(no subject)

[grown_up_wrong]

Lex had never been particularly interested in Chloe.

It wasn’t that he’d ever found her boring or unappealing. She’d just never been central to his thought processes. Even during the months leading up to his father’s trial, her significance had been in what she represented and what she could help him accomplish, rather than anything personal. There had been a few moments-and one evening in particular-when she’d threatened to become more than that. But he’d always drawn back and reestablished his priorities before anything could come of it.

He’d thought about her on and off in Smallville: admired her wit and cleverness, recognized how attractive she’d be when she’d grown up a little, rolled his eyes at her silly attachment to Clark, been angry when she’d gotten in the way of his plans. But, for the most part-with only a few exceptions-his attention to her had been fleeting.

Lex wasn’t a man to do things halfway, but Chloe had never been one of his obsessions.

Until now.

Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop brooding on why she was with his father. Couldn’t stop randomly wondering what she was doing at any given moment. And whom she was doing it with.

It infuriated him to be so hung up on her, since she’d never been an important factor in his life. But she’d somehow become so-despite all of his efforts to stem the tide of this new obsession-because of one brief, appalling encounter six weeks ago.

Before he’d caught her with his father in the mansion, Lex hadn’t seen Chloe in years and had thought of her very rarely. Since then, he was having trouble concentrating on anything else.

Two months ago, he hadn’t even known what her job was now or where she was working-he’d just vaguely assumed she was probably in journalism. Now, he knew everything about her that could be discovered through investigation: her education, career, living situation, financial state, social circle, and telephone records. He knew where she’d gone on every vacation she’d taken for the last four years. He knew the rent and the layout of the cramped, uncomfortable apartment she lived in. He knew what birth control pills she took. He knew of most of the men she’d dated since college and a few that she’d dated in college. He knew that her relationship with her cousin-the annoying Lane woman at the Daily Planet-was slowly disintegrated and that her friendship with Clark Kent was as good as dead.

He knew all of that-and hundreds of other details about her life, from the trivial to the foundational.

And none of it had done him any good.

Lex still didn’t understand how such an anomaly could exist in the world. Lionel Luthor. And Chloe Sullivan.

Fucking.

Evidently fucking a lot.

It was one of those ideas that were just so wrong, so irrational, so utterly abhorrent, that the mind refused to admit them as fact. No matter how much evidence Lex had to the contrary, he just couldn't process it as true.

He was keeping track of Chloe’s whereabouts most of the time now, and he knew exactly when and how often she visited his father’s apartment. He knew when she spent the whole night there and when she left to go home, at one or two o'clock in the morning.

He also had the proof of his own eyes. He’d seen them-seen them-which meant he couldn’t live in willful, blissful delusion.

It wasn’t like he was ever going to forget that particular image.

And that was the worst part of all-and part that sometimes made Lex want to gouge his eyes out like Oedipus in self-disgust. Despite all his questions about his father’s purposes and Chloe’s mental health, despite the suspicious circumstances he’d discovered on possible connections between the two that went far beyond the bedroom, despite the fact that there would be lasting consequences to his father’s establishing a permanent relationship with Chloe, despite all of that . . .

It was the sex that obsessed Lex the most.

There were some sons or daughters-he supposed-who could be blasé about the details of their parents’ sexual lives, but Lex suspected they were few and far between. But this . . . this profanation went far beyond the normal awkwardness a son might feel-even as an adult-at catching his father mid-fuck.

Lex’s relationship with his father had been steadily declining ever since he'd moved to Smallville. And, at this point, every encounter and interaction between them carried a weight of strategic significance. So, while Lex was sure that the scene had not been staged for his benefit (although he desperately wished that it had been fake)-Lex had lost more ground in their battle than he’d ever been able to afford by witnessing his father fucking Chloe like that.

Lionel Luthor was in his fifties, and he was heartless, selfish, cruel predator.

He should not-not-be having incredibly hot sex with a smart, gorgeous twenty-three-year-old woman.

Still, even after a month and a half, the thought made him cringe: his own father was having that sex like that, while Lex had to be satisfied with boring, listless fucks with an endless stream of nameless brunettes.

But even that-even the nauseating incongruity-wasn’t the worst of it.

Lex wasn't obsessing over this, merely because it was so wrong in so many ways. There was another component to his misery, the most appalling one of all.

Lex had gotten to the mansion early that day in an instinctive strategic move. He’d been so early, however, that he’d gone back into the office to make some calls, so he wouldn’t end up wasting all of the spare time. When he'd finished, he’d entered the library through the side door, only to discover that his father was already there. With Chloe.

With a half-naked Chloe who was riding his father wantonly while the man reclined back in a chair.

The only piece of mercy in the entire scenario was that Lex hadn’t had a very good view of his father. Had he been able to see more than legs, hands, and glimpses of his profile, Lex wasn’t sure what he could have dealt with it.

Lionel had been mostly out of his range of vision, however.

But Chloe hadn’t.

And the sight of her flushed face twisted in pleasure, her lush body bouncing with shameless need, her legs splayed widely, revealing her intimate flesh-accompanied by her pleading whimpers and helpless, erotic cries-had had the effect on Lex that they would have had on any heterosexual man.

The fact that it was his father’s hands that were stroking and gripping Chloe’s eager body, his father’s voice that was urging her to further heights of pleasured need, his father’s will that was guiding her almost primitive motion, his father’s cock that was making her scream, had made Lex’s involuntary arousal one of the most mortifying experiences of his life.

He’d stood frozen in the doorway-in shock, disgust, and sick fascination-for far longer than he cared to admit to. And then, when they’d finished and he’d finally pulled himself together, he’d cleared his throat and left the room with the meager remnants of his pride, praying they wouldn't notice he was half erect.

He’d gotten into this car and pulled away from the mansion in a glazed stupor. A couple of miles out of town, he’d pulled over on the side of the room. Opened the door of the car. And vomited violently onto the pavement.

Now, six weeks later, he was able to deal with the situation with only the smallest degree more acceptance.

During the day, even as he obsessed over what was going on between Chloe and his father-and why-he was able to force all stray memories of the sexual images out of his mind.

At night, however, he wasn’t so successful. And sometimes, in those blurry minutes between sleep and waking, he’d relive what he’d seen, often adding new images of his own creating.

And he'd suffer through his body’s response to it.

Lex hated it. Hated being this weak. Hated himself for not being able to let it go. Hated Chloe for debasing herself by fucking a monster.

Hated his father most of all.

Lex assumed, every morning he woke up from troubled, broken sleep, that he’d eventually learn to deal with the situation. He had to.

He couldn’t exist like this for much longer.

* * *

More than once, Lex had driven over to Chloe’s apartment-when he’d known she was home and his father was out of town-and he'd sat in his car at the curb, trying to decide whether or not he should go up.

He’d never gone, though. He was certain she wouldn't be happy to see him, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to her anyway.

“Stop fucking my father,” wasn’t likely to go over well, and everything else that had been driving him crazy for the last weeks was far too tangled up in his mind to clearly articulate.

So he’d always driven away, without even getting out of his car, furious at himself and hopelessly unresolved.

Lex couldn't help but think he might begin to find some closure if he could just confront this nightmare head-on.

Thus far, he hadn’t. He avoided any possible encounter with his father-still too revolted by the whole situation to have the composure necessary to deal with their characteristic warfare. Once, his father had shown up at a political luncheon that Lex had also been attending, but Lex had been able to slip out before his father had realized he was present.

It was a weak and cowardly move. But it was better than letting Lionel see how much this situation had affected his son.

And so it wasn’t until late December, at the mayor’s annual Christmas ball, that Lex once again came face to face with his new obsession.

Lex always went to that damned, boring ball, and his father never did, so Lex had found himself an attractive date-a brunette he’d gone out with a few times before. He’d been too distracted lately to put any effort into his social life. He hadn’t even fucked her yet, and he had no interest in doing so. But he wasn’t about to show up to such an important social function without a beautiful woman on his arm.

Lex had been at the ball for almost an hour-going through the motions of schmoozing and political maneuvering-when he heard a familiar murmur ripple through the crowd that signified someone noteworthy had arrived.

Someone noteworthy had arrived. Lionel Luthor, wearing a traditional tux and an arrogant smirk. And on his arm was Chloe, dressed in a burgundy evening gown that revealed far too much of her cleavage and emphasized the rich curve of her hips.

It was evidently their first public function as a couple, as evidenced by the mild surprise and gleeful curiosity on the expressions of the mingled Metropolis elite. Watching his father’s self-satisfied expression as he started introducing his very young, gorgeous girlfriend and establishing the nature of their relationship by occasionally sliding his hand down Chloe’s bare back or leaning over to brush his lips against her ear, was enough to cause the bile to rise in Lex’s throat.

He forced himself to keep going through the motions, making sure his back was always directed at his father. But he could feel them-wherever they were in the room-and as the evening progressed the stress took its toll on Lex’s invariable cool composure.

Everyone in Metropolis knew that the Luthor father and son were as good as enemies. So no one expected Lex to go over and welcome Chloe into the family fold. But people kept needling him with subtle questions or boldly demanding gossip. Everyone wanted Lex to tell them if Lionel Luthor, who hadn’t been more than temporarily attached to any one woman since his wife had died, was serious about the blonde.

Lex didn't know how serious they were, and he wouldn't tell anyone even if he had. His only clue about the exclusivity of their relationship had been that they hadn't used a condom. His father would never risk his health unless he were sure it was safe, and he'd never fuck someone who was fucking someone else anyway. But why Chloe trusted Lionel's faithfulness was an entirely different question, and one that Lex had spent far too much time brooding about.

He tried now to think about other things, but it was turning out to be impossible. Every time some idiotic woman raved about how nice it was that Lionel had finally fallen in love, Lex reached for another glass of champagne.

He ended up drinking a lot of champagne.

Lex didn't even like champagne.

Finally, an hour-and-a-half after his father's arrival, Lex couldn’t stand it any more. He couldn’t leave this early without offending the mayor. But he was beginning to doubt his ability to get through the evening without making an irreversible error in strategy.

So, after carefully noting his father’s location-talking business with two men whom Lex knew would probably keep Lionel occupied for a long time-Lex told his date he’d be back in a minute and then slipped out of the ballroom.

Chloe was still at Lionel’s side-his hand was curved possessively at the top of her ass, and it would occasionally slip lower, with an audacity that made Lex clench his fingers around the stem of his champagne glass. She’d looked bored and restless and had been fidgeting a little, until Lionel had leaned over and said something in her ear.

She’d grown still then, but it had been obvious that she knew she wasn't escaping from that endless business discussion anytime soon.

Unlike his father, who had never even acknowledged Lex’s presence at the ball, Chloe had glanced over in Lex's direction early on and then jerked when she recognized him. She’d turned away from him quickly, her cheeks staining with an attractive flush, but he’d noticed her eyes lingering on him a couple of times after that.

Clenching his jaw, Lex told himself that neither of them should matter to him. He was an intelligent, powerful man, and who his father was screwing didn’t alter anything about his own secure position.

But Lex still had to leave for a few minutes, to recover from the strain of hiding his emotional turmoil.

After leaving the ballroom unnoticed, he wandered upstairs and down a hall until he found a vacant sitting room. It was cool and quiet, so Lex went in and walked over to the window. Staring down at the lit cityscape, he concentrated on breathing and tried to clear his mind.

He’d always known he had an obsessive personality. But this was getting ridiculous.

He managed to relax after a few minutes, and he talked himself into acknowledging how absurd it was for him to get so worked up about this. Old men hooked up with gorgeous young women all the time-at least, when the man had money. This situation wasn't any worse than a tawdry trophy-girlfriend cliché.

That fact that this was Chloe, and that Lex couldn’t believe she was fucking his father simply for the money or position, didn’t make the affair any more significant. It just didn't.

And that fact that Lex had witnessed how Chloe had responded to sex with his father-thus negating the possibility that she wasn't really interested in the bastard-wasn’t a thought Lex was willing to return to. He just wasn't.

Lex was trying to clear his mind again, having flashed a vivid, unwanted image of Chloe’s lush body convulsing in orgasm, when he heard a rustling behind him and heard the door to the sitting room, which he’d left partly open, close with a click.

Turning quickly, Lex was in time to see Chloe slump against the door she’d just closed and let out a textured gust of relief.

Then her eyes opened and she realized that Lex was in the room.

She jerked upright, her full bottom lip falling open in astonishment. “Oh.”

Lex's mind was suddenly flooded with a hot rush of anger, confusion, mortification, and desire. For a moment, he couldn’t do anything more than stare back at her, wondering if he'd conjured her up in a sick fantasy.

But long experience had taught him to school his expression, no matter how riotous his feelings. So eventually he was able to take a breath and say coolly, “I was just leaving, if you’d like the room to yourself.”

“Oh.” Chloe was clearly just as unnerved as he was, and-as he watched-a deep flush started to spread from her cheeks, down her neck, and to the pale expanse of skin above her neckline.

How ironic, Lex thought bitterly, a cold anger starting to swallow his other emotions, that she could fuck a man she should hate with such wild abandon but still blush as if she were embarrassed by it.

Shaking her head slightly, Chloe rallied. “I can find somewhere else. I didn’t know anyone was here. I just . . .” Her words trailed off, as if she were reconsidering her explanation.

“Got bored with being the mindless symbol of a man's ego?” Lex bit out the words before he could stop himself. He hadn’t intended to say anything. He’d just planned to leave with appropriate dignity and pretend the encounter had never occurred.

Chloe blinked. “Lex,” she began slowly, “It’s not . . .”

“It’s not what? Not like that? You expect me to think you're a normal couple? You’re saying the two of you are really in love?”

He couldn’t believe such a thing was even possible, but just saying the words made his stomach churn.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed and her spine stiffened. Evidently, he’d just made her mad.

“I’m saying it’s none of your business."

“Isn’t it? If I’m going to have a new step-mother in the near future, then I’d say it does concern me.” Lex knew his remarks were more than a little petty, but the agonized turmoil he'd been suffering from abruptly tightened into an irresistable compulsion.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Chloe's voice was so disdainful that Lex was actually relieved. Evidently, a marriage to Lionel wasn't even on her radar.

“I’m sorry you walked in on us," she continued, obviously attempting to act reasonable. "In fact, thinking about it still makes me cringe. But no one intended for it to happen, and we should just try to forget it ever did.”

Something about the strain in her eyes showed Lex that she was having trouble forgetting about it too.

He was about to leave, not wanting his anger to push him into any more tactical errors, but then a random detail caught his eye.

Chloe hands were fisting and unfisting at her sides, and-noticing the revealing gesture-Lex happened to see the bracelet on her wrist.

It was a beautifully crafted piece of platinum and diamond jewelry. And there was no way Chloe would have been able to afford it with her pitiful salary or the spending limits on her credit cards.

In fact, there was no way she could have afforded the expensive designer dress she was wearing. Or the strappy heels. Or the diamond double-drop earrings.

But Lex knew who could afford it.

For some reason, this evidence that she'd let Lionel dress her was the thing that broke Lex’s tenuous control.

“What the hell are you doing with him?” he demanded, his rough tone breaking the stark silence.

Chloe blinked again. “Lex . . .”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Chloe. I'm more than capable of recollecting what you’ve evidently decided to forget.” Lex took a step forward, feeling the shape of his emotions finally coalesce, allowing him articulate them at last. “He tried to kill you. He almost did. And now, only a few years later, you’re letting him fuck you.”

Chloe held her ground in the face of Lex’s advance, and her eyes smoldered with a growing resentment of her own. “You don’t know anything about it. So don’t try to act all self-righteous and appalled.”

“I am appalled!” Lex’s breathing had accelerated and his mouth was getting dry. “And disgusted. And completely unable to understand how this could ever be something that you’d want.”

Chloe opened her mouth to reply but then snapped it shut. Swallowed hard, and then pronounced clearly, “Well, you’ll just have to accept that there are things beyond the limits of your understanding.”

She’d used the cool words as a weapon, condescending to him as if he’d been a naïve child. And Lex felt his simmering anger rise up in his throat.

“Then maybe you can make it clear to me.” He managed, with some effort, to sound almost as cool as she had. “Exactly what part of his blackmail, manipulation, threats, or criminal activity was the thing that finally turned you on? Is it his attempted murders that get you hot? Or maybe the ones he actually succeeded in? Chloe, playing with him is like playing with a venomous snake. You found that out the hard way in Smallville. Why would you believe things are different now?”

“They are different.” She was flushed again-from anger this time-and her chin was sticking out in a clear sign of her temper. She hadn't been mad at him before, but he'd evidently hit a sore spot. “I’m not a teenager anymore, Lex. I'm a grown woman who makes her own choices. I know what I’m doing.”

With an irritated twitch, she tried to brush by him, but Lex’s momentum was unstoppable now. It had taken him this long to finally let out the weeks of brewing angst, and he was had no intentions of leaving until he'd had his say. He grabbed her upper arms to hold her still and made her face him squarely. “You do not know what you’re doing. If you did, you wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Don’t assume that you know anything about me.” Chloe’s eyes were suddenly ice cold, but she didn’t try to shake out of his grip. “You’ve never known me at all.”

Something about the ominous sound of her voice in the otherwise quiet room struck Lex strangely. He froze for a moment-his fingers still pressing into the bare skin of her upper arms-and he wondered why her words had seemed so important.

She was different now than she’d been in Smallville. Not just because she’d grown-up and somehow transformed into a very sexual creature. It was more than that. She was harder than she’d been. More jaded. Less sunny. As if the intervening years hadn’t been kind to her.

They hadn’t been kind to Lex either. And he was in no mood now for pity or empathy.

Shaking his head hard, to recover from his momentary lapse, he returned to the offensive. “I do know some things. Do you really think that, after such a revelation, I wouldn't have investigated further?” He paused, observed, but Chloe’s face didn’t reveal any clues.

So Lex pressed on. “I know about how you got your promotion at work. And I know about the access you have to certain sources of information.”

With a gasp, Chloe jerked herself away from his clutching hold. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that I also know about my father’s latest ventures and about the political deal that just fell into LuthorCorp’s lap.” Lex felt the rising pressure in his chest again, and he had to restrain himself from shaking some sense into Chloe. “He’s using you again! Just like he used you back in Smallville. What did he blackmail you into this time?”

“He didn’t blackmail me into anything,” Chloe insisted, but she looked briefly uncomfortable for the first time.

“I’m not a fool, Chloe. You must be feeding him information. You've made the same mistake you made six years ago. You know how it's going to end. Once he pulls you into his web, you’re never going to get out.”

“It’s not the same mistake.” Chloe wasn’t nearly as cool now, and she combed her hair back restlessly from her face. Then she did it again. “If I’m in his web now, it’s because I choose to be. Lex, you’re going to have to accept . . .”

“I’m not going to accept it,” he gritted out, hardly able to comprehend how anyone could be so blind and stubborn at the same time. “Whether you realize it or not, he’s using you. You can pretend that you're in control of it, but it’s no different now than it was then, except . . .”

For the first time, Lex was slammed with a horrifying thought. One that actually made him queasy. “He wasn’t . . . back then . . .?” he asked, with embarrassing incoherence.

The incoherence was evidently not a problem for Chloe. She rolled her eyes and gave him a nasty look. “No, he wasn’t fucking me back then. Don't be sick. And the situation is entirely different now.”

“Because of the sex?” Lex demanded. “If he’s extorting information from you or threatening you, how the hell can you want to . . .” Another thought struck him, and he felt an odd swell of a nearly forgotten protectiveness in his gut. “Is that why you’re with him? Is he blackmailing into it?"

“It’s not blackmail,” Chloe raged, almost growling now in exasperation.

She was beautiful and fiery and yet seemed strangely vulnerable. But Lex did his best not to notice, since her tousled appearance did nothing to settle his chaotic emotions.

“Then intimidation or manipulation or whatever he has over you. Is that why you’re willing to . . .”

“For God’s sake, Lex! You were there at the mansion, at least for the last bit. Did it look like I was an unwilling partner?”

Lex’s head jerked away and he swallowed, as the unwanted images rushed back to him.

Chloe must have noticed this sign of weakness. She’d become a ruthless fighter over the years, and she wasn’t giving him any slack. Her tone altered, became low and almost sultry. “You saw how much I was enjoying it. How hard he made me come. You must have heard me screaming from pleasure he was giving me.”

The words were weapons-as unbearable as the memories she was conjuring up in Lex’s mind-and Chloe must know it as much as he did.

“Do you really think he’s bullying me into sex?”

With great effort, Lex shrugged away her taunting and the hot rush of involuntary desire it had evoked. “Physical response isn’t proof of volition. You know how faulty an argument that is.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but my response is by my own volition. I’m with him because I want to be, as hard as you might find that to believe.”

He found it impossible to believe. But somehow it seemed to be true.

Seeing that this particular argument was going nowhere, Lex changed tactics. He should have just let things be-there was nothing really he could accomplish here-but the weeks of build-up had finally reached their threshold.

Lex couldn’t let this go, now that he finally had an outlet.

“It might be your choice, but you’ll never convince me it’s a good one. You keep talking about choice, as you let him rob you of volition.”

Chloe gaped at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” Lex rasped, “I was there-just as you said. I saw what you claim to be a mutual act. It didn’t appear mutual to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sharp and cutting, and she looked like she was on the edge of throttling him. “There were two of us there-until you made an unwelcome third. One cock. One pussy. Two orgasms. Mutual.”

Lex curled up his lip at the crude words, but didn't let them distract him. “You claim to be in control of this, but you’re letting him take it from you. He’s got you under his thumb. How can you believe it’s truly equal?”

Chloe was so mad now she was sputtering, and Lex took ruthless advantage of her momentary speechlessness to drive his thrust home. “He’s the one in control: of what you do, of how you do it, of when you fucking come." He fired each word out like a bullet. "How much control does that leave you?”

Chloe’s hand flew up, as if she were about to slap him, but she stopped herself in time and yanked her arm back down to her side. “Just how long were you standing there watching us? You pretend to be so lofty and self-righteous, but you’re nothing but a pathetic perv. Did it turn you on, watching your father fuck me? Did you watch the show with your hand down your pants?”

She was trying to draw blood, but Lex wasn’t willing to let her this time. He narrowed his eyes coldly, despite the wave of shame he felt at the memory of his reaction. He didn't let her hear that in his words, however. “It had to be that, of course. It must have been the cheap thrill, not disgusted astonishment, that prevented me from immediately reacting.”

The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, but Chloe completely ignored it. “Astonishment? Lex Luthor was astonished by something so tame as a quick afternoon fuck in a chair? You don’t expect me to buy that, do you?”

“I couldn’t care less,” he bit out, “If you buy it or not. And you’re intentionally trying to misdirect the conversation. You never answered my question. You’ve let him take control of the entire relationship, and yet you expect me to believe it’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.” She was enraged again, and her hair was now tousled around her flushed face. “So what if he likes to take charge? It doesn’t mean he has all the power.”

One small part of Lex’s mind couldn’t believe they were actually having this conversation. But everything else in his life had been irrationally surreal for the last six weeks. Why should this encounter be any different?

“He has all the power because you give it to him?. And that doesn’t leave you with any of it.”

Chloe made a burst of frustrated noise in her throat. “Maybe I like it that way. Has that ever occurred to you? Maybe I like sex that way. Can’t that be something I decide?”

“Of course, it’s something you decide. But I don’t think it’s a decision you would . . .”

“What the hell are you getting so prudish about? So we play a little power game. There’s a whole sexual industry built on it-most of it far more extreme than anything we do. If a grown man is that shocked by seeing some fairly tame sex, then he really needs to get around more.”

“I’ve been around,” Lex assured her frigidly. “I have little interest in the silly theatrics and artificial sexual scenarios you're referring to, but very little of it is likely to shock me. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you, effacing yourself in the selfish will of someone else.”

Chloe released a raspy exhale of annoyance. “Effacing myself? For God's sake, Lex. So I let him tell me what to do in bed. Surely you’re not going to stand there and argue that people can’t be sexually creative, experimenting in ways they find enjoyable.”

“I’m not arguing anything of the kind. I’m not talking about people in general. People can do what they want. I’m talking about you. Chloe Sullivan.” He closed the gap between them so that he was right in her face. “Are you going to tell me that Chloe Sullivan-when she’s truly being herself and isn't victimized by her own demons-would ever want a relationship that’s built on the surrender of her will?”

His rough, angry words hung in the air for a moment, and he breathed urgently through his nose, trying to pull himself back together.

He had no idea where all of that had come from. He had no proof, beyond the one scene he had witnessed, that Chloe had genuinely submitted to Lionel's selfish need to dominate. And he didn't know why it mattered so much to him. But he'd let instinct take over his reason, and the words had just kept pouring out.

Chloe stared at him blindly, and-for a fleeting moment-he saw something in her expression that made him wonder if something he’d just said had struck home.

She looked away from him, toward the window, and whispered, “Maybe she does.”

There was a loss so poignant in the hushed words that Lex felt a brief ache in his throat.

Then Chloe met his eyes again. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me. You never have.”

In a way, it was true. Even when they’d been closer, they’d never really been close. There had been a few occasions when it had felt like they were connected, when they might have finally closed the distance between them. But Lex had never wanted to follow through.

Now, he was wondering why.

“Chloe,” he began, changing tactics yet again and summoning all his reserves of persuasion, “Even if your relationship was emotionally satisfying, he’d still be dangerous. He always will be. How can you ignore everything that he did to you-to everyone-in Smallville?”

Chloe was cold again. As cold and hard as ice. “I don’t ignore it. It’s simply irrelevant.”

Lex stared at her, mouth opened. He just couldn’t understand.

“Anyway, what do you expect me to do?” Chloe went on, with an impatient toss of her head, “Dump him?”

“Yes. Of course, that’s what you should do. And stop letting him use you at all. You don’t owe him anything.”

Something had changed in Chloe now. It seemed like the fire-that had been blazing in her earlier-had died into embers. She shook her head slowly. “You haven’t really thought this through, have you? I’m supposed to dump him? Dump Lionel Luthor-long before he’s had his fill of me. And then tell him that I want nothing to do with him ever again.” She released a bitter little laugh. “And what exactly do you expect to happen then?”

Lex blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Lex!” The one word was sharp and startling, making Lex take a step back. “You’re the one who keeps reminding me of what happened back in Smallville. What did he do then, when I turned against him?”

Something dropped in Lex’s gut.

Lionel had struck back, with nearly deadly results.

Seeing that he was tracking with her now, Chloe went on, her voice steeped in irony. “And what do you think would happen now? Now that the betrayal would be far more intimate and the loss to him would be far greater?”

Lex had never thought that far. In all his obsessing, brooding, raging about the situation, he’d never even considered what would happen if Chloe did what he wanted and pulled herself out of his father’s web.

But he knew what would happen.

Lionel would strike back. And this time, there wouldn’t be any close calls.

His heart hammering in his chest, Lex put one hand on her shoulder in an unusually awkward gesture. “Chloe, I can help you. Just say the word. I’ll help you get away from him.” He held her eyes, thought he saw something there he remembered. “I can protect you.”

“Yeah,” she huffed out. She looked so young, for just a moment, and the words seemed to come from years-from ages-ago. “Like you protected me then?”

The memory, the disbelieving tone, the implication slammed into Lex’s chest like a blow. His eerie poignance transformed into defensiveness. “I did protect you before.”

Chloe shook her head, breaking whatever spell the two had been sharing. “You kept me alive. I’ll give you that much. But don’t pretend it was from anything but selfishness.”

He wanted to object-since what she’d said wasn’t entirely true. But it was partly true. And that was enough for the weight of guilt to keep him silent.

She must have seen his wordless admission because something altered on her face. There was a depth of knowledge in her eyes that looked ancient and so, so tired. She whispered, “You took from me too. Just like he did.”

Lex felt a painful lump in his throat, and his mind closed immediately on one particular memory-one he’d always been able to push back to the edges of his conscious thought. He saw, with a thud in his chest, that Chloe was remembering it too.

The night before the jury had announced the verdict in his father's trial. It wasn't something Lex wanted either of them to remember.

In the thick, heavy silence that followed, he wondered-for the first time-what he’d taken from Chloe that night.

But questions like that made him weak. Questions like that were why he’d never been able to achieve any real victory over his father. And Lex wasn’t willing to indulge in them at the moment.

So he said, “Given the alternative, I’m surprised you’re complaining about my selfishness in saving your life.”

She huffed out a disbelieving breath. “And that’s what’s supposed to convince me now? Despite what I’ve told you about why and how we’re together, I’m to believe that your father is so unspeakable that anything-anything, even his own son’s selfish agenda-is preferable to him?”

Lex’s neck twitched. “Selfish agenda? Damn it, Chloe, can’t you see I’m trying to help you?”

“Right.” The one word was stretched out in a bitter drawl. “You’re trying to help me.” She took a step forward, until her face was only inches from his. “You’re not dealing with some inexperienced, gullible fool here. Do you really think your macho, righteous act is fooling me? You’ve never cared anything about me or my well-being. And I’m supposed to buy that you’ve suddenly experienced a transformation of feeling?”

Her next words were like a slap in the face. Lex actually jerked back, as if he’d been struck. “I know exactly why you’re doing this, Lex!”

“And why is that?”

“Pulling me away from your dad would be the ultimate victory for you, and much more satisfying than our turning against him in Smallville since he has so much more invested in me now. You're not fooling anyone, Lex. And I’m not going to let you use me as another pawn in the pathetic game you two are still playing.”

Lex stared at her. Clenched his jaw as he seethed, willing himself to not lose any more control. Hated her-for being right and for leaving him no response.

“You’re not thinking about me at all!” Chloe's words like lashes, her expression as ruthless as he’d ever seen it. “That’s why it never occurred to you that getting your way in this would endanger me. You’re not trying to save me. You just don’t want your dad to have me, since-for some reason-you think it gives him some kind of power over you.”

Lex swallowed. Wanted to lash out, lash back. But his words were swallowed up in his throat.

“Well, guess what, Lex? He does have me. And that’s not likely to change. So leave me alone, and go back to wallowing in your childish, vindictive jealousy.”

Lex finally got his voice back, in a burst of absolute outrage. “Jealousy? What does he have that I would ever want?”

Her voice-which had been as hard and cutting as steel-suddenly grew quiet, grew silky, grew venomous. And infinitely more deadly. “He has balls, Lex. And you lost yours ages ago.”

Lex grunted. He wasn’t even thirty years old, but no one-no one except his father-had had the nerve to speak to him that way in years.

He couldn’t even process that the words had been said.

Evidently seeing that she’d scored a winning shot, Chloe gave him an icy smile and turned to leave the room again.

She was almost to the door when Lex suddenly realized what was happening. He was Lex Luthor, and he had accomplished things in his life that few men could even dream of.

He was not going to let some infuriating, over-sexed blonde get the best of him.

With three long strides, he beat her to the door. Stood in front of it and heard his voice crack like a whip as he said, “So you want to talk to me about balls?”

She’d jerked to a stop and her jaw dropped open. He’d clearly surprised her by not retreating as she’d expected. But her surprise hadn't captured her tongue. “What? Are you going to unzip and play show-and-tell?”

He ignored the snide taunt and continued, feeling a power growing inside him that he’d almost forgotten existed. “While you’ve been deluding yourself with the idea that you're strong and rebellious, all you’ve done is make yourself a whore to your weakness.”

He saw her head snap back at his choice of words, and he felt an involuntary pang of regret that he immediately brushed aside. He went on mercilessly, “Consider that, the next time you want to question me. You have no idea who I am, what I’ve done, or what I’ve been willing to risk.”

Chloe had made a quick recovery. She reached out and grabbed him by the lapels of his tux. Pulled him away from the door, either to clear her way out or to show him she wouldn't be intimidated. “You like to think that, don’t you?" she burst out. "But what exactly have you done? Your whole life, you’ve been too scared to get out of your father’s shadow. You pretend to leave his business behind in an grand act of defiance, but all you do is bury yourself in a pale copy of LuthorCorp. You claim to be his moral superior, but all you do is play his silly political games-games he's still writing the rules to. You satisfy yourself with a series of one-night-stands with beautiful women-the most tame, clichéd kind of sexual rebellion-because you never had the balls to fuck the woman you really want!”

She paused, and all Lex could hear in the room was the texture of her heavy breathing, and his.

In the roar of emotion in his head, he realized that she must be talking about Lana. He vaguely wondered if she thought he was still hung up on the twit, or if she had someone else in mind now.

Before he could get his thoughts together enough to reply, Chloe spit out, “Your father sees what he wants, and he takes it. That’s how he got me and everything else he’s ever achieved. And that’s why you’ll always be a disappointment to him. Because you-spoiled, whiny, spineless rich boy-you’ll never have the balls to take what you want.”

Something snapped inside of Lex. There was no other way to describe it. Without pausing, without thinking, he grabbed Chloe's face and hauled her into a kiss.

The tide of his anger hadn’t waned, but the perverse desire he’d been assaulted with for the last weeks had suddenly flooded into his blood. A force of lust was coursing through him, with his outrage and resentment and a bone-deep need to prove to Chloe that she was wrong.

Groaning roughly into her mouth, he moved his hands to her shoulders and turned their bodies around until he was pressing her hard into the door. His mouth devoured hers, claiming her with his lips, his teeth, and his tongue.

After her first startled gasp and jerk, she didn’t resist. And the way her warm, soft body yielded to the force of his touch, caused new waves of primitive, masculine pride to slam into him in overwhelming succession.

Chloe's hands were still on his labels, her fingers fisted in the fabric, so her arms were trapped between their bodies. He held the back of her head with one hand, shielding it from a hard impact with the door, and his other hand was ravaging the lush curves and dips and hollows of her body, exploring every part of her he could find.

She wasn’t really kissing him back, but she wasn’t trying to pull away. If she were, even now, he’d have to release her. But her mouth had opened to his, and she was making breathless sounds in her throat. And that was enough to make him groan again and try to squeeze his hand between their bodies to find a breast.

His cock had hardened so quickly it ached, and he tried to relieve the pressure by pushing his pelvis into hers with short thrusts.

All of the sleepless nights he’d suffered through, racked with dreams of Chloe, wild and raw and primitive in her pleasure, sometimes fucking his father, sometimes fucking him-dreams so wrong he hadn’t even let himself jerk off when he woke up hard-had finally taken shape into this.

For once, Lex was going to take what he wanted.

He slid his hand down the rounded outline of her ass, pressing his fingers, with the slinky fabric, into the valley between the top of her thighs. Finally tearing his mouth away from hers, he sucked in a ragged breath and stared down at Chloe’s face.

Her head was leaning back listlessly, supported by the hand still curved around the back of her skull. Her lips were swollen, so dark they almost looked bruised. And her cheeks were deeply pink, a flush of response he had produced.

But her expression wasn’t what he’d expected it to be. She didn’t look overwhelmed with desire.

She didn’t even look angry.

Her eyes were knowing and bleak, and-as he stared down at her-she started to laugh. The most brittle, aching laugh he’d ever heard.

“How does it feel?” Her hands were still gripping his lapels, her body still relaxed and pliant against his. She hadn’t tried to move at all, but he could have sworn that she hated him. “How does it feel, Lex, to be your father?”

Lex’s vision blurred over as he processed her words, and he grunted. Dropped his arms so abruptly that Chloe fell back, knocking her head against the door.

“You haven’t proved anything,” she bit out, regaining her balance and standing upright, “Except that you’re willing to use me in every way, as long as doing so strikes a blow against your father.”

Lex was speechless again, and his head, his heart, his lungs, his blood, his still hard cock, his entire being, was pounding in a brutal cacophony.

“Would that satisfy you? Fucking me so that you can fuck him? At least he wants me. You just want what he has.” She still had that jaded, brittle, resigned laughter in her tone-as if there were nothing else for her to expect in the world. Nothing but this.

She shook herself off, straightening her gown and patting her hair into a semblance of order. Still frozen in place, Lex experienced a random worry that Lionel would see from her appearance what she'd been doing and make her suffer because of it.

Before she left the room, though, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “For all your noble claims of superiority, you’ll never be any better than him.”

She left. And Lex was left alone, staring blankly at the closed door.

An ache was now hammering behind his eyes, overwhelming the pounding in the rest of his body.

He stood there and thought about what he’d just done. About why he’d done it. And why he’d been obsessed with it for six weeks.

After a few minutes, Lex started to laugh in the silent room. A laugh as broken, wounded, and humorless as hers had been.

Chloe was right. About everything.

Lex would never be any better than his father.