Disclaimer: Smallville stole my soul from Doctor Who. Unfortunately it didn't come with any rights of ownership.
Summary: Sometimes you get away with your lies, other times they catch up to at the most inopportune times.
Author's Notes: Written for Sinecure in exchange for services rendered. Thanks to Cy for a few well-placed line suggestions.
@~~~
It's been ten months since they last saw each other, seven since they last spoke. She would say it's been just as long since she's thought of him at all, but that would be a lie. And after every half-truth they've ever told each other, after every sin of omission, every deception committed--destroying, blow by inevitable blow, the very thing they were trying to save--Chloe refuses to lie anymore. Especially to herself.
What she doesn't refuse to do is play cloak and dagger with him in the middle of a charity event. Doesn't refuse to tease him every chance she gets; gracefully arching her neck when she laughs at her date's earnest attempts at humor, sensually licking her lips after a particularly scrumptious piece of chocolate cake. Fucking him with her eyes as she's led out onto the dance floor, in the arms of another man.
It's such obvious foreplay that, when she finds herself dragged into an alcove away from the prying eyes of the Metropolis elite, it feels less like a surprise and more like a foregone conclusion.
As does getting finger-fucked by Lex Luthor during the aforementioned event. Having his hand under her gown, between her legs, rubbing her wet, swollen flesh. Leaning back into his warm, solid body and reveling in the hardness of his erection pressing into the small of her back.
She usually hates these events, finds any excuse possible to get out of them. Not this time, not after she saw his name on the guest list.
There's a reason she didn't wear any panties tonight.
Unfortunately, she can't blame this particular depravity of hers on him. Not when she's had a thing for sex in public places for as long as she can remember; has always been turned on by the threat of discovery, the thrill of getting away with something she shouldn't be doing. Maybe it all ties back to being a reporter.
Or maybe she's just that perverse. Maybe she just really enjoys the self flagellation of letting the man who broke her heart slowly wiggle another--third--finger into her tight folds, while her date stands just a few feet away, looking for her. The glasses are an illusion, she knows if he turns his head just a little to the left, lets his gaze slip into the alcove...
The thought causes a surge of arousal, and before she knows it she's coming, breaking, fracturing over Lex's hand. Has to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out, knows that despite the precaution, the jig is up.
"Come with me."
Her gaze involuntarily meets Clark's, sees the pain and confusion, the betrayal there.
"I can't." She means for it to sound forceful, resolute, but the words come out in a whisper and she doesn't stop him when he takes her by the hand--his fingers, still sticky, intertwining in hers. Doesn't protest when he leads her through the crowd and to the door, the ice of Clark's gaze forcing a chill down her spine.
If Chloe is going to insist upon telling nothing but the truth from now on, then she has to be completely honest with herself...
Pretending she could actually walk away from him--from them--was probably the biggest lie she's ever told.
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I always love sexy Chloe. I sort of feel bad for Lex being submitted to such torture. Okay, who am I kidding I love it. 
It makes the relationship that much more passionate.
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