Anarchy Found (SuperAlpha #1)

by J. A. Huss

  I can’t. I won’t.

  “You rewrote those scientists,” she says, refocusing me back to our conversation.

  “Yes. I rewrote them. Changed them. Made them want to commit suicide once I activated nerve centers in their brains using a special light pattern.”

  She stares at me for a second, like she’s putting the pieces together. “You killed another one, didn’t you?”

  I nod.

  “I went to look at the scene today and the maintenance guy was changing out the fluorescent lights above his desk. You used them. Made them flicker. That was the trigger?”

  I nod again. “Many organisms on earth are programmed to respond to changes in light. Migration of animals and birds. Reproductive cycles. Hibernation in bears. All these things are biologically programmed into their brains. And the Prodigy School figured out a way to make people violent using light to trigger it.”

  She lets out a long breath and then she places her palms flat against the table and stares at them. “What do your hands do?”

  “Nothing spectacular. The special food I consume feeds the virus inside me which powers my brain like electricity powers a computer hard drive. It generates a lot of heat that has to be dissipated. I do that through my hands.”

  “They’re vents. Like the pads on a dog’s foot.”

  “Simply put, yes. But they have a few practical applications. They are magnetic and the color of the light can be altered to act like a laser in a scanner.”

  She stares at me with her mouth partly open. In awe? I almost chuckle. Hardly. More like in shock or disgust. “And me? What part do I play in all this?”

  I shrug. “You’re the one running the show, Molly. They made you to stop me if I ever went too far.”

  “Like how a superhero opposes a supervillain?”

  “I guess. But more like a bomb and the wires that control the bomb. I’m the bomb.”

  “And I’m the wires.”

  “We’re an unfinished project. I got you out before the really bad stuff started. It’s part of the reason I agreed to Thomas’ plan. First they put us together as partners. Then they made us hurt each other. In my case, they made me take care of you afterward. They bonded me to you. Made me sick at the thought of hurting you. Behavioral conditioning, genetic manipulation. And other stuff. It’s too much to explain simply. But even now, after all these years, I would not be able to kill you.”

  “Lucky me,” she whispers.

  “But you could kill me quite easily.”

  “What? How?”

  “That was the purpose of the Omega. To kill us after we were no longer useful. If your training had completed then you’d be able to hold a gun to my head and I’d be powerless to stop you.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, Lincoln.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I got you out before that happened.”

  “Yeah.” She looks down at her hands again. “So those people you’re killing. They’re bad, right?”

  “Very bad.”

  “And that sorta makes you good, right?”

  “It’s debatable, but I’m doing my best.”

  “So…” She pushes her palms against the table and stands up. “You really are Batman?”

  “No,” I say, letting a small chuckle escape. “He’s not real, Molly. I am. And even though what I’m telling you seems pretty fantastic, it’s my life and it’s not romantic or inspiring or any of that fantasy bullshit they push with a character like that. It would take a lot of effort to rise to larger-than-life status and even more to be considered the good guy. Because that’s what you’re thinking, aren’t you? Good guys don’t kill people in the name of revenge.” I rise from my seat and walk around to meet her. “I’d really have to want it and—”

  “But if you did want it…” She cuts me off, steps around the table, and walks towards me. She stops when we are only a foot apart and looks up at me with her wide hazel eyes. “Then you could use all that super stuff to do good things instead of bad. To help people.”

  “Help which people?” I snarl. “Blue Corp? Those people? They hired scientists who did this, Molly. They made me hurt you. They changed us and we can’t ever get that back.”

  “So you’re going to just kill them all? One by one?”

  “Not all,” I say, turning away so she can’t see the evil smile. “Only the ones who deserve it.”

  “But who are you to pass judgment on them? Who are you to say they can’t be saved?”

  “You’re missing the point, Molly.” I’m really starting to lose patience. “These people don’t deserve to be helped. They ruined us. They stole our childhood and made us do unspeakable things to each other. So let me just say it straight out. I’m not interested in saving people. And if you know the history, neither was Batman. He was out for revenge, just like me. Saving people was a consequence of taking out those he hated.”

  “I don’t think so, Lincoln,” she says, shaking her head. “People make choices and if you’re a superhuman, then couldn’t you just choose to be a superhero?”

  “But who would play the villain?” I give her a sideways smile. “Not you.” I laugh. “You’re not wired to hurt. You’re wired to save. I made sure of it.”

  “Except in your case. You said I’m able to hurt you. And I’m not saying I want to be your opposite, Lincoln. I’m just saying you could be your opposite.”

  I run my hand through my hair and turn away before I tell her more. “We have a plan, Molly. And nothing you say will stop it from happening.”

  I expect her to get angry. Maybe slap my face or order me to get out of her house and never come back. But she doesn’t do those things. She walks up to me, takes my hand and presses our palms together. “You’re so warm here.”

  “And so cold everywhere else.”

  “No,” she says, gripping my hand and placing it over her cheek. “You’re warm everywhere. And if you can reprogram people like you say, then you can do things like cure mental illness, Lincoln. You could heal people with this science. You could change terrible things and make things better. You could be a hero. The world needs a hero, Lincoln.”

  I lean down and kiss her mouth, speaking into it softly. “No one needs a hero like me, Molly. The road to hell is always paved with good intentions.”

  “Everyone needs a hero, Lincoln, and if you’re the only one we have, then you can’t say no.” Her words are so soft. She pours out her gentle nature into the grotesque malformation of my hand as she presses it against her cheek. “The world needs a champion to stand up for it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say, biting her lip and kissing her again. “I want to take you to bed and fuck you.”

  “We need someone who will fight against injustice,” she says, placing her hand on my chest. Just this small bit of heat from her touch makes my cock grow.

  “Fighting is something I do, gun girl. But only for the right reasons. I’ll fight you right now if you say no to this.” She laughs when I take her hand and push it down the front of my pants. She grabs at my bulge and I can’t help but grin. “Just don’t stop touching me.”

  “We need someone who will stand tall in the face of adversity.”

  “We can do it standing if you want.” I grab her ass, lift her up, and back her up to a wall. “I’m good with wall sex.”

  “Someone who believes in the value of a good deed, Lincoln.”

  “Are you listing me, gun girl?”

  “No.” She laughs. “I’m just saying we can use what they did to you in the past and turn it into something good instead.”

  “Well, let’s fuck first. We can talk about all this side bullshit later.” I kiss her hungrily. I grope her breasts, casting a yellow-orange haze across the t-shirt she stole from me this morning. “Take this off,” I say. “My hands are busy.”

  She reaches back, her breasts rising and stretching with her arms as she whips her shirt off. I grab one breast so hard, she whimpers. The inh
ibition sickness slams me back from my lust as I realize I hurt her with that move. “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “I like it, Lincoln,” she whispers back. “I like it a little rough.”

  “It makes me sick if I physically hurt you, Molly. So I can’t get carried away.”

  “You don’t know what hurts me. I know what hurts me. So you need to retrain yourself, Super Alpha.”

  “No stupid nicknames,” I growl.

  “You call me gun girl. So I can call you something too.”

  “Yeah, because that name is damn cute and reminds me of that day out on the road. Super Alpha is just stupid.”

  “Yeah, it’s stupid. Considering you’re not even alpha. I am.”

  “Shit, woman.”

  She laughs and kisses me on the neck, whispering in my ear. “Show me how alpha you are, Lincoln. Control me. Fuck me hard. Bite my nipples. Pound your cock into my pussy until I scream. I promise you, none of those screams will be from the pain.”

  Good God. I push her harder against the wall. Molly Masters might have delusions of grandeur. She might see me as some superhero capable of cleaning up corruption and doing good deeds. And I might not be the hero she’s looking for, but Super Fuckman I can do.

  “Show me, Alpha,” she moans, rocking her hips back and forth across my cock, trying to drive me crazy. “Show me the difference between pain and pleasure.”

  “Be careful what you wish for, Detective. Because you’re about to get it.”

  She squeals as I lift her up into my arms and carry her to the stairs, sitting her ass on a step halfway up. “Unbutton,” I order, pointing to her pants.

  She obeys and then I grab the hem of her jeans and pull until they come flying off. “Let’s go upstairs,” she says.

  “Let’s do it right here,” I counter. I undo the button and drag the zipper down my pants and then shove the fabric down until my cock springs out.

  “No,” she squeals. And then she tries to turn and crawl up the stairs, but I flip her back around and press her hands into the step above her head. “Are you alpha enough to hold me down?”

  “I’m gonna make you pay for that,” I say.

  She squeals and tries to escape as I reach for her breast. But I grab her ankle and she goes crazy. Her whole body starts contorting. “I’m ticklish!”

  “Hold still then, gun girl.”

  She stops, or tries her best. Little giggles are still erupting out of her mouth. I’m being rough with her, but she’s sending me all the right signals. I just need to learn to read her better. Know her better. Teach her how I like it, and let her show me how she responds.

  I spread her legs open on the stairs and lick her pussy. She sucks in air and then holds it in as my tongue sweeps around her folds. “Oh,” she moans. “My fucking God.”

  I lick her again, then catch her soft skin between my teeth and give it a nip. She jumps, squealing, and the nausea rolls though me and I stop immediately.

  A hand on my shoulder gives me reassurance. “It’s OK, Lincoln. I love it. Don’t get my signals mixed up.”

  “I’ll never hurt you again, Molly. Ever. I promise. And if you need a hero, I’ll be your hero. You belong to me. You are my Omega and I love that. I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything.”

  “Then take me the way you want, Alpha. Because we start now. This is our beginning. Tonight. Right here on my stairs. I want you to fuck me until you feel sick, then do it again and again until it doesn’t make you sick anymore. So next time you won’t have to wonder where my limits are.”

  Jesus Christ. Molly Masters is my fantasy realized.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two - Molly

  His mouth is driving me crazy and it’s not nearly enough.

  I don’t even know what to do except let him know I want more. So I thread my fingers into his unruly, bad-boy hair and grab hold. “Lick me,” I say, looking into his flashing eyes. “I’ll beg for it if you want. But please, just keep going.”

  “Mmmmm,” he says around my nipple. “I like begging. But let’s make this a little more interesting.” And then he lowers himself down to my pussy and sucks on my clit.

  “Jesus,” I whisper. “I agree, no matter what your idea is.”

  He laughs into my pussy and this makes my back arch and my nipples jut up into hard peaks. His tongue feels like magic and when he pulls away, I try my best to make him continue. “Easy.” His words vibrate against my clit and drive me wild. “Let’s have some fun.”

  “I’m fine with this kind of fun,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”

  “But games are good, gun girl. And this one especially. It’s called pain and pleasure. I get to do anything I want. You get to tell me to keep going or stop and try something else. But you can’t be shy, Molly. You just have to trust me, open yourself up to new things, and be honest. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  My heart starts beating fast. I’ve never been adventurous in bed but I’m willing to give it a shot. Take one for the team, as they say. “I’m your captive,” I say. His brows furrow and that little growl he does makes me shiver with anticipation. “I’m your prisoner, Lincoln. And I’m ready.”

  He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes fixed on mine, those little flecks of amber shining intensely. “OK,” he says. He places his palms in that tender spot of skin that forms a dent behind each knee and rolls my legs forward, spreading them wide. I expect him to keep licking and sucking my pussy, but he dips down lower and his tongue sweeps against my little pucker of an asshole.

  I tense up and draw in a gasp of air.

  “Pain or pleasure?” he asks between licks.

  “Pleasure, but—”

  “Be patient,” he commands, cutting me off. “Don’t expect anything, and don’t get ahead of yourself. OK?”

  I nod and whisper, “OK.”

  As soon as the word comes out of my mouth his fingers are probing. He’s got his gloves off and even though the leather was the softest thing I’ve ever felt, his touch is softer. A gentle sweep, a lick and a suck, and a few breaths of air caressing the desire between my legs make me want to be wild.

  But his slow patience, his complete attention, and his gentle nature as he explores the depths of my sexuality make me want to be still.

  His fingers drift up so he can gather the wetness of my folds and drag it back down to where his tongue is still licking. Slowly he brushes the rim of my ass with my own desire. “Pain or pleasure?” he asks, the heat of his words making me close my eyes.

  “Pleasure,” I whisper.

  His fingers are already seeking out new territory before my answer is complete. He pushes against the tight muscles of my ass, and I wriggle away from the shock of it. “Pain,” I say.

  He moves along without comment, his tongue making one more swirl around my clit before he drops my legs and crawls up the stairs, kissing his way up my belly at the same time. He pauses to suck on my left nipple, squeezing the right breast so hard, I gasp. But I say, “Pleasure.”

  “Good girl,” he says, pleased. “Let’s finish upstairs.” And then he sweeps me into his arms and carries me up. I’m about to tell him which way to turn at the top, but then I remember he’s been here. He knows exactly where to take me. Left, and then into the bedroom, where he flips on the light with an elbow as we pass over the threshold. He lays me down on the bed, my covers all rumpled because I can’t even remember the last time I made the bed.

  His pants are barely perched on his hips and his cock is long and hard, pushing through the gap made by the open zipper. I can’t help but look. He’s huge. We’ve had sex twice before but I’ve never seen him in the light.

  “You want to put that—”

  “Easy, girl,” he says, crawling up the bed towards me. “I told you not to get ahead of yourself. I know what I’m doing.”

  He stares down at me, then cups my face and kisses me on the lips. A soft kiss. No tongue or anything, so I open my mouth and seek hi
m out.

  “So eager.”

  “So horny.” I laugh.

  “Shhh,” he says, admonishing me. “Turn over on your stomach.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Pain or pleasure?” he asks.

  “You haven’t done anything.”

  “Then why are you so nervous?”

  I let out a long breath and turn over, my ass up in the air. He smacks it. Hard. It makes me yelp out and try to sit up. But he places his hand firmly on the cheek he just smacked, only this time it’s soft and gentle. “Pain or pleasure?” he says, caressing the sting away.

  “Um…” I’m not sure. He did hurt me. And I’m pretty sure I have a bright red handprint on my bottom right now. But the soft touches afterward make the pain almost delightful. “Pleasure,” I finally say.

  “Mmmm,” he says, leaning over to hum into my ear as he straddles my calves. I can feel how hard he is when he presses himself against my legs. “Right answer.”

  My heart starts beating faster with anticipation but I’m immensely proud that I pleased him. I start to relax and then his hand comes down again with a sharp crack.

  “Ow,” I say, coiling in on myself. And when I look over my shoulder, he’s doubled over, his hand across the taut muscles of his abs. “Lincoln?” I ask, panic starting. “Lincoln, are you OK?”

  “I’m fine,” he manages after a few seconds to let the feeling pass. “Inhibition sickness. If I hurt you, believe me, I know it. I’m sorry.”

  “We’re testing the limits, though, right? And I wasn’t really hurt, Lincoln. I just reacted wrong. I like the soft caresses after the smacks.”