Heroes: Supers of Project 12: Reverse Harem Heroes

by Angel Lawson

  He places a hand on the tile before him, conjuring up the feel of her hand, the pink of her lips and how fucking breathtaking she is when she comes. The imagery, along with quickening speed, brings him to the painful edge, and one final thought of Astrid riding him from above pushes him over.

  Pressing his forehead to the tile, Quinn catches his breath, and realizes that with Astrid calling it an early night, and the building stress of the day, he’s probably not the only one taking care of himself in the shower.

  He’s just glad he finished before the water runs cold.

  Warrick, Quinn assumes, brought a full feast upstairs to the small sitting area and both Draco and Owen sit with loaded plates in their hands.

  He grabs his own, loading it with roasted chicken and vegetables, only stopping for the most nutritious carbs. He’s starving. Who knew a day of mind-fuckery would make him ravenous?

  He sits next to Owen and nods at Astrid’s closed door. “Did she eat?”

  Owen snorts and points to an empty spot on the table. “That was a pie. She took the whole thing.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Ah. Right.”

  Draco makes a sandwich on his plate, splitting a roll in half and piling it with chicken, cheese and peppers. It’s a tall stack when he’s done, and Quinn watches with amusement as he shoves most of it in his mouth at once.

  After he chews and swallows he says, “So is that normal? Her holing up like that?”

  Owen nods. “Oh yeah, she needs her space. She’s probably freaking out about not having her cat here.”

  “And probably in caffeine withdrawals,” Quinn adds.

  “Definitely.”

  “Okay.” He looks relieved. “I didn’t know if I did something, you know…” his jaw tenses, “wrong, last night.”

  Owe and Quinn glance at one another. They don’t normally discuss their bedroom activities with one another, but it’s known, definitely understood, and when they all made out on the couch that one time all lines of awkwardness vanished. Draco is in the fold now, as much with them as Astrid.

  “Yeah, I don’t think that was a problem,” Quinn says, eating a forkful of pasta.

  “No?” He still looks worried. “I mean, I kind of barged in there and I know she’s the kind of woman that likes to be in charge…”

  Owen leans forward, his blond hair falling in his eyes. “Trust me, Astrid likes it more than one way. She’s uh, pretty adventurous. I mean, don’t get me wrong, this is all new for her, probably for all of us since we were so isolated, but, I’m just saying, don’t be afraid to be yourself with her.”

  This information doesn’t seem to make him feel better and Owen frowns and looks at Quinn. “What?”

  Quinn rests his plate on his knees. “Draco, we don’t compare ourselves. Honestly, we don’t even really talk about it that much. This situation is definitely unconventional, but it works. It works for her and there’s no doubt it helps on the field—when we’re working as a team.”

  What he’s saying sounds so weird but it’s also the truth. There’s not one part of him that’s jealous of the others and he doesn’t really care what they do in the bedroom, outside of a basic interest. The idea of watching Astrid with Owen or even Draco actually kind of turns him on.

  He shoves food in his mouth and doesn’t say that out loud.

  Mr. Perfect’s shoulders finally relax. He leans back in his seat and says, “You know I held off for a long time. I just wasn’t sure if it was right, if I could, you know…share…but being in that box and away from her did something to me. It made me realize that in all of this I’m damn lucky to have someone like her in my life.” He looks at both Quinn and Owen. “You too. After everything with Demetria, I was hesitant to trust anyone else, especially other survivors.”

  Owen holds up his glass and gestures to the others. They both do the same, bringing three glasses of sparkling water into the middle. “To Draco, for finally joining the team.”

  “To Draco,” Quinn adds, enjoying the bond after such a crazy day. It’s nice to have companions that understand. That’s definitely something he and Draco have in common. Trust is hard, and that simulation earlier shook the foundation of what he’d built recently.

  “So,” Draco says, after taking his drink, “is there anything I do need to know?”

  “Don’t touch her doughnuts.”

  “Or try to make her eat healthy.”

  “Or,” Owen says, pointing his fork, “let her cat move into your room. I can’t get rid of him.”

  “She likes to have her back rubbed,” Quinn adds. “And she gives amazing—”

  “Head.” Owen nods vigorously. “Like epic. Her mouth is like magic. She does this thing with your balls—”

  “Thanks.” Draco blinks. “Good to know.”

  “Just enjoy it,” Quinn says in a quiet voice. “Love her and she’ll love you back. For every bullshit day like we had today, preparing to save the world from some jackass that wants to destroy it, we deserve it, and one another.”

  Draco nods. “Good point.”

  “Anyway,” Owen says, propping his feet on the table. Quinn knocks them off and gestures to the food. “I know we’re not talking about our tests today, but I’ll just say I nailed mine.”

  “Mine was awful,” Quinn admits. “Simulation.”

  “Fuck right.” Owen nods and looks at Draco. “What about you?”

  “Physical strength.”

  Quinn groans. “Not fair.”

  He shrugs, but yeah, totally not fair.

  “So you nailed it, too,” Owen says.

  Draco laughs and pops a cherry tomato in his mouth. An ease of friendship ebbs between them now. “Yep. Nailed it.”

  16

  Astrid

  Birds chirping, along with the bright sun reflecting off the ocean outside the window, woke her up early. She stretches, spreading her arms wide across the mattress. With no interruptions, she’d slept like the dead. She needed it. She’d been moving like a zombie for days now. But now that she’s slept and a shade of the caffeine withdrawal headache subsiding, her mind is clear. And there’s one thing on it.

  Casper.

  Yesterday sucked. They tested her echo for hours. Forcing her to push into the minds of the techs. To show what she’d learned to do. How she could alter emotions, change them into what she wanted—not just what they felt or tugging on their memories. She’d grown her abilities in the last few months and Monroe wanted to see it. Not because she was impressed, but because she wanted Astrid to do more.

  Before she gave them another drop of her blood, sweat, and mental tears, she wanted to know about Casper.

  Grabbing a pair of leggings and a hoodie, she steps out of the room. She stops and stares at the scene at the end of the hall. All three of her men are passed out, surrounded by the remains of their dinner. Draco’s long legs splay before him and his head is tilted back against the arm chair. Owen is curled onto his side, his nose scrunched up. She’s not even sure how Quinn has twisted himself into a pretzel on the tiny loveseat. She blinks for a minute, trying to figure out why and how this happened, but in the end, she mutters, “I don’t even want to know,” and turns down the stairs.

  She heads down the main hall and exits the house, heading straight to the testing facility. The sun is bright, forcing her to shade her eyes. For a fleeting moment she wishes they could enjoy this place for what it is: paradise. One thing she learned long ago was that her life wasn’t made for vacations and happiness.

  She was born, then created, for so much more.

  The testing facility is secure, but they’d been scanned to pass through. Astrid places her hand on the sensor and allows the laser to scan her eye. The door clicks and slides open, giving her access to the building.

  Every tech in the room looks up when she enters. More than one holds fear in their eyes. The one she used her echo on yesterday? He looks away and exits. She knows his secrets and they’re not all pretty.

  “Where�
��s Monroe?” she asks. Faces look to the ceiling—no, to an office above the lab. She heads that way, passing the rows of computers and other technology. It’s designed to track and categorize everything about them. She runs up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. The door opens before she gets to the top.

  “Astrid.” Dr. Monroe stands before her in a crisp, white lab coat. “You’re here early.”

  “Just wanted to get a few things out of the way before we started.”

  The doctor replies with a tight smile. “Of course. Come in.”

  Her office is as sterile as her personality, and Astrid knows it’s not worth wasting her time on small talk. She cuts to the chase. “Where’s Casper?”

  Monroe blinks. “I told you, he’s safe.”

  “I want to see him.”

  She eases into her seat behind the desk. “He’s in training. Like you are. I don’t want to interfere with his program. It’s highly sensitive.”

  Astrid crosses her arms. She’s getting an odd vibe off the doctor. She doesn’t think the woman is lying but…there’s something she’s hiding.

  “Casper made incredible progress before we got here. He’d started talking to us more. He saved our lives. He broke free of his agoraphobia.” She studies the doctor. “He’s part of the team and if he’s here he should be with the rest of us in the house.”

  Dr. Monroe leans back in her chair and gestures for Astrid to sit across from her, evening their positions. Astrid sits, but doesn’t take her eyes off the older woman. “I’ve been watching you all for a long time, Astrid. Some of you longer than others. Seeing you all come together has been a dream of mine. I knew if you could find one another your lives would change—society would change. There were risks. Rex. Blaze. Demetria. They allowed the dark side of their nature to overtake their abilities. They were raised by Scheid, not in the loving care of an actual mentor.”

  “I get it. A few of us were luckier than the others. What does this have to do with Casper?”

  “As you know, when Casper’s mentor died it left him in a fragile state. He’d long suffered from his debilitating stutter and overwhelming shyness. He found security and socialization in his games. Then purpose working with Atticus and Holden behind the scenes while you all found one another. While you developed your bond with one another.”

  There’s meaning in her words. Especially the last ones. “We did our best to include Casper.”

  “I know. We saw. But the four of you have forged a strong, intimate, relationship that he’s not a part of.”

  She knows. She knows about their relationship—their relationship outside the fights and battles. If they’ve been watching, what all have they seen? Do they watch her and the others when they make love? Explore and experiment with one another. Anger, filled with bitterness and betrayal, rises in her. She manages to say, “That is none of your business.”

  “But isn’t it?” Monroe asks. Everything about her implies the question is genuine. “I’ve seen what your intimacy can do. How it changes the dynamic of the team. How you trust and support one another. I always knew you would work together, it was part of the original serum we gave you, the ability to forge a bond, but something about your empathy combined with that connection. It created a whole other level of unification. You’ve exceeded all expectations.”

  Astrid blinks, absorbing all of this, but she’s speechless. She feels violated. Embarrassed. Angry.

  Monroe dares to continue. “We knew all along that under that pink hat and the layers of clothing was a very, very strong little girl. We knew you had the shoulders to bear the weight of what was coming. Atticus knew. Jensen knew.”

  “This is a joke,” Astrid finally says. “I’m not the one to carry the weight. What about Quinn? He’s steady and even. And god, Draco. Seriously. Mr. Perfect can do anything.”

  Monroe’s eyes soften and she stands walking around the desk. “They’re good, but you’re the bond. You know that, right? Scheid is bigger than one of you—to fight him you have to be at your physical peak. He’ll expect almost anything—but what he won’t see is how you work together. He’s too much of a narcissist. The idea of you teaming up for the greater good, bonded by your feelings for one another? It’ll blindside him.”

  “Good,” Astrid said, feeling for once like maybe they have the upper hand.

  “So you came here with a question,” Monroe says. To Astrid’s surprise she leans over and takes her hands, opening herself up.

  A wave rolls through her echo, a tougher barrier than she’s ever felt. The doctor is protected by her intellect, ideas, dreams, but she pulls on a thread, the one that leads her to what she came here to find out.

  He’s deep in her mind, way behind the data and figures and blood types at the front of her mind. Astrid latches onto a feeling, because underneath it all that Monroe is revealing what she came here for: Casper. He’s scared, snarky, loyal. With her eyes closed she finds him, tucked in a room surrounded by computers, but there’s another person there. A woman. A flare of her own emotions ripples through Astrid, knocking her out of the echo.

  “Who is that?” she asks, jealously boiling over.

  “Sometimes there are problems bigger than even you can handle,” Monroe says. “I’m getting Casper the help he needs so that he can fully integrate into your team.”

  Astrid frowns. “What does that mean?”

  “Casper was damaged. Broken. Too many years of loneliness, lack of supervision and therapy for his speech impediment. There’s no doubt he needs you and he needs the other survivors, but he also needs something else. Something I can give him, the same way I can help you develop and hone your skills.”

  “You’re treating him—his stutter—”

  “And some of the psychological issues from being alone for so long.”

  A new wave of emotions comes over Astrid; gratitude. She’d always known Casper was just out of reach. She could teach a man to fight, to box, or how to disarm an enemy. She could love them, touch their soul, and give them internal strength, but Monroe was right. She couldn’t help Casper the way he needed. Not yet.

  “When can I see him,” she asks.

  Monroe gives her an understanding smile. “When he’s ready.”

  Astrid nods. “Then I’ll be ready, too.”

  17

  Astrid

  The testing sucks. Pushing and pulling through a dozen variations of events. She gets better at the simulations. Excels at using her echo. Commands at the physical. At night they don’t talk about it, instead they eat, refuel, sleep. Twice she’s pulled Draco into her bed, building their connection. As much as she hates this place, after a week she feels stronger. The clear intent in the guys’ eyes tell her they feel the same.

  It’s after a vigorous workout that she spots Owen, waiting for her outside the locker room. She’s covered in sweat, drenched head to toe.

  “How’d you do?” he asks.

  “Five-minute mile.” She can’t keep the smile off her mouth. “I can’t believe I’m getting faster.”

  “You spent a long time training other people. Your body probably appreciates being pushed.” He leans against the doorframe. “Can I get a minute with you? After you clean up?”

  “What?” she says, tugging at her sweaty top. “You don’t want to hang out with me like this?”

  “Babe, I’ll hang out with you anyway you want, you know that.”

  She leans in and kisses him. He tastes like mint and smells like soap. He’d already freshened up after his training. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  He nods, licking his bottom lip. “Meet me down by the water?”

  “Sure.”

  She doesn’t waste time; showering and changing into a loose tank and cut-off shorts. They’ve been so busy they haven’t explored the island much, and the idea of walking down to the water sounds nice.

  Owen waits by the edge, waves lapping at his toes. She hears his heartbeat over the sounds of the ocean, guiding her like a compass. Whe
n she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his waist and kisses him on the neck.

  “Thanks for coming down here.”

  “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

  His hand slips in hers. “I think I just needed to recharge.”

  She laughs. “Is that what I do for you?”

  He doesn’t answer right away, instead taking her face between his hands and kissing her again and yeah, she feels him relax instantly. He needs her as much as she needs him.

  “The worst part about this place is not seeing you enough,” he confesses.

  “Most people don’t work and live together the way we do back home, you know.”

  “I got spoiled.”

  She smiles, pulling him closer, enjoying the heat from his body. “Oh, you’re definitely spoiled. And entitled. And definitely bratty.”

  He jerks back, expression offended. “What did you say?”

  There’s no mistaking the smirk tugging at his mouth. It only eggs her on.

  She latches her fingers in the waist of his pants. “I said you’re probably dying out here without your video games and recliner and the all-access to walk in my room any time you please.”

  His eyebrow shoots up. “You think I can’t do that here? Walk in your room. Take what I want.”

  She runs a finger down his hard, muscular chest. “I just know that you haven’t.”

  “Because I have control.”

  “Do you?” she tilts her head.

  “Yep, and a spoiled brat doesn’t have control.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  A spark flickers in his bright green eyes. “And who has control…you?”

  There’s a beat between them. One where things shift from playful to something different—something intense. Astrid knows she shouldn’t toy with these men. Especially under the circumstances, but she can’t help herself. She likes to see him riled up. It makes her stomach twist with desire.

  She opens her mouth to reply back, something witty and smart, but Owen lifts her off the ground and carries her toward the ocean. She clings to him.