AN: Thanks to those
of you who reviewed the first part. Please let me know what you think
of "jealous" Lois. I just couldn't resist turning the tides
on her for once and let her be the jealous one instead of him.
(I wasn't sure if "Green Eyed Monster" referred to her
jealousy or if we could start calling Lana that... since she does
have green eyes in canon and is a real monster on Smallville!
LOL!) Thanks to htbthomas, Hellish Red Devil, and silly bella
for the beta read. I really do have the best betas around.
Thanks to htbthomas, Hellish Red Devil, and silly bella for the beta read. I really do have the best betas around.
Only one man on Earth had the power to make me angry and still love him at the same time… and he wasn't even from Earth. I was jealous beyond all reason; that much was clear. He had led me to believe that I was the only woman he'd ever been with in any way, shape, or form. Up until that moment a few months ago when he had told me as much, I had assumed that at some point there had been someone else. Yet ever since then I took great pride in the fact that I – and I alone – had ever seen that lustful look in his eyes - had felt the full force of his passion. To find out now that there had been someone else, regardless of how long ago it was, made me want to scream and rip someone's hair out.
Specifically, I wanted to rip out each and every perfect strand of Lana Lang's hair.
And then this man, with his sultry voice and captivating eyes, goes and tells me that I am the perfect woman for him. That he loves me and wants only me, in spite of the fact that I'm bossy and pig-headed. He said I made him go weak at the knees. I make him feel that way, when it's been the other way around since the moment he caught me in those strong arms of his and saved me for the very first time.
Oh, how I loved him. How I've always loved him. And I couldn't stand the fact that anyone had ever even come close to loving him the way I did. He belonged to me, now and always. He'd promised as much just five days ago in front of friends and family for all to witness. He was mine… and it was time for any and all thoughts of the one who came before me to be stripped from his mind.
Like a cat catching its unsuspecting prey, I pounced on him, pushing him down to the bed and covering his face with as many kisses as were humanly possible. His face, his neck, his ear, his throat, his lips. OH! His lips! I couldn't kiss him enough.
My hands roamed over his firm chest, circling his nipples and squeezing his hard pectorals. They traveled down his sides to his solid, rippling abdomen, along the waistline of his pajama bottoms, and around his back to cup his perfectly shaped butt. I took relish in the feel of him, all the while kissing him frantically, urgently, as if life depended on it.
His hand, so large and warm, slipped under my camisole and I leaned up enough so that he could pull it over my head. His eyes were clouded over with lust and I let him have his fill, for I knew that he enjoyed my breasts – looking or touching or, better yet, both. I enjoyed it too. Very much so.
After another few moments of heated passion coupled with several ungraceful twists and turns of our bodies, we discarded the rest of our clothing and became nothing more than a tangle of limbs wrapped around each other. I kissed him with unabashed fervor, desperate to erase the memory of any kisses that had come from another source, as much for me as for him. The need I felt building up inside of me could only be alleviated in one way, and I ground my hips against his purposefully.
"You are mine," I muttered breathlessly, hoping he understood fully what I was trying to convey.
"Always yours," he confirmed in a voice just as breathless as my own. "Since the first moment I saw you."
I couldn't wait any longer. I was ravenous for his touch to complete me. Straddling his hips, I sat up and gazed down at his handsome face with such longing. Delicately, as if I would break from the force of his desire, he placed his hands on my hips and guided me into position until I could slowly lower myself down onto him. The feeling of having him inside me always made me want to cry out from the sheer pleasure of it all. I couldn't hold still. I had to move. My body demanded it of me. His eyes never left my face, and I found it wildly erotic that he was taking pleasure in watching me as my arousal intensified.
He moaned and my name fell from his lips in that way that melted my heart. The familiar tightening in the pit of my stomach built as I quickened the pace of our love-making, drawing him in and out of my body until I couldn't contain the joy I felt. I called out to him as I reached my peak and collapsed on top on his broad chest. My mouth found his and I kissed him repeatedly in love and gratitude. He held fast to me, deepening the kiss and grinding his hips against mine until he, too, fell over the edge into unbearable ecstasy.
We remained joined as one with our mouths and hips still moving together until our heartbeats slowed, and we could do nothing more than lie in each other's arms. He cradled my head against his chest and I reveled in the sensation of feeling whole and complete and perfectly sated.
After several long moments, I breathed a very raspy, "Sorry."
He chuckled. "For what?"
"For ravishing me?"
"For getting out of control."
"No apology needed. Feel free to ravish me whenever you want."
I shook my head in disbelief and planted a soft kiss against his chest.
"I think I like you when you're jealous," he added, kissing the top of my head.
Not liking the idea of him figuring me out so easily, I looked up at him and told a bold-faced lie. "I wasn't jealous."
"Oh, you weren't?"
"No," I insisted forcefully.
"Well, in that case I think I can remember the exact brand of perfume that Lana used to wear – a very light freesia scent with a hint of – Ooof!"
I jabbed my fist as hard as I could into his side, knowing that it would hurt me more then it hurt him, but I had to get my message across somehow.
"There's no need to go and hit me!" he exclaimed teasingly.
"And you have no need to ever bring up her again," I demanded.
Hoping to hide the fact that I was hurt by any of this, I buried my face against his shoulder and fought back against the emotions I was feeling. I wanted to get the image of him with another woman out of my mind, but the more I tried, the more clearly I could see it. In fact, I had seen it, several times. Every time he saved some random woman and an onlooker with a camera snapped a picture, that photo would end up at the Planet and I would eventually see it. Time after time I saw him with his arms around a woman who wasn't me. And I didn't like it one bit. How would he feel if he had to look at me in that way? What would he do if I had my arms around another man?
That's when it hit me that he had seen me with another man, and not just with my arms around him. Clark had watched me marry someone else – live with someone else – build a life with someone else. He'd probably seen Richard and I kiss hundreds of times. I didn't have the strength to even think about Clark with another woman, and yet he had seen me with another man time and time again. How had he survived watching me for all those years? I had to know, even though I almost dreaded the answer, and so I asked.
"How did you do it?" I said, feeling my eyes growing hot with tears.
"Do what?" he said, brushing his fingertips over the skin of my back.
"How did you watch me for all those years when I was with Richard?"
His hand stopped its gentle caress and I felt his whole body tense up.
"I didn't have much of a choice," he said softly.
"I couldn't have done what you did. Just the thought of you being with someone else drives me insane. Whenever a picture comes out in the paper of you with some woman that you've rescued in your arms, I nearly come undone."
"It's not as if I'm doing anything wrong," he contested.
"I know that! But it still upsets me." I leaned up on my elbows to look into his face. "I'm jealous, yes. I'll admit it. I'm jealous of every woman who knows what it's like to be in your arms – regardless of the reason they were there. It doesn't matter if you were romantically involved with them when you were in school or if you were saving their life, I still get this twinge in the pit of my gut that it should be me you are holding. I can't even fathom what it must have been like for you to see me with Richard. I mean, weren't you even slightly jealous?"
"More than slightly." There was a regretful, sad look in his blue eyes. "I was so jealous sometimes that I thought I might actually do him bodily harm. He had everything I ever wanted… and I'm not just talking about you when I say that."
"Jason," I whispered.
He nodded. "You know, I secretly waited for him to do something awful to you – something that would hurt you enough so I could actually have an excuse to hurt him in return. But he never did. You were right; he was a good man. I will always be in debt to him for how much he cared for you and for Jason."
I thought for a moment. "If you were that jealous, why didn't you fight for me?"
"I did," he said, "but you chose him over me."
"When?" I didn't believe him.
"When I first came back – that first time you and I had a chance to talk on the roof. I knew you were angry at me and I had to do something to try to make you see that I still loved you." He gave me a lopsided smile. "I also knew that you were always more susceptible to my charms after we had flown together, so I asked you to come with me."
"I said no."
"And then I begged."
"You said please," I corrected, my eyes growing wet from the memory.
"And you came with me – and it felt so good to hold you in my arms again." His voice had dropped in volume but still held its intensity. "Then, when we landed, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but you stopped me. You stopped me because of Richard. You chose him," he finished.
I recognized the hurt in his eyes, having felt the same pain just a moment ago. I never wanted to see or feel that pain ever again. I kissed him deeply, lovingly, until we were both slightly breathless.
"I know what I want to do for Valentine's Day," I mumbled against his mouth.
"And what's that?"
"I want you to take me flying."
He pulled back slightly to look at me with a hint of confusion. "Where do you want to go?"
"It doesn't matter. Just take me flying. And when we land, I want you to kiss me like you've never kissed me before. And from then on, I don't ever want to look back. No more regrets. No more hurt feelings. We move on and go forward being thankful that we're together now and that we will never be apart again."
He smiled that soft, warm smile that always made my heart melt. "Are you sure you don't want any red lace?"
I shook my head. "I'd rather have a red cape."
He smiled brightly. "What about pink champagne?"
I bit my bottom lip and thought for a moment. "How about I wear pink panties?"
His eyes went wide. "I like pink - very much."
"What about the chocolate hearts?"
I rested my head against his muscular chest. "I have the only heart I need right here." I kissed him over his heart to punctuate my point.
He tilted my chin up so that he could see my eyes. "And the sappy, romantic card?"
I shrugged. "Just write 'I love you' on a Post-it note and stick it where I can see it every day."
He laughed full out. "A Post-it note?"
"What can I say, I'm a no-frills kind of girl."
"And I love you for it."
Our mouths met again, as did our bodies, proving to each other once and for all exactly how much love we shared between us.