Banging the Superhero

by Rebecca Royce

"No, I don't think this is funny and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

  He watched her visibly swallow. Her neck muscles seemed to clench at his words.

  "How do I know you're not the one doing it?"

  Ace wanted to laugh. He supposed he should have expected that from her.

  "Three reasons."

  She rubbed her nose. "And they would be what?"

  "One, if I wanted to kill you using machines, you'd already be dead. I'm much more efficient than this."

  Alice snorted and he liked her slightly better for having done that. "Two, I don't even know you. I have no need of this kind of publicity."

  "Your sidekick said you're a fan."

  "A moderate fan." Okay, so there he lied but she didn't have to know. "I'm a guy.

  I like looking at your tits on television, and some of the food you make seems like it would be good. That's all."

  Alice gasped and pulled her robe even tighter around her. Good. She'd stopped shaking a bit and some color had returned to her face.

  "Besides, I have my own fans. I don't need to pick up yours."

  Her eyes shot daggers. "What's the third reason?"

  "I was raised by a single mother. She worked three jobs to support us. Only in the last year of her life was I able to take care of her or give her any of the things she deserved."

  She shook her head. "That's very touching, Mr. Hudson. As far as I can tell, however, it has nothing to do with my present situation."

  "She worked like a lunatic and she taught me how to behave. One of the main principals I picked up after a lifetime of guidance was how to treat women. I would never, ever, under any circumstances harm a lady. Despite your nasty tongue and general lack of any manners, you're safe with me."

  She looked down at her shaking hands. "I have acted appallingly toward you, Mr. Hudson. I apologize."

  Well, he hadn't seen that coming and he had no idea what to do with it. Cricking his neck, he decided to say nothing at all.

  "Here's the deal, I'm going to get you out of this tree and I'm going to stop those machines from doing what they're doing. Then, you're going to do exactly what I tell you as I tell you to do it."

  "I don't know—"

  He interrupted her. "It's non-negotiable. I'll leave you up here."

  "Am I paying you to treat me like this?"

  "Yes."

  She closed her eyes. "What is the first thing I'm going to have to do?"

  "Deciding if you can agree to what I want?"

  She shrugged and somehow managed to appear haughty even as she trembled.

  "Maybe."

  "The first thing you're going to do is move in with me."

  Her eyebrows shot up so high he wondered if they were going to fly off her face and into the night sky. "I most certainly will not."

  "I'm not asking you to move in with me. Trust me, you're not my type. Not at all.

  I like leggy blondes and you certainly are not that."

  Only for some reason she was his type, despite the fact he hadn't lied. He did like leggy blondes, so why the attraction to The Mouth, here? He shook his head; he couldn't dwell on that right now.

  "Well now that we've gotten that out of the way I like men who look like men and don't let their hair grow down to a ridiculous length where they might trip on it."

  He was used to the hair comments. They didn't bother him anymore and he should have expected no less after he'd insulted her. Although, he had to wonder if she'd like him better if he did cut it off.

  Again, he shook his head, as if the action might disburse such absurd thoughts.

  He had to get this onto some sort of professional level, end the baiting right now. "I'm all man, honey, and more than your prim little ass could take," he said, unable to resist throwing out one more jab. "Let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we? I need you to move in with me because I have my house set up in such a way that only I can control the machines in it. Let's just say, I take precautions."

  She fisted her hands at her side. "Stop calling me honey."

  The chainsaw below made a large grinding noise as it reached the center of the tree. They both stared down at it at the same time. Ace raised an eyebrow. The oak quivered as it lurched, about to fall over.

  Ace laughed and pulled Alice into his arms. She screamed. He hoped it was from the tree falling and not from the way he held her up against him, because whether he liked it or not, he enjoyed the sensation of having her close.

  He was so fucked.

  Chapter Four

  The Lycra blindfold Ace had made Alice wear as he flew her through the night sky itched. She wanted to complain, but as he seemed to care little for her personal comfort, she didn't know if it would do much good.

  Landing, he pulled the blindfold off her, still holding her in his arms. She swallowed and tried to ignore the warmth being pressed against him stirred inside of her. He was annoying, rude, difficult, cocky, and he had hair down past his waist. She was not attracted to him. She needed to keep repeating the new mantra over and over again in her mind. Or maybe, she simply needed to remember that he preferred leggy blondes. Even the thought made her want to smack him over the head.

  As he let her down, she shivered. She still had on her neighbor's bathrobe and the apron she'd worn when she'd run from the house. Ace hadn't thought it a good idea for her to go back home, not even for clothing. He wanted to get her to where the machines couldn't hurt her. Apparently, that one place was his, and, "oh, by the way, you're not allowed to know where that is."

  "I need to check to make sure you don't have a cell phone or anything mechanical on you."

  She raised an eyebrow. Was he kidding? "I'm in a bathrobe. I don't carry a full array of electronics on me when I rush from the house in an utter panic."

  "I have to check. Everything inside is safe. The electronics only respond to me.

  I've mentally constructed a field around each mechanical device in the house. I can use my ability to turn them on and off or make them move. Everyone else has to use a remote control or some other device. No one is breaking through it to find you. You're safe here."

  The word "safe" sent warm shivers up her back. She felt like she might actually be able to take a deep breath, which disturbed her because no way was it a good idea to let her guard down around Ace. With his strong physique and his long, blond hair that she usually abhorred but found she was liking more and more, he was a danger.

  He disrupted her sense of order. In Alice's life, she'd gotten good at putting people into the various boxes in which they belonged. Person A belonged in the "speak to them about career things" box. Person B fit nicely in "fun for a night of sex if you were feeling lonely" box. Ace wasn't fitting into his "Superhero who bothers me" box.

  No, not at all.

  Not after he'd pulled her from the tree, quieted the mechanical devices, and calmed the crowd. Plus, he'd been so darn polite the whole time. What was that all about? And his story about his single mother . . . . She swallowed away the lump that kept forming in her throat.

  She needed to speak. He stared at her with narrowed blue eyes and it felt too much like he could see into her soul.

  "Thank you," she said. "I'm sure I'll be perfectly safe in your bat cave."

  He shook his head. "Why does everyone keep referring to me as Batman? I don't even look like Batman. I have blond hair, for god's sake. He was never my favorite superhero."

  "Who was?" Not that she cared. Sheer curiosity drove her to question, nothing more.

  "Superman. Everyone's favorite superhero is Superman."

  "Sorry"—she laughed—"I think Draco Powers has that one all tied up. He's everyone's version of Superman."

  Ace's face fell and the mask of indifference he'd thrown on when she'd insulted him earlier reappeared. What had she said this time? She'd actually been attempting to be nice.

  "He's your boss, right?"

  "Yep, he's my boss. I'm not going to talk about Draco."


  "Ah . . . okay."

  Ace stepped toward the front door. "Oh, before I forget, I live with my little brother, Lael."

  She remembered the blond-haired teenager who had arrived with him at the studio. "Your sidekick?"

  "He's sixteen and he's my brother. Like all Superheroes, he has tremendous hearing and a very hard time going to sleep because he can hear every noise in the house. And by every noise, I mean every noise. He, as well as I, will be able to hear your heart beating."

  Alice wasn't sure where to put her hands or if she could make her leg stop fidgeting. That meant, in Ace's presence, no such thing as privacy existed.

  "I've been teaching him methods of coping. I have loud white noise makers surrounding his room. Still, if you scream it's going to wake him instantly, and then he might not get back to sleep."

  "In other words, if I want to kill you, I need to do it quietly?"

  One corner of Ace's mouth turned upwards in a half smile. "Exactly."

  "Do I need to whisper?"

  "Hopefully not. He's come a long way in a short time."

  With that strange statement, Ace opened the door to the house. He punched a code into an alarm keypad next to the door, then stepped inside. Alice followed in his wake. The house seemed frighteningly normal looking: contemporary, which wasn't really her taste, but friendly and well lit.

  The entryway opened into a large hallway. Off to the left, a living room and—

  she gulped—the most beautiful kitchen she'd ever seen outside of a restaurant. Walking to it, because she couldn't help but do otherwise, she spoke to Ace.

  "You cook?"

  "No, but my brother, my older brother—whose house this actually is—he always hoped his wife would cook. She does but probably not well enough to warrant the kitchen." He laughed like he'd made a joke. She didn't follow it. "Still, we're grateful just to be fed."

  "You live with two brothers? Wow, you must really like your family."

  Ace shrugged and stepped toward her. "What else is there?"

  She could tell him what else there was. Try pain, annoyance, grudges, and money, to name a few. Yeah . . . if she needed any more proof why not to fall for him, there it was. Ace Hudson was not compatible with her. She was never going to be a family person.

  "I'm going to go check on the kid."

  Well, she wasn't going to be left behind standing in his kitchen like an idiot.

  Turning on her heel, she followed him as quietly as she could down a long hallway, finally descending two flights of stairs. Heavens, who had designed this house? It reminded her of the board game Clue she'd played as a child. There were more turns than she could imagine. It was like a maze.

  Ace glanced over his shoulder at her when they went down the stairs. "I told you," he spoke in a hushed whisper. "You're safe here."

  That might be true, but she was in a bathrobe that didn't belong to her, covering her bare ass that was not hidden by an apron. She'd been chased by cars, assaulted by her stove, and scared to death by the lights in her basement. If she didn't want to be left alone, he would just have to deal with it.

  After all, she was paying him to put up with her, which hadn't been her idea, and he'd insisted she stay at his house. All of these things she wanted to say but since he'd told her not to make too much noise because of the teenager's sensitive hearing, she opted instead to press her finger to her mouth in the universal sign for, "Shh!"

  He responded with a universal sign of disgust by rolling his eyes and continuing down the stairs. She kept up her quiet follow.

  Finally, they arrived at Lael's room. His was an unusual name. She wondered where it came from. And for that matter, where was Lael's mother? His father? What was he doing living with Ace? She bit her lip to keep herself from speaking.

  Ace touched a screen illuminating a yellow light into the hall. A woman's voice spoke —way too loud— and Alice winced at the sound.

  "Where have you been? The television showed you flying away an hour ago."

  Whoever spoke to Ace from the other side of the screen had the type high-pitched, shrewish voice that could cut glass. Ace's response came out low pitched and laced with annoyance.

  "Thanks for watching him. Go to sleep. Come in late tomorrow."

  With that, he clicked the monitor and it went black. From inside the door next to it, a loud yell sounded. Ace's eyes got huge before he practically busted the door open getting it. Without a thought, she followed him.

  Lael thrashed on the bed, obviously still asleep. He called out . . . what was it?

  She looked uncertainly at the scene. To her profound annoyance, Ace didn't seem to have a clue what to do about the situation either. He ran a hand through his hair as he stared at his brother having a nightmare on the bed.

  "Mom."

  Lael called to his mother.

  Alice spoke using her regular tone thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea if she woke him. "Where is his Mother?"

  "She got blown up."

  Alice waited for the punch line. Only none came.

  His wail grew more profound, Lael rolled over screaming. "Mom!"

  Before she could rethink her actions, she moved forward. If Ace wasn't going to do anything, she would. Wrapping her arms around the teenager, she rubbed his back.

  "There, there."

  No one would ever call her maternal. She could do all the things you were supposed to be able to do as a wife or mother. She cooked; she cleaned—hell, she even knew how to sew, and almost no one knew how to do that anymore. But kids? Children were like a species that existed on a different planet.

  Lael, however, wasn't really a child. He was physically almost the size of Ace.

  "Shh." She rubbed his back. No one had done this for her when she was growing up, but she'd seen it done on television. Mothers did it frequently to quiet their children.

  She shivered at the thought. She was not his mother. Would never be his mother.

  Still, she held on because it seemed to settle him. After a few moments, she felt the stiffness leave his body and he began to softly snore.

  When Ace spoke, his voice sounded different. She couldn't put her finger on how, though.

  "Thank you," he said.

  She smiled. "He's really out cold."

  "He has disastrous nightmares. I shouldn't have left him tonight."

  And that he had, she realized, was her fault. "Sorry about getting stuck in the tree. It's not like I planned to ruin your evening."

  She'd never liked being made to feel badly about things beyond her control.

  Patting Lael once more on the back, she stood from the bed. Easing away, she regarded Ace.

  "What I meant—and for the record I really don't like having to explain myself—is that I should have taken him with me," he said. "I should have let him go into school late."

  "Do you want to show me where I'm supposed to sleep? The couch?"

  The house was huge, tons of rooms, but she didn't want to assume she would actually have a bed. Of course, since she was paying, maybe she should demand his bed.

  "You're right down here." He motioned to the left with his head and walked out of the room into the hall. She followed quickly after she closed Lael's door.

  Ace opened up a door two to the left from Lael's room and stepped inside. When she entered, she sighed in relief. She wouldn't have to sleep on some lumpy couch, after all. She crossed to the huge four poster, slipped out of the robe and tossed it on the foot of the bed. She needed to free herself of everything reminding her of this night.

  "This whole floor is mine. My older brother, when he's home, is upstairs, and I stay here with Lael and—Holy shit! You're naked under that thing." Ace stared, jaw gaping.

  Alice looked down in horror as her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

  "Oh god."

  She whirled around and leaned down to scoop up the robe.

  Ace let loose a long, low whistle. "You've got a great ass, Alice Styles."

  She
felt her cheeks heat up as she pulled the robe back on and fastened the sash.

  "I forgot. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be sorry."

  Ace's eyes were volcanic as he walked toward her. "I have to tell you, Ms. Styles, with all the fantasies I've had of your posterior, I did not do you justice."

  "Ace." She swallowed. What was she supposed to say? She'd flashed herself to him and— wow—he'd reacted. He moved until he stood behind her.

  "What?" he asked, sounding perplexed.

  "I'm not your type."

  His breath tickled the back of her neck. "You're really not. I meet women all the time. You're never the type I go home with. And yet . . . I have wet dreams about you like I'm still Lael's age."

  "Oh my god, Ace, you shouldn't say those kinds of things to me."

  Because she didn't know what to do with them. Because since she'd gotten famous no one spoke to her like that anymore. Ever. Because his words made her insides melt with the sheer sexuality of the images in her mind. Ace having a wet dream.

  "Alice, I want to squeeze your ass." Ace rubbed his nose on the back of her neck and her knees nearly buckled. "And if you don't tell me to stop, I'm going to do it right now."

  "Um . . . ." What was happening here? Why couldn't she think?

  "You should tell me to stop."

  Her mouth went dry. "If I let you squeeze my ass, it doesn't mean I want to have sex with you." Liar.

  "Oh, you want to sleep with me. I can hear the lie in your voice."

  Her pulse sped up. "You can hear lies?"

  "Yes. Now, I'm going to squeeze your sweet little ass."

  His large hands stroked both of her butt cheeks and she gasped. "You said squeeze."

  Ace laughed, a warm sound that swept over her body, making her even hotter.

  "I'm sorry. Did I take too many liberties on your naked ass? How's this?"

  He didn't just squeeze, he swept her robe out of the way and dug into her naked skin. Her knees trembled. Finally, he let go. She whirled around. His face looked passive, which pissed her off. Another moment of that caressing and she might have come—standing—right there.

  Her gaze traveled down his body and froze as she saw it. Ace's hard length bulged the front of his jeans. And that thing was large. She swallowed as she tried to regain her equilibrium.