Never a Bride-17/?
Author: BlueSuede
Title: Never a Bride
Rating: NC17
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairings/Characters: primarily Chloe/Oliver
Summary: When a newspaper prints a false engagement announcement for Oliver Queen and Chloe Sullivan, and all their friends are thrilled, Chloe and Oliver decide to stage a fake engagement and breakup to prove to their friends how wrong they are for one another. Because, they will break up, won't they?
Warnings: completely Alternate Universe; also, sexual content and occasional language
banner by
dandiandi22
PLEASE READ.
Hi, Everyone. I realized that I left an author's note on my livejournal last month, but not on FFN. So just to make a general PSA about this story:
As always, I am participating in National Novel Writing Month in November. I am also really busy with work at the moment. Because of that, I am sandbagging updates to this story a little bit, and will be posting them approximately the 15th of each month. If I can start posting more frequently, you'll be the first ones to know! :) I know that a month at a time is a really long time to wait (for you and me both!), so I encourage you to follow the story on FFN so that you can get an e-mail update when a new chapter goes up.
And now, a brief comment on chapter 17. (Minor spoiler warning here, although I suspect you all know what's coming.) To warn you ahead of time, this chapter and the next are NC17, and I'll be honest, I still don't feel like either are ready for publishing. I have been over this chapter as well as chapter 18 again and again (although I'm sure I still have some typos), reworking and rewriting them, and even though I've written smut before and not felt weird about it, I think the reason that this chapter feels off to me is that it's not just PWP, I really wanted the sex scene(s) to serve a purpose in the plot overall and the character development, and I hope that that is clear in the next few chapters. It might be sexy, but it's also meant to feel, well, uncomfortable for both the characters and the reader. I don't know why I feel like I have to mention this, if I'm defending my writing or bracing you, my reader, or just trying to explain the intention because I'm worried it's not clear enough. Regardless, I wanted to say something.
And with that rambling, preface, please enjoy.
Sincerely, Blue
First Chapter
Previous (Chapter 16)
Next (Chapter 18)
-17-
Oliver's hands felt so good. How did he do that? How did he know exactly what would turn her on and drive her crazy? The backs of his fingers were trailing up her arm and she was actually panting for breath.
Or maybe that was just because it was hot and she'd been dancing all night. She couldn't be sure. What she could be sure of was that she didn't like the other women in the room who had been looking at Oliver when he walked in. But she had taken a certain pleasure in the moment when he walked up to her, turned her around so her back was flush to him and started grinding to the music with her. And she'd even allowed herself the fun of reaching up behind her to slide a hand over his shoulder, prominently flashing the engagement ring at them. It was fun to be the girl in the club who had claim over the hottest guy there. It almost gave her a small rush of power knowing other women couldn't have him because he was there with her.
Her mind flashed vaguely to the guy who had danced with her downstairs. It had been fun but awkward. He was clearly scared to get too close to her because he knew she had an alleged fiancé lurking somewhere, and she wouldn't have wanted him to get to hands-y even if she hadn't. As a matter of fact, she allowed her eyes to scan the room momentarily, there wasn't a single other man there that she wished she could be dancing with instead. Lois, if she knew that Chloe wasn't really engaged to Oliver, would probably explain that it was because Chloe was friends with Oliver. She was close to him, so she felt comfortable with him. When a stranger touched her, it was creepy, cause for alarm. When Oliver touched her it was welcome because she trusted him.
"And because you've got the hots for him," Lois would finish. Because I mustn't forget that Lois is completely insane. Chloe rolled her eyes to herself and leaned into Oliver, resting her head against his shoulder.
God I want sex, she thought miserably. I do. I've been avoiding it for years but I miss it. Sex with Jimmy was good. It was nice feeling wanted and loved. "My buzz is wearing off," she said aloud, suddenly feeling uncomfortable inside her own head.
Oliver nodded. "What do you want?"
She ran a hand through her hair, mourning the loss of his touch when he stepped away. What did she want? She wanted a boyfriend, maybe even a real fiance. She wanted the "really good, toe-curling, earth shattering sex with someone who cared about her and wanted to make her feel good" that Oliver had talked about a week ago. That statement, his whole speech about wanting to see her end up with a good guy, had been replaying over and over in her head every night since he left. "A beer. Any beer. Just make it cold," she said.
Oliver nodded and headed to the bar across the room. She looked around her at the gyrating forms, pressing slowly in on her and closing the gap that Oliver had left. Everyone in that room smelled of lust and sweat. And most of them were probably going to get laid that night. She hated it. Why did she have to be the one with a history? The screwed up one who couldn't keep it together? Why couldn't she just be the kind of person who picked up a random stranger in a bar and went home with him and got laid?
Not that that was strictly safe…but look at Oliver. He played the field. Or whatever people called it. He had sex with any number of women, some that he was in a relationship with and some that he just took home for the night and it was-
She shook her head, suddenly very displeased with the thought of Oliver with all those women.
Someone came up behind her and started dancing with her and she tensed. What was it with men? Why was this acceptable behavior? It wasn't the first time she'd been out dancing and some guy had just grabbed her by the waist and started grinding against her. Even Oliver had had the decency to approach her from the front before spinning her around, his way of asking permission for the dance. Was it that difficult? She'd always felt that men who did this were taking away her choice. By approaching her from behind and just dancing with her they weren't giving her a chance to reject them, which they obviously must have been expecting or they would have the social skills to introduce themselves first. Seriously, was it that hard to at least give her the courtesy of a little eye-contact first?
She was making up her mind how best to pull away from his tight grip on her hips when she spotted Oliver's blonde hair over the crowd. She raised her hand in the air to draw his attention. He paused when he saw her dancing with someone, but she gave him a pleading look and he was at her side almost instantly-an impressive feat given the density of the crowd.
Oliver switched one of the beers in his hand so they were both laced between the fingers of his left hand. He reached Chloe, and pressed his free hand firmly against the other man's chest, pushing him back from Chloe. "She's with me," he said loudly, giving him a look of warning.
The guy sized up Oliver and seemed to decide arguing wasn't worth it. He faded into the crowd and Oliver scanned Chloe. He offered her one of the beers and mouthed, "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah, fine." She took a deep, long swig from the beer, the condensation dripping down her hand. He watched a bead of sweat roll down her temple.
"Let's go downstairs," he suggested. It was less crowded there, and cooler.
She nodded.
Downstairs Oliver glanced at his watch. They'd been there for hours. "'bout ready to leave?" he asked her.
She looked at him gratefully. "Yeah." She stood from the bar stool and swayed. His hand shot out to steady her.
"Easy there," he chuckled.
"This is your fault," she whined. "Even Lois knows better than to let me have tequila."
He smirked. "But you're so much fun when you drink it," he teased, shooting a text message while he spoke. "Car's on its way. Bottom's up," he added, chugging his beer.
She followed suit, gulping it down, grateful for the cold liquid cooling her off even as it clouded her head further.
Inside the plane, Chloe sunk gratefully into a seat.
"So did you have fun?" Oliver asked, joining her as the plane took off.
She looked at him. His expression was all too cocky. She heaved a big sigh. "I guess. I mean, it was a little tame. I expected there to at least be strippers," she joked.
Oliver lifted an eyebrow at her. "Have another shot of tequila. You'll probably be doing a strip tease in no time."
"I bet you don't think I would."
"I would never underestimate you, Sullivan," Oliver said tiredly, leaning his head back on the seat and closing his eyes. The plane took off and a moment later he felt Chloe get up next to him, probably for a drink, hopefully of water. But then something hit him in the face. He opened his eyes in surprise as it dropped to the floor. "Chloe, what are you doing?" he asked nervously. She was standing there in just that strapless bandeau bra and jeans, pouring herself a glass of water from the mini bar, trying to stay steady on a plane that hadn't yet leveled out. They hit a minor bump. "You should probably sit down."
She laughed. "I'm hot." She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes twinkling with mirth. "I bet you didn't think this night would end with me with my top off."
Oliver shook his head, trying to clear his foggy brain. Skin. There was too much skin. What was it about her skin that made him want to taste it so badly? "Well, my expectations were surpassed a while ago. That was quite the little move you made on my neck earlier."
She laughed again, blissfully uninhibited. "Yes, I'll have to file that one away to use on someone else someday-"
A rush of heat flashed through Oliver, and he took a slow, steadying breath. She doesn't belong to me. It's just a crush. She doesn't belong to me. This whole thing is an act.
"-assuming I'm ever with a guy it would actually work on, anyway."
Oliver frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
She gulped some of the ice water before answering. "Oh, you know, just that it's wasted on you, obviously."
"I think I resent that."
She laughed. "Oh, Oliver, honestly!" she chided.
"Well, how come it's wasted on me?"
"Well, I mean, obviously you're not attracted to me," she said like it was so obvious, a known fact.
"Says who?"
She looked confused.
"Seriously."
"Well, Oliver…."
He was standing. "Who says I don't find you attractive?" he asked. Why was he standing? He should be sitting. The hell am I doing?
"Well, I mean, you don't," she said matter-of-factly.
"Chloe, I've told you before that you're completely gorgeous."
A look of relieved understanding flashed across her face. "Oh, Oliver, I'm not putting myself down. I know you think I'm good looking and that's sweet. But you can find someone attractive without actually being attracted to them."
He was getting closer. "Chloe." He pulled the glass of water from her fingers and set it carefully on the counter behind her. "Who says." He stepped closer. "I'm not attracted to you."
"You-I mean we-I-" she fumbled for words. Her entire body felt like it was slowly catching fire she was so warm, hairs on the back of her neck standing on end the closer he got.
"We might not really be together, Chloe, but I am definitely very attracted to you. Do you know how hard it is living with you sometimes? Running around in that little silk robe of yours? The look on your face when you drink coffee that's practically sexual? The way your leg curls around mine when we fall asleep together? Fuck, Chloe, I can hardly stand you sometimes."
Chloe was blinking rapidly, trying to compute the information he was giving her. "Oliver. You don't have to make this shit up. I don't need a confidence boost."
"For the love of God, Chloe!" He grabbed her hips and hauled her against him. She gasped when she felt his erection pressing against her stomach. "Do you think I'm immune or something? I'm a man, for God's sake! And you've been flirting with me all night like it's this game which is completely fine because I do it to you all the time, and it doesn't have to mean anything, but if you think it doesn't affect me then you need a serious reality check!"
Chloe was staring at him, a deer frozen in the headlights as she breathed heavily, not sure what to say. Oliver looked right back at her. Shit, part of him was saying.Way too far. I just went way too far. Holy shit she's going to claw my eyes out. But he couldn't seem to let go of her to back away that one necessary step.
And then Chloe did something wholly unexpected. She grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down to her, bringing his lips to hers in one raucous movement. And with no one around, no witnesses to prove anything to, they kissed. The plane hit a patch of light turbulence and their lips broke apart. Oliver grabbed the mini bar behind her to steady himself, his body pressing further into hers. Chloe clutched him tighter so she didn't topple over, her stomach dropping when the plane hit another light bump. "How long is this flight again?" she gasped.
"Not long enough." He turned her face back to him and kissed her again. She tasted like tequila and lime. She smelled like sweat and she felt like silk. Her skin was so soft he wanted to touch every part of it. He sucked on her bottom lip and then deepened the kiss, parting her lips and sliding his tongue inside her mouth. He raked his hands over her back, and she shuddered. She was always doing that, trembling when he touched her. How much stronger would that reaction be when he really touched her?
Because it was going to happen now. Something in him knew. If it wasn't tonight then soon, he was going to touch her in every way possible for as long as she would let him.
The pilot came over the intercom and warned them that it was probably going to be rough most of the way back due to some weather, but that he was trying to find smoother air for them.
"In the meantime, you folks should probably take your seats to be safe."
Safe, the word echoed in Oliver's head. There was nothing safe about this. She was quite possibly the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him and her fingers were combing through his hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. The plane dropped a little and she fisted her hands in his hair, like gripping him would somehow keep her from falling out of the sky. Another bump had him accidentally crushing her into the bar for a moment, his groin pressing into her and hardening enough to make him catch his breath and her groan.
"How are we getting home?" Chloe asked breathily, trying to slow them down. "You're too drunk for that motorcycle."
"We're both too drunk for that motorcycle," he agreed. "There's a car waiting, I've already scheduled it." There was another patch of light turbulence and Oliver grabbed her hips with one hand and a handle on the wall of the plane to keep them both from falling. "We need to sit down,' he breathed, backing them toward the seat. They stumbled as they moved before sinking into the soft leather seat, Oliver pulling Chloe onto his lap where he began kissing her neck sensually. Chloe moaned.
"How long?" she asked again, and he knew she meant the flight. Her impatience was making something inside of him ravenous. He thought about how long it had been since he last had sex with a woman…about how much longer it had been since she'd been with a man and he found he, too, was roaring with impatience.
"Not long enough," he repeated, he slid a hand up her side and brushed his thumb over her breast, swiping it across her hardened nipple beneath the fabric of that damned bra.
She all but spasmed beneath the touch. "Seriously!" she asked.
"About fifteen more minutes to descent," he said, repeating the movement.
She let out a moan, her expression almost pained. "Fifteen minutes-"
"-is not enough time for what I'm going to do to you," he replied firmly, sliding his other hand up to attend her other breast.
She gasped, muttering the math, "Fifteen minutes plus another fifteen in the car to get home."
"Not," Oliver repeated, "long enough."
She shook her head. "Too long." He kissed her for that, free hand sliding around the back of her neck while he continued rubbing circles over her nipple with his thumb. She was squirming, frustrated and unable to steady her breathing. "What are we doing?" she managed to ask into his mouth.
He hesitated before answering. "Taking care of each other."
Her forehead was pressed against his and her eyes were closed.
"As friends. If you want to."
She was quiet for the longest second of Oliver's life before nodding. "I want to."
Half an hour and one feverish car ride later, Oliver was half-carrying Chloe into his apartment. He pulled back from her momentarily and looked her squarely in the eye. "Chloe-"
"I'm sure. I'm so sure." Please, she begged him in her mind. I need this.
He was still hesitating. "You're drunk. I'm drunk." Because he was. He most definitely was still feeling the 9 shots of tequila they'd both had throughout the course of the night. Three trays of six. Ending with Chloe licking his neck. What were they setting in motion here?
"As friends," she reminded him of his own words on the plane. "That's it. Just…meeting needs. You can't tell me it hasn't been killing you. And it's going to be months now."
It didn't register that she was saying he would have to wait months to be with anyone else. It didn't matter. She was the only option. His excuses were dwindling. And his lust was overpowering. Am I going to do this? he wondered. Am I? Oh hell with it, of course I am. But I'm doing it right. For her sake. If Chloe truly hadn't had sex in years, then he was going to make sure the first time she was really with a man again was better than a drunk fuck with a friend.
He guided her down the short hallway toward the bedroom, leading her with soft, tantalizing whispers of kisses that pulled back too quickly, willing her lips to chase his as he backed them both down the hall. He fumbled the door open and dragged her inside with him.
"Take off your shoes," he instructed as he buried his face in her neck, licking and nipping and sucking on every inch of it.
She did as she was told and toed off the shoes. Oliver's hands slid up her thighs and over her ass. He grasped it tightly and she gasped, bucking forward involuntarily. He groaned into her neck when her body rubbed against his. He wanted her so badly it was painful. But he had to control himself.
"I want you," he murmured between open-mouthed kisses to her throat, "in the bed."
She moaned. "I don't think my legs are going to make it that far," she whined. In truth her thighs were so tense right now she couldn't imagine moving. She felt like one more touch might make her shatter, and she desperately wanted to try it and see. Oliver's large hands dragged over the back of her thighs, hiking first one leg over his hip, and then the other. She obediently wrapped her legs tightly around him and allowed him to carry her over to the bed, feeling the bulge in his jeans press against her core.
He climbed onto the bed, laying her down beneath him as he did. Hovering over her he tried to steady himself before pulling his shirt over his head. She swallowed at the sight of him, a dozen fantasies she'd never admit to suddenly flashing through her mind's eye. He removed her halter top and unzipped her jeans, pulling them off next, leaving her in just her underwear. He leaned down to kiss her provocatively, grinding his cock against her so she could feel how hard he was, what she was doing to him. He did it again and again and Chloe was practically weeping from being teased, her head falling back and her eyes squeezing shut, imagining all too easily what it would feel like to have him inside of her. She arched her back toward him, her breasts raking against his chest through the fabric of her bra. She wanted him to take it off.
A wish that was soon granted. Oliver had no patience for the slip of fabric standing between him and those breasts. Pert and soft and a perfect fit to his hands. He cupped them gently and flicked his thumbs across her nipples like he'd done on the plane. Her whole body shook and a whining noise escaped her throat.
"Oliver, please…."
Please what? Fuck her senseless? He was seriously considering it. Maybe eventually he would. But not tonight. He dipped his head down and took one of her breasts in his mouth and sucked on it, swirling his tongue over the peaked bud. She cried out, slipping a hand into his hair and grasping it tightly. Her thighs tightened around him, drawing him closer to her, but he didn't stop. He kept right on sucking and licking at her breast, tending the other with his fingers while she whimpered beneath him. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. And her breasts were perfect. He released her nipple with a faint pop before swooping in on the one opposite it, his other hand rising to tend the one he'd just abandoned. He closed his eyes, laving her with his tongue and savoring the feeling of her fingers knotted in his hair. If this was how she reacted to the simplest of touches, how would she respond when he finally brought her to orgasm? He couldn't wait to see her completely fall apart.
She was writhing when he finally released her second breast and began trailing kisses down her stomach, pausing to dip his tongue in her navel.
She was wearing a pair of yellow boy shorts trimmed in lace and he seriously considered tearing them off of her but decided against it. So instead he left them on for a moment, running his finger gently over her folds through the soft cotton. She shook, bucking her hips from the sensation. He closed his eyes, taking another steadying breath. Damn it. Make this easier for me, woman. Why did they have to be drunk? If they weren't both completely inebriated it might be different. He glanced up at her and his jaw tensed. She still looked like she wanted him. She hadn't changed her mind. But he could see what she was trying so desperately to hide. She was scared.
He held her gaze and pressed a soothing kiss to the soft inside of her thigh. It's okay, Chloe, he willed her to understand. I'll only go as far as you need.
He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slowly moved her legs beneath him to remove the superfluous material before spreading her legs again. He caressed her legs warmly, sliding his hands up her calves and gently grazing the sensitive skin beneath her knees. He moved up her thighs before raising her hips up to him and dipping his head down to lick her slit.
Chloe's breathing all but stopped. Until the last moment she had genuinely expected to have him inside of her. They were both so eager, so ready…what was the point of foreplay? Confusion was soon driven from her mind when he found her clit with his mouth. Pressure, suction, heat, friction, she couldn't handle it. She had already been so worked up it was a matter of minutes before he brought her to the brink, his moans of pleasure as he licked her the final straw.
He wanted to stop and watch this, to watch her, the woman who never let anyone touch her, figuratively or literally, come undone because of him of all people. But he was determined. He didn't stop, sucking on her clit and massaging her hips encouragingly as she came. And he kept right on going. Chloe gasped raggedly when she felt his thumb teasing her entrance, rubbing over the slick juices there and playing with her folds but never dipping inside like she wanted.
"Oliver," she gasped out, pleading. Couldn't he just get it over with?
Little did she know that was exactly what he didn't want. If she was going to finally bring her walls down for someone, he didn't want her to be 'getting it over with.' Chloe Sullivan's sexual reawakening was going to be long, drawn out, and totally worth the wait, not a couple of drunks who couldn't control their urges.
He kept on pleasuring her with his tongue and lips and fingers until she came again, this time more exaggerated than before. Her body was giving up, depleted of energy, and totally surging with pleasure. She was actually quaking beneath him, and even though he knew he wasn't getting everything he wanted this time, he couldn't help smirking. Just wait, Chloe. It only gets better from here. And after all, the only thing better than your own pleasure was someone else's, so he brought her to climax a third time, throwing an arm across her stomach to help hold her steady for him as she tried to arch off the bed. She seemed to like his thumb teasing her entrance, so he abandoned her clit for a moment to explore that. He sucked one of her labia into his mouth and very gently sank his teeth into the flesh. She actually groaned, barely enough energy left in her to grip the bedspread. He moved to the other side and repeated the action. She was biting her lip to keep from crying out again. No sense in that. He dipped his tongue just slightly inside of her and was rewarded when her mouth fell open and she didn't have a voice left. All she could do was drink in the air.
He closed his eyes. She was remarkable. And she was nearly spent. "Not yet, Chloe," he whispered, and the words barely registered in her mind. She heard her name and that was all, no room for cohesive thought in her head. He was so good it hurt, physically hurt her body. He had returned to sucking on her clit and she didn't know how to tell him that she couldn't come again. It was too much. She could see a white light in the corner of her eyes.
Oliver willed her there, it was the only explanation. When she came the fourth and final time she was quaking, sobbing her pleasure. He was stricken when he looked at her and saw actual tears in the corners of her eyes. He closed his own for a moment, swallowing tightly. He was going to have to handle everything from here on out very carefully. He rose slowly up her body and ran his hands over her, trying to sooth her limp body. He brushed one of the tears away with the back of his hand and kissed away the other.
Suddenly it was almost easy to forget his own needs…almost. This had been worth it. He shifted away from her to strip off his jeans, releasing a harsh breath when his cock was given a little more freedom. He dropped his head and his jaw ticked as he tried to make himself stop wanting it. No such luck. But he still crawled back over to her and slipped them both under the covers, pulling her toward him. She went willingly in her state, but he had release a shaky chuckled when even now she still curled naturally into his side, hooking that damn leg of hers around him. She kissed his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head, running a hand down her back.
It was going to be one hell of a morning.
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