wetness it trailed behind it. "I've handled this badly, just as I thought I would . . . but you must know . . . I never meant to hurt you. I . . . made you a promise, Lois, and there is nothing that could make me break it. Please, don't cry. Something inside me breaks when I think I might have caused you to cry."

My arms were around his neck at that, squeezing and holding him close, as if by letting him go, he'd disappear just as I'd thought he'd been planning. "I'm sorry," I blurted. "I just thought . . . and you were all . . . and you never said . . . it's been a really, really long, bad few weeks."

I felt him nod against my cheek. "Yes, I agree," Clark said. "Let's not talk of it? Let's jus--"

It was my turn to cut him off, my lips slid back to his to devour him in another kiss. Along the length of my body, I could feel him responding, hardening and lengthening inside his pants until the evidence of his desire pressed achingly against my hip, his hands falling from my face to curl with need into my waist. He did want me, that much was obvious, and the fear that I would be reliving what happened with Oliver quickly dissipated.

Muscle by muscle, sinew by sinew, my body relaxed into his, until by the time he pulled away from the kiss, I felt boneless, ready to be led wherever he might lead.

It was amazing.

Oh yeah, I'm his girlfriend.

"Lois, if you kiss me like that again, I won't be able to leave for another two hours."

"We could have a late dinner."

"You're the boss."

"And you'd better not forget it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

~*~

Somehow, we made our way onto the couch. I'm still not sure how it happened.

"Lois," he whispered against my skin, the single word floating up to break through the clouds that were forming inside my head.

"Clark . . .," but the firm pressure of his lips silenced me again, driving rational thought away and replacing it with sheer desire. My body thrummed in response to the sweep of his fingers across my skin.

I gasped aloud when his hands grazed over my breasts, my nipples instantly pebbling into rock-hard nubs when his fingers brushed them through the layers of clothing and the lacy fabric of my bra.

"No words tonight," I pleaded. "There's been far too much talk today, and right now, I need . . . I want to just forget everything else." His hand brushed back the hair from my brow, his gaze sweeping over my face as if he was trying to memorize every angle and curve.

I could feel that my lips were swollen from the fervor of our last kiss. I was rewarded with a small smile, and I pulled him even closer so that our chests were touching, my bottom resting in his lap. "Let's just say we've both had bummers of a day and let it go at that. No more words. Please?"

When his lips parted to speak, I lifted my fingers and lightly covered his mouth. "No more words," and leaned forward to kiss him softly.

My fingers entwined with the loose curls at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly at his skull, I almost giggled when it elicited an uncharacteristic growl from his throat.

Clark's hold tightened, and before I could stop him, he had pushed my skirt up and out of his way as his hand sought the cleft between my legs. I gasped as he pushed past my underwear to graze a single fingertip across my clit. I exhaled when that same finger coated itself in my wetness before slipping inside.

The urge to say his name was stifled by the return of his mouth and I joined him in deepening the kiss. Our tongues curled and explored around the other, the impulse for more, and more, and more, fending off any more doubts about what either of us wanted at that particular moment.

Clark's muscles quivered with anticipation, his skin hot as I pulled at the fabric that still covered his back. My only thought was to rid ourselves of the barriers that kept our bodies apart, and when he finally broke free of my mouth, I pushed him upright.

He didn't say a word, only watched as I set to undoing the buttons of his shirt. I slid my hands up beneath the tail of his shirt, kneading the muscles before I pushed the fabric up onto his shoulders. He broke apart from me just long enough to slide the offending garment off, his eyes never leaving my face. As soon as he'd tossed it behind me, his mouth returned to me, this time to nibble and taste at the hollow of my throat.

When my fingernails caught on his nipple, his eyes fluttered shut, his head dropping back as the sensations washed over him. I could see the pulse pounding in the sculpted hollow of his throat, and impulsively, I leaned forward to press my lips to him, sucking gently as his skin throbbed beneath my tongue.

His reaction was electric. With a jolt that jarred both of us, Clark latched onto my waist and pulled me down on top of him, his free hand releasing his erection from his trousers. I felt the slick tip of his cock nudge against my underwear, hard and hungry. When I broke from the kiss he'd once again initiated, I stared into his eyes as he sat up, hands disappearing beneath my clothes as they worked to strip the last obstacle between us. His hands slid up to cup my ass, grinding his cock against me roughly, and I moaned from the starburst of sensation that erupted like a psychedelic kaleidoscope inside my head.

His fingers tightened to an almost painful grip as he pulled me up again, the tip of his cock nudging between my slick folds. With one smooth motion, Clark pushed my hips back down, forcing me to take his full length in a single stroke, leaving both of us breathless and quivering as we stayed suspended for what seemed like forever.

I leaned in to kiss him again. Our tongues tangled in a slow weave, my fingers coiled in his raven locks to keep him close as I began riding him, up and down, in a steady tempo, using his body and his strength as leverage for every squeeze and pull. I felt like I was floating, my body felt buoyant and light, and every stroke filled me just a little bit deeper.

"Tell me." My voice was ragged, choking on my own need, as I looked at his face.

"Tell you what?" He asked softly, not once breaking our rhythm.

"Tell me that you think I'm beautiful."

"You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" he whispered huskily as his gaze swept slowly over me. "Or how much I want you?"

He captured my lips with his in a kiss that echoed my own need, his tongue tracing the camber of my mouth. His lips continued their ardent attack on my throat and breasts.

"Lois," he whispered reverently as he dropped tender kisses all over my cheeks, eyelids and throat. "Beautiful, beautiful Lois , . ." he whispered again and again. The timbre of his deep voice, affected me as profoundly as the things he was doing to me. His mouth found my breast, teasing the taut peak, then closing tightly around it, drawing hard until I was gasping, arching my back and clasping his head to my breasts as the first wave of an orgasm crested and broke over me.

Shivers of delight raced through my body. Despite the need I felt building, I responded to the need I heard in his throaty whispers. Clutching at him, my face buried against his corded neck, I felt as if my body were on fire, kindled and smoldering. Just when I thought I might ignite from within, desire surging through my veins like molten magma, Clark shifted us once again, driving his shaft deeper inside me still—deeper than I thought possible. His face was hard and dark with passion and I noticed a pulse throbbing in his temple as he fought to hold himself back.

Quick, piercing stabs of desire were jarring my body as I moved with him, mindlessly seeking the pinnacle. "Clark" my sultry whisper fueled his passion and he quickened his deep, insistent strokes. The pulsing deep in my body suddenly exploded in a wild cataclysm that racked my body with wave after wave of sensation. My spasms clasped him, clenching and pulling his engorged shaft. Clark's breathing was erratic, his heart thundering as he drove into me with deep, unrelenting strokes. Pushed to the brink of his control, his body quaking with is own need, he climaxed with a feral growl.

I collapsed against him overcome with the exertion of our lovemaking and overwrought with the emotions that had been wreaking havoc on me for weeks and silently wept.