Friends
Written by Amazonia V
Chapter 28:
Where had the time gone? Lois sat at her dressing-table, regarding her reflection in the mirror. What was she going to do about her relationship with Bruce? How long would she continue this strange relationship that they had, seeking one another only for physical release?
Bruce was a wonderful man to bed, sensitive, unselfish and thorough. But Lois was always left with a nagging feeling that she was nothing more than a moment's diversion to him.
It was probably fortunate that he had been away for much of the last week. Bruce had arrived back from the latest trip only this morning, and after sleeping until lunchtime had spent the afternoon checking the installation of the very sophisticated computer and communications systems that had been installed while he was away. Lois had arrived as his house-guest while he was away, but had yet to meet Bruce.
Rising to her feet, she checked her reflection a last time.
The door of the drawing-room stood just slightly ajar; music was playing—the soft, smoky blues sound of jazz—and the subtle glow of one of the silk-shaded lamps spilled out into the hall.
Lois hesitated, not sure—now that she was here—that she wanted to go through with this after all.
"Why don't you come in?" Bruce's voice held a note of sardonic humour; he couldn't see her, but he must have heard her come downstairs.
She pushed the door open a little further. He was lounging in one of the big, comfortable sofas, his long legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle, a tall glass of clear water in his hand. Across the room, those deep-set blue eyes regarded her with faintly mocking amusement.
"Good evening," he greeted her cordially. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Having trouble sleeping?"
"A little," Lois conceded, the tension that was knotting inside her betrayed in her voice.
"Why don't you get yourself a drink?" he invited. "It might help."
Lois shrugged her slim shoulders and crossed the room to the drinks-cabinet, which stood open. She slanted him a glittering glance from beneath her lashes. "You know we can't continue a relationship like this." she responded tautly. "It's time to take a decision."
"Is that so?" was his cool retort, watching her over the rim of his tumbler as he downed a huge sip of water. "Funny—there've been times I've received the distinct impression that you quite enjoy it."
Lois had poured herself a careful single measure of cognac, but on second thoughts topped it up to what must have been at least a triple—tonight she needed a little artificial support for her courage.
"Did you?" she ground out, moving to the sofa opposite him and tucking her feet up beneath her. "That doesn't surprise me. You're a wonderful lover, Bruce and very expert in arousing a woman."
This time Bruce's laughter held genuine amusement. "Are you trying to tell me that you haven't enjoyed our...encounters?" he challenged provocatively. "Forgive me, but that's pushing my credulity a little too far."
She could feel the warmth of a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Oh, I won't deny that on a certain, purely physical level... But it's about as meaningful as eating a strawberry sundae—a few minutes' pleasure, but no real satisfaction."
He lifted one dark eyebrow in quizzical amusement. "An interesting simile. But then you've barely tasted the ice-cream yet. Wait till you've tried the fruit—you might find its sweetness positively addictive."
She gave him a coolly level look. "I doubt it. This is going to be no more than a business transaction. That's the way you wanted it, isn't it?"
"More or less," he concurred, a faintly grim smile curving that hard and beautiful mouth.
"Good." She tipped back her glass, the cognac hitting the back of her throat like fire as she drained it in one gulp. "Then there doesn't seem to be much point in prolonging the inevitable? Let's agree to go our separate ways."
She rose to her feet a little unsteadily. The music was soft and sensuous, a husky tenor saxophone, and she let its languorous notes seep into her, mingling with the hot alcohol in her bloodstream to drug her mind. Perhaps, one more time…
Bruce hadn't spoken; he was lounging back in the sofa, totally relaxed, waiting silently to see what she would do next. Slowly—very slowly, her body swaying with the rhythms of the soft, sweet jazz—she moved towards him, her eyes glittering beneath her lowered lashes. And then, with a boldness she had doubted she could possess, she stepped across his outstretched legs, confronting him with wanton invitation.
She was close enough for him merely to lift his hand to touch her, but he didn't—he took another sip of water, only the glint of his eyes telling her that he was amused by this reversal in the role of seducer. But now that she had started this, some kind of ancient instinct had taken her over, drowning out all trace of inhibition, urging her on.
As she took the glass out of his hand and set it down on the low table beside him he quirked one eyebrow in quizzical inquiry, as if he still half believed that she wouldn't dare finish what she had started. A small smile, born of a certainty that she would, curved her soft mouth, and she moved forward again to kneel straddled across his lap, her fingertips resting lightly against his chest.
She could smooth the fine cotton of his shirt aside, feel the thrill of touching him, of sliding her palms over the warm, hair-roughened contours...
With a low, hungry moan she leaned forward, bending her head to press her parted lips against the hard line of his collar-bone, breathing deeply of the subtle musky scent of his skin. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, strong and steady, but when she slanted a swift glance up at him she saw that he had closed his eyes, and knew that he wasn't entirely indifferent to what she was doing.
He let her kiss him, let her probe her tongue into the corners of his lips, let her coax her way in to challenge his own to battle. And then abruptly he took control, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her captive, the other sliding down over the smooth curves of her body.
Now he was kissing her with a fierce demand, his tongue plundering deep into the sweet, defenseless valley of her mouth, taking all that she had offered and more, taking her down to the carpeted floor.
She couldn't think any more. She was melting in a warm, honeyed tide of response, drowning in it, her body moving beneath his in a slow, languorous, erotic rhythm as the sweet aching rapture coiled inside her, her blood heating to a fever that was making her dizzy and delirious, until she heard her own voice sobbing in agonized need, and her body arched to meet the urgent thrust of his as he pounded into her, hard and fast.
The pure, primitive pleasure had taken hold of her, sweeping away any hint of restraint. They were well-matched—her fingernails digging into his back as his teeth raked her smooth shoulder, their bodies locked together, slipping over the edge, collapsing against each other in the quiet, elegant drawing-room as the last haunting notes of the saxophone died away.
But a sliver of sanity returned to Lois even as Bruce's assault on her senses died down, allowing coherent thought again. She knew that all Bruce wanted was her body. She had to keep him wanting her—until, maybe one day, the wanting could grow into something more...
Except that it wouldn't, she reminded herself honestly—he wasn't looking for a marriage of domestic bliss.
Bruce Wayne wanted her for one thing only—he had made that perfectly clear.
And Lois decided in that instant it would have to do. This physical attraction she felt for him was like a drug to her senses. She would play it out till the end.
Superman was beginning to regret that he had accepted Connor's invitation to train with him. How could he have known that Connor would be training on Themyscira. He hoped that Diana would be there. Now that her mother had approved their relationship, he saw no reason not to kiss her at every opportunity he got. No, do more than kiss her...if he got her alone, he would lick her deliciously in all the places she loved his tongue to roam...
Superman blinked, his composure thrown. Great Rao! What had Connor said to him? How could he have stopped paying attention?
Connor was smiling at him, "I fear I'm a bit nervous."
"Why?" asked Superman.
"I have never faced the Amazons before."
"The Amazons?" All of them? On Themyscira? Disquiet tingled at the base of his skull. How in Rao's name had he agreed to this? Did Connor know that the one of the rules of training was the abdication of non-mortal powers? Super powers were not allowed. Just skill and strength and stamina. That was the Warrior Code that the Amazons lived by.
He was beginning to suspect there were details about this training session that Connor had omitted, details that were going to make his life even more complicated by the time he was done.
"I have" Superman said now. "They are a formidable lot. Well trained, they give no quarter. They expect that one does not use super-powers and we will not use ours."
The younger man's eyes twinkled. "How will they stop us?"
"By rendering us helpless through the use of a magic arena in which the training will take place. And we will use all manners of weapons. The weaponry will be harmless for it will shatter on impact."
"I hope you're good with a sword," Superman called over his shoulder, grinning, as he flew towards Themyscira.
Connor smiled back grimly. Good with a sword? What had he let himself in for?
Kal stood in the middle of Themyscira's enormous practice field with his arms crossed self-consciously over his chest. Without the blue and red body suit that he wore as Superman, he was happy to be simply Kal. And though he felt a little self-conscious in these practice clothes, with just a loin cloth, bare-chested, he was also a little proud of his physique. And glad. Glad that he had spent many long years working out with Kryptonite machinery and developing bulges where there should be bulges.
He'd drawn the glances of many women in his lifetime as Superman, but none to match the scrutiny to which he was now subjected. Connor watched from the perimeter of the field, garbed similarly. Kal was to be the first to spar.
Around Kal were gathered all the premier Amazon guards – those of Themysciran origin and of the Bana-Mighdal, too. These were the women that Diana called sister. Among them stood Cassie and Donna. Of Queen Hippolyta and her eldest daughter, there was no sign.
In front of him stood Phillipus, the Queen's General, and Artemis, leader of the Bana. Kal had met her before. She was reputed to be a fierce warrior who gave no quarter to anyone, least of all to any man. She was beautiful, with her emerald eyes, wild tresses, and generous breasts. Were it not for the armor and the menacing swords buckled about her hips, not to mention the lover she surely had waiting somewhere, she might have been dangerously tempting to any man. But not to him, he thought. Her appeal faded next to Diana's.
At the moment, however, all he could think about was the fact she was circling him like a stable master shopping for a horse, narrowing her eyes at his chest, staring at his legs, nodding in satisfaction, clucking her tongue in disfavor. He half expected her to pry open his mouth and take a good look at his teeth.
"So you are Diana's friend and battle partner?" she asked, stopping in front of him and crossing her arms in challenge.
"Yes"
"And do you think you can protect her?"
"Protect her?"
"Can you fight?"
He stifled a smile. He'd been Superman for a long time. Of course he could fight. "If need be."
Then in one fluid movement, Artemis drew her sword and faced him. "Prove it."
His arms fell out of their fold. Surely she wasn't serious. He furrowed his brow. Maybe it was a trick.
"Let's see what you've got," she urged.
Kal glanced toward the spectators. Not one of them looked surprised by Artemis's challenge.
"Artemis, I don't think..."
"Come on, fight me" She poked his chest with the point of her sword.
He retreated a step. Rao's wisdom! She was serious.
"With all due respect, Artemis, I cannot…"
"Cannot what? Protect Diana? Then you may not court her."
"I don't need your permission to court her. And I'm certain I can protect her, but…"
"Then prove it." Reaching across with her left hand, she tugged another sword from its sheath. "Show me." She handed him the weapon, hilt first.
He took the sword, but refused to wield it. "Artemis, I don't really like weapons, it's not a matter of…"
Her sword slashed toward him so swiftly that it was all he could do to block the blow with his own blade. Reeling in astonishment, he almost missed deflecting her second strike as well. He stepped back, but she followed, her weapon swinging with such unexpected speed that he could scarcely keep it from biting him.
This couldn't be happening, he marveled. He couldn't be sparring with an Artemis. With his super-powers, he was far more powerful than she, though she was surely far more experienced.
"Artemis, stop!"
She jabbed him in the shoulder. "What? No balls?"she taunted.
"Rao's breath! I will not fight with weapons"
"And what if I mean to kill you?"
Her eyes glinted like green fire, and he wondered if she did mean to kill him. If she expected to be killed by him.
But Kal had made a vow, when he had first donned the mantle of Superman. So, praying he was making the right choice, he cast his sword to the ground in surrender.
"Artemis!" came a shout from outside the arena.
Kal glanced away from Artemis's eyes, which had taken on a wicked gleam, and looked toward the source of the outburst.
A vision of beauty was walking across the arena, her white skirts flapping gently in the breeze, providing tantalizing glimpses of unending legs. Her beautiful face was twisted with worry.
"Don't hurt him!" she cried, skidding to a stop beside the other onlookers, some of whom bowed and made way for her.
Artemis called back over her shoulder. "I wasn't going to hurt him." One corner of her lip curved up. "I was only going to maim him."
Diana didn't trust Artemis, not with Kal. She knew her too well. And she certainly was not about to let Artemis slice one hair from Kal's head.
"Nay! Cease! Desist!" Diana moved closer.
"Highness," Phillipus protested, seizing her shoulder, "It is best you stay out of it."
Her patronizing tone tested Diana's good nature. Nonetheless, she managed to smile sweetly at her mother's general as she bit out, "Unhand me at once."
Phillipus' eyes widened in surprise, and she let her go at once.
It was all Diana could to keep her temper in check.
As Diana, drew near, Artemis sighed, her gaze softening, "Sister, I was only jesting with him."