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Angela Knight - Hero Sandwich

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by Hero Sandwich (lit)




  HERO SANDWICH

  Angela Knight

  Meg Jennings stepped out onto the roof of her apartment building, her boots scraping on the concrete. Below, horns honked and an eighteen-wheeler growled in acceleration as a fire truck wailed its way down the street.

  Restless, she strode to the roof’s edge. All around her, the lights of Manhattan glittered in the darkness as if the stars had showered down to earth. Meg stared downward, brooding.

  She’d had no choice except to break it off with Richard tonight. Much as she loved him, she couldn’t keep tolerating his secrecy, his habit of disappearing, his evasiveness. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d actually ended a date without him being called off by some mysterious phone call. Any explanation he’d bothered to give afterward always had the ring of a lie.

  Meg had lived a double life long enough to recognize the signs in somebody else. She knew what she was doing in hers. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what Richard was doing with his.

  Maybe he was a hero, risking his life in the pursuit of justice. But there was something about Richard, something just a little bit dark, a little bit ruthless. That sounded more like villain than hero to Meg -- and she wasn’t willing to go down that particular road again. She didn’t like where it led.

  Even so, the expression on his handsome face when she’d told him it was over had stabbed into her soul. Pain and vulnerability were not emotions she associated with Richard Drake, billionaire captain of industry.

  She’d found herself explaining. “I just can’t live with the lies anymore, Richard.”

  A cool gleam of determination replaced the pain in those wolf-pale eyes. “We all have our secrets, Meg. And we all tell lies.” Then he’d walked out.

  Now she glowered at the city below. We all have our secrets. What the hell did that mean?

  With a huff, Meg stepped off the edge of the roof and into empty air. For an instant, she fell like a rock. Then the generators in her suit started pumping out lev-fields, and she rose slowly skyward like a soap bubble on the breeze.

  Absently, she watched the traffic stream below her boots in a river of headlights. Was this what Richard meant? Did he know what she was? And would he tell anyone in that other life she suspected he led?

  If he did, he might as well paint a target on her chest and declare open season. Too many pissed-off villains -- and even a few heroes -- had sworn to take revenge on Paparazzi for the photos she’d taken. If any of them ever found out who she was, she wouldn’t have a prayer.

  It was hard to believe Richard would deliberately endanger her that way. But then, she didn’t really know him, did she? That was the whole problem.

  Frowning, Meg stretched her body out in the air, letting the lev-fields cradle her in invisible lines of force. With one hand, she checked the bag attached to her equipment belt. Her camera gear was safely stowed, ready for the night’s adventures. Taking a deep breath, she slowly flexed her toes, triggering the acceleration controls in her boots. Instantly, she shot forward, propelled by the levitation fields rippling around her.

  It was ironic, really. If her father hadn’t been such an adrenaline junkie, he could have been pulling in billions in patent proceeds. The American military would have paid a great deal for a suit that could both levitate its wearer and turn him invisible.

  Unfortunately, exploiting his inventions had always held less appeal for Gerald Jennings than committing crimes as the supervillain Bankbuster. He and his partner Nightwolf had terrorized New York together, in between battles with superheroes like Cougar and Lynx. Which was why Gerald was doing fifty in Attica now instead of living the high life in Acapulco.

  Meg was lucky she hadn’t gone down with him. When she’d turned fifteen, Nightwolf had lost a fight with Cougar and gone to jail. Her father hated working alone, so he gave her a lev-suit and forced her to become his sidekick, Sneak Thief. For the next two years, she’d lived in a constant state of terror as they used their suits in nighttime bank robberies.

  Finally Meg could take no more. She told her father she’d robbed her last bank. Enraged, Gerald beat her so badly, he had to take her to the hospital before he robbed the bank he’d targeted. Cougar and Lynx caught him that very night.

  Bankbuster’s conviction freed Meg from her life of crime, but it also left her with a very big problem. Her mother was dead, and the money Gerald had left in an offshore bank wouldn’t last long. Though she was old enough to go out on her own by then, she had no way to support herself except minimum-wage jobs.

  Meg briefly considered selling her own suit to the Army, but she didn’t know how it worked. Besides, admitting she had Sneak Thief’s costume wasn’t exactly a good move, given the charges hanging over her head. She had to find another way to make a living.

  Meg had been at a loss until the night she decided to take a camera along on one of her flights through the city. She’d always loved shooting the New York skyline from the air, but her subject that night proved a lot more exciting.

  She was just about to snap a shot of the Empire State Building when a flash of fire in the night sky caught her attention. When she flew over to investigate, it turned out to be Megaman locked in battle with the Crimson Scorpion. Invisible, Meg zipped around them, snapping pictures of their combat.

  As soon as the fight was over, she made a beeline for one of the city’s newspapers. The night editor bought the photos on the spot, despite his doubts about the masked woman who’d taken them.

  And so Paparazzi was born.

  The question was, did Richard know her other identity -- and would he tell anybody?

  Cougar had chosen his vantage point carefully, right on the edge of the rooftop. He figured he’d be silhouetted against the streetlights below.

  Easy for anybody flying overhead to spot.

  “Think she’ll show?” Lynx asked. The communications unit in Cougar’s mask was so good, it sounded as if his brother was whispering right in his ear.

  “Tonight?” Cougar shrugged. “Who knows? Eventually? Yeah, eventually.”

  Lynx grunted. “Hope she doesn’t take too long. We’ve got more important things to do.”

  “Patience, Grasshopper. She’s had this coming for a while. And I mean to make sure she gets it.”

  There was no sound for a moment except the roar of traffic from below. A jet screamed by overhead. Finally, Lynx asked, “Isn’t that a little extreme? I mean, it’s not like she’s Nightwolf. She’s just a photographer.”

  “What, you enjoy being a joke on Leno?” The photo in the New York Daily Journal had been taken immediately after last night’s brawl with Battle Ax. Unfortunately, the brotherly arm Cougar had thrown around Lynx’s shoulders had looked like something entirely different to people who’d been speculating about their sexual preferences for years. Everybody from Jon Stewart to Conan O’Brien had riffed on it.

  In the shadows of the building’s rooftop elevator, Lynx shifted his weight, boots scraping on the cement roof. Cougar’s animal-acute hearing picked up the sound clearly. “People have been making those jokes since we started out. Like you always say, that’s what happens when you run around in leather. Paparazzi was only doing her job.”

  “That’s not what you said when Jay said we make a cute couple.”

  “I was ticked. Look, Cougar, pissing us off isn’t against the law, so we can’t take her to jail. What the hell are we going to do with her once we do catch her?”

  Cougar smiled slowly. “I’ll think of something.”

  Years of experience had taught Meg the perfect flying height if she wanted to spot supers in action. Even so, sometimes she circled the city for hours without seeing anything wor
th shooting. It was the luck of the ...

  What was that?

  She braked into a hover, attention caught by a human shape standing on a rooftop, silhouetted against the lights. The guy was so broad-shouldered, he just had to be superpowered. Meg shot down for an invisible fly-by.

  He stood with one leg bent, bracing a boot against the low rooftop wall. Soft brown leather armor emphasized his narrow waist and the contrasting width of powerful shoulders. A leather helmet in the shape of a cat’s head covered his face. The cat’s roaring jaws framed his lower face and the grim line of his mouth. She’d always found that mouth perversely sexy.

  Cougar.

  Meg’s heart began to pound as her instinct to run like hell battled her need for a closer look. New York’s premier hero had fascinated her since she was a scared fifteen-year-old watching him battle her father. Every time Gerald had reeled under one of those powerful punches, guilt, terror, and hope had warred in her soul. Secretly, she’d dreamed Cougar would rescue her.

  And in the end, he’d done just that.

  Meg was twenty-three now, and Cougar still starred in her fantasies, though her dreams had taken a distinctly adult turn these days. He was just so ... male, so dominant, so hard-edged and grimly handsome. You just knew he’d be the type to go for handcuffs and kinky sex.

  She’d even told Richard about those fantasies one night after three glasses of really good champagne. Richard being Richard, he’d offered to rent a costume, but she hadn’t been quite that drunk.

  Now there he stood in the flesh. Cougar. All by himself. Not fighting anybody. She could actually get close and just look at him, instead of snapping a shot and fleeing for her life.

  Meg drifted down to hover ten feet away. Taking her time, she floated closer, slowly enough to avoid creating a rush of air that would betray her to Cougar’s hyperhuman senses. He didn’t seem aware of her presence. He just stared down at the street below as though watching something, still as a hunting cat.

  Damn, he was big. Had to be six-four at least. Meg was willing to bet his armor wasn’t padded, either. It exposed his arms from shoulders down to the beginning of his clawed gauntlets, and those biceps were mouth-watering. Eyeing the elegant curve of hard, tanned skin, Meg imagined what he’d look like naked, all that glorious brawn on display. His body must be as delicious as Richard’s.

  Except Cougar was a good guy. She wasn’t so sure about Richard.

  She was right in front of him. He could smell her. The hint of jasmine in her floral shampoo blended with the rich, complex scent of woman.

  Aroused woman.

  But good as his feline senses were, Cougar couldn’t see her. She was completely invisible.

  Wait for it, he told himself. Let her get closer. He had only one shot at this. If he blew it, she’d make damn sure he never got close again. And he wanted to get very, very close. It was a good thing he wore armor over his groin, or she’d have seen his hungry erection.

  Cougar spared a thought for Lynx, ready to pounce from the shadows. They hadn’t dreamed she’d be brazen enough to approach him head-on. He doubted his brother was even aware she was here. The serum they’d taken as teenagers had given Lynx speed and agility instead of acute senses and superstrength.

  Cougar breathed in slowly. The light breeze brought more of that wonderful female scent, as though she was coming closer, flying right up to the edge of the roof he stood on.

  Wait for it.

  Meg wondered what color his eyes were behind his mask’s opaque eye slits. The only thing she could really see of him was the lower half of his face.

  She’d always thought Cougar had a grim, hard mouth, but now she realized his upper lip had a deliciously sensual curve, while the lower pouted ever so slightly. God, she wanted to kiss him.

  Why not?

  Why not just zip in, steal a kiss, and zoom off before he could grab her? He’d never know who it was. Hell, he might not even be sure what happened.

  Her heart thudded an eager adrenalin beat. It was so risky. If he got those big hands on her ...

  She’d love it.

  No, Meg, you would not, she told herself sternly. You’d go to jail.

  Well, probably not. It wasn’t against the law to steal a kiss, and he didn’t know she’d been Sneak Thief. Where was the harm? Besides, Cougar might be big and strong, but speed was Lynx’s talent. She was pretty sure she could fly off before he could catch her.

  Meg floated closer. One inch. Two. Sloooowly. Holding her breath. She could smell him now, leather and man. His armor was exquisitely made in contrasting shades of warm brown, trimmed in metallic gold. It looked faintly Roman and extremely butch, unlike the spandex many heroes wore. She’d seen it stop bullets, so it had to be made of something more than just leather.

  Her gaze focused on his seductive mouth. She licked her lips. Her heartbeat thundered. She was close enough now to reach out and kiss him. Tensing, ready to fly, Meg leaned forward the few inches she’d need to make contact with those velvet lips ...

  Powerful arms snapped around her like the jaws of a trap springing shut. She slammed against Cougar’s chest so hard, the breath left her in a stunned whoof.

  As Meg gasped, a white grin spread across the mouth she’d wanted so badly to taste. “You’ve been a bad, bad girl, Paparazzi.”

  She went nuts in his arms, shrieking and bucking against him. Cougar held on, though his eyes insisted he had an armful of nothing.

  “Jesus, you got her?” Lynx leaped from his hiding place and ran to help.

  “She ...” Cougar almost lost his grip when invisible teeth fastened on his lower lip. He squeezed once, just hard enough to make her let go. Glaring at what his eyes insisted was empty air, he snarled, “Don’t do that again!”

  “Fuck you!” she screamed in his face. “Let me go! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far --” He bared his teeth. “-- Sneaky.” At the nickname, she froze against him. “Oh, yeah, I know who you are. It’s been six years, but I still recognize that scent.”

  “Whose scent?” Lynx stared at him and his invisible prisoner as if trying to decide how to help restrain her.

  “Sneak Thief’s.” Cougar backed away from the roof edge and turned to face his partner, holding his captive tight as she started squirming again. “Grab her shoulders. We need to get her out of this suit so we can see what the hell we’re doing.”

  “Wait, Paparazzi is Sneak Thief?” Lynx grimaced, belatedly putting two and two together as he groped for the girl. “Flies, invisible -- oh, hell, you’re right. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’ll explain later.” She was beginning to panic -- he could smell it in her scent. He bared his teeth at her in his most savage expression. “Give it up, Sneaky. Even if you get away, I’ll just hunt you down. And by the time I find you, I’ll be pissed off.”

  She went warily still, obviously intimidated. Being a good guy had never stopped him from cultivating a nasty reputation. “OK, try it now,” he told Lynx.

  His brother slid an arm down, worked it between him and his prisoner, and coiled tight around what seemed to be her waist. The other hand found a grip around what was probably her shoulders, judging from the position. “Got her.”

  Cougar grinned wickedly. “Good. Let’s get her out of this suit.” Slowly, taking his time, he started searching for the zipper.

  Panic beat at her like huge, battering wings until Meg wanted to throw up. She was going to jail. Never mind that she’d been a kid afraid of her father, they were going to charge her as an accessory to his crimes. Fifty years in prison ... Christ! There had to be a way out of this. She ...

  A big, male hand brushed over her nipple, then returned to stroke.

  Startled, she looked up into Cougar’s face to see a wicked smile spreading under his mask. The caressing hand closed around her, brazenly cupping her breast. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Looking for the zipper,” he purred.

&nbs
p; Unzipping the costume would break the invisibility field. “It’s down the front.” Hell, he’d find it eventually.

  He slowly trailed a hand down her torso, then brazenly slid two fingers between her legs, along the crotch seam of her costume. “Here?”

  “Try the neck, asshole.” She couldn’t believe he was actually feeling her up. Despite her more lurid fantasies, the Defender of New York didn’t grope prisoners.

  “Cougar, what are you doing?” Lynx said in her ear, his tone uneasy. She could feel every inch of his muscular body pressed against her back. He was a hell of a lot bigger than he’d been the last time they’d fought as teenage sidekicks.

  Smoothly, Cougar slid a hand from her crotch to her belly, found the line of her zipper, and followed it to the high collar of the suit. His leather gauntlet brushed her chin as he caught the metal tag and began to pull downward. The hiss of the zipper was loud, even over the blare of the traffic. Luckily, it was dark up here; she’d hate all of New York to get a good look of Paparazzi being ceremoniously stripped of her costume.

  As the zipper parted, the invisibility field around her body collapsed, and she popped into view. “Well, hello there,” Cougar said, his deep voice rumbling in a distinct purr.

  Meg swallowed, staring up at him in hypnotized fascination. Her mask still hid her face, but she figured they’d get around to taking that off, too. “Look, um ... I’m not wearing anything under the suit ...”

  His grin broadened as his gaze dropped to her breasts. “I noticed. You haven’t been anybody’s kid sidekick in a long time, have you?” That gloved hand continued tugging the zipper downward all the way to the edge of her pubic hair.

  Meg froze, distinctly aware of Lynx’s hard body at her back even as Cougar crowded against her from the front. She had the humiliating suspicion she was getting wet.

  “Cougar, cut it out,” Lynx snapped, outrage sizzling in his voice.

  “Just satisfying my curiosity.” He pulled back the edges of her costume, exposing the tight pink crowns of her nipples. “Very pretty.”

 

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