Biting Oz: Biting Love, Book 5 (46 page)

“Oh,
yes.
Yes, whatever you’re going to do just
do
it already.”

She could resist this bad boy…if he wasn’t so darned good at it.

Superlovin’

© 2012 Vivi Andrews

A
Midnight Justice
Story

Darla Powers, a.k.a. DynaGirl, is the Jessica Rabbit of crime fighters, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy finding a date. When her latest ex opines she’s not helpless enough to make him feel manly, she flies off to take out her romantic frustrations on a villain dumb enough to pick tonight to break into a secret government vault.

Lucien Wroth’s father may be a famous supervillain, but Lucien doesn’t see himself as a bad guy. Just one determined to free his baby sister from a supercriminal’s clutches. He’s this close to getting his hands on a vital set of schematics when one sultry superheroine catches him elbow-deep in a top-secret safe.

Darla is horrified when Lucien’s pretty face—and bulging muscles—distract her enough to let him get away. No one escapes DynaGirl. But somewhere along the way to getting revenge for her public humiliation, she and Lucien become uneasy allies…resisting an all-too-easy attraction. Suddenly she suspects the perfect man for a good girl just might be a very bad boy.

Warning: This book contains heroes, villains, mind-games, epic battles, bustiers, leather, and an infamous “Women of the Cape”
Maxim
photo spread.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Superlovin’:

“You’ll never…escape,” she declared breathlessly, looking rather adorably determined laid out flat on the cement with rubble in her hair.

He would’ve laughed if he could spare the oxygen. “You don’t know how to…admit defeat, do you?” He couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. Deluded though it may be.

“What makes you…think I’m…defeated?”

“The inability to get a full sentence out without gulping for air is a tell, sweetheart,” he grunted, barely getting the sentence out himself without taking a gulp.

“I’d like to see you fly across the city twice in an hour, one of those times carrying a two-ton delinquent.”

He arched a brow. “I’m a big boy, but I’m not quite that big, princess.”

Her eyes narrowed at the suggestive lilt in his voice, pretty mouth pursing. “I was talking about the weight of your ego.”

“Then you must be constantly exhausted. How do you manage to lift yours, even with the superstrength?”

She made a face at him. The darling of the press, always poised and perfect, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. Which, perversely, just made him want to kiss her.

Not a bad idea, actually.

He needed something to distract her at the right moment, and nothing was likely to unsettle the Powers Princess more than one of the unwashed masses daring to lay his lips on her. And, yeah, he was a guy, so he’d pretty much wanted to lay one on her since she’d posed for
Maxim
’s Women of the Cape issue. He’d dreamt about that magazine—dark, steamy, grinding, Technicolor dreams with Miss Goody Two Shoes as their very naughty star. Those pillowy lips were an open invitation, far too wicked for someone so sanctimoniously pure.

Sadly, DynaGirl didn’t seem to be in the mood to play.

“What did you take?” she demanded. The very proper Miss Powers was like a freaking terrier when she set her mind to something. She shoved hard on his shoulder, rolling them over so she knelt straddling his stomach. He let her be on top. For now. Her gaze flicked down his body, searching for a spot he could’ve stashed the papers. “What did you go back for?”

Lucien kept half an ear out for the sound of the next train and conjured up a lazy grin. He let his gaze linger on the way the dark, stretchy fabric of her supersuit cupped the curve of her breasts. “Would you like to frisk me? Cuz I know I’d like it.”

“Knock it off. You’re caught. Give it up.”

“I’m caught, am I? How are you planning to get me back to that lovely holding cell? Flying didn’t work out so well for you last time.”

She reached to the belt on her hip, pulled out a phone, swiped a thumb across the touchpad without looking and held it up to her ear with a smugly triumphant smirk. A smirk which faded as she pulled it away from her ear to glare at the uncooperative device.

“No service?” he purred.

Thank God for the crappy reception of subway tunnels. His abilities were too far blown to handle the cavalry right now.

“I’ll fly you there if I have to,” DynaGirl declared, but the first waver of doubt edged her tone.

Supers could do superhuman things—hence the name—but there was only so far they could push themselves before they crashed with a power hangover that would bring the gods to their knees. Lucien was inches from his own breaking point and, from the tremor in her voice, it sounded like his tenacious little sex kitten of a nemesis was right there with him.

Which meant she was vulnerable. He just needed one more sprint. He could last a few more seconds before his brain exploded into white-hot agony. He had to. For Mirabelle.

He heard the distant electrical whine of a train coming down the tracks. Three minutes, give or take…

Lucien let the icy-hot pain starting to spike in his temples show on his face. “I could come quietly,” he said, making his voice tight with strain. “For a price.”

“I don’t negotiate with supervillains.”

“Not even for my surrender? My
complete
surrender.”

Interest lit her up-tilted emerald eyes, but her jaw remained clenched in an unyielding line. “No deals. I won’t bribe you to play nice when you’ve already lost.”

“But all I wanted was a kiss.”

She went motionless above him, as if she’d forgotten the need to breathe.

“One little kiss,” he purred. “And I’ll go meekly to my jail cell. No tricks. No trouble.”

He couldn’t read her expression. Something odd and almost hopeful colored the suspicion in her gaze. She hesitated. The train rattled closer. Her fingers eased their death grip on his hair.

“Why?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted a shot at the great Darla Powers. Who hasn’t? That
Maxim
spread changed my life.”

Her eyes darkened. “That damn magazine—”

“Hey, don’t damn that magazine. I could compose sonnets to that magazine. Especially your issue. I think you single-handedly launched a generation of twelve-year-old boys into puberty with that spread.” The picture had become a cultural icon. Darla Powers, the super answer to Marilyn Monroe. “Tell me you still have the bustier and I’ll die happy.”

She blushed. “That is none of your business.”

Dear God, she still has it.
Unwholesome interest stirred below Lucien’s belt. He’d been joking, but now he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Her incredible figure overflowing the snug black lace with a shimmering red D curled under one breast in a parody of her suit. Maybe she still wore it. Maybe she put it on for the schmuck boyfriend who’d let her walk out on their date. Jealousy gave his gut an ugly twist, but he ignored it. She wasn’t with her schmuck boyfriend now.

“One kiss,” he said, the words coming out as more of a demand than he’d intended, his voice so dark and hungry he barely recognized it. “One kiss and I’ll do whatever you want.”

The words were supposed to be a lie, but at the moment he almost believed them himself. Darla Powers was a woman who could own a man’s soul if she put her mind to it. If she could let herself be that bad…

She leaned over him, and he sank his hand into the curls at the base of her skull. “C’mon, princess,” he coaxed, his gaze locked on her pillowy lips. “Even good girls get to be bad sometimes.”

She went rigid in his arms. “No. We don’t.”

The train was nearly there now.
Ten seconds…
Darla began to resist his hold, but Lucien had run out of time for persuasion.
Now or never
.

He sat up and twisted abruptly, using a pulse of superspeed to get her sprawled on her back before she realized negotiations were over. He caught her startled gasp on his lips.

The kiss was a sneak attack—quick and fierce and designed to startle and unsettle her. It wasn’t supposed to sear across his nerve endings with unexpected heat. He wasn’t supposed to be tempted to fall into the taste of her and abandon his will to fight. Soft, warm, luscious—the definition of a dangerous woman.

Her hands fell away from his hair, shoving at his shoulders without any real strength as she made the most deliciously wanton noise in her throat.

In a different world, he would stay here and finish what they’d started, explore this incendiary chemistry, coax that sound from her again and again. But she was still a hero and he’d long since been cast in the villain role. If he wanted any future for his sister, he couldn’t waste time playing doctor with DynaGirl.

The first train car thundered into the abandoned station.

He threw himself off her. “Sorry, princess.” The last of his reserves went into a surge of superspeed as he leapt onto the tracks and sprinted down the tunnel in front of the engine. The racing train sealed the tunnel entrance behind him before DynaGirl could gather herself to follow.

He didn’t have time to thrill at the victory of escape. He was too busy trying to maintain his speed until he reached the next platform so he didn’t end up a bloody smear on the tracks.

Lucien ran, his head slowly exploding, the stolen papers crinkling in his pocket with the sound of success, Darla’s taste still sweet on his lips.

Biting Oz

Mary Hughes

Real vampires do musicals.

Biting Love, Book 5

Gunter Marie “Junior” Stieg is stuck selling sausage for her folks in small-town Meiers Corners. Until one day she’s offered a way out—the chance to play pit orchestra for a musical headed for Broadway:
Oz, Wonderful Oz
.
 

But someone is threatening the show’s young star. To save the production, Junior must join forces with the star’s dark, secretive bodyguard, whose sapphire eyes and lyrical Welsh accent thrill her. And whose hard, muscular body sets fire to her passions.

Fierce as a warrior, enigmatic as a druid, Glynn Rhys-Jenkins has searched eight hundred years for a home. Junior’s get-out-of-Dodge attitude burns him, but everything else about her inflames him, from her petite body and sharp mind to what she can do with her hip-length braid.

Then a sensuous, insidious evil threatens not only the show, but the very foundations of Meiers Corners. To fight it, Junior and Glynn must face the truth about themselves—and the true meaning of love and home.

Warning: Cue the music, click your heels together, make a wish and get ready for one steamy vampire romance. Contains biting, multiple climaxes, embarrassing innuendos, ka-click/ka-
ching
violence, sausage wars and—
shudder
—pistachio fluff.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Biting Oz

Copyright © 2012 by Mary Hughes

ISBN: 978-1-60928-958-4

Edited by Christa Desir

Cover by Kanaxa

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: August 2012

www.samhainpublishing.com