Page 50 of All Superheroes Need PR
His words are harsh but make me warm in the cobweb-ridden recesses of my soul. The places I haven’t explored in a while, the drawers I’ve left shut for fear of what they hold.
“I have to buy you dinner first. Is that the rule?”
Rollo sticks his head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush half hanging out of his mouth. He’s got a towel slung around his waist that does nothing to hide his still-prominent erection. “Since when did you become a sex maniac?”
My jaw nearly unhinges with how big my mouth gapes. I bust out a laugh and giggle into the ruined sheets underneath me. “I am not a sex maniac. Also ... are you sure you’re okay? The mark on your chest, it looks bigger ... and is that another one on your ribs?”
“Fine. And yes, you are a sex maniac.”
“Even if you are right, it’s your fault.” He grunts a laugh, but my smile slips. “And seriously, Rollo, what is that? It doesn’t look good.”
“It’s nothing. Just some scratches. Must have gotten nicked worse than I thought when I went into that car.”
“It didn’t look like a cut when I was looking earlier.”
“Peeping, you mean?”
I blush. “Well ...”
“There are no rules to this, or if there are any, I don’t know them. You might be inexperienced, but I guarantee you aren’t as inexperienced as I am with this shit. Stuff.” He spits, and the shower goes on. He speaks more muffled, like he’s talking through the glass. “I want to take you on a date.”
“A date? Really?”
“A real one. Not a fake anything.” He sounds pissed off again, and I’m not sure why.
I feel a little insecure about this, wading into dark waters without a life jacket. “Like dinner?”
“Is that what women like for dates?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug honestly. “Like I said, I don’t really date.”
“Me either.”
I snort. “You don’t say?”
“You teasing me, Nessa?”
I can’t help the lazy smile that sweeps my cheeks. I am teasing him, aren’t I? That ... might be a first for me. “No?”
“For that, I think you have to say yes.”
“Are those the rules?”
“Told you there weren’t any rules.”
“You gave me rules earlier.” My voice is soft, but I know he still hears me.
He goes quiet until, “You’re tempting me again, Nessa.”
“Sorry,” I whisper.
He stays quiet. I roll off the bed and manage to find some clothes. I’ll need to shower too—but my stomach chooses that moment to grumble. I think I might need some lunch first. What time is it? I glance around, looking for my phone at the same time that the water turns off. As I drag on black leggings and a black long-sleeve tee and take a seat on the edge of the bed, he makes his way out of the bathroom looking every bit a god of sun.
His eyes are pure fire as they watch me, and I stay seated, my hands relaxed on the tops of my thighs, as he steps up between my knees. He’s still only wearing a towel, holding it up with one hand while his other grips my chin with his pointer finger and his thumb.
He says gruffly, “You’re good with rules, aren’t you, Nessa?”
I nod, feeling thirsty all of a sudden.
