Page 51 of All Superheroes Need PR

He’s staring at me, an utterly indecipherable look in his eyes, and all but whispers, “My rules.”

I nod again.

“Whose rules do you like obeying, Nessa? Use your words.”

“Your rules,” I whisper, lust tittering through me in a way that I should find scary. His voice, his commands, ignite a side of me I always knew existed but have never explored.

“The whole thing. Tell me.”

“I like obeying your rules.”

“Like a good girl.”

“Your good girl,” I whisper.

“Fuck.” He looks me over and shakes his head. “Didn’t stand a chance, did I?” He reaches up and scratches his chest—specifically the mark covering his left pec that looks like it’s gotten darker in the past minutes.

My eyebrows pull together, and I remember that I have hands and know how to use them. I point at his chest with one finger. “Are you sure you’re okay? That mark on your chest looks pretty gnarly ...”

“Fine. Just ...” He scratches it again and turns away from me, going to his phone, which he abandoned on the floor last night, and picking it up. “You like Italian food?”

I nod, but he doesn’t even see. He’s already out the door making a call. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Seven p.m.?”

“Yeah, sure. Are you going somewhere in the meantime?”

“Got somewhere to be first. But I’ll be back to pick you up. Sharp. Shit,” I think I hear him mutter as he pounds down the stairs, making one hell of a racket. “Need a car.”

“A car?” I shout after him, still sitting there where he left me. “You need pants!”

Chapter SixteenRoland

Dr. Larsen is being her usual self, and while I’d ordinarily find it unpleasant, I find it particularly unpleasant in this moment. I glare at Dr. Larsen, hating how chipper she’s being about this.

“Fascinating stuff. You’re saying the tattoo appeared first last week and that today it got darker?” She’s prodding at the skin on my left pec, and when she’s finished, she kicks off on her rolling stool, making her way to her computer in this office that’s also a lab that’s also an exam room.

“It’s not a tattoo, but yes.”

“And when it first appeared, did you feel it?”

“A little.”

“What did it feel like?”

“Itching.”

She shoves her glasses up onto her forehead. Her salt-and-pepper bangs flop back to brush her eyebrows as she shakes her head and gives me her best impersonation of a glare. It’s not particularly threatening. “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not.” I am. I’m thinking about the fact that I spoke another language during sex. I’d said words I’d never heard before but knewwhat they meant.I want to ravage you. I’d have told her I loved her in that same tongue, but there’s no word forlovein that language.

“You are. Why won’t you tell me?” She cocks her head and narrows her eyes, and this look feels much more sinister because she’s thinking and she’s smart.

I try to distract her. “I got two more today on either rib.” Where Nessa held on to me. “They look identical.”

“Really?” Successfully distracted, Dr. Larsen ducks her head and swivels back over to me, poking my left rib until I squirm. “Incredible. And you’re sure that these markings appeared hereafterthey appeared on your chest?”

“Yeah.”

“And they don’t cause you any pain?”