Temptress (13 page)

“Damn straight,” Tank said.

I summoned Steel’s strength and gave him a quick peck. He tried to slip me tongue, but Tank yanked him back by his collar, and I wiped my lips on the back of my hand. It was easy as it should be, and it felt more and more like Tank’s powers had set us up.

I owed them a thank you.

Tank grabbed me and steered me down the hallway.

“What about me, boss?” Steel called behind us.

“Limo’s full,” Tank said as he tugged me away. “Get a flight back to New York.”

I laughed as he tucked me into the backseat. “Touchy, huh?”

Tank’s eyes were pits of fire. “I’m tired of watching you kiss other guys.”

“I won’t make a habit of it anymore.” I straddled his lap and slipped my arms around his shoulders. I loved his jealousy and his protectiveness. He knew just where to stop so that I didn’t feel smothered. He was mine, and I wanted to make sure he never forgot it. “Want to continue where
we
left off?”

“Absolutely.” He found my mouth, and his touch lit fires inside me. He tasted solid as home-cooked Sunday dinners, and I wanted him in my life for a very, very long time.

“What do we do now?” I pulled away. I had to ask.

Tank stroked my neck with the pad of his thumb. “There’s a lot of trouble in Vegas. I’m thinking the Ten need to franchise.”

“Yes!” I threw my arms around him, and we tumbled onto the seat, sharing a long, luxurious kiss that melted the last of the ice inside me. For a while, we lay glued together. As I listened to Tank’s heartbeat, I couldn’t control the urge to smile.

I might be a hero, but Tank could save me anytime he wanted.

About the Author

Lola Dodge was forged in the suburbs, tested in the retail wastelands and reborn as a romance writer after several strong cocktails. Armed with her M.F.A. in Writing Popular Fiction, she travels the world in search of story fodder and men with accents.

www.loladodge.com

Twitter
@Lola_Dodge

No super deed goes unpunished…

Breaking Bad

© 2012 Jodi Redford

A
Midnight Justice
Story

It’s been twenty-five years since the last Light Guardian was wiped out. Or so it’s believed. Ruby Winston is about to blow the lid off that theory, even though it’ll bring every Shadow Czar minion down on her ass.

She’s always known she was different from the rest of the evil-dictators-in-training Winstons. Uncovering the secret half of her gene pool proves it. Now she’s out to bring down her late father’s mind-control soda empire—and break the Shadow Czars’ hold on Earth.

Problem is, becoming a superhero overnight isn’t as easy as it looks.

Teague Younger has his own secrets to keep: his heritage, and his fierce determination to exact revenge on his friend and mentor’s murderer. So far he’s kept his cover—until he’s forced to use his Light Guardian powers to save Ruby from a sticky situation.

Thrust together and on the run, Teague and Ruby form a wary alliance as they desperately fight their circuit-blowing attraction. With an army of Shadow Queen minions hot on their tails, they might have a hard time surviving the night, much less ignoring their hearts.

Warning: This book contains mind-controlling beverages, evil dictators and minions, excessive use of spandex, and enough electrifying sex to melt an ice train.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Breaking Bad:

Teague stalked toward a cluster of scrub pines in the distance. He halted a good thirty yards back from the trees and waved his arm. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“But…we’re too far away.”

“You might not even get this close to the queen before she fries your ass.”

Her stomach clenched. Determined to prove to them both that she wasn’t entirely inept, Ruby lifted her shaking hands and directed a bolt toward the shrubs. The charge hit at least ten yards short, fizzling ineffectually into the parched dirt.

“Try it again.”

She repeated the maneuver, this time landing the strike even farther from the target. Embarrassment and defeat caved her chest.

“You’re not focusing.”

“I am. I’ve been aiming for that middle tree each try.”

“I’m not talking about outward focus.” He moved behind her. “It’s as much about the mental as physical. To properly handle your energy, you first need to understand it. Connect with it.” His warm, calloused palms glided along her arms, positioning them in a straight horizontal line. “This is the best way to ground yourself. The energy resides as much within your environment as it does inside you.” His fingertips grazed the sensitive undersides of her forearms, causing her to shiver in pleasure. “Do you feel the build-up starting?”

A sharp tingle shuttled through her clitoris. Oh yeah. She was definitely feeling
something
. Probably not what he’d been referring to though. “I—I’m not sure.”

Teague pressed into her, the firm, muscular planes of his chest and abdomen contouring to her back like the delicious, masculine version of memory foam. “How about now? Feeling anything?”

She gulped, not entirely certain he wasn’t referring to the thick bulge of his erection prodding the base of her spine. “Err…possibly.”

“Good.” His hands coasted along her upper arms and over her shoulders. He continued following the slope of her neck, his fingers a maddening butterfly dance along her overheated skin. She shook as he traced the shell of her ears before combing his fingers through her hair, sifting the strands over her shoulders. His deep inhalation stirred the fine hairs at her temple, and she closed her eyes on a shaky breath.

“Do you feel it, Ruby?” His hands retraced their path, this time moving beneath her arms. “Do you feel our energy weaving?”

Oh my God. She
did
. Teague’s power was a sensual caress along her synapses. It licked at her own energy, engaging it in an erotic tango that felt…like sex. She bit her lip to stifle a moan. Teague’s bold hands roved inward, and her eyes snapped open as they closed over her breasts. A blast of energy showered from her, acting as a turbo boost to the discharged bolt. It slammed into the center tree across from them, sheering it in half.

Unable to believe her own eyes, she released an excited whoop of joy. It took a moment to realize that Teague was no longer touching her. Disappointment smothered her brief happiness. Pivoting, she met his guarded expression. Painfully aware of the tight ache in her nipples, she hugged her torso. “You stopped.”

“It was the end of our first lesson.”

She frowned. “That was a lesson?”

“Our energy often brings with it a sexual charge for us. Tap into that essence, and it can trigger a power surge similar to a climax.”

Her cheeks heated. “I thought you were touching me because you wanted me.”

A dark intensity entered Teague’s eyes. “I want to fuck you so badly, my balls are blue. But giving in to that urge would be stupid.”

Heaviness sat like an elephant on her chest. “Why?”

“We’re as different as two people can get, Ruby. You want to save the world, and I just want revenge and to save my own ass. You’re better off without me.”

“Don’t I get a say in this decision?”

“No. One of us has to keep some damn sense.” His jaw locked into a rigid line, Teague strode past her and headed to the copse of trees.

She stared at his retreating back, the ache in her heart increasing with each step he took away from her. He should be the last person on Earth capable of tying her emotions into a tangle of messy knots. He was absolutely right about them being wrong for each other. The smartest thing she could do right now was walk away.

Her legs wobbly, she started across the dusty plain, her unwavering sight set on Teague. She reached the ring of trees, and he turned to face her, his mouth a grim line. “Ruby—”

Planting her palms squarely in the center of his broad chest, she shoved him against the trunk of the nearest oak. “You said what you had to say. Now it’s my turn.” Before he could interrupt or argue, she stood on tiptoe and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. A harsh breath rattled from his lungs, and she slid her hand behind his neck. The next second, the lush, wet heat of his tongue thrust inside her mouth as he grasped her ass and hauled her up against him. Locking one leg around his waist, she rubbed against his thickening erection and whimpered.

Re-angling his mouth for a deeper, hungrier kiss, he swung her around until her back was the one pushed against the rough bark of the tree. Gripping her thigh higher, he ground his pelvis into hers. The friction tore a moan from her throat. Scraping his teeth along her jawbone, Teague slid a hot, open-mouthed kiss toward the sensitive crook of her neck.

Her insides melting, she shivered. She wanted nothing more desperately than to feel the thick, hard length of his cock slide deep in her core, filling the emptiness and banishing her ever-present worries for a blissful moment. “Please, make love to me.”

A tremor racked Teague’s body. She sensed the tension in him. The struggle for his control. She gyrated her hips, earning his rasping groan. “Damn it, Ruby. I’m not fucking you against this tree.”

She pulled him in for another devouring kiss and gloried in the lusty moan that rumbled through his chest. His hand slipped between them and fumbled with her zipper. An instant later his palm was cupping her mound and two fingers were buried in her pussy. She gasped at the unexpected stretch. “That isn’t what I want.”

Ignoring her, he pumped his fingers and ghosted his thumb over her clit. She sank her nails into his rock-hard biceps and fought for breath. “N-not this way.”

He increased the pressure on her inner walls, hitting the sweet spot that brought stars dancing in her vision. She bowed her back, trying to stave off the approaching climax. His gaze hot with determination, Teague hooked his fingers, his aim precise and devastating.

She could resist this bad boy…if he wasn’t so darned good at it.

Superlovin’

© 2012 Vivi Andrews

A
Midnight Justice
Story

Darla Powers, a.k.a. DynaGirl, is the Jessica Rabbit of crime fighters, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy finding a date. When her latest ex opines she’s not helpless enough to make him feel manly, she flies off to take out her romantic frustrations on a villain dumb enough to pick tonight to break into a secret government vault.

Lucien Wroth’s father may be a famous supervillain, but Lucien doesn’t see himself as a bad guy. Just one determined to free his baby sister from a supercriminal’s clutches. He’s this close to getting his hands on a vital set of schematics when one sultry superheroine catches him elbow-deep in a top-secret safe.

Darla is horrified when Lucien’s pretty face—and bulging muscles—distract her enough to let him get away. No one escapes DynaGirl. But somewhere along the way to getting revenge for her public humiliation, she and Lucien become uneasy allies…resisting an all-too-easy attraction. Suddenly she suspects the perfect man for a good girl just might be a very bad boy.

Warning: This book contains heroes, villains, mind-games, epic battles, bustiers, leather, and an infamous “Women of the Cape”
Maxim
photo spread.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Superlovin’:

“You’ll never…escape,” she declared breathlessly, looking rather adorably determined laid out flat on the cement with rubble in her hair.

He would’ve laughed if he could spare the oxygen. “You don’t know how to…admit defeat, do you?” He couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. Deluded though it may be.

“What makes you…think I’m…defeated?”

“The inability to get a full sentence out without gulping for air is a tell, sweetheart,” he grunted, barely getting the sentence out himself without taking a gulp.

“I’d like to see you fly across the city twice in an hour, one of those times carrying a two-ton delinquent.”

He arched a brow. “I’m a big boy, but I’m not quite that big, princess.”

Her eyes narrowed at the suggestive lilt in his voice, pretty mouth pursing. “I was talking about the weight of your ego.”

“Then you must be constantly exhausted. How do you manage to lift yours, even with the superstrength?”

She made a face at him. The darling of the press, always poised and perfect, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. Which, perversely, just made him want to kiss her.

Not a bad idea, actually.

He needed something to distract her at the right moment, and nothing was likely to unsettle the Powers Princess more than one of the unwashed masses daring to lay his lips on her. And, yeah, he was a guy, so he’d pretty much wanted to lay one on her since she’d posed for
Maxim
’s Women of the Cape issue. He’d dreamt about that magazine—dark, steamy, grinding, Technicolor dreams with Miss Goody Two Shoes as their very naughty star. Those pillowy lips were an open invitation, far too wicked for someone so sanctimoniously pure.