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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
C. Rochelle
Read between
February 23 - February 23, 2024
A very confused bi- (possibly Pan-) awakening meets “I’ve always been bi for you”/“I even pretended the woman I was with before was you” (it’s complicated)
Self-worth issues related to intelligence and “usefulness” within one’s family Neurodiverse MC (undiagnosed ADHD with high anxiety)
“Guys, I can’t feel my nuts. I think my suit might have shrunk in the wash or something.”
My vision was hazy, and I was breathing like Coach had made me run the field for days. And my chest ached. In fact, it ached worse the closer we got to Sunrise City. What is my fucking problem?
How the hell am I supposed to do all that? I’m only… The Dumb One
I just want to make him proud.
“My dad gave it to me,” she finally replied. “He told me to sneak into your room when you were sleeping later, so I could give you a heart attack in the middle of the night. But I got bored of waiting.”
But I was secretly pleased that my snobby family was being forced to welcome an outsider they saw as beneath them. Too bad they couldn’t manage it years ago…
He’s what wet dreams are made of.
“Because I’m already the greatest disappointment this family has ever known, so what’s one more nail in my coffin?” I muttered, piling meat on both our plates before realizing I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
In fact, I was used to eating most of my meals with my little girl, since she wasn’t welcome in the formal dining room, especially not for special occasions. Why include actual family when we have arranged engagements to celebrate?
but the real reason was that I didn’t trust my beast not to kill someone on the field.
Little did they know, all I ever wanted was to stick my dick in my rival’s tight end.
The strangest part—and what kept me awake for a while afterward—wasn’t the faint noise, or concerns about being attacked. I’d felt unsettled, as if I were forgetting something important, and my chest ached the same way it did after certain Deathball matches. I’d felt… empty.
What I understood with absolute certainty was that I was not okay with this little girl being upset about anything. Not while I’m around.
“Mine,” he replied, still staring at me like he wanted to eat me alive. “I mean… she’s mine, yes. Daisy is.” He blinked rapidly before his gaze shifted to where his daughter sat on my shoulders. “For almost ten years now.”
The comforting heat from the stove, the aroma of cooking vegetables, and the sound of food preparation reminded me of my favorite place back home. I wonder what Betsy’s cooking right now. Without my help…
“Perfect for when Daisy dresses you up in one of her tutus later.”
That is freaky as fuck. And kind of hot… Wait, what?
He could chase me down this tunnel like it was nothing. Why is that idea turning me on?!
I’m straight, but I’m just not thinking straight. Oh, no. What if my supersuit was so tight it cut off my air supply… Through my nuts?!
“Anything you want to share, B? You can tell me. I’ll keep your secrets.” I want you to sink your fangs into my throat. OHMYFUCKINGGAWWWD!
And I will absolutely not be thinking about Zion Salah while I’m at it. Because I’m totally straight.
I don’t think Baltasar is straight… This is trouble.
Even more annoying was the fact I would have gladly aligned the two of us years ago—figuratively and literally—if he liked men. Which he supposedly didn’t.
“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.
Thanks to this tasty prize falling in my lap, I’d reignited my will to rule this clan—to take back my birthright. Claiming Baltasar would be the perfect revenge against those who’d disrespected my daughter and the mother of my child. Plus, I’d finally get the chance to sink my claws into the man I’d wanted since I first laid eyes on him.
Well, I kind of did, but the only other times I’d gotten turned on like that were during Deathball, which totally didn’t count. I usually wasn’t the only dude swinging wood out on the field because the pain had our testosterone raging. It was just a thing… that happened… That mostly happened when I was facing off against Zion Salah. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh
I could still hear Simon in the background—ranting about a pay raise and threatening to quit if he had to ‘hold Baby Hulk’s hand through his hetero shit show.’
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.
“You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Suarez. From the moment I first saw you, I wanted this. Wanted you.”
I bristled—mostly because of how she was insulting Zion. Everyone knew I was dumb, but I refused to stand here and let her insult my man. Wait, what? WHAT?!
Relief washed over me to hear Preek chatting with my sister instead of Baltasar’s slutty moans. Although why our PR handler was in her room at this hour was a mystery.
“… and thanks to the resident meatheads calling attention to my arrival, your father interrogated me for close to an hour about why I was using the family jet.” So that was Preek coming in to land last night. Dahlia scoffed. I heard the delicate clink of metal, as if she were seated at the vanity picking out jewelry. “I’m sure you told him you’d come straight from the lab?” she murmured in a taunting tone. The lab? Preek was unusually quiet. When he spoke again, his voice had a threatening edge I’d never heard him use with my sister. “If you tell them what we know, you’ll be in just as much
...more
One that said, “I’m With Stupid.” With an arrow pointing straight down. “Get it?” he excitedly asked. “The arrow’s pointing at your dick, so—” “I get it, B,” I laughed, snatching it from him before pulling it on over my head. “It’s perfect.” Absolutely perfect.
But here I was, feeling some kind of way about the idea of Zion Salah overpowering me. I’m baby…
Daisy scrunched her nose in distaste. “Why are you even marrying a meanie like Auntie Dahlia, Blunty? I’d rather you just be my second daddy instead.” OH, MY GODDD!!!
“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.”
“Is it you being engaged to my sister or that you’re not gay?” he deadpanned. “Because I’m already aware of those problems.”
I want to do this again. With him. “I’m…” I began, unsure where to even start with all the thoughts racing through my brain. “Not gay. I know.” Zion’s voice was so shockingly cold it felt like whiplash. “But thank you for a most enjoyable evening, regardless.”
The worst part was that I desperately wanted to stay. But I knew I’d just end up pathetically crawling back into Zion’s lap, as if that was where I belonged. And he made it crystal clear I don’t.
But the last thing I wanted to do was let a notorious playboy like Baltasar know just how into the situation I was by showering him in aftercare. How into him I am.
“You don’t want Blunty marrying her either,” Daisy stated the obvious, although how she’d figured it out was beyond me. “You want him for yourself. For us.”
I just want to get some ridiculous photos with my unrequited crush. Even though what I’d prefer is a butt-ass-naked dude-oir session.
“I’m not…” he choked out—way more upset than this trash-talk session should have made him. “I’m not just some dumb piece of meat for you to play with.”
“We didn’t have to accept this marriage contract with the Suarez clan.” Baltasar gaped at her in astonishment. “You didn’t?” This is news to me too, B. “No,” she bluntly replied. “We’d already reached an… understanding with your brother, and signed off on the terms of our business partnership. Agreeing to welcome you into our clan was more a show of good faith than a strategic move. After all, Blunt Force…” She chuckled derisively, raising my hackles. “Let’s not forget—you are fourth in line with only marginally impressive powers to speak of.” How dare she?!
“Marrying Baltasar does not give Dahlia rights to the throne, you know.”
“You act as if it were charity to accept Baltasar Suarez as Dahlia’s husband, but she’d be lucky to have him. That man, that entire family, has superior genes—is superior to our clan in every way—and you and Pops know it.”
“But our family knew something they didn’t—something about our kind that could finally help us take back what’s rightfully ours.”
Being told the Salah clan had only agreed to this engagement to be nice had stung like a bitch. It also made me mad as hell—at both families.
