Page 29 of Hero & Villain (Super Serum Billionaires #1)

He drove out into the desert, revving the engine of the ridiculous monster until fifteen minutes later we got where it was dark enough to see the stars, even though Vegas still shone in the distance.

“Light pollution,” he said with a shrug and then started filling plates for both of us. “But the stars are still better than anywhere on the east coast. What do you miss about Boston?”

“Maestro, Toni, Straw, you know, the best things in life. Also, there’s this chocolate shop just a few blocks from my apartment, or where I used to live, it wasn’t really mine…”

I took a big bite of vegetables and chicken off my kebab to keep from saying anything else about Clint and his mother. Seduction. Right. Focus. Maybe I’d just eat. Seductively.

We ate together in awkward silence until he pushed a button and the whole roof became a thin membrane that kept out the cold, but not the stars. I stared up, forgetting about everything other than those brilliant diamonds.

“Free,” I murmured.

“Who’s free, Pinkie?” he asked, leaning back in his seat and looking up.

I put my own seat back without losing sight of those glorious lights.

“The stars are free to enjoy, and no matter how much money you have, you can’t put them in a box with a price tag on them.

Diamonds are cheap imitations of stars, don’t you think?

” I looked at him, and his eyes shone brighter than the stars.

He took my hand, spreading my fingers with his. “Interesting. Despite the resemblance, diamonds are pressurized carbon while stars are still burning. How would you get a diamond to burn?”

I stared at him, and my heart pounded, racing while I stared at him, soft eyes, slight dimple, and those lips that could be so soft and sweet, sweeter than anything else. “Everything will burn if you increase the speed of its molecules fast enough.”

He raised a brow, glancing down at my mouth in a way that made me all hot and melty. “Friction carefully applied might be very conducive.”

“Kiss me.”

He smirked, cocking his head as he brushed his hand over mine, sending off a flock of butterflies in my chest. “Aren’t you still hungry?”

“For you.” This was seductive talk, right? Cringe-awful was synonymous with seduction. Everyone knew that.

He grinned full-out. “Why do I feel like we’re talking cannibalism? Maybe the way you’re gripping your kebab stick. Are you sure you won’t stab me if I kiss you the wrong way?”

“Do you mind being stabbed?”

He laughed and shook his head, eyes dancing. “I don’t mind being stabbed, but think of the slivers. I hate slivers. You’d have to sand your kebabs before you stabbed me with them.”

I rolled my eyes and placed the stick on the box in the back. “Now I’m safe. You can do anything you want with me, and I won’t stab you.”

His eyes flickered with heat as he leaned closer. “Anything I want?” he breathed.

Seduction. This was seduction, only I wasn’t the one doing it.

I nodded, unable to say anything or do anything else. My brain was officially mush as he leaned closer, and closer, slower than death.

When he licked me across the face, from one cheek, over my eyes and forehead, I gasped and stared at him, bewildered as he flicked his tongue and got a thoughtful look.

He said, “I thought glitter would be gritty, but it’s more greasy than gritty.”

“Greasy, gritty, glitter, what in flaming balls of idiocy was that?” I sputtered, wiping his spit off my face with the back of my hand.

He smiled at me, going for innocent, but I knew a diabolical gleam when I saw one. “You said I could do anything I want with you. Not what you had in mind?”

I was going to kill him. If I’d been holding my stick, I definitely would have skewered him. As it was, I grabbed his shirt and yanked him over so I could glare into his eyes. His expression shifted from delighted to dangerous in less than a blink.

His voice was a low growl. “Let me explain, Pinkie. I fought for you, bled for you, and now you’re looking like dessert.

I want to gobble all of you up without leaving a scrap behind.

I’m talking about your ridiculous dress.

I’m going to light it on fire and burn it off you.

Unless you tell me to take you home now. ”

I kissed him hard and hungrily. The dress deserved burning, and if he thought I was dessert, he had no idea how he looked in his fluttery pink shorts.

For a beat I was pressing into him, and then the next thing I knew, he was on my reclined seat over me, his weight sinking into my skin, bones, like a full-body hug. His arms were around me, and then his lips broke from my mouth and moved to my throat while I gasped for air.

He felt so good. I ran my greedy hands through his hair, down his neck, tugging on his collar, probably strangling him, but he didn’t seem to mind, just bit my shoulder. No pain. Just eclipsing pleasure that melted my brain and my spine.

I was his, dessert or whatever else he wanted me for, as long as he didn’t stop.

Everywhere he touched me became fiery butterflies, beating under my skin, trying to fly into him and beat inside him until he combusted and burned for me.

His mouth came back to mine, only it was soft kisses this time, languid like we had nowhere to go, not like at any second something horrible would happen. I tried to kiss him harder, but he held me down, taking his time while I struggled, needing more, faster.

“Easy, Princess Pink,” he murmured with a catch in his voice that sent a trail of lightning through me. I lay beneath him, staring into those shadowed eyes while he bit his lower lip. “You’re going to wreck me completely, you know that?”

I swallowed hard and then smiled. “If you don’t kiss me in the next two seconds and never stop, I will absolutely wreck you, your car, and anything else I can get my hands on.”

His smile was fierce, and then he was kissing me- possessive, hungry, thorough. Like I belonged to him and wouldn’t ever touch anyone else again. Safely trapped beneath his weight, muscles, possession.

I drowned, let go of all control and let him hold the weight of the world for me, trusting him like I never trusted anyone.

And then the box in the basement where I kept the feelings stuffed down, deep, broke open, spilling a memory I hadn’t looked at for a long time.

The slate tile pressed against my cheek while the tips of my black patent Mary Janes rested on the gutter.

“Mom!” I cried for the thousandth time, only she couldn’t answer me. I’d heard her hit the ground. I’d heard her gasp break off. I’d heard the tinkle of slate tiles hitting the ground around her.

Finally, someone four stories below me screamed, an ear-piercing shriek as they found the body.

“Get the ladders! She’s still on the roof! We’re coming for you, Daniela. Hang on.”

My grandfather was the first one to pull me off the roof, his eyes dark with rage even as he smiled. “I’ve got you, Princess. You’re mine now.”

“Princess? Daniela? Hey, Princess.” Dirk’s voice brought me back to the car. I was still lying on the reclined seat under a sea of stars, and him, but I couldn’t feel my limbs, and not in a loss of blood flow kind of way.

He lightly slapped my cheeks. “Breathe. Come on, Glitter Force Cupcake. Breathe, or I’m licking your face with my disgusting spit.”

He leaned forward, and I put my hand on his chest, dragging in lungfuls of air.

“I’ll stab you,” I gasped, still struggling for breath.

He grabbed my face, pressing his forehead against mine. “That’s right. No one puts their spit on you without getting stabbed. Damn straight. Also, are you trying to scare me to death, because…” He sputtered and then rolled off me, back to his seat, and pulled it back into an upright position.

I tried to sit up, but my chest still hurt, too tight, too hard to breathe, like I had chunks of glass lodged in there.

“Where are you going?” I asked as he gripped the steering wheel, veins popping up on his hands and arms like he was considering ripping it off the steering column.

“Crazy. Absolutely insane,” he ground out, shooting me a dark look. “You are killing me.”

I got up a little higher and then winced and pressed my hand against my chest where it hurt.

He cursed and then started the car, taking off in a swirl of dust that blocked out the stars. “I’m taking you to the hospital. Did you have a heart attack? I’ve never seen a panic attack that bad, but it seemed like?—”

“It wasn’t a panic attack.” I cut him off, forcing myself upright, ignoring the throbbing in my chest, the way breath wasn’t working, the way my limbs were still numb. “I was just excited about making out.” I took a few shallow breaths while he shot me a glower.

He opened his mouth to say something scathing, but at the last second he changed his mind and pulled on his bored Boston socialite face. “Sure. I’m still taking you to the hospital. I’d hate you to sue me for the misuse of my prodigious sex appeal. It’s killed people stronger than you, you know.”

I grabbed his arm. Every single one of his muscles was taut.

“How could I sue you if I were dead? You can’t take me to the hospital.

I’m serious. If you do, they’ll check my fingerprints, and word will get back to…

” My throat closed up at the image of my grandfather’s face the first time he’d dislocated my fingers so I understood from both sides, also so that I wasn’t distracted from my duties by my cello.

I had to struggle through a few breaths before I could try for another smile.

“I’m fine. Just take me to Jezebel’s house. She’ll put me on oxygen and anything else I need.”

“You’re fine? Of course you are. Utterly edible, including the greasy glitter. I’d consider it a personal favor if you talked to the therapist.”

I bit my bottom lip until it hurt. I didn’t want to think about therapy tonight after I’d gambled everything on him so carelessly, so stupidly, and won. “Or what? You’ll take me to a hospital if I don’t agree? I’m fine!”

“Or I’ll lick your face again. The tears look delicious mixed with all the glitter.”

Tears? Did I cry? In front of my target? No! I sneered at him, covering the panic with contempt. “I’m getting used to it. I’ll just call you Mr. Maples and get you some treats.”

He tilted his head, raising a brow slightly, still wearing that annoyingly civilized veneer. “And who is Mr. Maples?”

I rubbed my chest where my heart was still being weird. “The sweetest cocker spaniel mutt, but he’s not very bright.” Like me when I forgot about seduction and just wanted to drown in his kiss until my old trauma came back and punctured my lungs.

“You have a dog? How charming.” He was still channeling the bored Bostonian, but his hands weren’t releasing their death grip on the steering wheel. He covered his anger with good manners. How civilized. I hated it.

“It’s the doorman’s, I just walk him sometimes,” I said with my own ice queen impression.

“I suppose you can’t wait to return to Boston so that you can walk Mr. Maples.”

“He’ll be dead by then.” Ouch. The thought of losing Mr. Maples brought new tears to my eyes while my lungs snagged on my sadness. He’d be gone when I got back. Dead. Like my mother.

He covered my fisted hand with his and squeezed until I could breathe again. “I’m sorry about Maples. Death is stupid. It takes the best people and leaves the worst ones behind.”

“Like me? Death left me behind.” My mother meant for us both to die, but I hung on.

Because I was a villain, and villains don’t give up just because it hurts.

And they don’t snivel because they survived.

I pulled my hand out of his and reached back for a box of Greek.

I opened it and studied the contents like we were on a picnic at the beach.

“The dolmades are passable, but the rice is hardly yellow at all. Such a shame.”

“Isn’t it, though?” He put down the gas, driving like he really was Dirk Dagger, adrenaline junkie. So fast, seemingly out of control, but his reflexes were very good.

So much for seduction. I stared at his profile in the reflection of my window and nibbled on stuffed grape leaves until I could breathe normally. My heart still hurt, aching for two things I couldn’t have.

In that moment, more than anything else, I needed him to hold my hand and never let go. But I settled for kebabs instead.