Page 6 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
There wasn’t much to be done about it. Hero and villain names were officially chosen and announced by the supe clans they hailed from. Since I didn’t have worthy powers, I’d never been publicly acknowledged. As far as the world knew, Glacial Girl and Apocalypto Man only produced five supervillain babies who were now full-grown terrors.
Nothing like being your family’s dirty little secret.
To my annoyance, I saw the port of arrival was the Royal Cove Yacht Club on Rose Island—the main setting ofBored Trophy Wives of Awakener’s Bay.Unfortunately, the high-profile location meant I probably wouldn’t be killing anyone after all.
The red tape alone would be a nightmare.
I wished I could tell Kai what I was up to, because she would have lived for theTrophy Wivesdrama it provided. It would be nice to talk to anyone about what I did all day, but that was a pipe dream, considering who I was.
Hopping in my limited edition Audi, I employed some of Dr. Ownit’s breathing techniques as I drove to the docks. I had to use every trick at my disposal to turn the helpless rage coursing through my veins into more productive emotions.
Like a defiant five-year plan.
Three hours later, I was parking near the Tick Tock Diner on 57th, eager to erase this dumpster fire of an afternoon. Any assumptions that the scum I’d be dealing with today would somehow belessscummy simply because they were loaded were completely misguided. Their morals were looser than theTrophy Wivesthey married, and their twisted joy when they checked my mother’s goods made me sick to my stomach.
She no doubt chosethatmerchandise for me specifically.
I paused outside the door of the blindingly silver 1950s-style diner, willing my mask of self-control to slide back into place. While I’d been annoyed at first that Kai created a Bangers profile for me, she’d uncannily tracked down the exact type of man I preferred to fuck the pain away.
Big, hot, and dumb as a box of rocks.
Of course, I didn’t actually know if Butch was stupid, but he seemed to fit the big and hot requirements to a T. This was confirmed as the bells over the door jangled behind me and I met the gaze of the biggest, hottest, and hopefully, dumbest piece of ass I’d ever seen.
Thank you, Kai, for what this dick is about to receive.
Plastering on a charming smile that felt halfway real, I strode down the narrow aisle toward the booth where Butch was sitting. An even more genuine smile curled my lips as hestood upto greet me—like some sort of adorably oversized little gentleman.
“Thanks for coming, Xander,” he murmured, as if he were trulygratefulfor my presence.
Maintaining eye contact as we both sat, I licked my lips. “You can thank me for coming later,” I winked, almost losing my shit when heBLUSHED LIKE A GODDAMN SCHOOLGIRLat my suggestiveness.
Lord, take me now!
Needing to calm myself before I bent him over the questionably clean table, I threw an arm over the back of my bench seat and glanced around. “So this place has amazing fried chicken, huh?”
“Yeah, it does!” he exclaimed, bouncing in his seat like a big blond puppy until he suddenly looked shy again. “I mean, I really hope you agree…”
I cocked my head at his change in tone, scrutinizing how oddly nervoushe seemed, considering this date had been arranged on a notoriously casual dating app.
No. Not nervous.
Eager to please.
Jesus H, this man was perfect. Not only was he built like a mountain begging to be climbed, but I highly suspected I was dealing with a dormant submissive on the verge of eruption.
Let’s test this hypothesis by adding another variable…
“What are you going to eat?” I softly asked, purposefully keeping my voice low and calm so he’d become comfortable enough to let down his guard.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that Butch’s Bangers profile stated he was looking for women only, yet here he was with me. My guess was he’d probably never been with a man before, but was very,verycurious about it. This thought alone was threatening to turn me absolutely feral, so I was forcing myself to at leasttrynot to be overly aggressive.
As painful as it is.
He shrugged, a single dimple making an appearance as he nibbled his tasty bottom lip. “I usually get the chicken and waffles, but that’s only if it’s a cheat day.”
I swept my gaze over his impressive form, bulging muscles straining beneath his freshly ironed designer dress shirt. Clearly, he was someone who took care of himself—both in and outside the gym—which I greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, this observation only conjured up a vision of my date, bent over a weight bench, naked and sweaty.
Begging for it.
