Molten Desire - Chapter Five

 Chapter Five
 
By
Bernadette Gardner
 
Paige awoke to the voice of Dorothy Cromwell, Metro Morning News Anchor. Dorothy cheerily reported that The Reaper had captured a mad scientist named Carnivale only seconds before he was scheduled to shut off power to every city hospital.
Paige rolled over and shut off the alarm radio. “Yada, yada,” she mumbled before the stab of guilt took over. She was glad the hospitals were safe, but that meant the news would be buzzing all day with The Reaper’s unparalleled prowess, until some other member of the Daring Dozen did something equally earth shattering.
Next to her, a mountainous silhouette stirred under the blankets of her bed. Brad.
Panic struck her when she realized she had morning breath and bed head. The sexy seductress who’d lured him to her apartment last night had morphed back into her every day identity: Frump Girl.
She whimpered and slithered off the mattress just as he rolled over, blindly searching the rumpled sheets for her.
Gathering underwear and her terry cloth robe as she went, Paige crawled across the bedroom floor, quiet as a kitten. When his head popped up from the pillows, sultry and sleepy-eyed, she was reasonably prepared for him.
“Get back here,” he rumbled. “I’ve got a present for you.”
She pursed her lips and smoothed her spiky hair with one casual hand. “What kind of present?”
“A long, hard—”
A knock at the front door interrupted him. Paige winced. “I’ll be right back.”
She leaped out of the bedroom, still concerned that the light of day would reveal far too many flaws in her character. Besides the cellulite on her thighs and the dust on her coffee table—hadn’t she just cleaned yesterday?—she feared Brad’s declarations in the shower might have been nothing more than a response to the steamy heat of the moment.
She flung open the door and found Marley, her best friend, decked in her usual ensemble, a soft peasant top and diaphanous party-colored skirt. Marley’s dark brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’ve got a man in there, don’t you?”
Part gypsy, Marley had a sixth sense that wobbled between annoying and down right spooky. It would do Paige no good to lie about her evening liaison.
“How did you know that?” Paige shushed her friend and glanced over her shoulder at the partially open bedroom door. “Quiet, he’ll hear you.”
“That’ll make us even, sugar. You forget, this floor is pretty thin. I can hear everything that goes on in your bedroom clearer than cable TV.”
Paige covered her eyes. “Oh…”
Marley laughed and patted Paige’s shoulder. “That’s why we’re friends, sweetie. Until now, your love life was just as dismal as mine, so I always got a good night’s sleep. I have to confess, after the fifth ‘Oh God!’ I was getting a little jealous.”
Paige could just imagine the shade of scarlet her cheeks had turned.
Marley winked. “So he’s big, huh? Can I see?”
“Marley!”
“I mean, his face, not his prick.”
“Either way, no. Go home. I’ll tell you all about it later.” Paige tried to stuff Marley back into the hallway. She wasn’t ready for her friend to witness the ubiquitous and awkward morning after good-byes.
“You don’t need to tell me about it. I feel like I was there.”
Paige winced again. “Now you’re getting creepy. Go!”
“All right, all right. The only reason I stopped by anyway was to tell you I’ll be at the Daring Dozen Expo tonight. I’ve still got that extra ticket, if you want to come.”
“Ugh. No way. I don’t think I could stand all that triple helix testosterone in one place. Don’t tell me you’re still trying to get your hooks into one of them?”
“Not just any one of them.” Marley winked as she retreated into the hallway. “I plan to sink my teeth into one very scrumptious hunk of super beefcake tonight.”
“Which one is it this week?” Paige tried not to roll her eyes as she inched the door shut.
Markey peeked through the narrowing crack and grinned. “I’m going to meet, greet and treat the one and only Molten Man. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck, now go!”
Paige closed the door and keyed the combo lock. She sighed and leaned against the door, remembering the last time she’d stood in this spot. One of her pearl buttons glinted on the floor and she bent to retrieve it.
“I’ll never understand that girl,” she muttered, tucking the button into the pocket of her robe. “You couldn’t pay me to sleep with a superhero.”
 *     *     *     *     * 

Somewhere in the middle of Paige’s conversation with her neighbor, Brad realized his jeans and his underwear were still in the living room. He debated waltzing out of the bedroom in nothing but a towel, or a bed sheet, but decided against it when he heard the words “Daring Dozen Expo.” Damn. That was tonight, and he had to be there.
Plus he had at least eight suburban gardens to mulch today. His plans for keeping Paige in a haze of sexual fulfillment all day long dissolved with the harsh light of reality.
He’d have to give her that all-purpose and horribly lame parting line, “I’ll call you.”
When she returned to the bedroom, she had his clothes draped over her arm. “Sorry about that. Marley is an early riser. We sort of keep tabs on each other.”
“No big deal. Did I hear her mention the Expo?”
Paige made a face—a cute but puckered face. “Don’t tell me you’re a Super Groupie.”
“Me? Nah. Never. You?”
“Oh, please. The last thing I need is a man who can run faster than a cheetah or leap a Greyhound bus with a baby in each hand. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for rescuing people, especially babies and everything, but—”
“Or cats,” Brad deadpanned.
She grinned, and her eyes twinkled. “Or cats. But seriously, give me a break. Spandex, capes and masks? I prefer my men in distressed denim or nothing at all.”
Her seductive comment, coupled with a saucy wink, ignited a spark, but there wasn’t time to fan the flame again this morning. Reluctantly Brad pulled on his jeans. “So you hate superheroes?”
“I don’t hate them. I’m not a super villain or anything. I just—well, unlike Marley, I don’t want to date one.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. I mean, it’s not like one would ever ask me out. Superheroes usually go for Super Models, right? Hey, don’t look so worried. I absolutely don’t have the secret hots for Molten Man or DemiGog. Blech. You have me all to yourself.”
She kissed him and within minutes, miraculously and despite the time, Brad had lost track of his underwear and jeans again.
 Stay tuned for Chapter Six…
 “I’m not interested in starting a collection of men.”
 Posted here next week!
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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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