4Warnings: infidelity
A/N: For my 100_tales challenge table (LJ); prompt: hours
The hotel room was nondescript; one bedroom, with a king size bed in the middle, a desk in the corner; the floor to ceiling windows gave a view of nothing but an alley behind the building, but at the very least it was clean, and the walls were soundproof, which was all that she needed.
It was a far cry from the penthouse suite at the Ritz, which is what Oliver or even the man she was about meet preferred, but that was too showy. Lois couldn't afford to be seen by anyone who knew or could recognize her. Or him.
She stared out the large window, gazing at nothing, unconsciously playing with the engagement ring on her left hand, when she heard the door click open. It could only be one person, the only other one who had access to this room.
"You're late," she remarked, without turning around.
Lois heard a deep chuckle from behind her. "And yet you're still here, aren't you?" came the answer.
She turned around, deliberately slow, raising an eyebrow. "Must be your lucky day then. Fortunately for you, I didn't have anywhere else to be."
"Last time I checked," Clark Luthor drawled, as he made his way towards her. "You asked me here." He was dressed in a dark grey pinstripe suit, and she was certain they both knew that he looked good. She wondered where he had been, or who he had been with, but that was none of her business.
Lois waited until he was reached her, refusing to take a step forward. "Didn't exactly have to twist your arm, did I?"
"You never do," Clark retorted, smirking.
Swallowing hard at the reminder and not wanting to pursue that line of conversation, she chose to tug at his tie forcing him to lean down, their lips meeting in a long awaited kiss.
Clark complied, realizing she didn't have any interest in conversing, and deepened the kiss, pulling her body flush against his, as her hands made their way to circle his neck. He felt good, he always felt too good, and tasted just right. They fit in ways she refused to think further on, but right now, she didn't want to think. It was easy to get lost in the kiss, and was able to focus on just him, as he lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist, walking them both to the bed.
Clothes fell to the floor, their bodies engaging in a now familiar dance. It was wrong, so wrong, but just for these precious hours, she could focus on him and forget everything else, the wedding plans, the stress of her life, all of that. What started out a meeting of chance and an angry one night stand when she realized her boyfriend was cheating on her with her own cousin was now something she couldn't do without, even with Chloe dead and she having accepted Oliver's ring. She never said anything then, for reasons that even befuddled her, and she had lost all moral high ground since, and all that was left were feelings tied up between anger and grief. Only more things she was avoiding.
Yet Clark Luthor was the last person she should be doing this with; he was a smug possibly corrupt asshole that she should be concentrating on taking down, but he somehow was the only one who was able to give her the release that she needed, and didn't ask any questions afterwards. And he was so good at making her forget she had anything to question in the first place.
But the guilt set in much later, as it always did, as they lay twisted in the sheets, bodies cooling from what they had done. She fought the urge to check if he had left any marks, but she was fairly certain she was safe. Clark had done it once, and she had managed to stay away from him for a whole month after that. Message received. Now, he knew better.
"Rather quiet today," Clark commented, breaking the silence, "Did my skills leave you speechless?"
"You think a lot of yourself," she muttered. "And like you care. Pillow talk isn't really your strong suit, is it? Isn't this usually the time you leave?"
"Isn't it the time you left?" he countered. "I'm sure your … fiancé will be waiting. What excuse did you give him today?"
"That would be none of your business," Lois snapped, irritation replacing the satisfaction she had felt just moments ago.
"It was, after all," Clark continued, as if he hadn't heard her, "Such a delightful surprise running into you two the other day. What were you doing again? Oh, right, cake testing. So adorable. I was surprised to hear from you so soon after that."
Pressing her lips together, she bit back a scowl. He loved drawing a reaction from her and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction, but she could tell from his expression that she had definitely failed to conceal her inner feelings completely. After all, she remembered their run in all too well, Oliver and Clark exchanging biting comments with straight faces, Ollie the more visibly agitated one, and how that conversation stayed with her hours after he had left.
"You didn't say anything," she ended up saying, the thought on her mind since they parted ways that day finally escaping.
"About what?" Clark asked.
Her cheeks heated, much to her frustration. "About anything, this. You hate Oliver, and yet you didn't even do anything to provoke him or hint that something was going on." It was her biggest fear while they interacted, and she hadn't been able to get her heart rate back to normal until Clark was long out of sight. Fortunately, Ollie was too caught up with his own hatred of Clark to even notice anything was wrong with her.
She forced herself to keep her gaze trained on him and was surprised when his gaze turned thoughtful.
"I don't like Oliver," Clark acknowledged slowly. Tracing a finger down her arm, he added, "But I'm not doing this because of him. I'm well aware if I taunt him, it will all be over, and well, where's the fun in that? I can find other ways to torment him."
Lois licked her lips, the feeling of his touch still sending shivers down her spine. "At least I know you will keep quiet."
"But of course," he said, his lips curving into a smile, blue green eyes glinting with amusement. "The secrecy is half the fun, isn't it?" Sliding off the bed, he stood up, unabashedly nude, and she tried her best not to openly admire his body, as he went toward his pants. She watched curiously as he pulled out a card and slid back into bed.
"Speaking of which," he said, handing her a card, which she accepted and was even more shocked to see a name of a catering company. "Heard you could use this. My father's third wedding was just as awful as the others, but the food was good."
"How did you-?" Lois had been talking with Oliver about having a hard time finding a caterer, but that was long after Clark Luthor had left them. No way could he have overheard that conversation.
"I have my ways," he replied smoothly.
"Why do you care?" she wanted to know.
Clark shrugged, picking at his immaculate fingernails. "I don't. But we all need ways to entertain ourselves."
"Dreaming of being a wedding planner?" she snarked.
"I'm sure I would be excellent at it," he said without hesitation. She snorted, and he just let out a laugh. It wasn't his usual mocking laugh, or smirk, and the sound felt so genuine that it resonated deep within her.
Pushing aside the feeling, she asked instead, "So do you have to leave?"
"Do you?" he challenged.
Lois wanted to keep her distance, knowing she couldn't let him have an inch, or he would lord it over her, but she found herself shaking her head. "No."
"Lucky me then," Clark murmured, leaning forward, intent clear. She allowed him to kiss her, kissed him back, releasing the business card, as he pressed her back into the bed, the passion reigniting quickly.
Losing herself in his embrace once more, she told herself this would be the last time. Just a few more hours, and she'd let him go. Return to being the perfect fiancée and hard nose reporter, not someone who screwed around with a Luthor, with a man the man she was supposed to love hated more than anything.
But deep in her heart, she knew she would always come back. They both did.
