by Lola Dodge
“Where is she?”
“Roof. Trying to get her powers under control.” Tank’s newspaper rustled. “And I’m cheating by saying this, but if she wasn’t afraid of hurting you, she’d be the one in this chair.”
Damn. I needed to see her. Needed to touch her and mark her with my scent. I hated that Tank knew things about her that I didn’t.
Tank sighed. “Think you guys can keep the thoughts down enough that I don’t have to flee the state?”
“No promises.” I yanked out my IV and hopped off the bed. Not smart. I wobbled but grabbed a chair before I bit it. After a few shaky steps, my feet moved better. But not perfect. Super or not, major blood loss stung. So did medical staples.
I shambled to the elevator and hauled my way up the last set of stairs to the roof. I smelled her before I saw her.
Ivory’s scent was amplified. It was her own icy-sweetness multiplied by a thousand, and it was as tempting as it was frightening. She’d been powerful before, but now her energy crackled.
Turning the corner, I skipped a breath.
It was a winter wonderland in the middle of Manhattan. Snowbanks mounded the roof and Ivory lay in the middle of it all.
A snow angel.
My snow angel.
Ice scaled over her arms like armor. She took deep breaths and the ice receded, but snowflakes fell from the sky.
I didn’t want to break the magic, but I had to hear her voice. “Having trouble?”
As she jerked, icy spikes pin-cushioned her body. Good thing I hadn’t tried to jump her.
A few more deep breaths and the ice melted away. “You’re well?” She ignored my question.
“Fine.” And I was. In front of Ivory, the pain and weakness all flowed away. I pushed through snow, blazing a path toward her. “You saved me.”
“No.” She stood and a cascade of sparkling ice shed from her. “You saved me. I would’ve been transported home like a log for my mother’s hearth.”
“You’re the princess?”
“Not anymore.”
My chest clenched, but I had to know. “Will you go home? To confront her? Or back to your old life...”
“I have no home now.” She lifted a hand that glistened with ice, and waved it over the wintry roof-scape. “I took the power from Kevan and the others, and we turned them over to the police. I wouldn’t have been welcomed before that, and now...I can’t control it.”
My pulse sped. Maybe...
“Say it again.”
“What?” Ivory’s brow wrinkled.
“You lost control.”
“I lost all control.”
That was exactly what I wanted to hear. “About fucking time.”
IVORY
Jag’s smile heated my blood. Goddess, it was amazing to see him on his feet. Waiting for him to heal had been agonizing. I’d thought...
But here he was, up and needling me again. I’d even missed that.
“You’re pleased?”
“I’m fucking ecstatic.” Jag plowed through the snow until he loomed in front of me.
“I’m dangerous.” So much energy clamored inside me. I had to vent it constantly or I’d blink and find Manhattan buried in a few feet of unseasonable snow. I’d spend the rest of my life on the edge, always close to losing myself to the torrent of ice.
“So am I.” His fangs extended. “We all are.”
“But you control your beast. It doesn’t control you.”
“Ruin fried our flat screen last week and Nihil ashed his computer. Hell, Cyclone floods his floor every other day. No one expects us to be perfect.”
A wisp of hope grew inside me. But... “The workers in your office. And the police and other humans you work with. It’s not safe for me to be around them.”
“So don’t be. There’s no rush. Figure out how to handle it, and in the meantime, Boss will keep you honest. We’ve got an investigation to finish together, right?”
Tank. I’d forgotten his ability to suppress my powers. I’d thought it an annoyance, but now it was a blessing. He could stop me from causing harm. And Jag was right. We’d taken care of Kevan, but the hateful masterminds who wanted all supers dead were still out there. Maybe I could have a purpose.
“And you?” I shook another layer of ice off my shoulders. “You’ll be in the most danger if you stay close to me.”
“You won’t hurt me.” Jag leaned down until our eyes were level. “And fair warning, this is about how close I plan to stay. I’ll help you deal with whatever you need to deal with.”
As warmth spread through my limbs, some of the ice melted. “Am I truly welcome here?”
“Valdís.” Jag touched my cheek. “Anywhere I am, I’ll make a place for you.”
“Call me Ivory.” I covered his hand with my own and heat soaked into my skin. “I need a fresh start.”
“You’ll stay?”
“Yes.” Where else would I go? I belonged neither with the ice people, nor with normal humans.
Jag understood what it was to be in-between.
Both of us were too wild, and as a pair...we fit.
He offered me a hand.
I was quite capable of walking on my own, but I didn’t want to when I could stay connected to him. As soon as he had me in his grasp, he growled and swung me off my feet. No man had ever been able to do that.
“Since we’re starting fresh, you might as well move down to the tenth floor. Better lighting down there.” Jag kicked open the roof door.
“Is that all?”
“No.” He lifted me up and crushed my mouth with a deep, deep kiss. I was breathless when we hit the elevator, and he only paused long enough to punch the button.
The doors almost closed on us three times before we stumbled into his apartment. Heat seared into me. Jag’s breath, his hands, everything was so warm. We finally fell onto his bed, tangling until he felt like a part of me. One I wasn’t willing to let go.
“I want you to stay with me.” Jag lifted onto his elbows. “I’m a possessive bastard, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here.”
“Do I look like I’m running?” I arched up and planted a kiss on his collarbone.
“God, no.” He dropped and rolled, crushing me in his arms. “You look perfect.”
“Then we don’t need to talk anymore, do we, my jaguar?” I stroked down his chest, over the taut muscles, so warm, so welcoming.
This was where I belonged.
He growled and flipped me again. This time, he sat on top, pressing me into the mattress. “I’ll be yours anytime.” Jag began unbuttoning my shirt. “But one favor?”
“Yes?” Transfixed by his fingers, I was in no position to refuse.
“Call me Balam.” He took my nipple between his teeth.
“Balam...” My spine arched.
“Don’t worry about overusing it.” He added a swirl of tongue and moved to feed at my mouth again. “My Ivory.”
So flushed and heated, the power inside me misted away. All that existed was this bed and my beautiful creature.
My hunting partner.
My lover.
My balance.
I hadn’t known how empty I was. Now I overflowed.
“I will never let you go.” I spoke the words in my language, but a growl rumbled in response.
“Don’t know what it means, but you’re mine now.”
Yes.
I was.
THE END… for now
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<3 Lola
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&nb
sp; A seductress. A super brain.
She’s an indie operative who only works alone, stealing other super heroes’ powers with a kiss and bringing down the bad guys. Those stolen powers add up to a crazy arsenal, but Temptress isn’t built for super strength and shooting laser beams. Her body is falling apart and a teensy mission slip-up gets her tangled with the Manhattan Ten.
He’s the M10’s leader. The man, the myth, the Mensa-conquering legend. Nothing escapes Thinktank’s calculations…
Until a run-in with Temptress leaves him powerless.
Superpowers stolen with a kiss can only be returned with a kiss. Now natural enemies can only get closer. And closer. And closer…
It’s love at first fight in the second volume of the Manhattan Ten Series.
[A novella-length superhero romance of 30K words. Rated 18+ for adult language and sexual content.]
TEMPTRESS
The Manhattan Ten Series, Book Two
JENNY
I sat at the bar, stirring an amaretto and orange and waiting for the blond muscle head in the corner to look my way. He and his buddies were preoccupied sucking test tubes from the shot girl’s cleavage. Their cheers and catcalls tangled with the thumping hip-hop, and my head pounded.
Left alone, I would’ve been snuggled in sweats and glued to the Food Network.
Not trawling the bars.
But when was I ever left alone?
No way was I missing my Iron Chef for this frickin’ mission. It was time for Plan B.
I swiped my fingers in the condensation on my glass and rubbed at my mascara. Once raccoon eyes were fully in effect, I rumpled my blonde ringlets, slipped my dress straps off my shoulders and casually elbowed my glass as I stumbled off the barstool.
Crash.
That turned some heads. The bachelor party cheered, and my mark whistled with two fingers in his mouth.
Cute.
I swayed over, stumbling past the shot girl. Biceps caught me before I could hit the floor.
“You okay?” He licked his lips, and I could feel him eyeing the smudged make-up and slipping neckline. As much as I despised it, the floozy ploy never failed.
“Fiiiiine.” I pulled away and faked another stumble.
He caught me again. “What’s your name, sugar?”
I wanted to knee him in the balls for the ‘sugar’, but I could do that on my own time. “It’s Jenny.” I didn’t even bother with an alias. All I wanted was to get out of here.
The sooner the better with this guy.
I giggled and stroked his arm. “What are you, a boxer?”
“They call me Steel.” He puffed out his chest, waiting for me to recognize the name.
It took me a second to bite back a snicker, but hopefully he took the silence as awe. “You’re the Steel? What’re you doing in Vegas?”
“Jag’s bachelor’s party.” Steel tipped his head toward the cat-clawed future groom, who—to his credit—was actually trying to refuse a lap dance. “The Manhattan Ten are in the house.”
Always with the superhero card. But if Steel wanted to brag, I could play that game. All the better to get back in time for the Battle Prosciutto.
“Ohmigod!” I fisted my hands in Steel’s shirt. “I love you guys!”
Steel chuckled. “Want an autograph?”
“I think I have a Sharpie or…” I fumbled with my purse.
“Chill.” Steel tugged me away. “Let’s go upstairs. I left some photos in the VIP lounge.”
Lamest. Pickup line. Ever.
With Steel’s super-strength, I couldn’t get free without causing a scene, and the mission was a covert capture.
Coded DNGC.
Do Not Get Caught.
I let Steel pull me up the ramp, faux-giggling all the way. The bouncer was an ex-NFL linebacker, but he jumped out of Steel’s way like a pimple-faced freshman from the chess club.
The rest of the Manhattan Ten clustered around stripper poles, more or less oggling the dancers. Cyclone was the most enthusiastic, shooting jets of water at the chick in the nurse costume, soaking her teensy scraps of fabric.
Such class, our heroes.
My stomach flip-flopped as I counted them. Steel and Cyclone. Jag, Jet, and Thunder. Plus Red Ruin and Nihil lurking somewhere in the club, and Thinktank in the corner.
He was staying out of the action. He sat with his eyes closed and an untouched drink.
I’d thought Steel was exaggerating the whole “all of us are in the house.” It was supposed to be Jag, Steel and one or two others at most. Apparently a terrorist threat in Manhattan wasn’t reason enough to miss a good bachelor party.
How the hell was I supposed to get Steel away from them?
Thinktank glanced my way, and I blanked my thoughts. His dark gaze penetrated, fluttering against my mind. I’m just a floozy. Drunk and hooking up with a superhero. Nothing special.
Either I didn’t register, or Thinktank was tired of all the debauchery. He closed his eyes and sank back into his own head.
He’d be a problem later. I had a bigger one to deal with first.
Steel scooped me up and pinned me to a sofa. He sucked at my neck, suffocating me in a cloud of Axe and Cuervo. My heart pounded, and I had to remind myself that I was in control.
Kind of.
His kiss took me full on the mouth. My power stirred, but I could hold it back when I wanted a real lip-lock. Too bad Steel wasn’t on my make-out list.
“Steel…” I wiggled away. “Can we go in the back? I want to be alone.” I couldn’t use my powers in front of the Ten. As soon as I struck, they’d all be after my head. I couldn’t take that risk.
Steel chuckled. “Let’s play here, baby.” His hand slipped up my shirt.
I snagged his wrist before his fingers found my bra strap. Exhibitionism wasn’t really my thing, especially with a super-powered audience.
My stomach twisted. I was going to have to be more persuasive.
Even though he was drunk and ten times stronger than me, he let me shift positions. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and nibbled his earlobe. Steel moaned softly.
“Don’t you want me to yourself?” I whispered. “We’d have more fun without your friends watching.”
“Whatever you want, sugar.” Steel lifted me like nothing, though he copped a feel or two as he moved us to one of the private rooms. I kissed his neck to avoid Thinktank’s glare.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he elbowed the door shut. This room wasn’t messing around. Instead of token couches, a king-sized bed took up the floor space. There was a mini-bar, a nightstand whose contents I didn’t want to know and some intense mood lighting.
Disco ball and everything.
Before Steel could toss me again, I yanked his head back. “I like to be on top.”
He grinned and sat on the bed, lowering me so I straddled his hips. I pushed him down. Now I was in control. I reached under my skirt for the handcuffs on my thigh garter and let them dangle and clink in front of him. “Do you like it rough?”
“Kinky.” Steel didn’t fight as I attached him to the headboard.
“Robert Donavan, alias Steel.” The cuffs clicked. “I’m authorized to take you into custody under section three point eight of the Superhero Justice Act. You’re to be tried for the assault of one Miranda Hutchins.”
His eyes widened.
With his super-strength, he could’ve snapped the chain, but he didn’t have the time. I lowered my mouth.
As soon as our lips met, it was too late.
He gasped, but my power worked fast. I sucked in his breath, sifting through his life force until I sensed the gooey, glowing center of his being.
His powers. Once I could feel them, they were already mine.
Steel’s eyes rolled back, and he sagged against the bed. I left him cuffed and disentangled to straighten my dress and hair.
That was one obstacle down.
Now all I had to do was get a three hundred pound lump of unconsciou
s muscle past seven of his closest hero friends, out of the club and down to the station.
It was asking a lot, considering I was freelance help.
But who else could do it? If they got to keep their powers, supers tended not to sit around and wait for trial.
Hooray for justice.
With Steel’s strength coursing through me, giddiness outweighed my nerves. I could make this work. I had plenty of powers of my own. As long as I kept it stealth, I’d be fine.
Though my Iron Chef date was looking like a bust.
I hovered up to the ventilation panel in the ceiling and heaved it open. It was big enough that I could squeeze in, but Steel’s shoulders were twice as wide as mine. That was out. I could make us both invisible and walk out the door, but that wouldn’t fly with Thinktank outside. A little invisibility wouldn’t fool him.
Widening my eyes, I focused on the walls. My vision sank through the layers. Paint, drywall, frames, and wiring, and back out again. We shared one wall with the club, one with the VIP lounge and one with another private suite where Cyclone was now occupied with a couple of strippers.
I flinched away.
The fourth wall was more promising. It connected to an empty men’s bathroom, and I stretched my vision farther.
Two women were touching up their lip-gloss in the adjoining women’s bathroom, and past that the only other obstacle was a service hallway. Through there, I could get into an alley, go invisible and fly away. The ladies grabbed their purses. I grinned and cut the X-ray vision.
The handcuff key was tucked in my bra, but I wanted to test my new strength. It was always best to show a new power who was boss.
I gripped the metal headboard and pulled. Decorative iron snapped, and Steel slipped free.
I flipped him over my shoulders. He reeked of booze and sweat, but the smell was the only way I could tell he was there.
He weighed nothing. This whole super-strength thing was clutch, though I knew I’d regret it later. I even had a free hand to press through the wall.
