Go After Thornton

Lois Lane swung by Thornton's table on her way back to the bar, but did not look at him. Her hips swayed, the phone buzzing away deliciously. She felt a sensual flush on her cheeks, an itch between her legs...and she felt too the eyes that watched her long legs in those tight red pants, the heels she wore accentuating her calves and her small, pert ass. While Lois Lane might not have had big tits, she had grace and she used it, cutting easily through the crowd, self-assured and confident...

...and when she reached the bar Thornton was at her elbow, two fingers held up to the bartender, and without asking money was laid down on the bar to pay for both their drinks.

The reporter turned to consider the tall, dark man. He moved with the easy power of a linebacker, one of those men that could easily bend you in half and might, if they suddenly desired it, and there would be nothing to stop him. High cheeks, dark eyes, a strong chin with a dimple, and although clean-shaven there was something wolfish about the way he regarded her, like a predator looking to cut an animal out of the herd to tear apart at his leisure.

He lifted both cocktails up from the bar, and handed one to her.

"Colin," he said. "Thornton."

He raised his cocktail glass, and Lois accepted the one he offered her. Martini, dry, two olives, nothing like the grey, salty cocktails with Blaze's secret ingredient that Lois had earlier. She raised her glass and they clinked.

"Clara Kent," Lois lied smoothly. She placed her upper lip on the rim, and wondered if this is how he did it...slip a little pill into the drink, perhaps. "Come here often?"

His response was cut off as the music suddenly swelled in volume; the dance floor heaved, the women in the cages shook themselves in a frenzy as they began to masturbate openly. A roar went up from the crowd, so loud that Lois wanted to cover her ears...

Thornton waved his hand in front of her face and pointed at a door in the wall. Lois frowned. She hadn't seen it there a moment ago. Still, if he had a private room, that could work to her advantage. Instinctively she nodded, and with his free hand "Colin" grabbed her elbow and guided her toward the door...

Lois held her drink. There was a strange chemical taste in her mouth, and the incessant buzzing of the phone in her ass was driving her to distraction. Even though she hadn't sipped the drink, she could feel her heart beat faster, and she stumbled a little, but Colin Thornton gripped her tighter, almost painfully tight, as he pulled her toward the door, which Lois saw now was incongruous; old dark oak boards with an ancient iron handle , but no visible lock; the letters "W.C." were visible in the center of the door in old brass. It looked like the door to a toilet in some ancient and venerable law firm.

Even as Lois was processing that, half-carried toward the door, she caught sight of a figure out of the corner of her eye...