A/N: The title is based off of a song by Electric Guest. The lyrics definitely apply to this story to an extent, so please give it a listen. It completely inspired the making of this fic.

Chapter One

It was just another ordinary Saturday night for Oliver Queen. He was currently scanning the lower level as he leaned out against the upper deck of the club he was in, searching for the woman who'd occupy him for the night.

He was never big on relationships, he never has been. He tried to do the whole dating thing once, but he learned quickly that he was bad at everything except for sex. No, sex he knew he was good at. And with his looks, it wasn't hard to come by. It was almost boring how easy it was for him to get a girl to go home with him for the night. Normally, all it took was a simple drink and a couple dirty words.

After years of doing nothing more than taking a girl home for the night for some equally satisfying sex, he began to form a sort of pattern. Once he had his victim chosen, he took her back to his place, explained to her that he wasn't looking for anything serious or extending past this one night (which was the gentlemanly thing to do since it made his intentions clear and still gave her a chance to back out- they never did), slept with her, waited for her to get her things together before leaving, and then went right to sleep.

It was easy, this pattern of his. Uncomplicated and smooth. Girls never backed out of a night with him, even when he made it clear he wasn't looking for anything else. Sure, he still got those women every once in a while who tried to call or run into him 'by coincidence' for more of his time, but he never gave it to them.

He was serious about not having sex with the same girl more than once. No repeats. He followed his pattern and stuck to his rules because they were what got him the best outcomes. Straying off of this road would lead him onto uncharted territories, and he wasn't feeling adventurous.

So, as he gazed out over the deck, his eyes drifted from girl to girl, the glass of scotch he was nursing doing its job to ease his nerves. The calmer he felt, the easier time he had convincing whatever girl he happened to like for the night that he wasn't a piece of trash.

He was just about to settle on a brunette by the dance floor, when a flash of blonde caught his eye. Entering the club was a woman who, despite how far apart he was from her, he could tell was gorgeous. She had on a gold dress that hugged her curves and sucked him in instantly. Even if this woman wouldn't give him more than a second of her time, he needed to get nearer to her.

He took the steps down two at a time, keeping his eyes on her throughout his whole journey. She took a seat at the bar, ordering herself a drink. Oliver noticed the empty seat to her right and made his way towards it, not caring who he had to push over to get there.

He was still a few feet away, and he could already feel his palms sweating as he took in how absolutely stunning this woman was. She looked like something out of a movie. She didn't belong in that dirty club. Not surrounded by the sleazy guys and easy women. She was... unreal. Everything about her. From her golden hair, to her stilettos.

When he finally reached the open seat, she'd already been handed her drink. He watched, fascinated, as her red painted lips wrapped around the small straw and sucked. He took in a fast breath, setting his scotch down on the bar top and facing forward. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he wasn't sure he knew what he was going to say exactly.

That was a first.

"How's the drink?" he heard the bartender ask her, and Oliver took a sip of his scotch, awaiting her reply.

"Perfect, thank you," she said, her voice sounding just as good as the rest of her looked.

Without wasting another second where just any other guy could see this goddess of a woman and attempt the same thing he wanted to, Oliver turned in his seat, facing her now. She caught his movement from the corner of her eye, and glanced over at him, startled.

"Hi," he greeted, in that breathy voice he used when he was nervous.

She looked him over, her lips tugging upwards a little as if she liked what she saw, or in the very least, found him amusing. "Hello."

He smiled, inching forward just a little. "How's your night going?"

"It's alright. I've never been to this club before. A friend recommended it to me, so I thought I'd check it out," she responded, oblivious to how mesmerized he was by the sheer beauty in what all she was doing was talking. "Is this your first time here?"

"Me? No," he answered. "I come here a lot. I'm friends with the manager, so I get free drinks." He realized what he'd said, and tried to explain himself before she got the wrong idea. "I'm not like, an alcoholic or anything. This is actually my first drink. I just like that if I do decide to come here, I don't need to worry about bringing my wallet. Which I did. Of course I did. In case of an emergency or if I needed to purchase anything. Like another drink... for somebody else." She burst into laughter at his uncharacteristic ramble and he clenched his jaw, wanting to punch himself with how uncool he'd sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She stopped laughing and looked at him. "I just started on this one, but thanks for the offer."

"How about when you finish that one?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to be good after this one," she declined, making his skin heat with the embarrassment and unfamiliar feeling of being rejected.

Oliver told himself he shouldn't be surprised. He had to strike out at some point. And since this was very likely the sexiest woman he had ever seen, he knew to expect nothing more than a polite conversation that ended in him taking home second best. Which compared to her, would mean a huge settlement.

He stood up, folding his lips together as he tried to pull whatever was left of his dignity off the ground. "Okay, well I'm sorry to have wasted your time. I hope you have a good night. Bye."

He felt a hand land on his arm and stopped, his heart leaping into his throat at not only her touch, but the fact that she wanted him to stay. He was already walking away from her, but she'd stopped him. Turning to face her, he tried not to let show how flustered he was.

"I wasn't telling you not to buy me another drink because I didn't want to hang out with you any longer. I was telling you not to buy me another drink because I want us to hang out somewhere else, preferably alone, and preferably without clothes."

His throat contracted as it dried up and his words got jammed there. He felt his body go rigid, sure he'd been slipped something because in no world had this woman just told him that sentence. It was something from out of his wildest fantasy. She smiled as he presumably made it clear just how shocked he was, her tongue wetting her bottom lip almost as if to really give him that heart attack he was nearing.

"If you don't say something soon, I'm going to have to awkwardly walk away and hope you didn't have a seizure or something else medically important," she joked, making the blood rush through his veins again as he came back to himself.

He hung his head in a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "No, it's- I'm fine. Really, I am. I was just a little... caught off guard. It's just that you're... you're so..." He cleared his throat, giving her a tight smile as he finally decided that saying as little words as possible was the way to go. "Your place or mine?"

She laughed again, his ears delighting at the sound. "Your place is fine. I'll follow behind you in my car."

"Okay," he agreed, letting out a small breath of air at how unbelievably lucky he was at this moment to have the hottest girl he'd ever seen telling him how she planned to get to his place, where she was going to have sex with him. "I'm Oliver, by the way."

She smiled, hopping off of the bar stool she'd been occupying, and said, "I'm Felicity."

Then she was heading back right the way she'd just entered the club from, and Oliver had to remember he was the one who was supposed to be leading here. He was only struggling with trying to get his mojo back because this woman had completely stolen it with just how confident and beautiful she was. He stepped outside, catching glimpse of her as she got into her tiny car.

He nearly dashed over to his own car, which sat on the other end of the parking lot. He kept glancing over at her, just to make sure she was still there and that she hadn't left yet. Once he realized she really wasn't going anywhere without him, he backed out of the spot, leaving the parking lot, and heading towards his place.

The drive was short, which was yet another reason he loved going to that club. That meant he didn't have to wait long before he got to see her again, when he could refresh his memory on just how breathtaking she was. He parked his car along the side so that she could take the driveway, and was out of his car before she could even turn onto his street.

His hands fumbled with his keys as he attempted to unlock his door. He saw her pull into his driveway from his peripheral vision, and finally got that door open by the time she was stepping out of her car. He held it open for her as she walked inside, shutting it behind him. He watched as she took in his place, trying to get back some semblance of self control.

"Nice place," she commented, looking over her shoulder at him. "Where's the bedroom?"

He nearly choked, but covered it up with a chuckle, unable to handle how staggering she was. "Don't you, um, want a drink first? I have a lot of liquor here." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "And once again, I am not an alcoholic. I just happen to keep a lot of booze at my place. I have parties here sometimes. My friends come over. I can assure you I drink a normal amount."

She laughed again, which got him to crack a smile despite himself. "I'm good on the alcohol. You should have a drink though. If you want to, I mean. You seem a little jittery."

He felt as though his entire world had just collapsed as she solidified what he'd been worried about from the moment he first saw her. She could tell that he was off his game, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was giving her the impression that he was some loser who wasn't used to attractive women sleeping with him. He was Oliver Queen.

Oliver freaking Queen.

He didn't get nervous when it came to women, and he didn't get nervous at all when it came to sex. He clenched his jaw, tempted to pour himself a glass of scotch, but deciding that he needed to suck this up sober if he was ever going to feel normal again. Suddenly, he felt his old self returning, his confidence coming back in strides, making him square out his shoulders and straighten his back.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his gaze piercing her now so that she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "I wasn't feeling myself. I didn't mean to come off as jittery."

"You're fine," she assured, no longer meeting his gaze.

His confidence grew even more. "Let me show you where the bedroom is."

She nodded feebly, and he guided her towards his room, passed the guest room he used with all the other women. For some reason, he thought it would be better to have her in his real bedroom, where he never took anyone else. He told himself it was because being surrounded by all of his things would center him some more, but he couldn't help but feel like there was more to it than that.

"Here it is," he said, opening the door, and letting her inside.

She glanced around, turning back to look at him. "And where do you keep the condoms?" He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise, but only because of how straightforward she was. "What? I don't even know you. I'm not taking any risks."

"No, you're right," he quickly assured, going over to the nightstand by the side of his bed and pulling one out. "They're right here."

"Good. Now-"

Oliver cut her off by kissing her, because he knew she was about to initiate yet another thing, and he thought it was about damn time he got the upper hand for once. He felt her gasp of surprise against his mouth, but all he could focus on was how soft and full her lips were against his, and how amazing it felt to be kissing her. His hands settled at her waist, pulling her hips against his, reveling in the feeling of being so close to this woman.

What felt even better, was when she started kissing him back, her lips moving against his, seeming to be perfectly in sync. She wrapped her hands around his neck, gently scraping her nails over the short hair there. The kiss heated quickly when he pressed his tongue along her bottom lip, feeling her open her mouth to him so that his lips would burn with eagerness for more.

He felt every single touch form her, whether it was her palms pressing into his chest, or her fingertips working to get his shirt undone. His hands started to do their own exploring as well, finding the zipper of her dress and bringing it down. Their actions were so hurried and rushed, that he couldn't keep up with what was happening. Her mouth was able to move so quickly against his own, he really couldn't even begin to process how she somehow was getting him naked.

He pulled away for air, his chest heaving as he stared down into her lust-filled eyes. He wanted to curse at how attractive she was, especially with her lips so swollen from kissing him. She was breathing heavily too, and her hands only kept moving, shoving his shirt down and off his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. Her eyes left his to run over his newly exposed torso, and he noticed the way her tongue traced over her bottom lip.

"I should probably tell you," he began, trying hard not to focus on how tight his pants were at the moment, "that I'm not looking for anything serious."

She snickered, shaking her head. "Of course you wait until I'm already half-way through shredding your clothes off to tell me that."

His heart dropped as he stared at her, panic filling him. Oh no. She couldn't be looking for something serious, could she? If so, then this whole night was ruined, and he'd been the one to screw it all up. Why couldn't he have just left it alone? Now the hottest woman he'd ever seen was going to walk away all because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Oh, uh, were you, um," he stuttered, feeling his mind race with anything that could get her to finish what they'd started.

She placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart, and he shut up instantly. "Relax," she chuckled. "I'm not looking for anything serious either. I went home with the first guy who hit on me. Clearly, I've set the bar low for myself."

He almost smiled at the fact that his opportunity hadn't passed, but he was a little more concerned by the fact that she thought that getting him was setting the bar low. "Trust me, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling her in closer, "Getting me is not setting the bar low."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

His confidence was deterred none since he knew that she was in with him now, and there was no going back. "That's because I am. You're going to leave this place feeling the most satisfied you've ever felt."

He was making pretty big promises for a guy who was ready to cum in his pants just from looking at her, but he couldn't help himself. If he didn't completely rock this girl's world, then he was going to hate himself forever.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

He smirked. "I've been called worse, believe it or not."

"I believe it."

There was nothing else to be said, and so they stopped talking. He tugged her dress down her shoulders, and she stepped the rest of the way out of it. His mouth dried at the sight of her in just her underwear, but she didn't give him enough time to gawk before she was busting open his pants. He helped her pull them off of him, feeling instant relief when the tightness disappeared.

He didn't even have a second to breathe before her hand was reaching into his boxers, wrapping around his hard cock, and stroking with a purpose. His lips parted and his eyes fluttered, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the slit at the top and smearing his pre-cum around.

"Fuck," he gasped, gritting his teeth.

"You're really fucking hard," she whispered, almost sounding shocked by the state she'd put him in.

He was reminded that he had a mind to blow, and pulled her off of him, quickly unfastening her bra, and drinking in her bare chest. Her skin was so unmarked and pure. The more he saw of her, the more he was convinced that she was unreal. His hands palmed her breasts, and she sighed in content, letting him take his feel.

"You are something else," he murmured, shaking his head.

"Enough talking already," she said, stripping off her panties and reaching down to tug off his boxers.

His erection sprang free, and she didn't waste a second, reaching for the condom he'd taken out, and rolling it onto him. Then she pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him, and kissing him again. He flipped them over so that he was on top, feeling himself rub against her in the process, and biting down on her lip. He positioned himself at her entrance, looking down at her as she gazed back up, her eyes hooded.

Then, with more sureness than he ever had, he pushed into her, feeling a sudden nagging in his head. He almost paused to figure out what it was, but his body had a mind of its own at this point. She felt so fucking good, better than anyone else he'd ever been with. She was so tight and wet around him, and he slid in almost too easily.

His brain raced with thoughts of a million different things, all involving her. One single thought lingered in his mind just briefly, but it was enough to make him pause. Being around her, feeling her surrounding him like that, almost felt... right. Not just right, like how sex normally feels. But right, like this was meant to be. He swallowed and looked down at her, but her gaze was unreadable as she stared back, her lips parted with whatever was on her mind.

"You, um, okay?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

Her pupils dilated at the sound of his voice, which he was sure only made him harder. "Yeah," she whispered, licking her lips. "I'm fine."

He nodded, taking that as his cue to keep on going. Pushing past whatever it was he'd felt, he picked up pace, entering her at a rapid rate, feeling her fall to pieces in his arms as he did just what he promised her he would. Her nails dug into his back, and he only let that spur him on, driven by the clear pleasure he saw forming from his actions.

"Oh... Oh, god," she moaned, running a hand through her hair and bunching it up. "Yes, just like that."

"Fuck, you feel so..." he groaned, feeling his eyes roll back as she tightened purposefully around him. "Dammit."

He took hold of her right leg, bending it forward so that he could penetrate her deeper. She moaned even louder, grabbing at his neck now, forcing him to put effort into keeping his head up, just because the thought of not staring at her face seemed like the most stupid thing he could do. He pushed into her hard, watching as she arched into him, her nipples pressing into his chest.

"Fuck, Oliver," she moaned, saying his name like he'd never heard it before.

It made his skin itch to hear her say it again. It made him almost come right that instant, just because of how sexy and right it'd sounded. It made him want to make her say it until it was the only name and only word she knew. He repeated the action, hoping for the same result. Instead, he brushed over her G-spot and got something even better.

"Oliver! Holy... fuck me, Oliver," she cursed, rolling her hips onto his, making him hit it again and again. "Yes, yes, yes."

"God, you're so beautiful," he said, feeling the words slip out of his mouth before he could even think of what they were.

But he didn't care. He didn't have time to worry about his filter when he was too busy focusing on the woman underneath him. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back and exposing her neck. Almost instinctively, he leaned down, pressing his lips into the tender skin. She hissed when his teeth grazed over her, and he trailed his mouth all the way back up to hers.

When their lips met again, their tongues came out to brush against each other's immediately. He sighed into her mouth when she curled her tongue around his, his head spinning with how in sync they were not only in kissing, but in having sex as well.

"I'm close," she gasped, pulling away.

He nodded, feeling dizzy from kissing her, but refusing to stop. "Okay, good. Me too."

She nodded back, kissing him again, which was starting to feel more natural by the second. "Need me to..." They kept kissing, and he took some pride in the fact that she couldn't even finish a sentence without needing to kiss him again. "...touch myself?"

He shook his head, reaching between them and finding her clit. "No," he assured, watching as she writhed underneath him at the contact. "I got you."

Effortlessly, he rubbed her clit, and within seconds, she was calling out his name again, repeating it over and over, making it so much worth it. She came with a shout, clutching onto him, and tightening around his cock. He groaned, thrusting in a few more times before letting go himself. His whole body shook with his release as he had one of the strongest orgasms he could remember.

He collapsed against her chest, breathing heavily as he tried to think rational thoughts again. Her breathing was just as shallow, and she kept shaking her head back and forth, almost as if she couldn't believe that he'd done exactly as he'd said.

"How was that?" he huffed, looking up but not moving his head any.

She let out a breath of air. "Fucking great."

"For me too," he admitted, using the last of his strength to haul himself off of her and onto the mattress. He stood up to dispose of the condom, returning back to the bed to get ready for a good night's rest. She was already redressing, nearly done by the time he walked back in. He crawled underneath his blankets anyways, watching her finish putting on her clothes.

She sat down on the edge of his bed to put on her heals, standing up to fix her hair in his mirror. It was already too late to do that. She had total sex hair, and he was proud of that. When she gave up, he was amused, and she made her way to his door, pausing with her hand on the doorknob to face him again.

"Really? That's it?" she questioned, and he furrowed his brows, sitting up. "I mean, I know you said you didn't want anything serious, but you don't even want my number? We could do this again sometime."

Oliver felt that panic fill his chest whenever the idea of breaking one of his rules was near. He wanted to see her again. Hell, he wanted to with everything in him. But that would be breaking his own rules, which were the only thing he had going for him. He would have to stick to them if he was ever expected to keep going on about this carefree lifestyle.

"I don't do repeats," he said, watching as she eventually nodded, walking away without another word.

Never before, had he felt like such a jerk.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this. Please review! Thank you :)