Never A Bride-22/2(7)

[the_bluesuede]

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



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dandiandi22

So sorry for the delay, everyone!  I've been at job training for the last couple of weeks, and frankly, the date completely slipped my mind.  Better late the never, though, right? :)
First Chapter

Previous (Chapter 21)
Next (Chapter 23)



-22-

It was getting too comfortable, Chloe realized.

It was Christmas morning, and she had woken in bed with Oliver, both of them nude, limbs intwined, bodies sore in the most luxurious way. When she'd woken up, she'd found herself compelled to plant a kiss on his shoulder. When he didn't wake, she'd began to work her way up his neck until she felt his arms tighten around her and a small groan of satisfaction escaped his lips right before she languidly kissed his lips good morning.

He'd rolled them over, running his hand along her thigh and wrapping her leg around his waist, all while she ran her hands down his back, each muscle wonderfully familiar.

"Merry Christmas," she'd whispered against his lips and he'd grinned.

"So much for staying up all night."

"You wore me out."

"We should work on your stamina."

She snorted. "As if you didn't fall asleep, too."

"True." He dragged his lips along her throat, breathing her in sleepily.

"We should go downstairs for breakfast soon. Won't your parents be expecting us?"

"They can wait. Your lips still taste like Bailey's," he said headily, kissing her more deeply.

Chloe sighed into his mouth, and her hands rose up from his back to his neck, holding him closer and it just suddenly hit her how incredibly comfortable she was. Too comfortable. Much too comfortable.

She was lying in bed naked with this man, post-coitus, and she was considering having morning sex with him like it was no big deal because they had done it before. But they weren't even together! They were pretending to be together! How far had things gone for the lie to become so fuzzy? She realized that sometimes she wasn't sure where the act left off and the reality began.

Oliver, who was far more in tune to her than he should be if they were really just fuck buddies, noticed her sudden tension and pulled away from the kiss. "Something wrong?"

"I…no. I just, um, realized I forgot to mail a Christmas card to someone," she lied. "But it's no big deal."

"Sounds like something you can easily deal with tomorrow," he said before grazing his teeth over her ear. "Or not at all."

She tried to relax; it was hard not to when he knew that trick of sucking on the spot just behind her ear. It always distracted her.

But then it occurred to her how incredibly intimate a detail that was and that it was exceptionally disturbing that he knew that.

"Stop thinking about Christmas Cards."

"What? Oh, right. Sorry."

Oliver frowned at her a little, as if just starting to realize that something other than Christmas Cards might be bothering her, so she quickly redirected him. She tried to push him off but he just rolled them back over so she was straddling his waist.

"We really should go downstairs. The last thing I want is your parents to come looking for us."

Oliver wiggled his eyebrows."I think the noise would tip them off before they ever got to the door."

"UGH!" Chloe laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting him in the face with it, his body shaking with laughter. He grabbed the pillow and pinned her beneath him again, bracing himself over her.

"You weren't embarrassed last night."

"Yes I was, but then you did that thing with your tongue," she whined.

Oliver gave her an amused look. "Which thing?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. W-"

There was a knock on the door.

"Oliver? Are you two coming down or are you going to sleep all day?"

Chloe's face turned bright red and Oliver had to bury his face in the pillow next to her to stifle his laughter. "We-we're coming, Mother. Just getting some clothes on."

"Oh, just come down as you are. Your father and I are in our pajamas."

Chloe slapped Oliver's arm as he was overcome with silent laughter. "O-okay," he choked out. "Be right down."

They listened for the sound of her footsteps padding away before breaking into laughter.

The moment of revelry was short-lived for Chloe. Soon after, she began slipping back into her worries. When had she become so complacent? How had she let Oliver into every nook and cranny of her life? She supposed, as she watched Laura and Robert unwrap one another's Christmas presents, that it was really only natural. The charade had gone on so long that they'd been forced to spend almost every waking moment of their lives together. Somewhere along the way the line between fiction and reality had blurred. When had she even stopped hating him, she wondered. She distinctly remembered thinking of Oliver Queen as the scum of the earth. And then slowly she'd stopped actively hating him and started feeling more neutral. Eventually they'd become friends and then…sex.

Sex makes everything complicated. What was I thinking? Lois and Dinah don't know as much about me as Oliver does at this point.

She shot an uncomfortable glance at Oliver, who raised his eyebrows questioningly, obviously having noticed that she seemed out of it.

And what was she doing here? She looked back to the Queens. What was she doing to these good people? Yes, she and Oliver had promised each other they'd find a way to end things amicably so they could still be friends, but would Robert and Laura ever really forgive her for jilting their son? She'd never intended to get close to his family, let alone introduce him to all of hers. She stared at the shining ring on her left hand; a Queen family heirloom. This had been meant to last one or two months and then go up in smoke to prove a point.

It was supposed to end.

And it was going to end. It might be a few months off, but it was coming to a terminus. And would they stop having sex then, too? The thought made her whole body ache and that fact alone terrified her. She didn't want to miss or need him. She was setting herself up for trouble.

But could she end it? Could she really tell him that they had to stop having sex so she could get a grip on reality? The very idea was humiliating. And she could hardly admit to herself that she really, really didn't want it to stop. She'd been practically glowing at work she felt so good about herself lately.

"And I have one more surprise, actually," Robert said, interrupting Chloe's reverie. "It's for you two, actually," he said, passing an envelope to Chloe and one to Oliver.

"Robert, what did you do?" Laura asked, looking amused.

"I don't have to tell you everything, in spite of what you think."

"What is it?" Oliver asked curiously, turning the envelope over before breaking the seal.

"Well go on. Open it!" Robert pressed Chloe, ignoring his son.

Biting her lip, Chloe broke the seal on her envelope and pulled out a couple of papers inside. There was a plane ticket to Grand Cayman and a print-out of a real estate listing.

Chloe looked up to see that Oliver was holding identical copies.

"For your honeymoon next summer," Robert said, beaming. "Turns out a friend of mine was trying to sell his vacation home, and he gave me a great deal on it. When I saw it, I knew it had your names written all over it. Consider it an early wedding present."

Chloe had never been so horrified in her life. But fortunately they mistook the tears welling up in her eyes for tears of joy. "This is really beautiful…and generous," she croaked out, a few tears leaking from her eyes and splattering on the plane ticket. She wiped them away quickly, shaking her head. "Really, it's too much…I can't…thank you."

She was the demon spawn of Satan and she was going to the deepest circle of Hell.

Oliver moved closer to her and planted a kiss on top of her hair, pulling her into a hug. "We look forward to it, Dad. Thank you," he shook his father's hand with his free one.

"Oh, Robert," Laura said, throwing her arms around her husband. "You romantic, you."

One week later Oliver was convinced there was something up with Chloe. They were at a giant New Year's Eve party hosted by one of the ritziest clubs in Star City, and ever since Christmas morning, Chloe had been acting strangely. She suddenly seemed uncomfortable around him. Just slightly. He would put a hand on her waist and she would shrink away, but then seem to remind herself that it was just him and relax again.

Part of him wondered, as he sipped on his whiskey manhattan, whether he had done something wrong. Had he gone too far in bed at some point? Or frightened her? What if I did something that reminded her of one of her exes? he wondered with a nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched her flirt idly with the bartender and replayed various scenes in his mind's eye, trying to think of a moment when he had pressed too much or pushed too hard.

It had started Christmas morning, definitely. Was she upset that he had pressured her into having sex in his parents' home? At the time, he hadn't thought it was a big deal, given that his parents' room was numerous thick walls away on an entirely separate wing of the house, but maybe she really hadn't been okay with it.

All he knew was that for the past six days he had found himself growing increasingly concerned about life post-Chloe. He knew their agreement stood until the summer, just in the nick of time to cancel the wedding day itself, but that didn't mean the physical relationship held to the same rules. That could end tomorrow, if Chloe asked. Oliver would respect her wishes on the subject. But the idea of losing what he had with her made his chest ache in a way that a suspicious part of him thought was completely unrelated to his libido.

The bartender finally pressed a bright orange cocktail into Chloe's hand and she moved away from the bar, scanning the room until her eyes settled on Oliver. Almost imperceptibly, she hesitated, and maybe no one else would have noticed it, but Oliver did. He watched her weave her way across the room until she reached him, smiling lightly.

"Some party, isn't it?"

"They'll be talking about this one for weeks," she mused, sipping her drink, eyes sparkling.

"Chloe…is everything okay with you?" Oliver finally asked.

Her brow raised. "Yes, why?"

"I just…" he frowned. "You seem really off. Are you sure?"

She quickly sipped her drink, and he couldn't help thinking she was delaying her answer. "Yes, of course."

"I don't…just…ever since Christmas, you've seemed a little distracted, that's all," he said brokenly, choosing his words carefully. "And listen, I just want to apologize if I pressured you into having sex Christmas Eve. I know you felt weird about it with my parents in the house."

Chloe placed a comforting hand on his arm, chuckling albeit ruefully. "Oliver, you didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do. And anyway, your parents were on basically a whole other wing of that mansion. It wasn't that big of a deal. Relax," she said, almost like she was telling herself the same thing. "We're good. There's nothing wrong."

Oliver wasn't entirely sure he believed that nothing was up, but the tightness in his chest ebbed a little bit. "Good," he said, pulling her in closer, glad when she didn't flinch away. "Because I expect you to finish that drink so we can dance soon." He winked at her.

There it was again, the slightest hint of hesitance in her eyes before she smiled. "Right. Gotta put on a good show, don't we?" she added.

Oliver's brow furrowed slightly. "Er…right. By the way, I'm a huge fan of whoever made whatever this thing is that you're wearing. I might have to send them a belated Christmas gift. Think they'd enjoy a trip to the Caymans?" he joked.

Chloe laughed, tipping her head back as she did so, and allowing him the opportunity to really admire the dress. Gleaming silk in a charcoal gray, it almost seemed liquid, sloping over the curves of her body in the most elegant way. One strap ran elegantly across her shoulder in an asymmetrical top, and to balance it out, on the opposite side, a seductive slit ran tantalizingly all the way up her leg, begging Oliver to slip a hand under it to caress the smooth skin of her thigh.

"Oliver, eyes on the prize, tiger," Chloe chided, noticing his heated stare and drawing his attention back upward.

"I thought they were," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, swallowing a little nervously. "How about that dance?" She tilted back the last of the martini and dragged him toward the center of the club.

Oliver supposed, looking back, it was the dance that did it. Maybe it was the music. Or the scent of her perfume. It might have been the jealous glances he was getting from nearly every man in the room, not to mention a few women. It could have been the dress. There was even a very good chance that it simply came down to the feel of her body pressed up against his, right there for everyone to see. Or really, maybe it was the fact that he'd spent a week obsessing over how things would end with Chloe.

Whatever it was, it finally sent the message home.

He didn't want it to end.

The thought was consuming, ravenously devouring every atom of his existence. He finally knew that this whole thing with Chloe, this game, somewhere along the way, it had stopped being for show. And sex…Oh for fuck's sake. Was it really ever just sex? he asked himself. From day one it had been careful and deliberate, with excessive concern for her needs. He had barely given that much consideration to his past girlfriends, never mind a friend with benefits. Chloe had always been special because he knew her history and cared so much about her well-being. She had never been a quick screw just to sate a need, in spite of what he may have implied to her in the beginning.

He wasn't sure when it had happened…emotion was funny that way. It just crept up on him. Suddenly he realized how awful the idea of waking up without her was. How lonely was his life going to be next summer if all of this stopped? All he knew was he didn't want it to get that far.

When she stopped moving, he thought for a horrible moment that she must have read his thoughts, but she was looking into the distance. He followed her gaze and the direction of her smile and saw that the fireworks had begun. She led him toward the open-air balcony of the club so they could see the sky better, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind to keep her from getting cold, but also just to hold her. He hadn't realized how perfectly she fit into him before. It was like they were puzzle pieces that someone had been trying to put together at the wrong angles. It had seemed like they didn't go together at first, but after just a couple more turns they'd found the right niche.

People started counting down and Chloe joined them. Before she could say "One," he covered her mouth with his.

Chloe, when did I fall in love with you?

He must have said more than he intended to with the kiss, because when he pulled away, Chloe's eyes were burning into him.

"Do you wanna go home?" he asked, and she nodded wordlessly. Something in his chest purred with contentment over the notion that she thought of his apartment as her home. His apartment. His bed. His body. Him.

I definitely stand a chance.

No way in hell do I stand a chance.

An internal war waged fiercely inside of Oliver all the way from the club to his apartment. It raged as he pressed her against the wall of the elevator and kissed her until she could hardly breathe. It stormed while he hiked her leg over his hip and rocked against her, making his desires quite clearly known to her. And it battled on as he carried her into his apartment and straight into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and dropping her accessories along the way. A necklace, a couple of bobby pins, her clutch…they dripped away from her like raindrops until they reached the bed.

He stripped away the liquid gray dress in one easy motion and his chest roared possessively at the sight of her exquisite body, flushed and ready for him.

I stand a chance because this is Chloe-fucking-Ann-Sullivan, and who else would she ever let see her like this? Fair skin lit with only the moonlight streaming into the bedroom, the soft curves of her breasts enticed him. The slender hourglass dip of her waist and hips begged for the touch of his hands. The only things she still wore were a pair of crystal earrings, black lace panties, and one pair of strappy gray heels.

Chloe was watching him carefully, searching his face with what could only have been suspicion because something was definitely going on with him, but he didn't care. He pulled off his bow tie and shrugged out of his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt for her.

Most days, she barely gave him a chance to take his own clothes off, either doing it for him, or distracting him before he finished. But tonight she was still, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths as she watched him remove each piece of clothing until he was naked.

Gently, he pressed her back onto his bed where she propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, and he changed his mind again.

I've got no shot. She's too good for me. Hell, I don't think anyone is good enough for her.

He wrapped his hands over one of her thighs, locking eyes with her as he lifted it slightly, dragging his hands all the way along the curve of her thigh, the pulse beneath her knee, and the smooth arch of her calf until he reached her foot, where he pulled off the shoe. He did the same to her other leg, making sure his hand grazed her panties when he started at the top again. The second shoe found the floor.

With extreme pleasure, he hooked his fingers into her panties and dragged them down her body, slipping them over her ankles before tossing them carelessly aside, eyes on hers all the while.

His gaze must have been too intense because she looked nervous, almost as if they had never done this before, and really, Oliver supposed vaguely, they hadn't. They had had a lot of sex, sure, but they both knew, Oliver hoped she knew, that this time was different.

He climbed over her on the bed, dragging his lips over her stomach and one of her breasts, up her throat until he found her lips, pressing her the rest of the way back onto the bed. Their hands met and he laced their fingers together momentarily, lifting hers up beside her head. He dipped his tongue in her mouth and languidly stroked hers, letting her know that this was what it was going to feel like tonight: slow, deliberate, overwhelming. He pulled back, and, pressing one knee between her thighs to spread them, his heart caught in his throat. Her hair splayed out, her eyes round and dark as she looked up at him, she was totally vulnerable to his every whim. Gazing at her, he was overcome with an urge to tell her he loved her and had to bite it back. Instead he ran his hands up her hips to her tiny waist, struck by how small she was, his thumbs able to meet easily across her stomach. She was starting to buck underneath him, anxious for him to stop taking so long and get to it.

He saw no need to rush.

He drew his hands up over her breasts and gently squeezed them, watching her mouth fall open and her head tip back in silent pleasure. He brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples and her back arched into his hands. Yes, more, it meant. Touch me more. Give me more. I want you.

He flicked his thumbs across them again and she whimpered softly. He pinched them gently and she whined, hips bucking forward as well now. He leaned down and sucked one soft bud into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and holding her hips down with his hands so he could enjoy himself.

"Oliver." It was half-whisper, half-moan and it was music to his ears. That's right. Don't forget who's doing this. I'm the one who makes you feel this way.

Maybe he did have a chance.

He switched breasts and the rate of her breathing increased, one of her hands fisting in the bedspread beside her head, the other tangling in his hair. As he continued his attention to her breast, his hand slipped lower before glazing over her pussy. He dipped his fingers just between her folds and found her soaking wet. Releasing her breast he pressed himself up on his forearm, watching her face twist with need and pleasure as he stroked faint circles into her clit.

There had been times when he would do this to her for an hour, fingering her as she came multiple times onto his hand. He recalled the very first time they'd been together, when it has been his tongue bringing her to climax over and over. But tonight he wasn't interested in delaying his opportunity to be inside of her. And he knew from pressing his fingers deep inside of her that she was more than ready for him. How things had changed.

He withdrew his hand and she gasped faintly, eyes opening to look for him. When they locked, both he and Chloe found themselves momentarily unable to look away. Again, as he spread her thighs still further and settled between them, he had to swallow those three treacherous words.

God, please let there be a moment when I can say them. Someday soon.

Chloe's eyes were dark with lust and her lips faintly swollen as her hand dropped from his hair and slid from his neck to his shoulder. She gripped his arm tightly when he pressed the long curve of his cock against her slick pussy, rubbing against her folds for a moment and wetting himself with her juices. Her hips bucked and she whimpered quietly, her voice full of need.

Lining himself up with her entrance, he also lowered himself along her body, the pert peaks of her breasts brushing erratically against his chest. He saw her breath hitch anxiously in her chest while he gently gripped her thigh and buried himself inside of her.

He held still and they both forgot how to breathe correctly. Oliver because he couldn't seem to open his lungs to suck in any air, Chloe because she seemed to be caught somewhere between a short series of sobs and a gasp. Pushing some hair out of her face, he leaned in to kiss her just as he pulled back and thrust into her again.

Her cry filled his lungs with air and he gently coaxed her to breathe again, lips warm and gentle against hers, as steady and painstaking as his movements in and out of her. She bucked her hips again and urged him on; her legs curled around his, one rising all the way up to hook around his back, changing his angle and attempting to cajole him. But Oliver would not be rushed. Their kiss broke and she keened, pressing her head back into the bed, eyes shut tight in fear. Fear of intimacy, fear of going to slow, of getting too close.

Panting for breath as he continued to control himself, he ran a gentle hand over the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her lips and the smooth skin of her cheek. "Hey," he murmured. "It's just me, remember? It's okay." It was a promise. He pressed into her again and she sucked in a breath. He pulled back and whispered her name. He waited until she opened her eyes and her chest unclenched. He waited until she looked at him. He brushed his nose against hers, a faint smile forming on her lips in response. He waited until she nodded. He waited until she was okay before entering her again.

Her hands rose and buried in his hair, something she knew drove him wild, and she tugged his head down. "What," she gasped, "has gotten into you?"

Heart stammering, he slipped a hand between them and began rubbing her clit, causing her head to drop back again, her fingers to tighten painfully in his hair while suddenly her body began climbing higher and higher, her back bending into him.

Still determined, he kept that same pace, hard and slow and relentless, pounding deep inside of her so that it rocked her to her very core. He knew the exact moment that she hit her climax, her body quaking and her voice cracking with dry sobs. Finally he had to pull out to get hold of himself, to stop himself before he came.

He wasn't ready to end this yet.

He didn't wait for her to realize that he hadn't come yet, but tenderly massaged her breast and ribs and stomach, hands running soothingly over her before reaching her hips. She was still coming back to earth when he gently coaxed her to roll over, pulling her back onto her hands and knees.

One hand grabbed her hip and the other slid up her chest to the very base of her throat, gently bracing her, his forearm pressed along her body. He leaned over and kissed her back before entering her this time, and she cried out at a new pitch, rocking her hips back to meet him. He leaned over her, closing most of the distance between them as he drove his cock in and out of her, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over their bodies.

Everything about her felt good. She was a perfect fucking fit and he didn't know how it had taken him so long to realize it.

He knew it was better for her like this, for a moment, to break up the intimacy of eye contact and kisses and their bodies pressed tightly against one another, but he refused to let her think this was just him fucking her. He trailed his hand delicately over her thigh, running it lower to stroke her clit again before he let his hands glide to her breasts, gently pinching her nipples so that she groaned and his name tumbled from her lips. He flicked his thumbs over her breasts and buried his shaft inside of her, and God help him, he dropped his head as he moaned her name. He felt the moment she curved her back more dramatically and ground her hips more determinedly against him. This time instead of a sudden and sharp rush, her climax was slow and dull, a drawn out aching building stronger and stronger until her body was convulsing and his hands were the only things preventing her from collapsing forward.

"Oliver!" she wrenched out. "For the love of-" she cut off as she screamed, his fingers pinching her breasts again and sending a shock through her already tightly coiled body, causing her to clench her walls around him.

This time Oliver couldn't help but come, spilling inside of her as he lost control, his breathing labored and his body shaking, eyes falling shut as he saw stars.

Chloe finally fell forward, partly, he realized, because his grip on her had loosened, and she rolled over beneath him, her chest heaving with exhaustion.

But Oliver still wasn't done.

She didn't realize it at first, thought he was tossing the decorative pillows aside and pulling back the sheets so they could curl up under them like usual, but instead when he tugged her forward, he pulled her not into his side but over him, grabbing her thighs so she straddled him and positioning her over his mouth. She barely had the foresight to grab the headboard before she felt his tongue plunge inside of her and her head tipped back in a scream. She tried to resist but couldn't help grinding down against him. His hands gripped tightly on her thighs to keep her in check as his tongue raked over her, lapping at her mercilessly. Then he sucked on one of her pussy lips and she practically sobbed, her knuckles growing white as she gripped tighter on the headboard. He rolled her flesh against his tongue before switching sides, his lips soft and warm on her hot folds. He licked her again before changing the angle of his mouth slightly and licking her clit. She screamed his name, and he knew he was getting her close again. The sound of her cries had him starting to get hard again. He flicked his tongue across her clit in deft strokes, his fingers gripping her tighter the more she lost control. Finally he closed his lips over that little bud and sucked on it, sending her crashing down from the the cliff on which she'd been so precariously perched. He licked her again, tenderly, gently, cradling her way back to earth as she whimpered desperately. Slowly, he guided her way back down his body, lowering her until she was level with him, eyes desperately searching his to find out what was going on in his head, but quickly distracted when he kissed her and she could taste herself on his tongue and lips. She groaned when her hips rocked back and she felt his newly hardened erection rub against her.

"Oliver," she murmured.

"We can stop," he said gently. It was almost a lie, but the truth was, any time she said the word, no matter how much he didn't want to, he would end it for her.

And he wasn't just thinking about sex.

But Chloe vaguely shook her head, barely even coherent, her whole body soft and light with pleasure. She let him guide her hips back and slowly lowered herself onto him, sucking in a ragged breath as her faintly aching body protested. She tried to sit back, but Oliver pulled her forward, bringing them so close together he could lean up and kiss her if he chose to.

Then, with that same deliberate slowness he guided her up before bringing his hips up to meet her. Chloe might have wanted to quicken the pace, to battle with him, but she was already too spent and as much as the intimacy of what he was doing made her nervous, he made slow and drawn-out feel way too good to even consider stopping him.

Over and over again she pressed down on him and he rose up to meet her, and her clit rubbed against him and he grunted with pleasure from being so completely sheathed inside of her. Without any strength left to hold herself up, she buried her face in his neck and continued grinding down on him, no energy left with which to moan, but instead reduced to silent gasps of satisfaction.

This time they came together, both of them finding their way to the edge of a cliff, grabbing hold of one another, and finally hurling themselves over the edge, clinging to one another for dear life as their bodies went tumbling through the air.

Chloe collapsed against Oliver's chest, her face still buried in his neck, but her eyes wide with fear. What have we done? she wondered. What have I done?

Similarly, Oliver's eyes were open as well, staring at the ceiling as he bridled his emotions, arms wrapping tightly around her, to keep her from getting any ideas about pulling away. But rather than worrying about what they had done, Oliver was worrying about what they were going to do, and whether she was ever going to realize that she was in love with him, too.

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