by Angel Payne
Tonight was his time to pay up.
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Continue reading Cuffed…
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Misadventures with a Super Hero
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Prologue
Reece
She’s got the body of a goddess, the eyes of a temptress, and the lips of a she-devil.
And tonight, she’s all mine. In every way I can possibly fantasize.
And fuck, do I have a lot of fantasies.
Riveted by her seductive glance, I follow her into the waiting limo. A couple of friends from the party we’ve just left—their names already as blurry as the lights of Barcelona’s Plaça Reial—swing hearty waves of departure, as if Angelique La Salle is taking me away on a six-month cruise to paradise.
Ohhh, yeah.
I’ve never been on a cruise. As an heir to a massive hotel dynasty, I’ve never wanted for the utmost in luxurious destinations, but I’ve never been on a cruise. I think I’d like it. Nothing to think about but the horizon…and booze. Freedom from reporters, like the mob that were flashing their cameras in my face back at the club.
What’ll the headlines be, I wonder.
Undoubtedly, they’ve already got a few combinations composed—a mix of the buzz words already trending about me this week.
Party Boy. Player. The Heir with the Hair. The Billionaire with the Bulge.
Well. Mustn’t disappoint them about the bulge.
And I sure as fuck don’t plan to.
If my brain just happens to enjoy this as much as my body…I sure as hell won’t complain.
Maybe she’ll be the one.
Maybe she’ll be…more.
The one who’ll change things…at last.
As the driver merges the car into Saturday night traffic, Angelique moves her lush green gaze over everything south of my neck. Within five seconds my body responds. The fantasies in my brain are overcome by the depraved tempest of my body. My chest still burns from the five girls on the dance floor who group-hickied me. My shoulders are on fire from the sixth girl who clawed me like a madwoman while watching from behind. My dick pulses from a hard-on that won’t stop because of the seventh girl—and the line of coke she snorted off it.
Angelique gazes at that part with lingering appreciation.
“C’est magnifique.” Her voice is husky as she closes in, sliding a hand into the open neckline of my shirt. Where’s my tie? I was wearing one tonight—at some point. The Prada silk is long gone, much like my self-control. Beneath her roaming fingers, my skin shivers and then heats.
Well…shit.
Even if she’s not going to be the one, she is at least someone. A body to warm the night. A presence, of any kind, to fill the depths. The emptiness I stopped thinking about a long damn time ago.
“You’re magnificent too,” I murmur, struggling to maintain control as she swings a Gumby-loose limb over my lap and straddles me. What little there is of her green cocktail dress rides up her thighs. She’s wearing nothing underneath, of course—a fact that should have my cock much happier than it is. Troubling…but not disturbing. I’m hard, just not throbbing. Not needing. I’m not sure what I need anymore, only that I seem to spend a lot of time searching for it.
“So flawless,” she croons, freeing the buttons of my shirt down to my waist. “Oui. These shoulders, so broad. This stomach, so etched. You are perfect, mon chéri. So perfect for this.”
“For what?”
“You shall see. Very soon.”
“I don’t even get a hint?” I spread a smile into the valley between her breasts.
“That would take the fun out of the surprise, n’est-ce pas?”
I growl but don’t push the point, mostly because she makes the wait well worth it. During the drive, she taunts and tugs, strokes and licks, teases and entices, everywhere and anywhere, until I’m damn near tempted to order the driver to pull over so I can pull out a condom and screw this temptress right here and now.
But where the hell is here?
Almost to the second I think the question, the limo pulls into an industrial park of some sort. A secure one, judging by the high walls and the rolling door that allows us to roll directly into the building.
Inside, at least in the carport, all is silent. The air smells like cleaning chemicals and leather…and danger. Nothing like a hint of mystery to make a sex club experience all the sweeter.
“A little trip down memory lane, hmmm?” I nibble the bottom curve of Angelique’s chin. It’s been three weeks since we’d met in a more intimate version of this type of place, back in Paris. I’d been hard-up. She’d been alluring. End of story. Or beginning, depending on how one looks at it. “How nostalgic of you, darling.”
As she climbs from the limo, she leaves her dress behind in a puddle on the ground. It wasn’t doing much good where I bunched it around her waist anyway. “Come, my perfect Adonis.”
Perfect. I don’t hear that word often, at least not referring to me. Too often, I’m labeled with one of those media favorites, or if I’m lucky, one of the specialties cooked up by Dad or Chase in their weekly phone messages. Dad’s a little more lenient, going for shit like “hey, stranger” or “my gypsy kid.” Chase doesn’t pull so many punches. Lately, his favorite has been “Captain Fuck-Up.”
“Bet you’d like to be Captain Fuck-Up right about now, asshole,” I mutter as two gorgeous women move toward me, summoned by a flick of Angelique’s fingers. Their white lab coats barely hide their generous curves, and I find myself taking peeks at their sheer white hose, certain the things must be held up by garters. Despite the kinky getups, neither of them crack so much as a smile while they work in tandem to strip me.
I’m so caught up in what the fembots are doing, I’ve missed Angelique putting on a new outfit. Instead of the gold stilettos she’d rocked at the club, she’s now in sturdier heels and a lab coat. Her blonde waves are pulled up and pinned back.
“Well, well, well. Doctor La Salle, I presume?” Eyeing her new attire with a wicked smirk, I ignore the sudden twist in my gut as she sweeps a stare over me. Her expression is stripped of lust. She’s damn near clinical.
“Oh, I am not a doctor, chéri.”
I arch my brows and put both hands on my hips, strategically guiding her sights back to my jutting dick. I may not know how the woman likes her morning eggs yet, but I do know she’s a sucker for an arrogant bastard—especially when he’s naked, erect, and not afraid to do something about it.
“Well, that’s okay, chérie.” I swagger forward. “I can pretend if you can.”
Angelique draws in a long breath and straightens. Funny, but she’s never looked hotter to me. Even now, when she really does look like a doctor about to lay me out with shitty test results. “No more pretending, mon ami.”
“No more—” My stomach twists again. I glance backward. The two assistants aren’t there anymore, unless they’ve magically transformed into two of the burliest hulks I’ve ever seen not working a nightclub VIP section.
But these wonder twins clearly aren’t here to protect me.
In tandem, they pull me back and flatten me onto a rolling gurney.
And buckle me down. Tight.
Really tight.
“What. The. Fuck?”
“Sssshhh.” She’s leaning over my face—the wonder fuckers have bolted my head in too—brushing tapered fingers across my knitted forehead. “This will be easier if you don’t resist, mon trésor.”
“This? This…what?”
Her eyes blaze intensely before glazing over—with insanity. “History, Reece! We are making history, and you are now part of it. One of the most integral parts!”
“You’re—you’re batshit. You’re not forging history, you bitch. You’re committing a crime. This is kidnapping!”
Her smile is full of eerie serenity. “Not if nobody knows about it.”
“People are going to know if I disappear, Angelique.”
>
“Who says you are going to disappear?”
For some reason, I have no comeback for that. No. I do know the reason. Whatever she’s doing here might be insanity—but it’s well-planned insanity.
Which means…
I’m screwed.
The angel I trusted to take me to heaven has instead handed me a pass to hell.
Making this, undoubtedly, the hugest mess my cock has ever gotten me into.
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Continue reading Misadventures with a Super Hero…
Also by Angel Payne
Honor Bound Series:
Saved
Cuffed
Seduced
Wild (Coming January 2018)
Wet (Coming February 2018)
Hot (Coming February 2018)
Masked (Coming February 2018)
Mastered (Coming March 2018)
Conquered (Coming March 2018)
Ruled (Coming June 2018)
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Misadventures:
Misadventures with a Super Hero
Misadventures of a Time Traveler (Coming March 13, 2018)
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For a full list of Angel’s other titles,
visit her at
angelpayne.com
Acknowledgments
What a journey!
I’m not going to be able to thank everyone here, but I’m sure as hell going to try.
First and absolutely foremost, a note of gratitude, from the very bottom of my heart and soul, to the brave men and women who step forward to honor their country in military service. Though my books are fiction, my admiration for your bravery is real, and I do my best to research all the “little details” for accuracy, while delivering a high-level fictional experience for everyone. It is always, always, my ultimate goal to honor all of you, the world’s most amazing and incredible heroes and heroines.
I cannot begin to express my love for the friends, readers, and bloggers who have supported this series since the start: Victoria Blue, Kimberley Helmers, Tracy Roelle, Shannon Hunt and Once Upon an Alpha, Shayna Snyder with Shayna’s Spicy Reads, Amy Rudolph, Jacy Mackin, Riane Holt, Carey Sabala, Cynthia Gonzales…and I know I’ve forgotten some names, but please know that each and every one of you were a hand to hold when the times got rough, and my own battalion of an amazing support boat! I love you!
To my writing sprint sisters: All da wordz! I couldn’t have done them all without you! Shayla Black, Carrie Ann Ryan, Kennedy Layne, Stacey Kennedy, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue, Meredith Wild, and Mia Michelle—you are my ROCKS. Thank you for the massive kicks in the ass when I needed them the most.
So many thanks to the Waterhouse Press Family, for seeing the bigger picture about the Honor Bound Boys, and believing enough in these books to take them to the next level. Meredith, Jon, David, Robyn, Kurt, Jesse, Scott, Jeanne—I am humbled, floored, moved, and motivated every day by your drive and passion.
About Angel Payne
USA Today bestselling romance author Angel Payne loves to focus on high-heat romance starring memorable alpha men and the women who love them. She has numerous book series to her credit, including the Suited for Sin series, the Cimarron Saga, the Temptation Court series, the Secrets of Stone series, the Lords of Sin historicals, and the popular Honor Bound series, as well as several standalone titles.
Angel is a native Southern Californian, leading to her love of being in the outdoors, where she often reads and writes. She still lives in Southern California with her soul-mate husband and beautiful daughter, to whom she is a proud cosplay/culture con mom. Her passions also include whisky tasting, shoe shopping, and travel.
For more information, please follow Angel Payne at:
www.angelpayne.com
