Chlark Fanfic: Undercover Lover, Chapter 3
Title: Undercover Lover
Author: BabyDee1
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Sexual content
Timeline: Season 7; after Persona
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Clark & Chloe get intimate. But it’s all for the story. Really. :-)
Feedback: …always welcome. :)
Banner by purple_moon123
Runner by go_clo
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 3
Clark stared in a daze as Chloe disappeared from view.
He must have sat staring blankly for ten full seconds before it occurred to him that he really ought to be following her. Quickly he got to his feet, wincing as his throbbing erection bobbed and strained, reminding him of the lack of sexual fulfilment…on his part at least.
Chloe had come so hard he’d felt the force of her orgasm around his fingers, squeezing and releasing him in tight, hot clutches. He scowled as he sat back down again, his groin ached fiercely. If she hadn’t run off he’d be inside her right now, fucking her right here in front of everyone.
Strangely, the thought didn’t shock him as much as he’d expected it to. He’d never had sex in public before, but now he could understand why people did it. The exhilaration of doing something so closeted out in the open where people could see…
A quick thrill buzzed through him. It was like a drug all on its own.
And as for Chloe…he smiled sniffed his fingers before sucking them into his mouth. The flavour of her arousal tantalised his tongue and he closed his eyes, enraptured. He needed more of that; preferably directly from source.
She’d been a revelation, her body so welcomingly wet that he was sure she’d been turned on from the moment she’d first put her hands on him. How had he failed to notice that the first time around? Probably because he’d been too busy trying to tamp down his own reaction to her; because she was his best friend, and over the years he’d conditioned himself not to notice.
And then there was the whole dating her best friend thing. It was poor form to savour the fragrance of one woman’s arousal when he was dating another.
Lana. Again, he had to mentally remind himself that he had a commitment to his girlfriend. For some reason, he was finding it very difficult to remember that. Lana had just ceased to exist for him, all of a sudden, because of Chloe.
Because he’d touched Chloe; tasted her; made her come. And now he wanted to claim her in the most primal way known to man.
He wanted all of her. Now.
He got to his feet again and was just about to whoosh out of the booth when a small group of men bearing a neatly wrapped parcel arrived at the club and headed straight for the back room. He sat down again and trained his x-ray vision on the door of the room, then on second thought activated his super-hearing as well.
“You call this shit Grade-A stock?” the fat man was yelling as he lifted some white powder from the package that had just been delivered. “I’m not going to part with my hard-earned half-a-mill for a substandard product!”
“I assure you, Tony, this is top-level stuff,” the mule argued. “The Snowman would never even consider crossing you; he knows what happens to people who call your bluff.”
“I ain’t convinced,” Fat Tony growled, snapping his money-filled briefcase shut. “Tell you what - I’ll take a gram of this here shit and get my lab boys to verify its quality. If I find out it’s been cut with crap ingredients…”
“You won’t,” the other man assured him. Clark saw him scoop a small quantity of the heroin into a pouch which he handed to Fat Tony. “It’s Grade A. Like I said, he ain’t called the Snowman for nothing. His stuff’s clean; he wouldn’t risk jeopardizing his business, especially not against you.”
Just then, a buzzing sound interrupted his concentration. He blinked and stared at the glowing screen of Chloe’s phone. When she’d fled from the club, she’d forgotten to take her cell with her.
He recognised the name on the caller display as Chloe’s MPD contact, and flipped the screen to answer.
“Detective Russell?” he asked.
“Who the hell is this?” was the rude reply.
“My name’s Clark, I came to the club with Chloe,” he explained, stepping outside to answer away from the noise.
“Yeah, yeah, she said you’d be tagging along. Listen, she told me to hang tight and promised to buzz me when the drop-off was imminent-”
“Uh…yeah, about that…there’s been a problem with the product, so they’ve rescheduled the exchange for tomorrow,” Clark said.
“And how do you know that?” Russell asked suspiciously.
“I…kind of overheard,” he replied. “Fat Tony wasn’t happy with the quality of the stash and he’s taken a sample to be tested.”
“Are they still there?” asked Russell. As if in sync, the door to the backroom opened and the drug mule and his boys made a hasty exit.
“Not anymore,” Clark replied. “But they said they’ll be back tomorrow, and a drop-off is pretty much guaranteed.”
Russell mumbled something unprintable under his breath. Finally he came back on the line.
“I’ll need you guys back on surveillance tomorrow,” he barked.
Clark gulped. “I can’t speak for Chloe, but-”
“Chloe would never turn down the chance of a ground-breaking front page story,” Russell interrupted. “She’s the one who wants the exclusive, so when she’s finished doing whatever it is she’s doing, tell her to give me a call.”
The line went dead. Clark slid her cell into his back pocket and went back into the club. There was something about the atmosphere that elated him, gave him a warm buzz of sorts. He ordered a neat whisky and sipped it slowly, glancing at his watch occasionally with a smug smile.
It had been about thirty minutes since Chloe took off; another thirty would take her to her front door.
He’d give her enough time to get there, and make it to Smallville in time to tuck her into bed.
***
True to his word, he left the club on schedule and arrived at her door in seconds. He reached for the handle, but heard angry voices from within the apartment and shamelessly listened in.
“…Damn it, Chloe why do you have to be like this?” Jimmy Olsen was grumbling. “I didn’t drive all the way over here to get stonewalled. “And you’re already naked under that robe, so what’s the big deal?”
He heard Chloe give a weary sigh. “I’m tired, Jimmy. I’ve had a long day, and I just want to take a shower…”
“So let’s shower together,” he said eagerly. “And a quickie while we’re at it wouldn’t hurt.”
Clark clenched his fists and growled at the thought of the puny photographer putting his hands anywhere on Chloe’s person. Fortunately, Chloe was definitely not in the mood.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Jimmy? I can’t deal with distractions whilst I’m working on a major story!” she replied angrily.
“So sex with your boyfriend is a distraction, now?” he challenged.
“That’s not what I said-”
“You know what? Forget it.” Clark ducked into the shadows as the door was flung wide open.
“You should come with a freaking temperature gauge, Chloe!” Jimmy snarled as he stepped out into the hall. “At least then I’ll have a clear indication of when you’re blowing hot and cold!”
“Goodnight, Jimmy!” she replied dryly from within and slammed the door behind him. Clark remained in the darkened corner and raised a smug eyebrow as the disgruntled, spurned Jimmy stomped down the stairs and out of the building.
As soon as he was gone, Clark opened the door and strode into the apartment. Chloe, now out of her clubbing clothes and wearing only a bathrobe, spun around and glared at him.
“What the hell are you doing here so late?” she thundered.
“What the hell was Jimmy fucking Olsen doing here so late?” he shot back.
“Jimmy’s my boyfriend; he can come here anytime he wants!”
“Yet you kicked him out the door with his tail between his legs,” he snickered. “Wonder why that is.”
Chloe glared at him, her eyes glittering with rage. “You come stomping in here and act like you own me?” she challenged, her voice rising threateningly. “Who the hell do you think you are, Clark?”
He snorted. “Just the guy who gave you a shuddering orgasm less than an hour ago,” he replied, satisfied when he saw an embarrassed flush creeping up her skin.
“You had no right to touch me like that, Clark - no right!" she seethed as she strode towards the bathroom.
He stared at her in surprise. “I had every right! You gave me permission to touch you, said to make it look convincing!”
“I meant kiss me, not make me come in a crowded room full of strangers under a freaking surveillance camera!” she screamed, and reached for the bathroom door handle.
“But you liked it though...didn't you?" he whispered softly, his hand suddenly over hers as he stood behind her. She gulped and said nothing.
“I could hear how loud your heart was beating,” he continued silkily, “…all those breathy sighs and moans you kept making-”
“It was all an act,” she said coldly. “I didn’t want to blow our cover.”
“Liar.” Clark spun her around and held her against the door, compelling her to face him.
“You can give yourself all the excuses you want, Chloe,” he sneered. “But I could feel how much you wanted it. And I certainly know how wet you were.”
“Stop it!” she cried.
“That’s not what you said an hour ago,” he whispered seductively. “…when I was fucking you with my fingers.”
She flushed and swallowed at his coarse words. “You shouldn’t have touched me like that!”
“You wanted me to,” he said, his voice warm and smooth. “And you came for me; all over my hand.”
“It was a fluke,” she spat. "You surprised me - that's all.”
He stilled. “A what?” he said, his tone dropping dangerously.
Chloe shrugged. “You caught me off guard. It was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction.”
“Riiiiiiight,” he said mockingly, nodding as he trailed one finger down her cleavage, parting her robe as his finger descended. “Is it a fluke that you’re getting wet right now?”
Her cheeks reddened with a guilty flush. “I don’t know what you’re talking abou-”
She got no further. In a flash he grabbed the sides of her thick terry bathrobe and shoved it off her shoulders, leaving her completely naked.
She gasped. “Clark! What are you-?”
He whizzed her over to the bed and dropped her flat on her back, and the air left her lungs in a whoosh. Her eyes widened as he yanked her legs apart and spread them wide, baring her intimate flesh to his gaze.
“Oh, God,” she whispered shakily, her thighs trembling as he knelt between her spread legs. Instinctively she tried to close them but he clamped his fingers around her thighs and pressed them further down into the mattress until she was completely open to him.
Then he looked down and stared at her, right there between her legs, and groaned. Her intimate flesh was glistening with moisture, growing wetter under his lustful gaze.
Chloe squirmed and moaned as he stared at her, and his lips curved in a sly smile.
“You like to be looked at, don’t you?” he murmured. “This is turning you on like crazy. Admit it.”
She swallowed hard and said nothing, but he could see and the evidence of her body’s betrayal as the sweet, musky fragrance of her arousal intensified and called to him like a sweet siren.
“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he murmured. Her intimate flesh twitched, and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her into his lungs.
“Clark…?” she whispered, her breath hitching nervously. He hooked his hands under her thighs, still holding them wide apart, and lifted his gaze so that his eyes bore into hers.
“A fluke, huh?” he challenged. “Let's see you explain this orgasm away so easily."
***
Chapter 4…