Putting Out for a Hero (Villainous Things, #3)

by C. Rochelle

It was Simon who replied, no surprise. “Perhaps your body is going into fight mode, Baby Hulk, in response to the threat of adulting. Except, in your case, that means all available blood has rushed to the only head of yours that continues operating under duress.”

How the hell am I supposed to do all that? I’m only… The Dumb One.

Yes, I’d absolutely worn my ‘I’m With Stupid’ T-shirt for Baltasar’s arrival today, and planned our seats so the arrow would point his way.

“Thanks for the tour, and for cutting me… cutting me FREE, I mean. And for showing me your hole. YOUR SWIMMING HOLE! Jesus Christ, I’m done. I’m fucking done. I’m just gonna go to my room now. Alone. So I can… be alone for… alone time. Jesus.” My beast was clawing to get out. I watched as this ridiculously stacked, awkward bundle of villainous sweetness adjusted his hard-on before spinning on his heel and fleeing the scene of his bi-awakening. I must have him.

There was no reason for me not to tell my gay brother and his gay mafia queen that I might like dick. Hell, the whole gay family would probably throw me a big gay party to celebrate me joining the rest of them on the apparently more exciting side of the playing field.

But here I was, feeling some kind of way about the idea of Zion Salah overpowering me. I’m baby…

“Fuck you, Zion,” I spat, turning away from him to wrench open the door. “Mmm, I wish,” he crooned behind me. “Whenever you’re ready, beautiful.”