by Celli Lane
Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne. The men that Forbes Magazine had crowned the American Gods of Finance a few months previous. And she was fairly certain they were telling dirty stories.
Jayne Benedict sat a table slightly away from theirs (two steps back when he walked, two chairs away when he sat) and watched her boss and his--friend?--snickering together. It made sense; despite the power, the money, and the reputations, they were both relatively young. She supposed it was nice to talk to someone and not be responsible for the food on their table.
Not that she would know. She was administrative assistant to Bruce's executive assistant, Carol, which meant she barely saw her commander-in-chief most days. Tonight was a special "treat." For whom, she wasn't sure.
"They're just going out to eat," Carol had said when she told Jayne her evening plans (Budget Gourmet and ER reruns) were suddenly being cancelled. "You need to be along in case it turns into a business thing. But it won't."
*Right, because she wouldn't take the chance of exposing me to actual work,* Jayne thought.
She leaned back as much as her business suit would allow and slid a hand up to check her hair. Getting all those curls straight enough to smooth into a bun was a pain in the ass, and it had been holding since six that morning. All the pulling was giving her a headache. But if she took it down it'd be kink city. So. She unbuttoned her shirt, just one button, *nothing too unprofessional, Carol,* and returned to her contemplation of the money men.
Jayne sighed and tried not to think of how long it would be until they were done exchanging prep school memoirs and she could go home. Her PDA was in front of her, and she looked as though she was busy with Wayne Enterprises business. In fact, she'd just gotten her 17th high score on Snood. Go her.
Mr. Luthor turned his head, and Jayne snapped to attention, trying to look businesslike and professional and not bored at all, no sir, expecting a query on a spreadsheet, or a request for a new fork, or something. Instead, he...he smiled at her. His gaze dropped to that one undone button, and one eyebrow quirked up.
Jayne goggled at him.
He said something to Mr. Wayne and stood up. Jayne held her breath as he brushed past her. But he just kept going.
The bathroom was that way. Duh. She sent a guilty glance towards Mr. Wayne, but he was obliviously eating his steak. She turned back to her PDA, opening up a work document out of sheer guilt. She reread a spreadsheet she'd memorized the week before. This is boring.
"Looks boring," someone said next to her ear, and she all but jumped out of her chair.
"Oh! Mr. Luthor! No, it's...um..."
He laughed. Jayne could feel her knees melting. Damn the man anyway; he already had money and good clothes, did he really need a voice that was like sex in a bottle? She didn't think so. But she didn't have to react like a twelve-year-old. She ignored the voice in her head telling her to talk business and flipped back to Snood.
"Not boring in the slightest," she said with all the sarcasm she could command, and looked up to see a grin flash across his face.
Wow, Jayne thought, but smiled back without too much geekitude. She hoped. She started breathing again as he walked back to his seat.
Jayne was still recovering from her brief encounter with Mr. Luthor when the evening ended. She trailed her boss back to his limo. Her Jetta was parked nearby. It was a nice little car, or would be if it weren't in the random proximity of a limo.
*There's a metaphor there.* She glared at the Jetta. Stupid metaphor. Stupid car.
She leaned against the trunk and waited for the limo to roar off. God forbid she leave first; Mr. Wayne might conceive a sudden desire for last quarter's dividends at-- she checked her watch--one-frickin'-thirty in the morning, and she'd never hear the end of it.
The sky was pretty tonight. No stars, not in Gotham, not ever, but today's smog had turned it a lovely deep blue. The buildings and streetlights beneath made it look vaguely Van Gogh-ish. "Starry, starry night," she said to herself.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
She jolted. "Mr. Luthor!" She looked back towards the limo, but it was pulling away. "Uh..."
"What are you looking at so intensely?"
"Just...the sky. Mr. Luthor, aren't you supposed to be in the limo?"
"I told Bruce I'd walk. What about the sky?"
"Walk? In Gotham? In the middle of the night?"
He sauntered towards her, and a million Discovery Channel specials came to mind. *The rare American billionaire stalks its prey...* She swallowed.
He stopped a few feet from her to look back up at the sky. "It is nice. Nothing like the Metropolis skyline. Kind of like a Van Gogh painting."
"Yes!" She beamed at him before remembering who he was.
"Metropolis would be...more like an early Monet, maybe."
"Right. So why are you walking again?"
"I'm not." He turned the full force of his smile on her. "I lied."
"Um...oh." Get a grip, Jayne. "Calling a cab? Buying a new car? Stealing one?" she asked hopefully.
"I'm crushed. You don't want to give me a ride?"
"Lex." He held his hand out. "And I don't believe Bruce introduced you."
"That's because he doesn't know my first name."
"Really?" He pulled his hand back.
"That's okay. He doesn't know his regular assistant's first name either, and she's worked for him for five years."
He thought for a second. "Carol, right?"
"Yeah," she said, surprised.
"So why doesn't he just ask her name?"
"He doesn't want to know. It's a Mr. Wayne...thing."
Mr. Luthor--Lex--Mr. Luthor smirked. "Yeah, I believe that."
"Well, good. Because I have better things to lie about than my boss's neuroses."
A startled second, and then Lex actually laughed. Jayne's knees started to melt again. No. Bad knees! Boss's business partner. Stupid knees.
"You're absolutely right." He took her hand in his. "And now you have to tell me your name."
"Jayne. Jayne Benedict."
"A pleasure." And he actually, honest to God kissed her hand.
Jayne swayed against the car. "Sure," she squeaked.
"Jayne, would you mind greatly giving me a ride back to my hotel?"
*Please God, please God, pleeeease let him want to have sex with me.* "Okay."
Driving was...difficult. Her Jetta was not built for size anyway, and Mr., um, Lex tended to take up all the available space. Jayne kept sucking in the breaths, but she wasn't sure the oxygen was actually connecting with her lungs.
"So," she said cheerfully, about three blocks into the drive, "why are you hitting on me exactly?"
After a pause that had her stomach tied in even more knots, Lex said, "Shouldn't I be?"
"Well..." Jayne smoothed her hair back. "I'm cute and all, but you're Lex Luthor."
"I hadn't noticed."
She rolled her eyes and concentrated on shifting. Although Armani-clad knees were beginning to take on a new eroticism for her. She added it to the mental list of "Things to Bring Up in Therapy" and forged ahead. "I'm just saying, You don't seem like the kind to...ah..."
"Fuck the help?"
She accidentally shifted into second instead of fourth. The car rocked. "Shoot! Sorry. Yeah. Um, that." When she snuck a look over at him, he was smiling, but he didn't truly look amused. "Just that--don't you have a European princess on speed-dial or something?"
"The Inquisitor retracted that article."
Another long pause. Then Lex said, "You didn't really look like the kind to expect love at first sight."
"Hell, no." She snuck another look. "Lust, though," she said hopefully.
She could see the corners of his mouth twitching. "It was that damned button of yours."
A rush of air and fabric as he moved closer, and Jayne nearly swallowed her tongue as he flicked a finger against her collarbone. "When you unbuttoned that button. I don't know. It made you look..." He leaned into her, and the breathing thing? So not happening. "Disheveled. I wanted to dishevel you some more."
"Ohhhhh." She hoped there weren't any other cars on the road, because she might not actually be in a lane. "Okay."
It took another mile for her brain to kick in. Okay, this walking sex thing was nice, but she felt like a blow-up doll. In fact, the average blow-up doll probably contributed more to the conversation than she had. If she was going to have a one-night stand with Lex Freaking Luthor--and she really, really, really wanted to--then damn it, she was going to be memorable.
The rest of the drive was very silent, but Jayne's mind was very busy.
Lex allowed Jayne to precede him through the door.
She stood in the middle of the room, taking in the decor. Lex didn't bother to follow her gaze; it was a hotel room, who cared? He looked at her instead. She was maybe half a foot shorter than him, respectable curves showing from beneath a severe business suit, wavy hair hinting at the edges of a tight auburn bun. She turned back from her survey of the room and met his eyes. Her hands went to her hips. Lex stifled a grin. He'd seen that expression before...usually right before someone threw a drink at his head.
"So, you should know something," she said.
"Drink?" He dropped the room key on the nearest flat surface and went to find the minibar.
"Huh? No. Um, you should know something."
"You said that already." He dug out a bottle of water and took a long swig while he loosened his tie. He saw her blink several times, but he wasn't sure if she was staring at the water or the tie. Hardly mattered. "I assume you have ground rules, or some such..." Nonsense. "Conditions?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Look, Mister--dammit, Lex," she snapped.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're cute. You're rich. You're sex on a stick. I get it. Really."
Sex on a stick? If he raised his brows any further, he was going to sprain a forehead muscle. But she just kept going.
"I won't deny that standing next to you makes me enjoy being a girl. But however happy you make my ovaries, I am not going to be..." She broke off, and ran a hand through her hair. "Convenient."
"Convenient." Lex watched her careful bun tumble around her shoulders. God, it wasn't auburn, it was full red, and curlier than anything. His palms itched. He ignored them. "As opposed to what, precisely?"
"As opposed to...dammit, I sound like a moron."
"No, I liked the part about being sex on a stick."
Jayne got about half a laugh out before she stopped herself. "Right. Right." She plopped down on the bed, and ran her hands through her hair again. "God, this hurts when it comes down. My point, silly as it may be, is that you're not doing me a--a--favor. Okay? I'm in the room too."
He crouched down next to the bed--he didn't have to go far, the beds in these damn penthouses came almost to his hip-- and ran his finger over that undone button that had fascinated him so in the restaurant. "So you're saying this is mutually convenient."
"Um, yes." Her voice was shaky, but she met his eyes, and moved deliberately as she undid the next button. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Lex."
He dropped his hand to catch hers. "All right, then." Her hand was small and soft, and she had chipped nail polish. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Mutual convenience it is."
The feel of her mouth against his was almost shocking. He hadn't kissed anyone since--fuck--for a while, and the shape of it, the taste of lipstick, the smells of perfume and hairspray, were unnerving. He slid his hands into her hair, feeling her wince as he brushed against tender spots on her skull left over from the tight bun. It took conscious effort to gentle his hands, rubbing her scalp, and he was rewarded with a humming sound that made him smile against her lips.
Time to dishevel her some more. Time to dishevel her a lot.
A silent room. ("Why do we need music, Clark? I want you to hear what you do to me.")
Clothes scattered next to the bed. ("Did you just tear my shirt?" "You can buy a new one.")
A naked body beneath him.
A naked female body beneath him.
Lex dragged his brain back into the present. *Beautiful female body, Lex. Pay attention.* He kissed her jawline, her neck, her shoulder, scraping his teeth along her skin until she shuddered under him. Better, he thought smugly. He rocked against her--
--and both he and Jayne froze and looked down at the same time.
"Oh dear," she said in a particularly high-pitched tone.
"If you laugh I'll--I'll--oh, fuck," Lex snarled. He pushed off her and squirmed until he was as far away from her as he could get and still be on the bed.
Regroup, regroup. Reassess the situation, refocus the discussion...and Lionel Luthor's voice was the last thing he needed in his head right now. "It's not you. I'm just- -" He couldn't think of a single thing to say. Sun Tzu never mentioned this. "This was a bad idea. You should probably leave."
He looked pointedly out the window and waited.
"Hey. Um, Lex?"
He didn't answer.
She smacked him on the shoulder.
"Hey!" He jerked his head over to glare at her, and--she was about an inch away, glaring back until her eyes nearly crossed.
"I'm still here, buddy."
"Why? I can't--you know--"
"Get it up?"
"No, really. Go away." He dropped his head back down. "Now."
"Don't make me hit you again, Luthor."
"Is it the go or the away that's not translating into your language?"
"Do you want the little speech about how it isn't the end of the world and you're much too manly for it to ever ever happen again?"
"How about the one where you're a multijillionaire and you could buy a new dick if you had to?"
He was not going to laugh. He wasn't. He glared at her again.
She pulled a pillow under herself--hiding an amazing pair of breasts from view, which disappointed him on an aesthetic level if nothing else--and balanced her chin on her hands. "Well, I came for meaningless sex, and I'm not leaving without it. So deal."
Lex made a noise that in a lesser man might have been a laugh. He settled into his pillow, mimicking her position. "Look, I just ended...I'd guess you'd call it a relationship. Badly."
"Can you end a relationship well?"
He thought back. "I can't, anyway. Creatively, but not well."
She grinned. "I like the sound of that."
"I used to," Lex said, and was disgusted at the hollowness of his own voice. *Now you're picking up random women to play therapist. Get a life.*
*Had one,* his subconscious replied. *Fucked it up. Thanks for asking.*
So what are you planning to do about it?
He grabbed Jayne and kissed her.
"...umph!" she said. When he let her up for air, she said, "Uh, I thought we weren't..."
"Maybe I'm not," he said. "But I still have manners." He shoved the sheet aside. "And fingers."
"Go you," she managed before his mouth landed on hers again.
Lex concentrated on everything about her that was new and different and female. She had cream-colored skin, with a line of sweat that tempted his mouth between her breasts; she kept up a running monologue of complete nonsense whenever her mouth wasn't busy fellating his bare head; and the first time he licked the inside of her thigh, she bucked off the bed so hard she clipped him on the jaw.
And surprise, surprise, eventually there was a need for the condoms in the nightstand table after all. Sometime after her second orgasm, Lex watched Jayne break into a grin, heard her say something about "mutual convenience after all," and then he slid into her, and oh God, girls were a completely different feeling, he remembered that now.
"Damn," he said into her mouth before all verbal skills deserted him entirely.
It was the lack of sound that woke Jayne up. Her usual mornings consisted of clanging pipes from her roommate using the bathroom, and thumps overhead from the upstairs neighbor's kids, who apparently treated their stairs like mogul ski jumps.
She sat up, yawning, and listened. A muffled, steady sound that must be a nice shower. Right, a nice hotel shower.
Nice hotel room.
Sex with Lex Luthor.
The shower noises stopped, and Lex came out, gloriously naked. Not being an idiot, Jayne looked her fill.
"The bathroom's yours if you want it," he said as he walked to the clothes laid across one chair. Navy blue briefs, black pants, a silk shirt so light blue it was nearly gray. "There's a hairdryer and towels in there."
A minute later, he looked up. "Jayne?"
"Aren't you going to take a shower?"
Her bladder was about to explode, her mouth was so morning breath-ed over she was sure her teeth were sticking to each other, and her hair was wild, she could feel it. But Lex was standing there, barefoot, those pants clinging to his butt, that shirt untucked and unbuttoned as he fastened the cuffs, and..."Huh?"
He laughed and crossed to the bed, dropping a kiss on her hastily-closed lips. "Not a morning person, are you?" While she was still blinking at him, he jerked the covers away. "Go. Shower."
It was hard to be dignified with a half-naked billionaire chasing your entirely-naked self into a bathroom. So Jayne didn't even bother trying.
"Nice suit," Carol said.
Jayne yawned. "Huh? Oh, yeah." She looked down at the black jacket and skirt that had magically appeared in the bedroom while she was showering. And the deep blue blouse, exactly the color of last night's sky. "It was a gift."
"A boyyyyy," Jayne said, drawing it out until Carol grimaced. She yawned again.
Pompous pain in the ass. "Sort of. Mr. Luthor wanted to explore" my body "some of the stockholder issues he needs to research for this deal."
"So he asked you?"
"I was there."
Carol huffed; obviously that wasn't going to happen again. "So, were you able to help him?"
"Well, he cleared up a lot of issues for me." Jayne hid a snicker behind another yawn.
"Yes, but did you help him?"
Jayne looked over to the conference room, where she could see Mr. Wayne and, um, Mr. Luthor passing papers back and forth. Lex looked up; when his gaze met hers, he smiled slightly, but only slightly. "I don't know. I tried."
A tray clattered onto the desk in front of her. "Take their coffee in. And button that top button. You look unprofessional."
She took the tray but left the button alone. Mr. Wayne excused himself as she stepped into the room, but she fixed his coffee from memory. "Cream, Mr. Luthor?"
"No, black." He lowered his voice. "I like your button."
She made sure her back was to the door and grinned at him. "Carol hates it. She's asked me to button it three times already this morning."
He looked over at the door, where Carol was hovering and glaring at Jayne. "I could have her fired, you know. Bruce owes me a favor."
Jayne rolled her eyes. "You know, most men just send flowers the next day."
"I'm not most men."
"Yes, but no. I'll get her job on my own, thank you very much." She handed over the coffee.
He spoke again when she was almost at the door. "Jayne. Thank you for the coffee."
"You're welcome, Mr. Luthor."
Author's notes: Many, many thanks to the "real" Jayne, who ahem inspired me in the first place and was kind enough to beta her own anti-Mary Sue. And to Robin, who loves me even though I overuse the ellipsis.
The Van Gogh painting Jayne and Lex refer to is indeed called "Starry Night" and can be seen here: http://www.vangoghgallery.com/painting/p_0612.htm
The "early Monet" that inspires Lex's comment looks like
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