"Mr Luthor, I've uploaded all that data to your computer," Gina told him with an air of triumph.
His head snapped up to look at her smiling proudly. His felt his brows furrow in annoyance. "What?"
She was still smiling. "Well, I had to partner your hard drive with the corporate server, but I was able to get you full access to all the employment records that you requested." She finally noticed the storm clouds taking over his expression. "The ones from before you...left..."
"You did what?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.
Her smile was gone now. "You asked me to get you all the employment records. I did. If that isn't what you wanted, I can change it." Her words were tumbling over each other now. "Or if there is a person in particular that you are trying to find, well, I can search her out..."
He shot up from behind his desk with such ferocity that his chair almost flipped. "Who said I was looking for someone? Who said I was looking for a "HER?"
She swallowed, backing away from him, her eyes wide. "No one, Mr Luthor. I just assumed..."
He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't Gina's fault that he had left himself open to Her.
But he couldn't reach Her, couldn't hurt Her for making him so weak, so raw, so exposed.
So he would fight on the field where he could win.
He sat down in the chair again, taking pains to move slowly and calmly. He replaced his hands on the keyboard loosely and returned his attention to the monitor.
"You're fired," he said without inflection.
"What? But I --" he heard the shock in her voice.
"Go to HR immediately. They will see about your last pay and escort you to clear out your desk."
She said something else, but he tuned it out. He did let his lips quirk in a smile when her heard her crying in the hall.
***************************************
He fucked triplets that night.
Other men may dream of sleeping with twins, but he was twice-dammed Lex Luthor.
He did things that normal men couldn't even venture to dream about.
They were all brunette.
**************************************
He started fucking his way through all the Metropolis brunettes, redheads, and raven haired girls with the same determination that he once held for its blondes.
He avoided blondes without exception.
Also green-eyed girls.
He wanted no reminders of her.
But the dreams, the memories, still came.
****************************************
They were in a Porsche.
Probably mine.
He was driving way too fast down a dirt road, not sure where they were going. He looked quickly over at her and he knew instantly where they were going.
Right here.
He pulled over on the deserted road.
As soon as the car stopped, he heard the click of her seatbelt, then she was in his lap.
Good thing she was tiny, or she would have been crushed against the steering wheel of the sports car.
He was kissing and biting at her neck, chest, ear -- anywhere he could reach as she pulled at his belt.
"Now, Lex. Now!"
His hands worked under her skirt (A skirt!) and literally tore away the material over her hips where it was thinnest. The scraps were thrown onto the car floor as he was finally freed and sinking into her hot wetness.
She was nearly sobbing with need as she rode him in the crowded space of the car. He pulled her top and bra down roughly exposing her bouncing breasts. He pulled one exquisite nipple into his mouth as sucked it in time to his thrusts.
He felt her racing towards completion, and when he felt her at the edge, he bit down -- hard.
She screamed in mingled pain and pleasure as her body crashed up and down with his own blinding pulsing.
****************************
He didn't give a shit that his shout of release echoed through the parking garage. Her long legs with their sky-high heels were wrapped around him and locked behind his back as he pounded into her.
Anyway, he and -- Bridgette? Britney? -- were the only ones in the parking area below the club. Everyone else was still up above, grinding against each other to the pounding rhythm of the music.
He had wanted to escape the vision. So why was he here?
Why had he dragged the brainless -- Bethany? Brandy? -- down here so he could fuck her across the hood of his car?
Because you had Her in the car...and you had to make do with this one over it.
Shut up! he told the mental voice.
He pulled from the panting body of the girl where she lay sprawled across the hood of the Porshe. Removing the condom, he pulled matches from his pocket and set the sticky rubber ablaze. He watched it burn as he tucked his now-flaccid cock back into his slacks and reordered his clothing. The girl giggled as she slid down from the car's hood and adjusted the tiny hot-pink dress back down. He had simply pushed it up to expose the tiny G-string underneath. That he torn to shreds.
Like he had with Chloe...
It hadn't mattered that this bimbo had red hair. It had still been about Her.
He was trying to fuck her -- Chloe -- from out of his head, but instead it seemed she was still fucking with his.
There must be something more here. More than just what he..felt -- had felt! Past tense! -- for her.
He should resume his search for her.
He needed answers.
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