Superlovin' (2 page)

Big & Bad didn’t even flinch.

He grunted as the blow landed, and she felt it reverberate strangely across her knuckles and up her arm, like a hammer striking an anvil.

Shock rolled across her senses. Until that moment she hadn’t truly considered that he might be
stronger
than she was. His hands shot out, impossibly fast, and before she had time to suck in a gasp he had her pinned to the steel-reinforced doorframe. One of his thick forearms pressed against her ribs below her breasts as his other hand wrapped around her throat, his fingers applying just enough pressure to get her attention. She gripped his shoulders, instinct trumping thought, forgetting all her training as something hot and startling uncoiled in her stomach.

She was
not
getting turned on by being thrown around by a villain. Even if he did move like the devil and look like every kind of sin she’d ever wanted a taste of.

“Disconcerting, isn’t it?” he rasped, his dark eyes fierce from a distance of inches. “It’s much easier to be brave when you know you won’t get hurt, isn’t it, DynaGirl? Throwing around your strength and knowing no one can touch you.”

His vision of her, as some kind of hero bully, was a dash of ice water, bringing her back to her senses. She used a bit of counter-grav to lift her weight off him, easing the pressure on her throat even as she shifted her own grip to his neck, needing both hands to encircle it.

His eyes lit with undisguised fascination as she fought back. “Interesting.”

Had he seriously thought she was cowed?

“Glad I could entertain.” She grabbed him and shot toward the ceiling. They crashed into the support beam, and the building shuddered. His hold on her loosened, so Darla struck his elbows sharply, forcing him to release her entirely—

—and plunge to the floor eight feet below as gravity bitch-slapped him.

He was up almost before she saw him land.
So damn fast
. He reached up and gripped her ankle, flinging her to the ground with enough force to knock her out cold if she hadn’t been built to take it.

Just like him.

Realization hit harder than the hand he slapped on her back to keep her down when she would have flown up again. They couldn’t hurt one another, not by pummeling anyway. They were too evenly matched. If they kept trying, they were going to bring down city hall. Literally.

She’d have to outwit him, but she needed to do it somewhere else. Somewhere open.

She wasn’t sure the building could take much more punishment, and at least if she could get him out of here, he wouldn’t get whatever he’d come for in the safe.

She lay on her stomach on the floor, and he crouched above her to keep her down.

“Ready to play nice?” his electrical current voice rumbled in her ear, sending shocks of warmth to her extremities.

Not in this life.

Twisting in his grip, she earned just enough freedom to flip onto her back. He grappled with her, strong and too fast for her, easily pinning her again, but Darla wasn’t trying to get away. She
wanted
him to keep a good grip on her. She feinted toward a chokehold, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders, and kicked off hard, flying off the floor and through the door into the corridor.

He gave a soft grunt of surprise but didn’t let her go. The hallway whipped past them, too slow for her comfort, but horizontal force was always trickier for her to manipulate than vertical, and the big bastard was
heavy
. When they reached the stairwell, she rocketed them up to street level, ascending so fast his shouted curse fell behind, warping out with the Doppler effect.

The night air was heaven as she flew them through the gaping hole he’d left in the side of the building. Inconsiderate bastard. He probably hadn’t given a single thought to the taxpayer dollars that would go to repairing city hall.

She took them up above the skyline, until the air was biting cold and thin in her lungs. Only then did she look at the man locked in her arms.

His black eyes glittered close to hers, a small smile playing about his mouth. “This is a little extreme, don’t you think? If you wanted to get me alone, princess, all you had to do was ask.”

Chapter Three

In-flight Entertainment

The city lights gleamed, a galaxy below to match the stars above. Darla had flown after dark countless times, enjoying the peace of the cool night sky, somehow feeling more connected to the world as a spectator high above it, but this was different. The man in her arms made the night feel private.

Intimate.

She shouldn’t be thinking of that word in conjunction with a supervillain. It wasn’t like she had any choice but to hold him close. Not unless she wanted to drop him.

Her grip on his shoulders had nothing to do with the muscular strength bunching beneath his jacket. Just like his forearms pressing against her back and mashing her breasts against the rock wall of his chest was about self-preservation more than lust.

Still, his body heat warmed her like a furnace in defiance of the icy bite of the air around them. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he could shoot fire from his fingertips, if the heat radiating off his body was any indication.

The difference in their heights had been equalized by flight. His feet hung in the air below hers, but their eyes were perfectly level.
And their lips…

A dark smile curled his mouth. God, he was attractive. In an entirely inappropriate, dangerous way. She could look at him for days.

And then he had to ruin it by opening his mouth. “You bring me up here to drop me? That’s a little dark for you, isn’t it, princess?”

His black eyes were so cool in the moonlight, so unconcerned. As if flying three thousand feet above the city wasn’t even cause to bat an eye. He dangled there, almost daring her to let him fall, one midnight brow cocked. It was…disconcerting.

“I plan to drop you,” she replied tartly. “In a cell.”

“Good luck finding one that will hold me.” His arms tightened around her, and her heart fluttered as she was reminded of his strength. “Unless you plan on flying me to Area Nine tonight.”

“I don’t have to take you to Area Nine. The new holding cell at the North Courthouse can handle you.”

“You so sure about that, sweetheart? DynaGirl herself could barely handle me.”

She glared into his eyes from a distance of inches. “I handled you just fine.”

“Is that what you call it? Why don’t we go back down to earth and see who gets handled?”

A shiver worked its way down her spine at the wicked invitation in his eyes.
No.
Not from his eyes. Under punishment of death she would swear it was only the icy chill of the air at this altitude making her tremble. She reinforced her glare. “You’ll have plenty of time on earth. I hear Area Nine is lovely this time of year.”

He snorted. “I’d rather you dropped me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Darla resisted the urge to give him his wish, concentrating on navigating to the newly built super-containing North Courthouse, using the distinctive egg-shape of Victory Hall below as a landmark.

She should be ecstatic that she’d caught the bastard. Victory was supposed to be a sweet and heady rush. Champagne corks popping, crowds cheering. She lived for this shit. But tonight she just felt…deflated.

She’d hoped Big & Bad would be more of a challenge. Not that she’d fooled herself into thinking he’d given up. She’d be ready for his tricks once they touched down on solid ground. But still…as much as she loved to win, she hadn’t wanted it to be easy.

He’d been so daunting. She hadn’t been daunted in…ever. But apparently all it took was a few thousand feet of distance from the ground to tame him. What a let down.

Though the height didn’t appear to scare him. She tried not to notice how warm his arms were, wound around her—not clinging, just holding steady. The lack of panicked hands clutching at her and constant begging not to be dropped was rather refreshing. Pity he was an unabashed crook.

“Do you think I’d survive it?” he asked in a conversational drawl, eyeing the city streets far below. “I’ve never been dropped from ten thousand feet before. I might just leave a large divot. Anticlimactic, that.”

“Three thousand. Would you like to test it? I’m happy to oblige.”

“Maybe next time, princess.”

She squelched a flicker of disappointment. There’d been some truth in her taunt. Part of her would have been happy to drop him. Not to hurt him, but to see if he could rise without a scratch. It was the same part that wondered what would happen if she lost consciousness and fell. Her strength protected her from so much, but no scientist had ever adequately explained
why
her body could take so much damage without a mark. And this man, this
villain
, was in the unique position of being like her. So very like her.

It was unsettling. She didn’t want to be like the thief, but she was more tempted than she cared to admit to quiz him about his experiences. If he’d ever been injured. Ever managed to break a bone or slice through the diamond-hard surface of his skin.

Strange that she’d never heard of a villain who shared her abilities.

“You never did introduce yourself,” she said, mimicking his conversational tone. “Doesn’t that violate some villain etiquette guide? The world must fear your name and all that?”

“I prefer to fly under the radar. Leave the glory-seeking to you heroic types.”

“The glory. Of course. That must be why I left my date tonight to come arrest your ass. It has nothing to do with civic duty and an appreciation for justice.” The fib rolled off her tongue, drenched in sarcasm. He didn’t need to know her date had come to an abrupt end when the man she’d thought had boyfriend potential declared she wasn’t feminine enough for him.

Her. A woman who spent the better part of her life in form-hugging spandex and had been called the Jessica Rabbit of crime fighters by drooling newscasters ever since she first put on the cape. Not
feminine
enough.

“Forget your date. He obviously has fucked-up priorities.”

How could he know that?
Their flight path wavered as her concentration slipped, and she scrambled to correct it before he noticed. “What makes you say that?” she asked oh so casually.

“He let you walk out on a date to go meet another man. You should dump him.”

Too late. He already dumped me.
Darla firmed her chin when it would have wobbled, keeping her eyes locked on the skyline. “No one
lets
me do anything.”

“Maybe that’s your problem. You need a firm hand.”

“Just what every post-feminist woman longs to hear.”

“Don’t go making this political. I’m talking about sex.”

A very firm hand crept down to the upper curve of her ass. Darla released one of his shoulders long enough to slap it away, but his hand vanished before she could hit it, and she ended up smacking herself. “Neanderthal.”

“Me?” He raised his brows in feigned innocence that looked utterly ridiculous on his made-for-sin face. “I was just saying, only a weak woman needs to validate her strength by walking all over a man. You aren’t weak. You need someone who can match you.”

“Forgive me if I’m not inclined to take dating advice from a man who’s about to spend the next eight to ten years in a box.” Even if he was freakishly hot. And echoing her own thoughts.

What she wouldn’t give not to have to worry about accidentally cracking her boyfriend’s ribs if she got carried away in the heat of the moment. It was hard to feel feminine when she had to curb every caress. That’s why Kyle’s not-girly-enough complaint had hit so hard—not because she’d deluded herself into thinking he was The One after only three dates, but because it struck too close to the insecurities Darla had tried to bury.

Which fricking pissed her off. DynaGirl didn’t do vulnerable.

Big, Bad & Handsy smirked. “You know I’m right.”

Annoyingly, he was. If only he wasn’t so wrong for her.

She had a new requirement for her dream guy. Strong enough not to be threatened by her was a nice starting point, but
not a supervillain
had just moved to the top of the list.

The rear entrance to the North Courthouse came into view, and she swooped them down to hover above it. In a few seconds he’d be in the holding cell that would be his home until a speedy trial convicted him, and she’d be free to go back to…what? Being lonely? Wallowing in self-pity? This altercation hadn’t been the catharsis she was hoping for at all. If anything, she felt worse.

They were fifty feet above the Courthouse and lowering steadily when he twisted in her arms, looking into the parking lot below where guards with tasers were now crowding out of the doors and pointing to the sky. The call to be on the watch for an airborne arrival would have gone out as soon as the mayor set off Darla’s signal. DynaGirl always got her man.

And what a man…

“Jail, sweet jail.” He took his eyes off the guards below, tipping his head toward hers, stealing into her personal space in an impossibly intimate way. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into baking a file into a cake for me.”

Darla put as much distance between them as she could without dropping him. “You seem confused about the nature of our relationship. You’re the bad guy. I don’t help bad guys. I nail their asses.”

“As inviting as some mutual nailing sounds,” he purred suggestively, “I have a prior engagement I really must get back to.”

“Wha—?”

She didn’t see the blow coming. It landed before she felt him move, rattling her skull like a kettle drum. Her grip loosened, and he followed up with a flurry of quick hits, more startling than painful, as he twisted wildly in her arms. She tried to keep a hand on him, but with a sudden
rip
, unnaturally loud over the frantic shouts from below, he was gone, leaving her with her head ringing, holding two fists of black leather shreds and empty air.

Shake it off.
Darla hesitated only a moment before arrowing to the ground after him, but that flicker of doubt already gave him too much of a head start. She landed nimbly in the divot he’d cratered in the asphalt of the parking lot, whipping around, scanning for him. He was fast, but he couldn’t have gotten far. It had been a matter of seconds.