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

by Jennifer Estep

  He seemed almost insulted by my question. “Of course, I love my grandmother. I might be a rake and a thief, but I do have a heart.”

  “So you can imagine how worried your grandmother would be if you were, say, kidnapped. You’d want to call her and let her know you were all right, wouldn’t you?”

  Debonair sighed. “I can’t let you call your grandfather, Bella. Anything else you want, I’ll freely give to you, but not that.”

  “Why won’t you let me call him? All I want to do is let him know I’m okay.”

  “Because he’s got the whole city looking for you, superheroes included. If I let you call him, odds are he’ll trace it back to me. Call me a coward if you want, but I don’t want to face your grandfather. Or your brother, Johnny. They’re both very powerful men.” A sly smile flitted across his face. “They’d tear me limb from limb for kidnapping you, even if I did so with the best of intentions.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. Family and honor and traditions meant everything to my brother and grandfather. They’d do more than just tear Debonair limb from limb. They’d put him back together and repeat the process. Several times. Then, they’d both probably dress up as Johnny Angel and run him over with their motorcycles. I might want to go home, but I didn’t want to do it at that cost. I might despise heroes and villains, but I couldn’t deny the sexy thief had sort of grown on me. And he’d saved my life. That counted for a lot.

  “Well, have you figured out what Hangman wants with the Star Sapphire?”

  Debonair shook his head. “Not yet. He could want it just to want it, of course. But Hangman’s never been known to be overly greedy, just power hungry. I think someone else hired him to steal the sapphire. What that person plans to do with it, I have no idea. Maybe if I had more resources, I’d be able to discover the answer quicker. But I must confess that I’ve fallen on hard times recently.”

  My eyes flicked around the room, taking in all the rich furnishings, as well as the exquisite meal we’d just eaten. This didn’t look like hard times to me.

  “Well, I can’t stay here forever. I can’t put my grandfather through that. Surely, you can understand?”

  “I do. More than you know. But I can’t risk Hangman coming after you to get to me. He will, you know. He saw me teleport you away. He knows I have the sapphire. He’ll come to you and demand to know where I am, who I am. And when you can’t tell him, he’ll hurt you. Terribly.”

  “I can take care of myself. And I have friends who will help me. Powerful friends.” If I could put aside my dislike of the Fearless Five’s spandex costumes and alter egos long enough to let them help.

  “That won’t be enough. Not against Hangman.” Debonair stared into my eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Bella. You’re far too important to me.”

  I laughed. “You almost sound like you care about me. Me, a complete stranger!”

  “You’re not a complete stranger to me, Bella. You’re not a stranger at all.”

  Debonair looked like he wanted to bite his tongue the second the words came out. He dropped his eyes to his half-eaten chicken and fiddled with his fork. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought I saw a blush creeping up the side of his neck. Debonair? Blushing?

  His confession confused me as well.

  “Do I—do I know you? The real you?”

  He looked away, and I knew the answer.

  “Who are you?”

  For a moment, Debonair chewed on his lower lip. He looked lost, unsure, and nothing at all like the suave rake he was. Then, his eyes shuttered, and he came back to himself.

  “That’s not important,” he said in a smooth voice. “What is important is keeping you safe. That’s why you’re going to stay here until I can figure out what Hangman is up to.”

  He wasn’t going to let me go. Not anytime soon, at least. My thoughts turned to Grandfather. He’d be worried. He was probably sitting up now, just like I’d done so many nights when my father and brother were out prowling the streets as Johnny Angel. Grandfather would be staring at the phone, praying for it to ring. And afraid that when it did, it would be the police or the Fearless Five on the other end of the line with bad news.

  Frustrated, I threw down my napkin. My power flared, and the cloth landed on top of one of the candles. It immediately caught fire. The candle tipped over, and the flaming cloth hit my half-drunk glass of wine, spilling it. In an instant, hot, hungry flames engulfed the table.

  Not for long, though. Debonair snapped his fingers, and a fire extinguisher popped into his hands. He pulled the pin out of the device and squeezed down on the metal handle. White foam spewed over the table, smothering the red-orange flames, and the fire ended as quickly as it had begun.

  I just sat there, looking at the remains of the ruined table and watching smoke puff away from the mess.

  The battle, the kidnapping, the Lair of Seduction, not being able to contact Grandfather, Debonair, my jinx. It was too much. It was just too damn much.

  I got to my feet and stalked over to the waterbed. I tried to muffle it, but a small sob escaped my lips.

  “Bella…”

  “Please just go.” My voice cracked, and I closed my eyes to keep tears from spilling down my face. “Please.”

  Hands settled on my shoulders and gently turned me around. I opened my eyes and found myself looking at the scarlet rose and silver thorn that decorated Debonair’s blue-black leather costume. The thief tipped up my chin so he could see into my face.

  “Don’t cry,” Debonair whispered, wiping away a tear from my cheek. “Please. I can’t stand to see you cry. I’ll find a way to get a message to your grandfather. Somehow.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  For some reason, I believed him. Debonair wiped another tear off my face. He stared at me, and I at him. I realized how hot his hand felt on my cheek. Realized how close our bodies were. Realized how much I suddenly wanted him to stay.

  “Bella, do you know how beautiful you are?” he said.

  I forced myself to laugh, even though I trembled inside. “I bet you say that to all the women you bring here.”

  His eyes flared sapphire blue, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached out and rubbed a lock of my frizzy hair between his bare fingers.

  “Soft and smooth, just as I imagined it would be.” Debonair held the strand up to his nose. “It smells like roses. Sweet and delectable.”

  “You’re the one who smells like roses,” I corrected. “That’s just your shampoo I used earlier.”

  Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “You’re very practical, do you know that?”

  “And you’re very impractical, do you know that?” I countered.

  “That’s what makes me so adorable.” He smirked.

  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

  “You should do that more often.”

  “What?”

  “Laugh,” Debonair said. “I like the sound of it.”

  I just looked at him. His perfect body. His blue-black suit. His dark, curly hair.

  Debonair stared back, a hungry expression in his blue eyes.

  “Well, it’s been a long day,” I said, nervous. “I suppose this is good-night.”

  “Good night, Bella.” His voice was low and husky.

  “Thank you for dinner. And for agreeing to contact my grandfather. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

  On an impulse, I leaned up on my tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but Debonair turned his head, capturing my lips with his.

  Suave. Very, very suave.

  Debonair wound his hand in my hair and pulled me to him, so close that our bodies were flush against each other. His thickening erection pressed into my thigh, making me ache as he probed my mouth with his tongue. He smelled of sultry smoke and tasted sweet, like the orange sauce we’d just eaten.

  I ran my fingers up and down his broad chest, marveling at h
is smooth muscles, wishing I could touch his bare skin. He seemed pleased by my explorations, growling and cupping my ass in his hands.

  Debonair slid the leather jacket from my body, exposing my mostly bare shoulders. He pressed soft kisses to my eyelids and cheeks and nose. Then, his lips moved lower, scorching a path down my chest. His lips closed over my taut nipple, sucking at it through the thin fabric of the shirt. And I was suddenly, extremely, undeniably grateful that underwear hadn’t been part of the ensemble he’d given me earlier.

  I arched my back. My power pulsed and surged around me, static electricity gathering in my hair and on my fingertips. But it was nothing compared to the sensations snapping and popping and sparking through my body like firecrackers one after the other.

  Debonair was on his knees before me. “I’ve wanted you for so long now. Tell me you want me too, Bella. Tell me.”

  I traced his face with my fingers, ignoring the mask that obscured most of it, pretending it wasn’t really there. Instead, I focused on the curve of his chin. His tiny dimple. His straight nose. His thick, perfect lips.

  “I want you too,” I whispered, surprised by the truth of it.

  “You don’t want me to stop?”

  His voice was small and timid, as though he was afraid I was going to reject him. Me. Reject Debonair. The sexiest superhero in the city.

  Debonair might be a seductive rake, but I somehow knew he wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to. He was still a gentleman at heart, and his shy uncertainty touched me. So, I did something that I never, ever did.

  I gave in.

  “No, I don’t want you to stop.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, as if he’d just won the lottery. Debonair retraced his path up my body with his lips. He eased me back, and I sank onto the waterbed. Debonair joined me a moment later. I reached for him and pulled him on top of me, reveling in the feel of his body on mine. His warmth. His touch. His smoky scent.

  Part of my mind screamed at me to stop, to think, to be sensible.

  He was Debonair. A thief, a rake, a notorious playboy, a super-something-or-other.

  I was Bella Bulluci. The woman who liked nice guys and hated superheroes above all else.

  And yet, I still wanted him. Desperately. Totally. Impossibly.

  I didn’t want to be sensible tonight.

  Tonight, I wanted to be free.

  Free of my rules and worries and constant fears.

  Tonight, I wanted Debonair.

  We kissed and kissed, until I was dizzy from the feel of his tongue on mine. His hands moved up my chest, cupping my breasts through the thin shirt. I couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from my lips.

  “Do you like that?” he asked, staring into my eyes.

  I nodded.

  “So do I. But I think we’ll both like this a lot better.”

  He snapped his fingers, and my shirt disappeared.

  I gasped at the rush of cool air on my skin and pressed my hands over my exposed chest. “You can pop people’s clothes on and off at will?”

  He smiled. “Teleportation has its uses, Bella.”

  He drew my hands away from my breasts and pressed them against the bed. His eyes roamed over me, devouring me from head to toe. The hunger in his gaze startled me.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are, Bella? How much I want you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, let me show you.”

  Debonair dipped his head to my breast, sucking and scraping the nipple with his teeth. He lavished attention on first one, then the other, over and over again. I cried out from the pleasure of it all, writhing under him. The waterbed roiled and heaved with our movements.

  He licked his way up my throat. I grabbed his head and pulled his lips to mine for another heated kiss.

  “Take off your clothes,” I whispered against his warm, inviting mouth. “I want to touch you too.”

  Debonair snapped his fingers. His leather suit and boots vanished, along with the rest of my clothes. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at him. His chest was broad, with firm, defined muscles. More dark hair covered the expanse, trailing downward past his taut stomach. No wonder women threw themselves at him. He truly was perfect. My eyes went lower. In every single way.

  I scooted back into his arms, splaying my hand across his chest and planting kisses on his face and neck.

  “What are you up to?” Debonair asked, his breath catching in his throat.

  “You’ll see.”

  Without warning, I took him in my hand and stroked him, even as I darted my tongue in and out of his mouth. Usually during sex, I let the guy take charge, set the pace of things. Maybe it was the wine I’d had. Or his sweet, intoxicating scent. Or maybe I’d just snapped from all the stress. But for once in my life, I was being bold and daring and adventurous. And loving every second of it.

  “Bella…” Debonair murmured, closing his eyes. “Bella!”

  His release was sudden and swift. I watched the euphoria dance across his face, pleased that I was able to bring him so much pleasure. The last shudder left his body, and he turned to me and smiled.

  Then—

  POP!

  I found myself on my back with Debonair lying on top of me. And his fingers inside me.

  “That’s not fair!” I squealed.

  Debonair moved his fingers in and out of me in a slow motion. “Who said anything about being fair?”

  He took my nipple in his mouth even as his fingers continued their delicate work. My power flared as bright as a star as I writhed and thrashed with passion. I was hot, aching, desperate for him to stop, eager for him to go on.

  I felt him harden against my thigh again, and Debonair rose up above me, ready to take the final step.

  “Wait… Wait,” I panted. I wasn’t so far gone that I didn’t remember to be safe about this. Well, physically safe at least. “Protection…must…use protection. Do you have…any?”

  He snapped his fingers, and a foil packet appeared. “I do now.”

  Debonair covered himself with the condom. He eased my legs apart and sank into me.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked, stilling.

  I clutched at his back, wanting him to go farther. “No. You could never hurt me.”

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer, deeper into me. He moved slowly at first, sliding in and out with a steady rhythm.

  I wasn’t nearly so sweet and gentle. I raked my nails up and down his back. My mouth latched on to his, and I drove my tongue inside.

  “Bella, I can’t concentrate when you do that. I can’t hold back,” he whispered against my cheek.

  “I don’t want you to hold back,” I rasped. “I want you inside me, now. All of you.”

  So, he didn’t.

  Debonair thrust himself at me, and I welcomed him. I marveled at the thick length of him filling me. At his hot, hard body covering my own. At the pleasure building and building inside me. We rode up and down on the bed as the water crested below us.

  Then, with a final plunge, we both shuddered and were still.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I woke up some time later. I breathed in deeply, but no smell of smoked roses lingered in the air. I opened my eyes and sat up.

  I scanned the room, peering in every corner and even the bathroom. But he wasn’t here. The ruined table was gone, and the place looked like it had been tidied up. But Debonair was nowhere to be found. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or disappointed.

  Without the sexy thief here to distract me, all my fears and doubts and worries roared back to the surface. My sensible nature took over, the way it always did. I flopped back down on the waterbed and put my hands over my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. I’d broken my own number-one rule—never, ever get involved with superheroes and ubervillains.

  And yet, I’d slept with one.

  And thoroughly enjoyed it.

  Wha
t was wrong with me?

  I didn’t want any part of superheroes and ubervillains and epic battles. It was all so silly. Spandex, leather, masks, secret identities. Didn’t people have better things to do with their time than play dress-up?

  Or sleep with people who did?

  But the irony was that when I was a kid, I’d longed to be a superhero. I’d dreamed of taking over the family mantle of Johnny Angel, going out into the city and righting wrongs. But the years of waiting up and wondering if my father was going to come home had taken their toll. Now, all I saw was the absurdity of the whole thing.

  My family had gone through too much already. I’d gone through too much already. I wasn’t going to sit at home waiting for the phone to ring or some other superhero to knock on the door and tell me that I needed to come down to the city morgue. I wouldn’t put myself through that. Not for Debonair. Not for anyone.

  I shook my head. Why was I even thinking about having a relationship with Debonair? Sure, we’d slept together, but it wasn’t like the handsome thief cared about me. He couldn’t possibly. I was just another woman he’d brought here and seduced with his charm and sharp wit and dark good looks. Dinner, wine, roses, sweet words. It was probably the same tired routine he used every single time.

  And I’d fallen for it.

  I wallowed in my shame and self-pity for the better part of two minutes. Mentally berated and beat myself up for being such an eager, willing, lonely fool. Then, I thought about things a little more calmly, a little more rationally. At least the sex had been good.

  And then some.

  But that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to be here when Debonair came back. I couldn’t face him. I’d fallen under his spell once—I wasn’t going to be so stupid a second time.

  Today, I was escaping—one way or another.

  * * *

  Luckily, Debonair had just teleported my clothes over to one of the chairs, instead of leaving me with nothing but a silk sheet to wear. I put on my borrowed clothes, wincing a bit as I stuffed my stiff, sore body into the fabric. Funny, but I wasn’t hurting from the attack at the museum. It was my other, ah, activities that had left certain parts of me rather sensitive.