Let Him Reign: An Underworld Romance (2 page)

"That's Spiderman you're quoting, dipshit."

"Whatever. My point is that both you and Bruce Wayne have issues. Are you gonna eventually step up and do the badass shit that needs to be done, or are you gonna keep right on flunking out of college, wasting your life drinking, and gambling away money just to piss off King Cunt?"

"Ooh," I hiss sarcastically. "That's a tough one, but I think I'm gonna have to go with the latter."

"Pussy," he mutters while straightening his cheap, crimson vest and black cape. "Hell, if we're going to do this, then we need to do it right. What do you say we make things interesting tonight? I bet you a grand that you can't get fucked without using your name."

"Deal," I say immediately, never one to back down from a bet, especially one that challenges my irresistible swagger.

"Double or nothing that I get my dick wet first," he adds with a smirk, holding out this hand in offering.

"You're on," I agree, shaking on it.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a starship sex kitten downstairs that I intend to fuck at warp speed until she calls me Captain Kirk."

"That doesn't make a damn bit of sense," I tell him, even though I'm unable to prevent my lips from curling up at the corners. At least his retreating back prevents him from witnessing my amusement. He does however still flip me off without turning around before jogging down the stairs.

After he's gone, his words continue pinballing around in my thick, stubborn skull, killing my slight beer buzz. I grip the banister tighter as I recall just how many times my father’s called me a weak, worthless idiot. There's too many instances to count. It doesn't matter that I never wanted any part of this shit. With no way out of the future I'm locked into, all I can do is fuck off as long as possible until the day comes for me to take over and deal with the responsibilities that go along with it.   

I try to shrug off the weight on my shoulders, at least temporarily. There's no reason to waste time worrying about something I have no control over when I could be enjoying myself before my father crashes the party. It's time to find out if I can snag one of these chicks without them knowing about my family's name or fortune. The sooner I can escape my life and get between a female's legs, the better.  

The girl I've decided I'm gonna have before the end of the night is actually dancing next to Heath and his Trekkie. She is a damn fine snake charmer, making my cock stand up and twitch just seeing her hips sway. The longer I watch the more I want her, and only her, even without the irony of her costume. Nailing the gorgeous girl with long, fiery locks and fine as fuck curves tonight is the only destiny I care about. That pussycat is going to be mine.

…

Hope

"Batman's watching you." The pirate snickers against my ear, so that he can be heard over the music. He's been rubbing against my ass for a few songs now. Well, I guess it's been him, but who the hell knows.

The main floor of the massive, elegant mansion is filled to capacity. If I wasn't dressed in head-to-toe patent leather, I'd be bathing in other people's sweat right now. The fact that I'm too tipsy to be disgusted should bother me, but it doesn't.

"What?" I ask the scallywag behind me. My alcohol hazed mind is trying to figure out if "
Batman’s watching you
" is innuendo for something kinky, and I'm kind of hoping it is. Like he's Santa Claus and he'll know if I've been bad or good.

"Upstairs," the man directs.

My eyes lift, searching along the cherry wood banister of the second floor and...oh my!
Yes, Batman, I've been a very naughty girl this year.
Not exactly, but I'd like to be.

Being a goody-two-shoes is overrated. I'm only nineteen, and dammit, I deserve to have some fun before I settle down with a husband, two kids, and a white picket fence. It's sad that this party's the most excitement I've ever had in my boring, all work and no play life. If I'm not studying then I'm working double waitressing shifts, but the prospect of getting out of this dead end town makes all the effort worth it. Now that I'm single again, a part of me wants to let loose and have fun. Maybe that's the punch talking. Either way, Batman is looking mighty good, so I give him a flirty wave.                                           

The corners of the Dark Knight's full, sculpted lips lift into a smile underneath his mask while his intense eyes peer down at me, shimmering with mischief. The way his tall, wide shouldered frame is filling out that superhero costume is so damn hot.      

Knowing he's watching, I put a little extra sway in my hips, and push my ass back into the pirate's lap a little harder, making him groan and tighten his hold on my waist. Batman's eyes are glued to me, and I'm loving the high I'm getting from dancing as provocatively as possible for him.

Tonight I'm determined to have some fun, if only to prove to myself that I can be sexy and desired by other men, contrary to what my lazy, worthless bastard ex-boyfriend said. After catching Justin cheating on me with his skanky, bleached-blonde coworker from the Snack Shack
,
he had the balls to blame
me
for his roaming cock. He told me I was a prude and too "vanilla" in the bedroom for him. Maybe that's his fault for never even suggesting that we try anything besides plain old, boring missionary.

Shaking my head to clear that asshole out of my mind, I look back up at the mysterious stranger. I can't figure out if he's watching me because I'm dressed as his counterpart Catwoman or if he's interested in me. It's probably because I'm Catwoman.

Determined to find out, I spin around, holding his gaze and wrap my arms around the pirate's neck before sliding the front of my leather outfit down and then back up his white, baggy dress shirt and black pants.

"Damn, woman," the pirate groans. One of his palms lowers until he's gripping my ass, pressing my pelvis against his mighty sword. At least
someone
obviously wants me.

Our captive, one man audience leans forward, as if trying to get a closer look, resting his forearms on the rail while sensually licking his bottom lip. I'm pretty sure I whimper. Just looking at him has me more turned on than this guy touching me, or maybe it's the combination of the two men wanting me.

When Jack Sparrow's treasure hunting hand dips down to the seam between my legs, I reach around and raise it back up to the small of my back.

"Oh, come on, honey. Let's go find somewhere quiet where we can...get to know each other."

"Not gonna happen," I warn him, pushing my palms against his chest to put a little distance between us. I don't intend to have
that
much fun tonight. But it's my own damn fault for dirty dancing with the pirate and leading him on.

When I look back up to the balcony, it's empty, and my shoulders slump in disappointment. Well, flirting from across the room with the mystery man had been fun while it lasted. I also think I've had enough of the guy in front of me, but glancing next to us…oh crap. The way Kayla is bumping uglies with her tongue down the seriously hot Dracula’s throat, it looks like she's about to let him have more than her blood tonight. I'm gonna be so pissed if she takes off and leaves me here.           

"Walk the plank, fucker, before I give you a reason to need that eye patch and a wooden leg," a sexy, baritone says from behind us.

I look over my shoulder, and when I see Batman towering behind me, my jaw hits the ground. His lips lift into a smirk before his strong, massive hands grip my hips to pull me out of the pirate’s arms and into his. He yanks me forward until I’m flush against his hard body and reaches for my arms, draping them around his neck before he starts swaying us to the up-tempo beat.

Looking into the most incredible pair of sapphire eyes I've ever seen, I go completely speechless. Although I've never actually seen the ocean before, I can't imagine its beauty could even begin to compare to the endless depths of crystal-clear sea I'm currently drowning in.

"Um, hi," I finally say softly, unsure if he can even hear me over Lady Gaga's "Poker Face.”

"Hi," he says, his lips brushing my ear. An involuntarily shiver washes over me from the warmth of his breath. At the same time goosebumps race up and down my arms. I hear his sharp inhale. “Mmm, you smell so damn good, sweet like berries.”

“Oh really?” I laugh and squirm when the pointy nose of his mask tickles my neck.

"Uh-huh. And this costume fits you purr-fectly, but I bet you'd look even better out of it."

It takes me a second to pick up on his corny joke when he simultaneously made a comment about seeing me naked. "Did you seriously just say
purr-fectly
?" I ask with a smile, standing on my tippy toes so my lips are right next to his ear.

"Come on meow, do I look like the type of man that would go around saying purr-fectly?" he deadpans.

After that I can't help but throw my head back with a full-out belly laugh. "
Super Troopers
is one of my favorite movies," I tell him after I recover and can speak again.                          

He gives a deep chuckle and pulls me against him even closer, one of his thick thighs wedging its way between my legs. "Mine, too."

While we dance wordlessly, it becomes increasingly obvious that the Dark Knight is turned on.

"Holy smokes, Batman. Is that a pistol on your utility belt, or are you just happy to see me?" I stretch up to ask against his ear, rubbing along his hardness on the way up and then on my slow, tantalizing way down.

"I am very, very happy to see you, Miss Kitty," his deep, rumbling voice replies while he makes a trail of soft, butterfly kisses down the side of my neck. Oh God, I think he must’ve just discovered my most erogenous zone because my body's turning to putty in his arms. Overwhelming lust floods my senses, all the way from where his lips press against my neck down to my toes.

"Why don't we go upstairs, so I can show you exactly how fucking elated I am?"

I scoff because that's not going to happen despite how incredible he and his lips might seem. But I have to admit, there's an irrational part of me that wants take him up on his offer.

"I don't even know your name! Do you really think that I'm just going to go off with you and let you have your way with me after a few corny lines?" I pull back and reply as defensively as possible.

"You're right," he says with a heavy sigh. "I got way ahead of myself. How can I expect you to scream my name while I'm pounding my cock into you if you don't even know it yet?"

"Oh my God," I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief. "I've got a few names for you all right. Here's a hint, they all begin or end with
ass
."

That makes him chuckle but doesn't seem to deter him at all.

"Speaking of asses," he starts and then groans when he bends his knees to dip down and cup my behind with both of his large hands. "Yours is spectacular."

"Wow, you don't give up, do you?" I ask, reaching behind me to slide his hands up higher. Despite my indignation, I'm still turned on beyond belief by this ridiculous man. I'm gonna have to be careful because I'm pretty sure the sexy manipulator could eventually talk me right out of my panties. Not that I’m wearing any at the moment.

"I
always
get what I want,” he responds. “And right now I desperately want to peel this suit down to your hips, so I can lick you between your legs. I'd lap up every single drop of cream from your pussy like a starving stray getting his first taste of milk."

I hear myself make some sort of embarrassing whimpering sound and hope the music drowned it out.

"What's wrong Miss Kitty? Cat got your tongue?" He laughs into my hair, knowing he's stunned me into silence with his naughty rhetoric.

I'm reminding myself of my rapidly fading motto
“Don't sleep with strangers”
while squeezing my thighs together to ease the growing ache when all hell breaks loose. 

Women scream bloody murder, people start pushing each other. I'm too buzzed from alcohol and lust to figure out what's going on or panic at first. Then I see the group of men standing just inside the front door. The men dressed in all black holding guns. They don't look anything like cops, either. With buzz cuts and large, muscular builds, they seem more like military men or deadly assassins compared to the wimpy Barney Fife officers on our small town police force.
The Coughlins could be part of some type of dangerous meathead mafia,
my ridiculous paranoia suggests.

Oh shit. The men's unexpected and antagonistic looking demeanor sobers up my lustful haze. I start looking for Kayla, who was just seconds ago dancing with Dracula right beside me and Batman, but it's futile in the massive crowd. Like fish in a stream, we're all heading farther inside the house, away from the men at the double doors.

"Go!" a deep voice orders from behind me. I think it's my dark knight.

People are shoving me in their urgency to put as much space as possible between themselves and the guys with guns. I stay with the herd as best I can, hoping they know where the hell they're going in this fancy maze. And of course, one of my four inch heel bought from the clearance rack picks that moment to snap. My ankle twists and wobbles and I go down on my hands and knees before I quickly try to push myself back up. Someone steps on my fingers before I can accomplish my goal. I’m still cursing with tears in my eyes when another person nails me in my ribs with their boot.