Well, this is embarrassing...hi, guys! *waves* I know it's been FOREVER, but I have my reasons. 1) I went away on break and I had no computer, 2) I had a lot to catch up on after my surgery, 3) In case you didn't know, I had surgery. I still love you guys! I haven't forgotten about you. Good news are: I'm okay, I'M GOING TO SEE ONE DIRECTION IN CONCERT, I'm going to go visit my friend PinkGoesWithEverything for four weeks in the summer, and life is pretty good. :D Thanks to maxwaylandgrey for beta'ing this. :) Thanks to all of you that have reviewed and alerted/favorited this, you guys are amazing! Be sure to leave a review! xxx
When Clary woke up the next morning, she was, for a minute, unaware of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the most shockingly obvious one: she was naked under the sheets. She began to panic, but then willed herself to calm down and figure out where she was. She started examining the room carefully. The room was all white, the drawers were wooden, and there was a body next to her―she felt the heat of it, warming her up even more than she needed, but for some reason, it didn't bother her.
Then it hit her.
She'd done it. It. With Jace.
Good god.
She tiptoed out of the bed and into the bathroom. She didn't feel any different, because it wasn't her first time. She'd done it twice with Sebastian before their devastating breakup. Her flaming red hair was messy, her face was red, her eyes were shining, and she realized that she was naked in the bathroom with the door open. Her cheeks grew hot.
Suddenly, a figure joined her inside the bathroom. It was Jace, who was, as a matter of fact, also naked. He wrapped his around her bare waist, her skin tingling the moment they touched.
"Hi," Clary said, twisting her neck so she could plant a kiss on his lips.
"Hi." Jace nibbled on her neck, and she felt herself immediately wanting more, more of what they did last night, more of that for every night.
"Jace," she said, but it came out as a moan. She turned her body so they were facing each other. "Jace, stop." Clary giggled as he lifted her so that she was sitting on the sink and her bare legs were wrapped around his waist.
"Why?" he said, voice husky as he kissed her lips roughly.
"I have to go home," Clary said half-heartedly.
"Like hell you do." He carried her bridal style into the bed and placed himself on top of her. "We can do this the easy way, or we could do this the hard way."
"Jace." She sighed. "Fine, but . . . I have to be home in an hour."
He grinned. "I can deal with that."
###
"Isabelle," Simon said, trying to reason with her. "I am not going to a party."
She sighed. "It isn't a party, Si, and you know the place. You confirmed it."
"I only barely know it," he said, attempting to defend himself, but it was only halfhearted. Isabelle was the kind of girl that couldn't be fooled by a boy, much less Simon. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair as she placed a hand ever-so-gently on her hip. She cocked her head, waiting for him to give in.
"Come on, Simon. We all know you can't resist forever," she taunted, grinning.
He scowled at her. "I'll go if Clary and Jace come."
Izzy clapped her hands in delight. "Perfect! I'll ask Alec and Magnus, too."
"Great," Simon mumbled, but she didn't hear. She was busy making phone calls. He sighed and plopped down on the couch of Clary's house. They'd both spent the night in the house (in separate rooms, because they wanted to take things slow), covering for Jace and Clary. She'd called Izzy in the evening, begging her to stay over there, because she was spending the night with Jace.
"I want details!" Isabelle had said. She had Clary on speaker, and Simon grinned, knowing his best friend was probably rolling her eyes at Izzy's inquiring ways.
"Fine, fine. I have to go. Bye," Clary said, and then she hung up, leaving a very excited Izzy and a very disgusted Simon staring at the phone.
They'd watched movies all night long, his version of a date. She figured it was better to make him choose what they did that night, because, well, she had plans on her own for the next evening. The Pandemonium Club. It was originally a club in New York, but it had become a franchise sometime in the past two years, when she was away from her home city. So she decided it was time to "go back home," relatively speaking. She knew Simon would agree, but that he'd be as reluctant as ever. Simon was sure that this whole planning this had happened even before Clary had told them about her spending the night over at Jace's house. It didn't thrill him too much, but he had to live with it. Clary―she'd already lost her virginity. Simon knew that. Simon consoled her after they broke up, when she called him sobbing at two in the morning because she couldn't sleep and she couldn't do it and she couldn't fall in love again. But then Jace had come, two years later, and swept her off her feet. Her promises? Yeah, they went down the drain, along with her carefulness.
In a way, Simon was glad that the old Clary was back, one that wasn't afraid of living and exploring the world, but at the same time, he was hesitant. What if Jace broke her heart? What then? What would happen to her? Simon knew her enough to know that she wouldn't be able to go through it again.
"Clary and Jace agreed," Isabelle said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Magnus is totally into the idea, but Alec, careful as ever, is considering it." She rolled her eyes. Simon loved it when she was happy, but tried to act annoyed. He kissed her nose.
"I'm glad it's all turned out as you planned it," Simon said, not quite meaning it, but a smile lit up her face and he knew that what he said was enough.
"I know you don't mean it," Izzy said slowly, "so don't try to fool me. But thank you. Thanks for, like, not hating me." She laughed. Simon knew how much it took her to say that, so he pulled her close and let her rest her head against his chest, and he didn't want to be slow, he wanted to be fast, but he couldn't be, so he let her head rest against is chest and made no other move.
"Thanks, Izzy, for not hating me."
"Why would I hate you?" she asked incredulously, peering up at him.
He stroked her arm absently. "I was an asshole to you. I do know that. It was the truth, what I said, and I'll never regret it, but I could've been nicer about the whole damn thing."
"You're the sweetest guy I've ever known, Simon Lewis, and I could never hate you."
"Don't speak to soon," he joked.
She kissed him. "I'd never."
###
Clary examined her clothes in the mirror. They were what Izzy would approve of, she guessed, and she wanted to please her friend. Her only reason was that Isabelle would most likely make her change her outfit twenty freaking times if she didn't like it. So she made sure she was wearing something Izzy would love―except heels. Clary hated high heels. She wore a dangerously short skirt, a tank top, some fishnet tights underneath the extremely short skirt, and combat boots. She wore a little bit of makeup. Dark red lipstick, dark eye shadow, mascara, and eyeliner. Somehow, she managed not to look like a total crazy Goth girl. She managed to look good. Her outfit and makeup were highly praised by Izzy.
"You look better than I do," she said to Clary. "It's got to be the sex."
"Oh god," Clary said. "Here we go."
Isabelle ignored her. "How was it? I mean, he's my brother, so it's kind of weird, but still. Tell me! Did you like it? Was it rough? How many rounds?"
Clary shot her a death glare. "It was good, I liked it very much, a few rounds were rough, and about six rounds, four at night and two before I got home. Happy?"
Her friend's mouth hung open. "Um, okay, wow. I'm never asking you about your sex life."
"Thank you."
"So," Isabelle said. "Do you like my outfit?"
It was sexier than Clary's by far. Her skirt was impossibly short, she wore fishnet tights, a tight red V-neck shirt that showed off her boobs, and high heels. Hooker heels. Clary shook her head and let out a laugh.
"It's slutty," Clary said, bursting into laughter once again. "I like it."
Izzy scowled. "I should change the skirt."
"Keep it," she replied. "Look, if you're worried about Si, don't be. He's smitten by you, always has been. He likes you for who you are."
"Fine," Izzy grumbled. Then she sighed, flopped down on Clary's bed, and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm horny."
Clary's eyebrows rose. "Are you not getting any from Lewis?"
"Nope," she said. "It's not that I hate slow―I like slow―but it's just . . . I want fast, too. I want him." Her voice dripped with desire and want. Clary fought back a grin.
"It's good he hasn't tried to get in your pants. It shows he really does like you," Clary said, trying to soothe her friend. But good god, Isabelle was inconsolable. She looked ready to screw any guy.
"Yeah, yeah." Isabelle didn't deny Clary's words. She was annoyed with them, but Clary could tell she believed them.
"Hey, Izzy? Don't do anything stupid tonight. Simon can be . . . stupid," she said, after struggling to find the right adjective. Stupid seemed to describe everything. "But he's loyal, and he's a great guy. So don't fuck it up. Don't cheat, don't try to get in bed with him . . . stick to slow. Slow is good."
"Says the girl who has fucked her boyfriend six times in the past twenty four hours," Isabelle said, not unkindly.
Clary blushed. "Shut up."
"Never, my darling," replied Isabelle. "So, are we ready to go, or do you need to keep staring at yourself?"
"I need to look good. It's the second night in a row Jace and I will have sex. I'm going for ten rounds."
"Well, you're an optimist."
"I'm just stating facts."
Isabelle mock-glared at Clary, although she was very clearly trying to suppress a smile, and said,
"Well, at least one of us is getting some." She winked and exited the room.
###
"The Pandemonium club?" The younger one of the boys stood outside Clary's residence, examining his surroundings. When he was sure nobody was watching him, he straightened up from his crouched position. "Shit," he said to the phone. He was talking with the older boy, who did not accompany him this time around. He was left alone to find out where the group of friends was going.
Tonight was the night, the boss declared earlier this morning. He'd told them that his associate had called, and that said associate told him that time could not be wasted, for they could be doing what they wanted to do―if only the boss would hurry with his plans.
Which was why the younger boy stood outside the redhead's residence, where the six teens were, apparently planning to drive to The Pandemonium Club. He'd gone there, he remembered with a smug smile, two years ago. He'd gone several times. With a girl, of course, the girl who he now hated as much as she hated him. But, then again, most girls hated him as much as he hated them. He sighed and tensed as the front door opened up.
"Clary," a voice said, and the younger boy recognized it as Jace's. "You . . . wow. I mean, like . . . wow."
She giggled. The younger boy tried to ignore the sexiness in it. He had to focus. But, damn, that girl could turn anyone on.
"Jace," she said, her voice stern. "You're staying over."
"Clary―"
"No buts. My parents are in a conference in San Francisco. They won't be back until tomorrow night," she said.
Jace sighed. "When you put it that way . . ."
The next thing the younger boy knew, Jace had Clary pinned against a wall, his hands all over her body, squeezing her ass, exploring the bare skin under her shirt, kissing her roughly, kissing her neck, lips, eyes, nose. Clary moaned several time and wrapped her legs around his waist. One of her hands was on his hair, pulling him closer, and the other one was dangerously close to traveling under his pants. The younger boy looked away and sent a text message to the older boy.
Clary's parents are out of town until tomorrow. Inform the boss. Now.
The older boy, as oblivious as ever, called him. The younger boy hung up.
They're outside, you fucking idiot, he texted to the older boy.
What are they doing? the older boy replied.
They look like they're about to fuck, the younger boy replied with disgust. He heard panting and footsteps, which meant they must've broken apart. A quick glance from the side of the house confirmed his suspicions: they were now staring at each other hungrily, rather than eating each other up. Then they started to talk. Jace kissed Clary softly, and then they walked inside.
"What now?" the younger boy muttered.
A few minutes passed, and all he heard was the sound of crickets and bugs. He began to get annoyed. What was he supposed to do? Stand outside the fucking door all fucking night and wait until these kids stopped fucking? Goddamn it.
About twenty minutes later, the door opened again. There was laughter and chitchat, which meant only one thing.
He waited for his eyes to see it.
The six teens filed out of the house in pairs of two: Clary and Jace, Isabelle and Simon, Magnus and Alec.
The younger boy hid behind the house and dialed the older boy. "They're leaving," he said once the other boy picked up.
"Go to the club," the older boy instructed. "I'll meet you at the bar."
"I'm on my way." The younger boy hung up, walked to his car, climbed inside, and drove away.
