Molten Desire - Chapter Two

  
Chapter Two
 
By
Bernadette Gardner
 
Brad’s trip through the alley behind the Metro One building usually garnered him nothing more than a minute or two off his walk home and the occasional grungy feeling.
Today, it got him a woman.
The sounds that drew his attention came in rapid fire—first the creak of old metal, then a sharp, startled scream.
Molten Man would have shot a concentrated beam of microwave energy at the railroad trestle that spanned the alley. He’d have melted the overstressed steel, allowing it to flow harmlessly toward the ground to deposit the woman safely on her feet.
Brad Compton, on the other hand, just caught her in his arms. He sank to one knee to absorb the impact and groaned convincingly, as if the effort taxed his mutated musculature.
Her pale blue eyes met his, and her jaw dropped. “You caught me!”
“I…uh. Yeah.”
He set her on her feet—one of which was bare. The other was encased in a dainty beige pump. She wobbled a little, but managed to regain her composure after smoothing her sleek wool skirt and crisp white cotton blouse. After a deep breath, she pushed blond curls out of her eyes with the back of one hand and offered him the other.
“I’m not sure how to thank you. You saved my life.”
Here we go again. Brad shrugged. He opened his mouth to deliver his standard Molten Man disclaimer: “Don’t thank me, miss. It’s my job to offer assistance in any way I can.” Fortunately, before he got a word out, he realized Molten Man was off duty. No orange spandex. No heat-resistant gloves.
He was Brad, and this woman was breathlessly, shockingly gorgeous.
“I’m Paige Weller, by the way. I’m so glad you happened along.”
Brad glanced up at the cracked I-beam. “Mind if I ask how you managed to get up there?”
A sexy blush tinged her high cheek bones. “Ah, well…there was this little cat and…” She grinned. “I’m really grateful you happened along.”
Her smile was genuine, if a little self-conscious. She seemed sweetly embarrassed by her mishap. Those beautiful periwinkle eyes drew him into a quick sexual fantasy in which she demonstrated her gratitude by—
—kissing him. The chaste peck on the cheek wasn’t quite what he had in mind, but it stirred his irradiated blood nevertheless.
“Honestly, miss—”
“Call me Paige, please.” She lingered for a moment, close enough for the essence of magnolias to tease his senses. If she smelled that sweet, how would she taste, he wondered?
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?” she asked. “I know that sounds so trite, but it seems rude to just say, see ya’ around.”
Molten Man was honor bound to never accept gifts from those he rescued. Even the musky perfumed panties women regularly tried to stuff into his utility belt had to be returned.
Brad, on the other hand, was just a regular guy who probably deserved at least a cup of java for saving this lovely lady from a cracked skull. “Sure. I know a place just around the corner that serves sixteen flavors of latte.” He cringed. Had he really just admitted his love for flavored latte to this woman? Maybe he should have suggested a shot of hard whiskey at a local bar instead.
“Sounds great.” She looped her arm through his. “Mr.?”
“Compton. Brad. Call me Brad.”
“Well, Brad, let me sneak back into my office to grab my purse…oh and pick up my other shoe, I think that’s it over there, and we’ll be on our way for…coffee.”
 *     *     *     *     *
 There was just something about the mysterious Brad Compton that lit Paige’s fire. In the health-conscious, gym-obsessed 2030s, blond-haired, green-eyed hunks were a dime a dozen. Unlike most of the men Paige met these days, however, Brad had a fresh, outdoorsy charm.
He smelled like citrus soap and warm summer breezes, not overpriced cologne and new money. Beneath his open denim jacket, his abs and pecs rippled under a tight white T-shirt. She wanted to run her hands over all his impressive ridges and valleys. These were muscles that came from honest physical activity, not endless reps and a handful of steroids. Her hands ached to wrap around a thick bicep and squeeze.
What had gotten into her?
Well…nothing for a while. That was the problem. It had been months since she’d met a man who wasn’t trying to emulate one of the Daring Dozen, or some other rogue mutant. The superhero craze was getting out of hand, and her sex life was suffering for it.
All her girlfriends wanted to bag a man in spandex and thigh-high vinyl boots, and Paige was the odd girl out. Regular guys just weren’t chic anymore, and that was a terrible shame.
She’d met a few of the toniest superheroes and found them all yawn-worthy. How long could you listen to a guy talk about stopping bullets with his teeth or tearing apart a burning building with his bare hands to rescue a dozen trapped schoolchildren?
Guilt stabbed at Paige again. Of course, saving people’s lives was wonderful and noble, a tremendous gift, but after the fifteenth telling, even the most hair-raising tales of derring-do got old.
She grinned at Brad as they settled into two wrought iron chairs on the sidewalk outside the café and set their lattes on the dinner-plate sized table between them. “So, do you always happen to walk through that alley, or did I just get incredibly lucky today?”
He pursed his lips to blow on his latte, then sipped the hot liquid before speaking. Paige found her gaze riveted to his mouth, and her own fell open in frank admiration.
“Hello?” he said.
“What? I’m sorry. I zoned out for a minute there. I guess I’m still in shock.”
He smiled in a self-conscious way. Had he noticed her drooling? “I was saying, I usually take the subway. I guess fate stepped in today.”
“What do you do…that normally takes you on the subway?”
“I’m a landscape architect. I own a little company called Sunny Side Lawn and Garden. We mostly handle homes in the suburbs north and west.”
“Mmm. Nice areas.” Paige mentally kicked herself for not paying attention. “It must be nice to work outdoors all day. I’m a market analyst. Most days I never even see daylight.”
“That’s too bad. I’d go stir crazy if I couldn’t get outside.” He sipped his coffee again, and Paige tried not to stare at the sensual way his lips curved. She found herself wondering if he’d taste like mocha and rich, Colombian coffee. “Considering what happened today, though, maybe you’re safer in your office.”
She laughed, only mildly mortified. “Please. Welcome to my life. If I didn’t go looking for trouble, it would come and find me. I’m one of those people that proves Murphy’s Law every day.”
“Well, I guess Murphy cut you a break this afternoon. You seem none the worse for wear.”
“Yeah…” Once again she’d sunk into a daydream about his lips, his hands, his chest… She roused herself with a quick sip of latte and burned her tongue. “Ow! Hot.”
He nodded, and Paige got the impression he wasn’t referring to the coffee.
She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. A tremor of desire started low in her belly and danced upward. Beneath her blouse, her nipples peaked. Below the table, she squeezed her legs together to combat the sudden ache in her clit. Some undisciplined part of her made a decision right then, one she vaguely hoped she wouldn’t regret.
“Brad…” Oh God, was she really going to do this? “I don’t normally do this…at all, not just with men I just met or men who catch me when I fall out of the sky, but I was wondering—and if you think I’m a freak or being too forward, just say so right now—”
“You’re rambling,” he offered. His eyes locked on hers, and for some reason, rather than the usual sense of panic she felt under someone’s intense scrutiny, a warm calm washed over her.
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“No, what did you want to ask me? I don’t think you’re a freak at all, by the way.”
Salvage the moment. The little voice in her head that occasionally told her the right thing to do issued a deadpan command that Paige did her best to obey. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
Her lips formed the words, but her mind supplied the thought behind them. Let me take you back to my place and rip that tight T-shirt off your magnificent body. Let me lick my way down from those gorgeous lips all the way to the tip of your cock and devour you in one long swallow.
“Is it hot in here?” she asked, fanning herself.
“In here? We’re outside.”
“Right. Out here.” Good Lord. What would he think if he knew that under her prim, colorless business suit raged the hormones of a sex-starved nymph?
It had been so long. So very long.
“I’d love to go for a walk.”
“Great…why don’t we just take our coffee and…go?”
Taking a man back to her apartment half an hour after meeting him was, of course, a terrible idea, but the image of Brad lying naked on her bed wouldn’t leave her mind.
Maybe after a nice long walk, they’d end up at her place, and she could convince herself that a one night stand with the perfect guy was better than a string of unsatisfactory relationships with superhero wannabees.
Okay, for Paige that was a foregone conclusion, but could she convince him?
 Stay tuned for Chapter Three… 

She had to lean up on her toes to bring her mouth even with his, and when she did, when she brushed her soft, pink lips against his, Molten Man caught fire.
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Published by: Bernadette Gardner
copyright 2015 Bernadette Gardner
Cover art by BGD
Note: This story was previously published under the title:
The Adventures of Molten Man, No. 1. (Amber Quill Press, 2006).
This is a standalone story that has not been significantly altered from its original version.
 
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, brands, media and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
 
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