Page 90 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
“My suit is self-healing and administers first-aid,” he explained with a shrug before eyeing me warily. “I get torn up a lot.”
Instead of reminding Butch who tore him up the most, I was hit with the reality of who he was and what he faced regularly. If you didn’t count my recent altercations with Vortexio and my parents, I’d never taken on another supe—never could—but the man standing before me was numero uno on every villain’s shit list within a hundred-mile radius.
This realization made my stress levels skyrocket through the fucking roof.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Because he was a perfect little psychic cinnamon roll, Butch was immediately at my side, cocooning me in glorious muscles and fresh, ocean air. “You’re worrying about me,” he murmured into my neck. “Please don’t.”
I huffed. “It was a lot easier when I only had to deal with the slim chance of my sweet, innocent normie getting caught in supe crossfire I was never involved in, anyway.”
He lifted his head so he could meet my gaze, his expression as serious as I’d ever seen it. “Yes, but now I haveyouto protect me.”
My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Instead of pointing out the obvious—that Captain fucking Masculine could take care of himself—Butch was implyingIcould somehow save him from our enemies, who were multiplying by the minute.
“W-what the fuck am I gonna do?” I choked out. “I have nothing to—”
“Stop it,” he snapped, grabbing both of my hands in his. “Doesthisfeel like nothing?”
I gasped as scalding flames and punishing winds shot through my veins—unfamiliar sensations Butch had experienced since birth now dancing at my fingertips, begging me to play.
How does he not implode from the overstimulation?
“That’s not me!” I vehemently shook my head, even as the euphoria of whatever was happening tried to tell me otherwise. “This power is all yours.”
He sighed, his eyelids fluttering like he was getting off on it. “No, it’s not. It’s amplified—cycling back to me tenfold. My powers haveneverfelt this strong before, and when you were blasting your mother with ice and your father with… whatever the heck that was, those powers became accessible to me, too. This is incredible.You’reincredible.”
I snatched my hands away as panic bubbled up in my chest. “But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing to make it happen. I tried to recreate the windpower I threw at Vortexio when security dragged me out of the Enterprises building, but I wasn’t able—”
Butch stumbled backward, all color draining from his face. “What did you say? When did you fight my father?!”
Oh, shit.
“Yeah…” I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck and realizing just how insane the past couple of days had been. “When yourdear old dad pulled me out of Biggs’ office, he took me up to the roof and tried to toss me off with some wind. When that didn’t work, he told meCaptain Masculinewas the one leaving bruises on you. Clearly he was fucking with me…”
I trailed off as Butch released an inhuman sound, like an injured animal backed into a corner, ready to bite the first person dumb enough to approach.
“That fucking bastard set us up,” he snarled. “The entire reason I was at our beach when you confronted me in uniform was because my boss suddenly ordered me to kill Doctor Antihero—right after my father privately met with him.”
The realization that Vortexio knew who I was, both in and out of uniform, sucked all the pleasure out of hearing Butch swear and refer to the cove as ‘our’ beach.
I should kill the man for that alone.
“Why does your father care so much about us?” I ran a hand through my hair, desperate for this to make sense. “Besides the fact that his only son is banging a villain with a huge cock instead of some respectable hero chick.”
Butch swallowed hard, although he looked slightly less rabid. “We’re not justbanging,Xan.”
“Oh, baby, I know…” I immediately closed the distance between us to get my hands on those muscles again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t.” He smiled, although he still looked nervous. “WhatImean is… the reason my father wants to keep us apart is because of the connection we share. It’s also probably because—”
Before Butch could say more, someone knocked on the warehouse door.
Not the door near the loading dock—where any deliveries I’d arranged would arrive—but the door camouflaged so completely from the outside that not even supe-vision would help you find it.
Who the fuck is out there?
And why are they bothering to knock?
