Dayzs of Thunder - 12 Dayzs of Christmas #8 by Menolly   Lois felt herself growing drowsy, despite the coffee, and grimaced. All she seemed to want to do was sleep at the moment, to her irritation. Still, she thought, it could be worse. No morning sickness, and she hadn't developed an aversion to coffee. Yet. And she was already used to decaf, so there was no great trauma in going without the real thing for the next few months. She gave in to the urge to sleep, settling into the cushions on the bench, and taking a last look at the menu before her eyelids closed. Strawberry ... she smiled as she drifted to sleep.   "Do you want to dance?" The question startled Lois out of her absent contemplation of the people around. She'd been wondering how much longer they would have to hang around, the Summer Ball at the Metropolis Press Club never having been one of her favourite events. Too many people; too much small talk; and the champagne was a cheap domestic. She looked up at Clark, her eyes sparkling appreciation as she deliberately lowered her gaze from his face to his body, admiring the fit of the white cotton formal shirt and black tux he wore. She raised her eyes back to his with a smile which widened as she watched him grow a little uncomfortable, and took his hand. He pulled her to her feet and held her close. "You have to dance with me now, or I'm going to be very embarrassed..." he said, trailing off as she shifted closer to test his claim, a wicked glint in her eyes as she realized what she'd done. "Between the looks you've been giving me, and the complete absence of any back to this dress, it's a wonder I've made it this far through the evening," he complained with a note of amusement, smiling at her. They moved out to the dance floor, Clark holding her hand and resting his free hand on her back, his fingers moving absently to the music, caressing her skin. He looked down at Lois and smiled. She was beautiful. She always was, but this dress was something special. A pale cream silk, it skimmed the floor, rising to a halterneck, the back bare but for a few laces crossing the lower half to mold the fabric to her. Beautiful as the dress was, what had had him groaning quietly to himself all evening was the knowledge that she wore nothing underneath it. Her explanation had been that anything she wore would show. His personal, unvoiced, theory was that she was trying to liven up the evening by driving him out of his mind. He kissed her softly, absently aware of the taste of strawberries lingering in her mouth from the ice cream they'd had for dessert, and they drifted across the floor, almost oblivious to the people around them. The evening drew on, and the music changed from a soft jazz to a faster beat. Lois and Clark stopped dancing. His hand still on her back, Clark urged her through the crowd to the cloakroom where he retrieved her wrap and his overcoat. They made their way to the entrance to the Club, and through the door. Clark stopped abruptly, Lois almost walking into him, and drew back slightly to ensure that they still stood under the shelter of the entrance as rain cascaded down. One of the doormen hurried over. "Mr Kent, Ms Lane, I'll just call you a taxi." He hurried away into the storm. Lois shivered a little at the rain and tucked herself closer to Clark. "Ms Lane ... it's strange, but I'm beginning to feel as though that name doesn't belong to me anymore. Two years of signing cheques and Visa slips as Mrs Kent must be getting to me," she smiled up at Clark. "Do you mind?" he asked "I know we discussed all this before, but do you feel any differently about it?" "No, I don't mind. I like being Mrs Kent ... and I don't mean just the name ... I think now I'd change it professionally if I could, to avoid this slight split identity feeling, but Perry wouldn't let me even if I tried. The Lane & Kent team is just too well known to change it to Kent & Kent." "The price of success," quipped Clark, as a taxi drew up. The doorman held out an umbrella to shield them from the rain, and they got into the taxi. The journey was short, and they were soon in their apartment. Clark shook the rain from his overcoat, which he'd held over himself and Lois as they raced from the cab to the door, and hung it in the closet near the front door. Lois dropped her wrap on a chair and kicked off her shoes as she walked through to the main room, followed by Clark who undid his bow tie and dropped it on Lois' wrap; he undid the first few studs on his shirt as he passed through the main room to the kitchen. Lois turned on the lights, dimming them to a soft glow, and moved to the stereo system. She switched on the amplifier, leaving the valves to warm up as she looked through their CDs. Finding a collection of Cole Porter songs she nodded to herself and dropped the CD into the open tray of the transport, pushing gently to close it. Quiet words tumbled from the speakers with a soft backing ... "You do something to me, Something that simply mystifies me, Tell me, why should it be You have a power to hypnotise me. Let me live 'neath your spell ..." She swayed to the music, and Clark saw her as a pale silhouette moving against the dark night as he came through from the kitchen. He put down the bottle and glasses he carried and softly came up behind her, his arms sliding around her to dance with her. Lois covered his hands with hers, and they moved together, watching their reflections in the glass doors that led to the roof terrace. As the song drew to a close Lois turned in Clark's arms, her arms curling around his neck, and they kissed softly until the next song began; neither wanted to break the quiet mood of the song. Clark took Lois' hand in his and drew her to the table where he took the bottle and poured a glass, handing it to her. "I saw you wrinkling your nose up at the champagne tonight. I thought this might take the taste away," he smiled. Lois sipped at the dry Mercier and smiled back in appreciation. "Are we celebrating something?" she asked. "No, I just thought this would be nice," said Clark, pouring a glass for himself. He drew her to the sofa, and they sat, Lois resting against Clark's chest, listening to the music, savouring the champagne, and relaxing in the warmth of each other's company. Clark put his arm around her, and kissed the top of her head, nuzzling softly as he savoured the scent of the shampoo she had used earlier that evening, the faint spices lingering in her hair. Lois sighed softly and settled a little more comfortably against him, the cotton of his shirt scratching lightly against her back, his arm warm around her. She lifted a hand to his, entwining her fingers in his. Clark set his glass and Lois' on the table at the end of the sofa, and encircled Lois in a gentle embrace; reaching around her he covered her hand as her thumb rubbed gently against his. She leant her head back against his shoulder, turning her face to him, a soft smile playing across her mouth as she lined his jaw with small butterfly kisses; his skin prickled on her lips despite his shave earlier that evening. She giggled at the feeling. Hearing the quiet sound Clark turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised in query. Lois giggled again at the expression on his face and motioned towards his face with her hand. "It .. bubbles," she said. Clark looked baffled. "Your face ... it feels like the champagne ... prickles on my mouth," said Lois, dissolving into laughter as she tried to explain. "It tickles!" Clark's expression changed to one of mischief at this, his hands moving to her waist as Lois realized what an admission she'd made and hiccupped through her laughter as she wondered what he was going to do with the information. She wriggled a little, as though trying to get away from his hands, trying not to let them touch her sides where she knew she was ticklish. Clark simply anchored her on the sofa next to him, and leant down behind her to rub his face against her back where her skin was bared by the dress. He just let his skin brush against hers, careful not to rub too hard, and Lois' laughter grew more helpless as he skimmed down her spine, tickling her unmercifully. She leant forwards as he reached the dip in the small of her back, convulsing with giggles. Clark took immediate advantage; as he kissed the small indentations of her spine he undid the laces holding the dress together at the back and slipped his hands under the fabric to caress her, his hands sliding over the warm skin of her stomach. Lois tensed at his touch, expecting him to tickle her, then relaxed as she leant back against him; she turned to kiss him as his touch turned from playful teasing to gentle exploration. Their mouths met, lips tasting each other in small sips before opening in a deepening kiss. Clark moaned softly in the kiss as he drew his hands over Lois' skin, feeling her pulse through his fingers whilst he heard it; he slid his hands upwards to cup her under the dress, tracing decreasing circles around her breasts. Her soft skin warmed a little under his touch as he crept closer to the small peaks of her nipples; Lois' heart beat grew louder and faster to his ears until she sighed his name as he caressed her with his thumbs. He cupped her again to rub the pads of his thumbs over her, drawing out the hard sensitized peaks with his touch and feeling her skin pucker softly under his fingers. Lois leant into the kiss, her tongue sliding into Clark's mouth as she felt a tightening arousal growing inside her at his touch, pushing into his mouth to explore and taste with a hot fervour that abated as she felt Clark grow still against her. She drew back a little and looked up at him, noticing the slightly distant look in his eyes. She sighed softly. "Go." Clark looked back down at her helplessly, the desire in his eyes not quite abated by the cry he heard in the far distance. "Go," she repeated. "The faster you go, the faster you'll be back ... we'll survive. I'll be waiting," she promised, sealing it with a gentle kiss on his lips. He took the kiss and deepened it briefly before standing up. Lois sat back on the sofa and watched the blur as he changed from one suit to the other, then stood and kissed him again quickly before walking with him to the doors of the roof terrace. She opened them, the rain blowing in a little as the storm raged outside, and Clark stepped out. "Go back inside ... you'll get wet," he urged her. Lois stepped back a little, holding the door, not arguing the point so he would go to return as quickly. Hopefully. She watched him take off, disappearing into the night sky. She moved to close the door, but stilled as lightening ripped across the sky and thunder crashed through the warm summer night. Behind her the CD began a new track, dark and thundering in an echo of the storm raging before her. "Like the trickle of shadows falling Like the tick tick tock of the eye of the clock Standing up against the wall Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops ... So a voice within me keeps revealing you here Night and day You are the one ..." The beat thudding through the speakers echoed the throb of the arousal still coursing through her as Lois stood in the doorway, rain spilling onto her in gusts of wind and dampening her dress. As another clap of thunder cracked through the air she stepped out into the falling rain; she felt the clinging drops soak her as she moved to the edge of the terrace and gripped the rail on the wall, looking out into the storm and feeling the restlessness within her echoed in the scream of the lightning and the crying thunder. She lifted her face to the rain, water streaming from her hair; her dress was now almost transparent as rain washed through it, molding every contour of her body as the fabric slicked against her skin. She laughed into the raging night feeling the heat inside her expanding, burning, through her as she watched and waited for the next jolt of thunder, the next crack of lightning, and always, always, watching for him to return. The storm rolled overhead, the dark clouds occasionally lit by the blue white heat of the lightning. Lois waited, savouring the feel of the electricity; the clarity of the air as the pollution of the city washed away in the torrents of water; the feeling of freedom as she allowed free rein to the storm that grew inside her, fed by thoughts of Clark; gasping as it tore at her. The quiet landing behind her was lost in the storm, hands on her wet skin the first she knew of his return. Clark turned her to face him, a look of concern in his face that washed away as the heat in her eyes fired his own; the questions he had melted under the intensity of her desire. He looked at her. The outline of her body under the wet dress sparked his arousal as lightning lit the sky and he saw the fabric outlining her peaked breasts, flattening over her stomach and dipping between her legs to a soft triangle before clinging to her thighs. He moved closer, pulling her into a kiss as the yearning inside him flamed abruptly into a white heat; his mouth crushed hers softly until she returned the kiss measure for measure, biting at his lips, thrusting her tongue into him with a feverish desperation. He ran his hands over her, sliding over the wet skin of her back, then under her dress and pulling away damp fabric from damp skin; sliding down to cup her bottom and pull her up against him, hard against her soft stomach. Lois pulled his head closer with her hand, needing to feel the bruising pressure of his mouth hard against hers; running her free hand over him she felt the water slicking the suit, then felt the hard length of him between them. She groaned in frustration as she tried to push through the fabric of the suit. Clark stepped back a moment, leaving her almost crying at the loss of contact; she turned back to face out into the storm, gripping the rail with knuckles that tightened to white with the tension that fed her. Clark changed in a blur back into the clothes he'd worn earlier, the shirt dampened instantly to a near transparency in the pouring rain, and came up behind her; his hands slid back around under her dress to her front, one moving up to her breasts, the other sliding down to the triangle outlined by her wet dress. His fingers moving softly and quickly through the curls dampened by the rain to find her centre, sliding into a warm dampness that had nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with the storm he created within her. Lois slid her hand behind her, between them, to unfasten the waistband of his trousers, burrow under his briefs, and curl her fingers around him with a sigh of relief as she savoured the feel of the satin soft skin; a thin covering over the hard length. She stroked him hard, pushing back against him to feel him against her as well as in her hand, as he plunged his fingers into her; driven by the fire that consumed them both. Lois arched against him with a cry that lost itself in a crash of thunder as he stroked his fingers into her; the tension grew ever tighter as he brushed his hands over her breasts until at last, reaching behind him, Lois pulled Clark to her; he was hard against her back, and Lois found herself rubbing against him in a plea she couldn't find the voice to utter. As he slid against the slick wetness of her rain-washed back Clark closed his eyes and threw his head back; the friction between them accelerated his arousal beyond his control. Pulling up her dress he nudged his leg between hers to open her to him, pushing her forwards a little to grip against the railing; holding her waist he thrust hard into her. Her warmth closing around him, hot and taut. Lois arched again, screaming his name as the heat of him inside her triggered the climax she'd been on the edge of for what seemed like forever. Her sudden and hard clench around him sent Clark tumbling with her. His arms slid around her as he leaned against her back, crying her name onto her skin, flooding into her in a warm rain that spilt through her as the storm broke around them. Lois lowered her forehead to the rail of the terrace, cold and wet in the rain, her eyes closed as she leant there gasping for breath and shuddering. As Clark leaned forward over her to support himself on the railing as well she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back as he harshly reached for gulps of air. He rested his head against her back, water trickling from his hair over her skin, then stood up and pulled her up against him; her eyes were still closed and he held her to him as he kissed her gently before picking her up and taking her back through the apartment to the bathroom. He slid her dress off and undressed himself, leaving their clothes to pool in a damp puddle on the tiled floor, then towelled them both dry. Picking Lois up again he carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, sliding down beside her. Her eyes opened, for the first time since he'd carried her from the terrace, and he read the ebbing arousal in them as he hugged her to him. "I love you," she said, her voice soft and ragged, as she fell asleep, her head on his chest, her arm around him and one leg hooked over his, as though to hold him to her even in sleep. Clark caressed her face, curling his hand around her jaw, and watched contentment seep through her.   Lois stirred and awoke as a clock somewhere in the apartment chimed, the sound carrying through the open doors, her eyelids opening over eyes glazed with the memory of a wild night. She sat back up, the arousal of the memory she'd relived in the dream still taut inside her, and forced herself to relax. Clark would be back soon enough,and in the meantime she still had the rest of the menu to look through ...   Back to Dayzs #7 or forward to Dayzs #9 Uploaded: 11 February 1997 Written: December 1995 See index page for disclaimer and copyright acknowledgements. This story, however, is my copyright and is not to be distributed without my permission.