Someone To Watch Over Me
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me.
Pain shot through Oliver. He’d stumbled backward, losing his grasp of Chloe’s hand. He heard her scream. Victor hailed him, asking for status and as he told him, he looked on in disbelief as someone or something tried to drag Chloe away through the alley behind the abandoned store. He didn’t see anything or anyone around her, but she was fighting against the grasp of some unseen force.
“….Get Chloe out of here!” he’d shouted for the others to help him as he struggled to pick himself up from the ground.
Clark was there suddenly, pulling Chloe from the grasp of the invisible being. He shoved at where he thought it was, throwing whatever or whoever to the opposite brick wall, causing garbage cans to scatter and roll.
Chloe had seen Oliver’s torn leather vest, his blood seeping though the green, as Clark grabbed hold of her. “No!” she shouted.
“Get her out of here, Clark!” Oliver ground out, as he got to his feet.
“Nooo! Let me heal him!”
Oliver saw her reaching for him, the anguish on her face tearing through his heart, before Clark sped her away, and they were gone from sight.
* * * * *
“He’s going to be okay, Chloe,” Clark assured her for what seemed the hundredth time. “AC said they were on their way back to the penthouse. We need to focus on who this mysterious invisible gunman is.”
Chloe nodded, breathed deeply, and tried to keep her focus on the computer screen, her hands trembling slightly as she typed in a few key terms to search her vast data-base of meta humans, and meteor infected. “I’ve got it.”
Clark looked over her shoulder. “Graham Garrett? No wonder he knew who I was, and about the kryptonite.” Garrett was a metahuman assassin with the ability to refract light, thus rendering himself invisible. While invisible, he could not be detected by Clark’s x-ray vision. When Clark first met him, Graham was about to be hit by a car until Clark had jumped in and saved his life.
“I thought he was dead,” Chloe mused. She remembered that Graham had tried to kill Lex, but Lex had killed him by randomly firing off rounds at the invisible man, and managing to shoot him.
“I thought so too. But everything he said adds up. It’s him.”
Chloe looked up at her friend. “So now we have an assassin turned bounty hunter? Why does he think he’ll get anything for my head?”
Clark shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. Evidently someone’s willing to pay him,” he said, wondering who would want Chloe badly enough to hire an assassin to kidnap her.
Just then AC, Victor, Bart and Oliver stepped from the elevator. Oliver didn’t look well at all, and Chloe ran to him. “Keep her away,” was all he ordered gruffly, as he strode past her to his Green Arrow room and began putting away his gear.
The group looked at one another questioningly. “Dude, take it easy,” A. C. called after him. “She’s just worried about you, lighten up, bro.”
Chloe’s eyes followed Oliver, unable to stop the flood of hurt that coursed through her body at his words. She could tell by his movements that he was obviously in pain. A.C. lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Chlo. He’s not himself right now. He’ll be okay.”
Chloe simply nodded. A.C. didn’t know that Chloe could heal with her touch, and so Oliver’s rejection was two-fold. It was not only a rejection of her, it was also a rejection of her ability.
Oliver then returned to the group, and Clark filled everyone in about the discovery they’d made about Graham Garret. Chloe couldn’t bring herself to look at Oliver, but cast him a furtive glance noting how pale he looked. Blood stained his leather vest. He needed medical attention, she was certain.
They’d agreed to regroup in the morning. Everyone made ready to leave, and Bart, after profuse apologies to her, seemed finally satisfied that she was not angry with him when she’d given him a heartfelt hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
After everyone had gone, Chloe went to her room to change into her pajamas. She didn’t understand why Oliver was acting this way. The more she thought of his behavior toward her, the angrier she became. Yes, he could be cocky at times, but he’d never treated her this way before. They’d always had an easy rapport. He’d always considered her an equal. Something was wrong, and she was going to find out. Now. They were going to settle this. Chloe stepped out of the guest room determinedly, and not caring about her current state of dress, she padded barefoot over to his room.
Oliver removed his ruined leather vest, wincing slightly. An angry streak of dark congealing blood across his right pectoral, where the bullet had grazed him deeply was revealed. Drying trails of blood covered his torso. As he tossed the vest onto the bedroom chair, Oliver glanced up at himself in the full-length cheval mirror, and saw Chloe approaching, her face etched with worry. She was wearing those blasted tiny tank top and shorts pajama combos similar to the ones she’d worn the night before. When she came near enough, she reached out for him, but he grasped her wrists before she could touch him. “Don’t.”
Chloe looked up at him, concern replaced by confusion in her eyes. “Why not?”
He didn’t want her to heal him. Because seeing her take on his pain would be more hurtful to him than any injury he could ever endure. “I’ll be fine.” He released her hands and turned toward the bathroom. She followed.
“You’re not fine. And you’ve been acting like an ass. I want to know why. You came here just for me, Oliver. And now you act as though we’re not even friends. I want to know why. ”
She was right. About all of it, but he didn’t respond, and instead reached for a cloth.
She waited a moment, crossed her arms over her chest, then continued. “I can be just as stubborn as you, you know.”
“I know. Believe me,” he said idly, as he turned on the tap, soaking the cloth under warm water, and began to wash the wound gently, causing it to bleed anew.
Chloe watched him silently as blood streaked water sluiced over his muscled chest and torso. She couldn’t understand why he continued to be aloof and distant with her. It really was not like him at all.
Oliver didn’t want her near him. Didn’t want her watching him. Not the way she was looking at him now, with concern, with caring, with hurt in her eyes that he knew he’d put there. He needed her to stay away, or… or he’d…
“That looks pretty bad. And you’re making it worse,” her voice sounded softly behind him. He lifted his head and caught her anxious gaze in the mirror.
“It’s just a scratch.”
“It is not. It looks fairly deep. Now stop being a stubborn male and let me look at it.” She stepped into the bathroom beside him at the sink.
He turned toward her, gazing down at her. “Stop being a stubborn female, and let me take care of it,” he murmured, but his voice held no conviction, and she knew it. And his eyes held no trace of annoyance, but rather something else. Emboldened by his lack of anger, Chloe stepped closer to him. She searched his eyes, surprised by what she found in their dark depths. It was unmistakable. He was looking at her with such intense longing, that it caused her own heart to ache.
Before Oliver could think to say another word, he felt her gentle fingertips on his chest, and watched in silent awe as glowing light emanated from her hands, and filled the room. Her face contorted briefly in pain, a soft gasp escaped her as she swayed on her feet slightly. Oliver’s arms came up around her, holding her steady, as her comforting warmth surrounded him, filled him, healed him. When the light had faded, his wound was gone. Chloe’s cheek was pressed to his chest, her body so close against his. She’d been weakened slightly, and he knew that if he let her go she’d fall, wouldn’t she? That’s reason he continued to hold her so tightly, wasn’t it?
Long, silent moments passed, until finally, she leaned back from him, checking the spot where the wound had been. Her hands lingered on his chest, moving over him, fingers splaying over his warm, smooth skin, the sprinkle of hair, the hard muscle. She caressed him like a lover.
He watched her, knowing full well that she’d already healed him and didn’t need to continue touching him. Just as he knew he didn’t need to continue holding her so closely.
“Chloe,” he whispered.
At the sound of his voice, she lifted her eyes to his, then gasped slightly as he picked her up and set her atop the bathroom counter. He moved between her legs, keeping her flush against him, not wanting to break contact with her. Oliver felt her breasts press against him through her thin tank top, her soft curves molding to the contours of his lean body.
“I don’t want complications, or entanglements,” he rasped softly. “I can’t do this.” But even as the words left him, his head descended, his lips nearly grazing hers as he spoke.
“Well, I don’t want this either,” she answered, her voice barely audible. But her hands slid up his broad shoulders, and up around his neck. She drove her fingers into his hair.
“You should leave, go back to your room.” But his arms wouldn’t open, and instead tightened around her, his hands roving down to the hollow of her back, pressing her even more intimately against him. “I don’t want you here.” His husky voice sent shivers down her spine. Oliver then brushed his nose against hers for a breathless moment, before his lips parted and claimed hers suddenly with savage intensity.
“I will,” she breathed against his lips, clutching him tighter, opening her mouth to accept his invading tongue, then slipping her tongue past his lips. “I’d rather be…. anywhere, than with someone… as infuriating as you,” she moaned into his mouth between increasingly fevered kisses.
Oliver growled, unable to hold back any longer. He lifted her from the counter, grasping her thighs, her legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth never left hers as he carried her to his bed and tossed her onto it, covering her body with his.
“Chloe…,” he breathed her name like a prayer, pressing hot kisses against her throat. “We should stop. Tell me to stop.”
Her fingers threaded in his hair, gripping him, pulling his head toward her, wanting more of his kisses. “No,” she panted, then sucked his lower lip between her teeth gently. “Don’t stop, Oliver.”
“Must you…. always… contradict me?” he breathed, kissing her with even more fervor. His fingers slid under the hem of her thin tank top, his hands spanning her ribs. Sliding up under the fabric, caressing her soft skin up on his way to her breasts, cupping them, molding them as though he were creating them. She felt incredible, and he wanted, needed more of her. How long had he felt this way? He couldn’t for the life of him remember, and it seemed that he’d always wanted her.
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Chloe arched her breasts into his hands, craving his touch. How long had she wanted him? Since the day she’d first seen him in Clark’s barn long ago? Chloe couldn’t remember. “If it means you’ll keep touching me, then I will always contradict you.”
Oliver smiled down at her, causing her heart to turn over, causing her to realize that she hadn’t seen that handsome grin since the night he’d come to her apartment. She’d missed it terribly. He lifted the tank top over her head, tossing it away.
Oliver moved off of her then, and lay beside her. He needed to slow down, or it would all be over before it began, and he didn’t want the first time he made love to her to be that way. Resting up on his elbow, head in his hand, he gazed down at her body as his other hand splayed over her stomach, caressing her heated skin. “So beautiful,” he murmured softly, almost to himself. Again he covered a breast, his thumb passing over a rosy, erect nipple. He lowered his head, and Chloe’s breath caught sharply, as he suckled her, taking first one, then the other nipple into his mouth. She moaned at the delicious tugging sensations, her insides whirling, aching with need for him.
He lifted dark eyes to hers, cupping her cheek in his palm, threading his fingers into her golden hair. “Then I’ll never stop touching you,” he whispered, lowering his head to capture her lips with his, this time with such tenderness, Chloe thought her heart would burst.
“I think I can live with that,” her breath hissed as his warm lips traveled to the pulse at her throat. Her arms encircled his neck, holding him close.
“Chloe,” he nuzzled her, speaking softly against her throat. “I’m sorry. For the way I’ve acted. I just… I didn’t want…”
“Shhh,” she soothed in his ear. “We have this moment now, Oliver. And I’m okay with that.”
He raised his head, searching her eyes in the dimness of his room. His favorite color, he thought randomly. Beautiful green eyes full of warmth and understanding peered up at him. Was that all he wanted from her? A moment? One night? Maybe that’s why he’d been afraid to take things any further with her, why he’d closed himself off from her, pushed her away. There could never be just a moment and nothing more with her. Complications, entanglements. He hadn’t wanted them. Too much past hurt and too many past misunderstandings, too many mistakes. But here in her arms, none of it seemed to matter anymore, and all of his reasons for keeping himself away from her, were nothing more than flimsy excuses that evaporated with her touch, and he wondered vaguely, if her ability to heal extended to emotional hurts as well.
Chloe pulled his head down toward her, kissing him once more, arching her body against his. The feeling of her soft curves and her skin against his own re-ignited his passion.
Chloe’s searching hands moved down over his leather pants. “How do you take those things off? I’ve never had to remove a codpiece before.” she quipped.
He grunted a short laugh, and got up removing the green leather pants for her, then dove back into the bed to her waiting arms. Chloe loved the way he smiled at her. The way he seemed more at ease with her now. This was the Oliver she’d missed. She wanted to touch him too, explore his body the way he had begun to explore hers. She may never have the chance to do so again and she wanted all of him, and she exalted at the male strength and beauty of him.
They were able to take their time to explore, to arouse, to give each other pleasure. And when neither one of them could endure the separation of their bodies any longer, Oliver poised himself above her between her legs resting his arms on either side of her. Chloe reached her hand between them stroking his engorged shaft once again, the tip of his manhood glistening, dripping, and ready to enter her. She guided him to her wet, slick folds, rubbing the tip up and down against her entrance, teasing them both, and Oliver groaning with need, pushed his hips forward, slipping inside her, stretching her, filling her, until he had sheathed himself inside her completely. Sounds of ecstasy escaped them both, filling the room and Oliver thought he’d come right then, but he stilled himself inside her, fighting it.
And then she was kissing him, and whispering his name, and writhing beneath him, pushing her hips against his, and he couldn’t deny her or himself any longer. He moved within her slowly at first, gently. Chloe meeting his thrusts, driving him closer to the edge. “More, Oliver.. give me more. Harder,” she urged, panting, raking blunt nails down his back, and over his buttocks. He drove into her harder, giving her everything she wanted. “Oh God!” she cried as her orgasm washed over her, rising in her like the hottest fire, and clouding her every thought.
“Chloe…,” he could barely speak, letting himself go as he shot up into her, filling her with his warm release.
He lay atop her, still sheathed within her warmth. Both of them were panting. It was incredible, the way she made him feel. He wondered why he’d ever tried to keep himself apart from her. And as he gathered her into his arms, holding her close, touching, stroking, caressing her body everywhere he could reach, until she had fallen asleep in his arms, he knew that he’d never want to keep himself apart from her again.
* * * * *
“Mr. Luthor. You’ll be happy to know that I’ve discovered Ms. Sullivan’s ability.”
“What have you found?” Lex asked, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Let’s just say that her ability is so extraordinary, that I doubt all of your wealth would cover it.”
Graham Garrett closed his cell phone. He’d heard Chloe’s plea for the Green Arrow. ‘Let me heal him,’ she’d said. Garrett wanted to see a demonstration of her ability for himself. And if she could indeed heal, well.. he would use her for his own financial gain, and had no need of Lex Luthor. Now, he simply needed a way to get her to use her powers, and a plan formed in his mind. He’d have Chloe Sullivan in his grasp soon enough.
End Chapter 5
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