Page 21 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
My excitement only intensified as I exited the revolving doors and saw Xander waiting for me at the curb. He was casually leaning against a sleek sports car, dressed like some sort of GQ model in a perfectly cut dark gray suit, wearing that expensive watch of his that probably cost more than my stupid condo.
Sugar, he looks good.
As soon as I got within arm’s reach, he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer. The touch was possessive and just shy of rough, and my entire body melted into a puddle of goo because of it.
“How was your day at the office, sweetheart?” he purred in my ear, rubbing two fingers along the lapel of my suit jacket as if testing the quality of the material. His lips brushed against mine for an agonizingly chaste kiss before he took a step back, running his disarming gaze over me as he opened the passenger side door.
“Torture,” I admitted on an exhale, finally feeling like I could breathe again in his presence. “All I did was count down the hours until I saw you again.”
For a moment, I worried I was being too open with my feelings—that maybe I should play harder to get. But then the skin around his eyes crinkled, a satisfied smirk turning up the corners of his lips, lighting me up. It was exactly like when I broke through heavy cloud cover to be suddenly blinded and warmed by the sun beyond.
I’ve got it bad.
“Mmm, I bet.” His gaze pointedly dropped to my crotch before lifting to meet mine again. “I hope you can continue to behave through drinks and dinner because I need you fed. I have plans for you afterward.”
“Yes, I can behave,” I croaked, nodding eagerly as I brushed past him to sit in the passenger seat. My dick gave another kick as I noticed his tie had subtle green accents—the same shade as Doctor Antihero’s Lycra…
Stop it.
That I was actually thinking about mynemesiswhile on a date with Xander made a sharp stab of shame course through me.
“You’re sweating,” he casually remarked as he slid into the driver’s side and immediately adjusted the A/C. “Did you take the stairs or something?” That amber gaze swept over me again, missing nothing.
“No, the elevator was faster,” I hurriedly replied, guilt assaulting me at the little white lie. “I'm just naturally sweaty.”
Why the heck would I say that?
He smirked again as he turned his focus to the road and pulled into traffic. “That’s fine. I’ll just lick it off you later.”
“Sugar!” I gasped, desperately pressing the heel of my palm against my groin. The memory of Xanderlicking my cumoff my abs the night before had me clearing my throat, desperately scrambling for a safer topic of conversation. “So, I guess your sister returned your car, huh?”
“She did.” He rolled his eyes. “Her point was made, so there was no need to continue holding my poorbabyhostage.” A long finger lovingly caressed the leather steering wheel, causing such irrational jealousy to flare up within me that my powers momentarily pulsed beneath my skin.
Cheez-its, I really need to get a grip.
“Are you… all right?” Xander was looking at me with a furrowed brow as we stopped at a red light. “If you’re not feeling well, I could drive you back to The Gloucester.”
His confusion gave way to concern, and I realized I truly needed to calm down so I didn’t ruin this date. For a moment, I tensed, hoping I hadn’t blown my cover, but I quickly dismissed my anxiety.
There was no way a normie could have picked up on my power flare, and the subtle display I just gave would only be detectable by an extremely powerful supe, anyway. I couldn’t allow my ridiculous emotions—over Xander’s safety or his affection for his car—to make me lose control like that.
I have a public image to maintain.
“No, I'm fine, I promise.” I plastered on my best charming smile. “My boss just rode me hard today, so I may need a coffee, but I really want to hang out with you, promise.”
“Good to hear.” He tightly smiled, although his annoyance wasn’t aimed at me. “Solomon Biggs should get the memo that the only one allowed to ride you hard is me.”
Fudgesicles… How am I going to make it through drinks and dinner?
Another anxious thought suddenly occurred to me. “I hope I’m dressed appropriately for wherever we’re going…”
Xander glanced at me as he shifted the car into a higher gear, the only expression on his face being bald hunger. “Butch, you look like a fuckingsnackright now. It’s taking all my self-control to not drive you straight home and gorge myself on your cock. But I’ll save that treat for dessert.”
Sugar honey iced freakin’ tea!
I couldn’t help it. I rested my sticky forehead against the glove box and moaned in despair. The effect Xander had on me was unreal, and while Ienjoyedhow it made me feel, it was also complete torture.
Be good, be good, be good.
