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All characters in this story are 18 years of age and older, and all sexual acts are consensual. If you’ve read this, you get a snickerdoodle.
A sexy but unwise use of grip tape
Something unspoken passed between them as my brother absently plucked at his supersuit. Not like it was throttling his nuts, but more as if just feeling it on his skin was the problem. Maybe that’s why I never see him wearing it. He must be allergic to being 80% more terrifying.
“... align myself with a babe as hot as Dahlia Salah…” I trailed off as Zion dropped his head into his hand and snorted, which only made me more flustered. “So we can make babies and—FU… DGE!”
I froze, unsure if I should pull my suit back on or act as if nothing had happened. Or, pull it off the rest of the way to really give him a show. Where the fuck did that come from?
“Uh, okay…” he mumbled, dutifully obeying in a way that made my dick twitch.
I don’t know what I expected. Maybe an eye roll or for him to call me on my bullshit. What I did not see coming was for Zion to advance on me so fast, I almost shifted into fight mode. “Yeah, well, you can tell your fucking cape chasers that you’re no longer available,” he hissed. His dark brown eyes flickered to their yellow reptilian state as the pupils narrowed to vertical slits. That is freaky as fuck. And kind of hot… Wait, what?
“Please, Z…” His voice unexpectedly cracked, snapping me out of my fantasy. “I-I really don’t like being tied up.” Immediately realizing he wasn’t playing, the protective instincts
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.
I almost scoffed. There was no way Wolfy wanted me to continue popping boners every time Zion accidentally scratched me with one of his sexy lizard claws.
That left me standing in the tunnel, debating whether I should go back the way I came or try to hang out with an angry lizard-man. My whiplashed dick decided it liked the second option best, and even though it was the opposite of what Wolfy wanted me to do, I followed the ‘only head that worked under duress.’
He swallowed hard before barely whispering, “I’m not okay, B.” Me neither. I spoke before I could stop myself. “What can I do to help?” Anything. Zion rolled onto his side to face me before hovering a clawed finger over my heart. “Touching you would help,” he said, and I enthusiastically nodded in agreement. Yes, please.
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?!
“You need food so you can concentrate during your lessons,” I pointedly corrected. “I’ll take care of this, D.” She nodded once in that serious way of hers that made my heart hurt. “Because you take care of what’s yours. Got it. Okay, I’m gonna go get some grub! Tell Blunty about movie night when you find him. And croquet! Theeenks, byeeee…” Then she danced from the room, leaving me to gape as her initial statement caught up with me. “Because you take care of what’s yours.”
I braced for Baltasar’s reply, but instead of making a joke or revealing Daisy’s existence, he expanded in size as Blunt Force broke through. “For exactly the reason he told the press!” he barked. “To spend more time with his family. And anything other than that is no one else’s business but his own.” Holy. Shit. Fuck, that’s hot.
“You did good, B. You always handle interviews well.” The change that came over him was instantaneous. His cheeks pinked and his broad chest puffed out as he gave me a heartbreakingly hopeful smile. “You really think so? All I do is spew soundbites Wolfy preps me with. And if I don’t know what to say, I usually just play dumb, which isn’t hard since, you know, I’m the dumb jock and all.” My vision went red, and when it cleared, I found I’d pinned him against the doorframe. “Don’t ever say that about yourself again,”
The unbridled joy that swept over his face caused a wave of traitorous emotions to bubble up in my throat. Quickly turning toward the locker room, I mumbled, “I’m just… gonna go grab another shirt before—” “I got you some shirts, too.” Fucking, fucking hell, B.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought me anything—at least, something that wasn’t meant to double as a passive-aggressive message. The same went for Daisy. I’d admittedly started dressing her like her preppy cousins in a pointless attempt to help her better fit in with my family. But Baltasar just wants her to be herself.
It was sad that someone being nice to Daisy—and me—was such a foreign concept, my immediate reaction was to shut it down, but this was my survival mode.
“‘Lizard King,’ hmm?” Zion chuckled as he held the shirt open in front of him to read it. “Like Jim Morrison?” “Who?” I frowned at the floor, trying to remember which supe went by that name while out of uniform. His rumbling laugh washed over me like a drug. “It sounds like I need to teach you about classic rock, B. That’s cool.” Zion’s voice turned sultry. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Oh, my goddd…
“And which monster is your favorite from the old B-movies?” Just make something up, Baltasar. “Godzilla,” I replied honestly, like the dummy I was. You’re just handing him ammunition. Zion smiles so broadly, I swear, I heard his jaw crack. “You got a thing for big, handsome lizards, huh?”
Again, he blinked, his expression impassive. “Well, yeah. But I don’t care about every straight guy—only the ones who aren’t really straight. Like you.” I hissed through my teeth, recoiling from the hero as if he’d punched me. “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.”
With a sigh, I took one last look at my reflection in the mirror. I straightened my spine, preparing to spend the next hour with the people I had to be around before joining the people I wanted to be with.
“What are you doing, B?” Zion murmured against my mouth, and for a moment, I worried I’d overstepped again. The mixed signals I’ve been sending him probably don’t help. “I don’t like you being sad,” I replied, which—while not exactly answering his question—was also the truth.
Just like the last time I acted unsure, Zion immediately stopped and pulled away, holding up his hands so he was no longer touching me. His fangs disappeared, and he swallowed hard—his gaze flickering to my neck, looking nervous about what he’d almost done. Is he not able to fully control his ‘beast?’ WHY IS THAT SO HOT?! “Please… don’t stop. I want it.” The whimper that followed was the most humiliating sound I’d ever made, but I no longer gave any fucks. “I need…”
“Is it you being engaged to my sister or that you’re not gay?” he deadpanned. “Because I’m already aware of those problems.”
“It is! I mean, I am,” I stuttered, knowing I was beet red and getting redder. After more silence followed, I sighed, knowing I’d never hear the end of this. “I’ll show you the problem, but only if… if you...” If you promise not to laugh at me. To my surprise, his finger was suddenly under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I promise, I won’t laugh at you,” he solemnly spoke, as serious as I’d ever seen him. “Show me what’s going on, beautiful, so I can help.”
“I saw it when I stopped at Tom, Dick & Harry’s, and then… after our fight earlier, I randomly decided to…” I cringed, because I’d now made this nightmare situation worse by referencing ‘our fight’—as if we were some sort of couple. This would probably be easier if we were. Then he’d be used to my shit. “... you decided to make your dick look like mine,” Zion seamlessly completed my sentence, which seemed like a very coupley thing to do. He’s already used to my shit, apparently.
The Godzilla movie was roaring in the background, but the last thing I wanted to do was wake up Daisy—or the entire house—with my moans. So I did the only logical thing. I sunk my teeth into Zion’s neck. “Fuuuuck,” he choked out, arching beneath me—every delicious muscle straining with effort—as he joined me in release.
But I’d learned early on to never let another supe see you sweat. Even your own family. Especially your own family.
Baltasar clearly struggled with articulation. I’d started to suspect the villain was often saying no—or I don’t know—when he really meant he needed extra time to process. We need to get this man a safe word.
I rolled my eyes but reached for him, pulling him closer. “Z, I don’t like men.” When his expression started to shutter, I quickly elaborated. “Even now, I don’t think another dude could turn my head. But I want you so bad, it aches.” He released a shuddering breath before brushing his lips over mine. “Why do you think that is?” “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But the… lizard thing sure doesn’t hurt.”
Zion cocked his head as he removed the rest of his clothes—way more gracefully than I had. “And how do I make you feel, B?” Here we go. I blew out a slow breath. “Like… prey.”
This was, without a doubt, the gayest thing I’d ever done, but I couldn’t care less.
It took all my self-control to not tackle this fool to the grimy ice cream shop floor and kiss every hard inch of him. Because I totally lurve him. Goddamnit.
Suddenly, I remembered Butch had only been with women before Xander. “How did you know Xanny was the one for you? Especially since all you wanted was pussy before him?” The hero known as Captain Masculine blushed so deeply that I thought he might immediately take flight, never to be heard from again. Is that what I look like when Zion makes me flustered?
Wolfy’s going to murder someone.
Simon’s going to murder everyone.
“You need to understand, if I was forced to choose, I would choose you, Zion. Every fucking time.” “Jesus, Baltasar,” he huffed, his breath tickling my lips as he dropped his forehead against mine. “Just when I think I can’t fall in love with you more, you pull some smooth shit like this. Damn.”
Like a tasty treat. He stiffened before raising his head and gazing at me in horror. “What?! Why… why the fuck would I taste and smell like a snickerdoodle?” I deposited him on the sloped rocks before climbing out to join him. “What’s wrong with snickerdoodles?” I teased, greatly enjoying how riled up he was. “They’re my favorite.”
Sure, if two heirs married, they typically combined their powerful houses. But no way in hell would a firstborn simply fall in line to another leader without a fight. Even to a supposedly benevolent ruler like Wolfgang. And especially not to a tyrant like Simon.
“What are you talking about, Balty? You kicked ass!” Dre laughed. “We got that shady lady on lock, thanks to you.” “What are you talking about?” I sputtered, cupping my hand over my mouth to muffle my voice. “I didn’t get her to say anything about Argentina. She denied it all.” Gabe took over again. “Yeah, but the minute you mentioned Argentina, her mind went to Argentina—to the cave Doc’s working on. She’s been there, Balty. Tempest knows about the paintings and our history.” Well, shit.
replied. “Thank you for delivering dirt on your family. Our bloodthirsty leader will be most pleased.” “Wolfgang?” Zion asked, although his grin told me he knew the answer to that. With eerily similar cackles, the twins hung up, leaving me with nothing else to do but stare down at the photograph to avoid meeting Zion’s gaze.
“You look so fucking pretty, Baltasar.” My name on Zion’s wicked tongue made me shudder as we continued our path. “My pretty princess.” “Fuck off,” I croaked, even though I was so horny I could barely see straight. “I’m no one’s princess.”
And as angry as I am for how your parents treated you—tortured you—I’m even more pissed off that they hid how powerful half-shifting is.” He snapped his gaze to me. “What do you mean?” I fucking knew it. “Half-shifting is a way to have the best of both worlds,”
“We need to hitch a ride to this lab, B.” Baltasar nodded. “We do. Because what I smelled in that shop…” He leaned across the console and inhaled deeply before meeting my gaze. “It reminded me of you.”
Reaching out a shaking hand, I lightly trailed the back of my knuckles over his cheek, sharply inhaling as a jolt of electricity shot down my arm. Fuck… it feels so real… Baltasar’s pretty amber eyes fluttered open, and I almost wept with how perfectly he scowled at me. “What’s this shit?” he grumbled, his voice raspy from sleep. “You gonna haunt me now? Nope. No fucking thank you. I’m closing my eyes and when I open them again, it better be morning, because I have too much to do tomorrow to be tired. So kindly fuck off ghost-Zion. I need my goddamn beauty sleep—”
I huffed and shook my head. “Well, that explains some things… I am glad to know I’m not actually dead.” When Baltasar sharply inhaled—triggered by my words—I pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his traitorously trembling lips. “I hope you know I would haunt you, Suarez. This bond we have? It’s not the kind of thing someone can break with a snap of their fingers.”
He opened his eyes and smirked, effortlessly reading the subtext. “I need you too, you big lizard. And I’m glad you didn’t die on me. I would’ve hated to have to kill you.”
Xander figured out that my sudden lizard-like appearance was from swimming in the polluted water—not from our inventus bond. Even though that pond held a lot of good memories, my man didn’t want me to also end up dependent on the serum.
