The Bigtime Series (Bigtime superhero series, e-bundle)

by Jennifer Estep

  “Oh no,” I said in wicked voice. “It’s my turn to play.”

  So I did. Teasing. Tasting. Tempting. Tormenting him just the way he had done to me. I ran my tongue down his chest, following the trail of dark hair that led south. Sam smelled of musk and tasted of salty sweat. The combination was more intoxicating than any drug I’d ever had. I closed my hand around him, stroking his hard, swollen shaft.

  “Carmen!” His fingers twisted the silken sheets beneath us.

  “What?” I asked in a taunting tone. “Am I doing something wrong? Maybe you’d like it better if I did something like this.” I ran my tongue up and down him.

  He moaned in response. I continued my ministrations. I loved the feel of him, the smell, the taste. He filled up my senses until there was nothing else.

  “That’s enough of that,” he finally growled.

  Sam reached over, yanked open the nightstand drawer, and drew out a condom. Superspeed must have been another one of his powers, because he had it on before I could blink.

  Sam grabbed my hands. He pulled me on top of him, flipped me over, and slid inside me all in one smooth motion. I gasped at the full length of him filling me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and Sam began to move over me. I met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, moan for moan.

  We moved faster, harder together. The bed rocked back and forth in time. We called out each other’s names and rode that final wave of passion to its ultimate destination.

  Afterward, we lay there in silence, nestled in each other’s arms.

  “Wow,” I said when I got my breath back. “That was certainly something.”

  “Yes, it was.” Sam leaned up on his elbow. His silver eyes glowed in the semidarkness. “I don’t know what it is about you, Carmen, but I just can’t seem to control myself whenever you’re around.”

  I laughed. “Ditto.”

  I turned over to stare at him and felt him harden against my thigh. I arched an eyebrow. “No way. You can’t be ready to do that again.”

  Sam grinned. His fingers trailed down my body and slid inside me, making slow and steady circles. “Don’t you know endurance is one of my superpowers?”

  I shook my head, unable to breathe, unable to concentrate on anything else except the heat roaring through my body.

  So Sam showed me exactly what he meant.

  Five more fabulous times.

  * * *

  The next morning, I rolled over and bumped into something warm and hard. My eyes popped open. Sam snuggled next to me, his face calm and smooth in sleep.

  For a moment, I just looked at him. His face, his chest, his glorious body. My inner voice sang with happiness. Somehow, in the course of the past few weeks, Sam Sloane had come to mean a great deal to me. Somehow, he’d become my friend and my lover.

  And what a lover he was. The sex had been fantastic. Everything I’d ever dreamed of and then some. But there was more to it than that. I cared about Sam. A lot. More than I wanted to admit to myself. More than was wise, given my track record with men, especially superheroes.

  I was falling in love with him.

  And I didn’t know what to do about it.

  I thought about the puzzle, trying to make the pieces fit together in some sort of order. But the edges were too rough, too raw, too new. I couldn’t make sense of my feelings.

  Because I didn’t know the answer to my silent questions, I rolled over and eyed the clock on the nightstand. After ten. I groaned. I hadn’t meant to sleep so late. Then again, I hadn’t planned on staying up most of the night making love to a superhero either. Funny how things never turned out the way you expected. That was karma for you. I just wondered how I was going to end up paying for my glorious night with Sam. What cruel thing fate would throw my way.

  I shoved that thought aside and focused on the present. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. Sam’s silver eyes opened. They brightened at the sight of me.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  “Hey there, yourself.” Sam pushed a lock of hair back over my shoulder. Heat flared to life inside me at his gentle touch.

  I kissed him lightly on the mouth and scooted back. I slipped out of his grasp and moved around the room, picking up and putting on my discarded clothes.

  “You know, you could stay here with me.” Sam patted the mattress. “There’s plenty of room.”

  I eyed the thin sheet that just barely covered his fantastic body. It took all of my willpower not to shuck my clothes and throw myself on top of him. “As much as I’d love to stay and let you show me some more of your superpowers, duty calls. You have to go to work, and I still have an ubervillain to track down.” Plus, I needed some space, some time to think about what had happened.

  I sat back down on the bed and pulled on my socks and shoes. Sam watched me run my fingers through my auburn hair in an effort to remove some of the tangles.

  “Carmen, about last night—”

  I put my fingers to his lips. “Don’t say anything. Last night was wonderful. One of the best nights of my life. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

  After a moment, he nodded. I kissed him once more, got to my feet, and opened the door.

  Fiona stood outside, her hand poised in midair as if to knock.

  I froze. Uh-oh.

  Sam came up behind me, a sheet wrapped around his lean waist. “Carmen, what’s the matter—”

  Fiona’s eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. Her hair flamed to life. “Are the two of you—are you—are you sleeping together?”

  I grimaced at the high-pitched screech. My karmic retribution had come around already to bite me on the ass. I should have known better.

  “How could you do this, Sam? Are you insane?”

  “Fiona—”

  “No.” Her hair sparked and hissed. “Don’t you dare try to explain this. She’s the one who exposed Tornado, who wanted to expose us all for no other reason than the fact that she wanted to. She killed him, Sam, just as surely as if she’d pushed him out that window. Or did you conveniently forget that when she was screwing your brains out?”

  Sam’s face paled. Guilt flashed in his eyes.

  “I hope she was worth betraying us, Sam.”

  Fiona stared at me so hard I thought my hair would catch fire. “You bloody bitch,” she snarled. “Wasn’t it enough for you to find out who we all really are? Wasn’t it enough for us to rescue you from Malefica? Wasn’t it enough for us to bring you here? When will you be satisfied? When you’ve completely destroyed us?”

  “Fiona—”

  “And do you know what the worst part is? I almost felt sorry for you the other day when you told me your sob story about your fiancé and best friend. What a fool I was. You expose Tornado, get us to rescue you and keep you safe, and now you’ve even seduced Sam. You’re nothing but a manipulator. You’ve done nothing but use us all from day one.”

  “It’s not like that—”

  Her balled fists burst into flames. “Don’t you ever speak to me again, Carmen Cole. Don’t even look at me. You’re lucky I don’t drop-kick your ass all the way back to Bigtime. We should have let Malefica and Frost have your miserable, worthless, rotten hide. Saving you is a mistake I’ll regret to my dying day.”

  Sam stepped forward and held out his hand. “Fiona, stop. That’s enough. Quit attacking Carmen. We’re both adults, and what happened between us was perfectly mutual—”

  “Shut up, Sam. It’s obvious what part of your body you’re thinking with at the moment. And it’s definitely not your brain. I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses.”

  Fiona stomped away. The carpet smoldered with every hot step she took. Smoke poured off her body and blackened the walls.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Sam said in a quiet voice. “She’s wrong, you know.”

  “No,” I whispered. “She’s right. She’s absolutely right. I did it. I exposed Travis because I was angry and hurt, and he killed himself because of it. Because of my need for revenge. Everyone k
nows it. You’re all just too kind to say it to my face.”

  Sam gripped my shoulders and made me face him. “Carmen, you’re not responsible for Travis’s death. If anybody is, I am. He was my best friend. I should have known how troubled he was. I should have sensed something, anything. I’m the one who’s to blame, not you.”

  Guilt and pain and grief darkened Sam’s silver eyes. The sight burned me more than Fiona’s hot words ever could. My heart cracked. I’d caused him so much pain. I’d caused them all so much pain.

  I was such a sad cliché. A woman scorned who had to take everyone else down with her. Sam, Striker, had asked me once why I did what I did, why I’d exposed all those superheroes and ubervillains.

  Spite. Jealousy. Anger. Revenge.

  Those were the real reasons. Not because superheroes lied or ubervillains stole or even because of my own warped view of karma. No, I’d wanted revenge on Matt and Karen, and I’d used everyone else as my scapegoats. A man was dead as a result of my haughty, selfish actions, and his friends were grieving his loss. I’d hurt the wrong people. I’d hurt Sam, the one person I would never, ever want to bring harm to.

  “Carmen, it’s not your fault. It never was,” Sam said.

  His words only increased my self-loathing. I’d made such a mess of everything. How could he stand to look at me? To touch me? I couldn’t bear my own self. Sam might not blame me for Travis’s death now, but one day he would. The newness would wear off our relationship, and he’d realize that he was so much better than me. That I didn’t deserve him. He’d find someone else. Someone more suitable. Another super rich superhero to share his life with. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t bear being tossed aside for someone else. Not again. Not from Sam.

  I closed my eyes to try to shut out the image of Sam. But I couldn’t. It was seared into my mind. My heart.

  “This was a mistake, Sam. A huge mistake.”

  “Carmen—”

  I backed up. “No, don’t touch me. I just—I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I turned and ran down the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I took the elevator upstairs and ran back to my room. But I couldn’t outrun the pain in Sam’s eyes. The pain I’d caused.

  Tears trickled down my flushed face. I sank onto the bed and buried my head in my hands. What had happened to my steely resolve, my complete determination to stay away from Sam Sloane? Some determination. With one kiss, it melted faster than a bag of chocolate in Fiona’s hot hands.

  A long sigh escaped my lips. I’d just slept with a man who had been mourning his best friend. And the dead man’s fiancée had caught us not quite in the act. Guilt rose up in me like a tidal wave. No good could come of this. My karma darkened, blackened with every second.

  But I was halfway in love with Sam aka Striker Sloane. I loved his dry wit, his sense of duty, his kindness toward others. And oh, the way he kissed me. I got all tingly inside just thinking about it.

  My guilt, my shame warred with my feelings for Sam. I couldn’t leave Sublime, not without risking another run-in with Malefica. Despite everything, I didn’t want to die or be turned into a monster. Deep down, I was a coward.

  I paced the length of my suite, trying to figure out some solution to my latest catastrophe, some way to right all the wrongs. I decided to avoid the others like the plague. Especially Sam. It was the only thing I could do. If Sam walked past me, I would stare at the floor until he passed. If he spoke to me, I would not reply. There would be no more longing glances. No more heated kisses. No more nights of hot, superhero sex.

  I would uncover Malefica’s real identity, give it to the Fearless Five, and get the heck outta Dodge. I didn’t belong here at Sublime among all the finery any more than a piece of coal belonged in a jewelry store. I didn’t belong underground with the superheroes. And I certainly didn’t belong with Sam Sloane. Damaged, hazardous goods. That’s what I was. A giant pool of radioactive waste that infected everyone who came into contact with me. I wanted, no, I needed to go back to my safe, boring life. The one where nobody touched me, where nobody had the power to hurt me, and where the damage I did was limited to the society pages of The Exposé.

  So, I would avoid Sam. I would. The safety of my heart—of everyone’s hearts—depended on it.

  * * *

  Another night passed. I held firm to my decision to avoid the superheroes. I came out of my suite only when they were busy with their day jobs or out chasing criminals. Whenever I did bump into the others, I averted my eyes, mumbled some excuse, and ran away. Fiona glared at me whenever our paths crossed, wanting to boil me with her hot gaze. Chief Newman and Henry didn’t say anything, but Fiona had told them about Sam and me. The knowledge glittered in their eyes.

  Avoiding everyone wasn’t my only problem. I still hadn’t been able to uncover Malefica’s identity. I was missing something, something obvious among my papers and flowcharts and notes. I could feel it. Too bad I had no idea what it was. Still, I worked feverishly, determined to leave Sublime before I brought another disaster down on Sam and the rest of the Fearless Five. Plus, my headaches had gotten even worse, to the point they were almost debilitating. My vision blurred at least once an hour, and I was popping aspirin like a crack addict constantly in need of a fix.

  After spending the morning fruitlessly searching through my papers, I went outside to the expansive gardens, hoping a little sunshine and fresh air would clear my mind and ease my throbbing head. Or at least cheer me up.

  The gardens were exquisite. Flowers of all shapes and sizes lined the dirt beds and filled the air with their fragrant scents. Roses, orchids, tulips, pansies, and more brightened the ground with a rainbow of colors. Hummingbirds darted in and out of the blossoms, along with bees and other nectar-seeking insects. More birds sang from the trees that towered over the gardens. It was a virtual paradise.

  I ambled along the crushed-shell paths, stooped over, and plucked a rose off a massive bush. I twirled the bright flower in my hand and plucked the petals off one by one. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me...

  “Enjoying the gardens?”

  I shrieked. Sam stood behind me. He looked oh-so-elegant in a dark blue suit and polished wingtips. My heart warmed, despite my best intentions.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t do that!”

  Sam shrugged. “Sorry. Sneaking up on people is a habit of mine.”

  “I thought you had a meeting.” My eyes darted around, looking for some means of escape. What excuse could I use to get away? Allergies? A bee sting? A sudden aversion to beautiful flowers?

  “It got canceled. I thought I’d come out and get some fresh air. The chief thought it would be good for me. He thinks I’ve been working too hard.”

  My inner voice whispered, and my eyes narrowed. “The chief? That’s the same thing he told me.” He’d shouted out the words this morning as I ran down the hall away from him.

  We stared at each other.

  “I guess he wanted us to run into each other,” I said.

  “I guess so.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, I was just going back to the house.”

  “Can I walk with you?”

  I couldn’t see a polite enough way to tell him no, so I gave in. “Sure.” The truth was I missed him terribly. I wanted to be close to him, even if it was only for a little while.

  We left the gardens and strolled across the massive lawn. The house stood like a sleeping giant about a half mile away. I kept three feet of space in between us. I wasn’t about to tempt fate—or myself—again.

  “So do you want to talk about it?” Sam asked.

  “About what?”

  “Our night together.”

  I stopped. My face flushed. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes, that.” Sam cleared his throat. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment swept over me. Evidently, he hadn’t felt the things I’d felt during our time together. Even no
w, my fingers itched to touch him, to pull him toward me and lose myself in his hot embrace.

  “I’m sorry because I was hurting, and I took advantage of you.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind. You can take advantage of me anytime.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow.

  “Er, what I mean is...um, if you feel the need...I mean, if you want to...” My voice trailed off under his intense scrutiny. “Never mind.”

  “Anyway, I wanted to apologize. I’ve been avoiding you because of that...and other things. I thought you should know why.”

  “I’ve been avoiding you too.” I sighed, suddenly tired of dancing around Sam Sloane. “Look, I like you, Sam. I really do. You’re a great guy. Intelligent, funny, charming, a good kisser, and more gorgeous than any man has a right to be. The other night was absolutely fantastic. One of the best nights of my life. Certainly the best sex of my life.”

  “But…”

  I took in a deep breath. “But it would never work out between us. We live in two completely different worlds. You’re a billionaire playboy. I’m a lowly society reporter. You’re a superhero. I expose superheroes for a living. And with Tornado’s suicide and Malefica lurking around, there’s just too much bad karma in the mix.” Every single thing I said was true, but the words still hurt. My inner voice whimpered.

  “And I’m pretty sure Fiona would fry me alive if she found out I was sticking around a second longer than necessary,” I said in an effort to lighten the mood. That was me. Plucky to the bitter, bitter end.

  A ghost of a smile crossed Sam’s face. “Fiona probably would fry me too.”

  We stood there on the lawn, still and silent. My eyes locked onto Sam’s handsome face, memorizing every curve, every line. Soon, memories would be all that I had left. A dull ache formed in my heart.

  I stuck out my hand before I did something stupid, like beg him to kiss me. “So, just friends then?”

  He stared at my outstretched hand for a long, long moment. “Just friends then.”

  Sam took my hand. All the feelings and sensations of the other night flashed through my head. Tangled sheets. Hot kisses. Slow caresses. I gritted my teeth to keep from pulling him toward me and picking up where we’d left off.