Chapter Fourteen
"Sleep," she muttered.
"I don't think so, Babe."
She shot up, scanning her room. A lamp clicked to life, almost blinding her after the inky, black room. Past the spots in her eyes, she saw him. He sat on her desk chair, one leg resting on the other, and surveyed her with a calm that was almost chilling. Her eyes flew to his hand, then over him, searching for the tell-tale glint of red. She saw it around his neck.
"Kal," she sneered.
"We meet again," he said darkly, holding her gaze. He suddenly laughed and rose from the chair. "Sorry. Couldn't help it." He was in front of her before she could blink. "All this craziness lately, huh?" He grinned and leaned down. "It's nice to finally get some time alone." He leaned down further, but she ducked under his arm and away.
"No," she said firmly. "Take it off."
"Chloe, sweetie," he crooned. "It's okay. I forgive you." He spread his arms magnanimously. "Come to Daddy."
She stared, open-mouthed. "I can't believe you."
He tilted his head. "And here I thought you were 'here for me.'" He air quoted.
"I meant to talk, not..." She headed for the door and jerked it open. He was right behind her. "You can't just come back and act like nothing happened," she threw over her shoulder as she made her way down the steps.
"Oh, are we playing poor, hurt Chloe?" he asked mockingly. "Because you were the one who dumped me... for him."
She whirled around as she reached the bottom. "Him is you!" she spat up at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Come on!" He was suddenly directly in front of her, picking her up under her arms effortlessly. "Would Clark do this?" He crushed his mouth to hers.
Her arms flailed to the side, almost winding themselves around his neck. But she caught herself and pushed at him. She jumped back. "No," she said, wiping her mouth. "You got me there. And Clark also wouldn't run off to Vegas and get married!" She moved past him through the living room.
"Oh, she's a jealous little kitten, isn't she?" he called from behind her.
"Hardly," she sneered, stalking off to the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and grabbed one of her father's beers. "Jealous is not the word. Disappointed, angry... you... you..." She came back to the living room to find him just lounging on the couch, as if he hadn't a care in the world. "How could you do that to her? To Clark? To... to..."
"You?" he finished, staring hard at her.
"No," she said, shaking her head before taking a long pull of the beer. "Clark is miserable and none of this would have happened if you hadn't..."
"Why don't you just tell me what you're really so pissed about?" he demanded, rising. "You're mad that I ran off with someone else. Admit it."
"I'm not the point," Chloe screamed. "She's... she's dead, Kal."
"I know," he said with an expression that looked almost like remorse. "She was a sweet, little thing. It shouldn't have happened."
"And I can't do this," she sobbed, feeling the beer slip from her grasp as tears practically poured from her eyes. She found herself on the floor, kneeling in the beer puddle that spread on the carpet. "It's too much. Too much. I can't..."
Arms were lifting her from the floor. She couldn't fight them. She let him carry her up the steps and into her room. He laid her on the bed and began pulling off her coat. "No," she said, sniffling. "I don't want to have sex. Get off..."
"Shhhh!" He finished with her coat and moved on to her jeans. She didn't have the energy to fight him. Sobs were racking her body and she hadn't slept for three days straight. She soon found herself in her bra and underwear. She looked up through bleary eyes. His shirt was gone and his hands were working on his pants.
"No, Kal," she breathed. "I don't..."
"Shut it, you dumb blonde," he said softly. He slid in beside her and pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her to him. "Who said anything about sex?"
******************************************
It must have been four in the morning when she woke. It was the snores that did it. She turned over and faced him. It was new. They'd never really slept together. He always slipped away right after. Even snoring in her face, he was so beautiful. Her hand crept up to his cheek. He was getting some stubble. She'd always liked him with stubble. She liked the rough feel of it against her skin.
Her gaze dropped to his neck. She studied the necklace. It must have been how Alicia had drugged him. She'd stolen the ring. She could see the tiny bits of meteor rock strung among the other beads. Her fingers ran over them lightly.
Suddenly, her hand was caught in a vise-like grip. Kal opened his eyes. They flashed bright red, but softened as she held his gaze. His grip lightened and his fingers caressed her wrist. "I didn't sleep with her," he whispered.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," she said, barely audible herself. It was true. Now that she had him back, it didn't matter what he'd done anymore. She was just glad he was hers again.
"I was going to," he went on. "I was mad at you." He stared at her hand. "You'd rather have him, even the way he is, than me."
"No, it's just..." How could she explain it? She wanted Kal and she wanted Clark, just at the same time. She wanted the sweetness and decency that was Clark and the excitement and passion that was Kal, but in the same person. She supposed she couldn't have that. Though, she had to admit, Kal had his moments. She smiled. "You slept with me."
He grinned back. "That's new?"
"Well, you actually slept."
"Shut up," he whispered.
"You were very sweet," she said, giggling.
He closed his eyes. "Seriously, shut up."
"You were," she insisted.
"Don't get used to it," he mumbled. "And close your eyes."
"I'm not sleepy," she said, even as she yawned.
"Well, you better rest up anyway." He pulled her close and wrapped himself around her. "Because, in a few hours, you're gonna get it." She felt his breath start to even out against her forehead. "Call me sweet," he grumbled before he drifted off.
*************************************
"Jesus!"
Chloe tried to grip the bottom of the cabinet behind her. She couldn't figure out what to do with her hands. He grabbed them, saving her the trouble, pinning them to the cabinet door.
"F*ck! So good," he groaned into her neck as he pounded away inside her.
She wanted to agree, but the only thing she was capable of was breathing, and even that was getting hard.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She'd crept out of bed to make them some breakfast. She hadn't had food for days. And coffee just didn't count. It had all gone according to plan, at first. She'd cracked the eggs, added the milk, the cinnamon, the vanilla. She'd just sunk a piece of bread in the batter when she felt a prickling on the back of her neck. She didn't know who moved first, but when she came to, her robe was half-off, there were broken egg shells under her butt, and a soaked piece of toast between them.
She didn't care. It was all too good.
She let out a strangled gasp as her butt started to slide off the slippery counter.
"It's okay," he panted, his hips still keeping up their relentless pace. "I gotcha."
She supposed he did. If he could pretty much balance a car on his finger, he could stop her fall. His powers. She'd almost forgot. He was so strong, he could break her in two. He hadn't up till now, but the fact that he could broke something inside her. She slid her hands from his and wound her arms around his neck, mating her lips with his. He kissed her back, sliding his free hands everywhere he could reach. They were slippery with french toast batter and slid all over her back, her legs, into her hair. He pulled and she let out a surprised yelp. It didn't hurt her, but it could have and that just made her push back against him harder, her inner muscles clenching around him.
"Shit, Chloe!" he grunted.
"Kal!"
They pushed against each other, struggled against each other. Her body began to quake. She'd had some spectacular orgasms with him, but this one might shake her house to the ground. She felt a strange blackness over-taking her as her head lolled backwards.
When she came to, someone was shrieking. It took her a moment to realize it was her. She fell limp against him as he continued to thrust deep into her. Sharp tingles raced all over her body as his thrusts grew sloppy and he nearly howled in her ear, spurting deep inside her.
He rested against her for a moment before standing up straight, taking her with him as he lowered himself to the floor. She landed straddling him. He was still inside her.
"I blacked out," she said with wonder.
He gave a weak laugh. "Go me."
"God, that was..."
"Yeah." He kissed her mouth and leaned his head back, shutting his eyes.
She ran her hands over his hair. "You're so sweaty."
"You're sweatier," he grumbled.
"Yeah, but you never sweat. Not in the summer, not when you're working. Only with..."
"You," he finished. He opened his eyes and grinned. "Don't ask me why."
"Don't worry. I know better." He looked like he might ask what she meant, so she kissed him. First on the mouth, then his forehead, then his eyes.
"What's all this for?" he asked, skating his hands up her sides.
"I missed you," she said, still kissing every bit of skin she could reach.
He laughed. "Don't get all mushy on me now."
"I won't if you won't," she whispered in his ear.
"Wasn't planning to." And he wasn't kidding. She felt him hardening inside her again. She began to move her hips, but he stopped her, tightening his grip and standing up.
She wrapped her legs around him tighter. She didn't want him slipping out now... maybe ever. "What?"
"Let's take this to the shower." He effortlessly strolled through the house to the stairs.
"Ooh, you're such a big, strong he-man," she sighed girlishly.
"You don't know the half of it," he said, smirking.
"Oh, you'd be surprised what I know." She kissed him again quickly. She'd better watch these slip-ups.
******************************************
She lay on her back on the living room floor. Naked. With her mouth open.
"This is weird," she whined. "I don't want to."
"Just let me," he said impatiently. "If I miss, you can hurt me."
"Like that's possible," she said under her breath.
"What?"
"Nothing," she called out. "Okay. I'm ready." She opened her mouth wide again and waited. She almost choked as a big, fate grape landed in.
"Yes!" he hissed.
She quickly chewed and swallowed it, opening her mouth again. She peeked to the side and saw him back up to the stairs. Another one landed. She rolled her eyes as he backed up the very top step.
"You'll never make it," she sang.
"Bet I will." He tossed again... and he made it again. "Alright!" He held out the bunch of grapes in his hand. "Okay, I'm going to try from in the bathroom." He backed in.
Chloe groaned. So he could throw with perfect accuracy. She mentally added that to the growing inventory she filed in her head under Kent, Clark: Powers. She rolled her neck. This was getting tiresome.
"Don't move," he called from the bathroom. She saw his head, but it was tiny. Could he really see her? She decided to test him. She lifted her arm and extended her middle finger. "I saw that," he called out.
Obviously, his vision was more than perfect. She filed it away, too. "I can't help it," she groaned loudly. She smiled a little as she closed her eyes and let her arms leave the floor. "I'm just so restless." She ran her hands up her stomach to her breasts. A grape suddenly bounced off her nose and landed on the floor.
He came back to the landing. "You made me miss."
She leaned up on her elbows and adopted her most innocent expression. "Who, me?"
He started down the stairs, practically licking his chops as he bore down on her. She laid back and waited. He stood at her feet. "You're such a brat," he said.
"Mmmm, but you love it."
He crouched and lowered his lips to her knees. She hummed softly and opened them for him. He was just getting to her inner thigh when the phone rang.
"Ignore it," he barked.
"I can't," she gasped, sliding away from him. "What if it's my dad telling me he's coming home early?"
"Fine," he sighed, dropping himself to the floor and rolling over onto his back.
She scrambled to the kitchen, almost slipping in the egg batter they still hadn't cleaned up, and grabbed the cordless from its cradle. "Yeah... I mean, hello?"
"Hi, Sweetie, it's Martha."
"Oh, hi," she said overly brightly. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm just fine. I'm just wondering if you've seen Clark." There was a pause on the other end. "I checked his room and the barn and he's just nowhere."
"Oh... well..." Kal strode into the kitchen, naked as a jaybird and leaned casually against the doorway. She suppressed a giggle. "Actually, yes. Yes I have."
"Really?" Martha Kent's voice faded. "She's seen him."
"Ask her where he is," Jonathon's faint voice said.
"Chloe, do you know where he went?"
She wanted to tell them he'd gone off to Vermont for a weekend holiday, anything but the truth. But she couldn't lie to the Kents. She didn't want them to worry.
"He's here," she said quickly. "He came over late last night just to hang. You know what a night owl I am, so..."
"Oh, Thank God," Martha sighed. "Can I talk to him? We've been worried sick."
She glanced sideways at Kal. He was right next to her now, his hand reaching between her legs. "Oh, Clark's dead to the world," she said, slapping at his hand. "He must've needed some rest, poor guy."
"Oh, of course," Martha said, relief clear in her voice. "He's had a rough week. Don't wake him. Just tell him we're glad he's all right."
He tweaked her nipple and she almost dropped the phone. "You can depend on me," she said briskly, stepping away again.
"I know I can," Martha said softly. "Thanks, Chloe. Thanks for taking care of my boy."
"Anytime," Chloe said, feeling more than a little guilty. "And I'll send him home as soon as he snaps out of it."
"Thanks again."
"No problem. Goodbye." She hung up, placing the phone in the cradle before dropping her head to her hands. "That was your mom," she mumbled through her fingers. Her face felt like it would burst into flames.
"Ouch. Mood killer."
She straightened. "This isn't funny. She was really worried." She walked past him toward the stairs.
"I can handle it, Chloe."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, running up the stairs. "I'm going to get dressed and then you will get dressed, then I'm taking you home." She stopped short of her door. "Maybe I should clean the kitchen first." She turned back around. "No. Clothes first."
She pulled on yesterday's pants and a top that was hanging over her chair. Couldn't he have left a note? The poor Kents. She pulled on some socks and jammed her feet into her boots. She grabbed her coat from the floor and draped it over her arm.
"Go on," she said, hurrying down the stairs. "Get dressed while I get that kitchen..."
"I got the kitchen," he said smugly, tossing a dishtowell over his shoulder. He was still naked and looked just silly.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure you did." She moved past him. "Now get dressed and I'll..." She stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, letting her coat slide to the floor. Not only was her kitchen clean, it nearly sparkled. She felt his presence behind her. "What did you do?"
"Bought us some time," he said. She felt him nibbling her neck and she turned limp and pliant in his arms.
"But you have to go," she said weakly.
He pulled her shirt over her head. She didn't protest. It was kind of hard to resist a guy that did housework. "Clark's resting, remember? Why don't we give him a little more rest? Huh?"
"Mmmm. Yes. Anything you want," she sighed as he pulled her pants down her legs. "I mean, you did do the dishes."
Previous Chapter
Chapter Fifteen
No comments:
Post a Comment