Page 22 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes

“We’re here, sweetheart,” Xander chuckled in amusement, placing a cool hand on the nape of my still sweaty neck, instantly settling me. “Time to tuck yourhugeerection away… first, I want to get you stuffed.”

CHAPTER11

XANDER

Fuck, he’s such a big, tasty snack.

I couldn’t stop staring at Butch’s mouth as he sipped his espresso at the bar of Ars and Invenio. The tiny mug looked absolutely ridiculous in his huge mitts, but the way his plush lips skimmed over the ceramic as he took an adorably dainty sip had me swallowing a moan.

This dinner is going to torture me more than him.

Glancing down the polished mahogany bar, I casually took in the scene of one of my favorite haunts. Ars and Invenio had a Roaring 20s vibe that promised glorious excess under the guise of civilized debauchery, and I washere for it.The clientele skewed towards normies of the old money variety—but occasionally, I’d also spot a supe colleague or two of my parents.

Since villains throw money around almost as much as heiresses.

I may not have inherited superpowers, but I’d manifested more than enough villainous bourgeois tendencies to make up for it. There was nothing I loved more than buying the most expensive items on the menu before taking my sweet fucking time enjoying every last drop.

Just like I’ll be taking my time with Butch later.

“Mr. Marin? Your table is ready.”

At the sound of my fake civilian name, I swiveled to blast Chantal with a megawatt smile. The willowy hostess ran the front of the house with an iron fist, but when I’d called the private line earlier to request a last-minute reservation, she made it happen.

The tennis bracelet I sent via courier didn’t hurt.

“Chantal, you look radiant as always,” I cooed, grabbing my scotch and sliding off the stool. I spied her good-natured eye roll as she turned to lead us to a booth in a low-lit corner, but a response of a different flavor quickly caught my attention.

A pulse of power.

I shrewdly assessed the occupants of each table we passed, trying to figure outwhohad emanated the threatening energy. My ability to identify other supes out of uniform wasn’t anywhere near as strong as the other members of my family, but it was enough to sense an impending attack.

Whoever just did that is pissed and powerful as fuck.

“Any important guests tonight?” I casually asked Chantal as she set down our menus. My gaze drifted to her new bracelet—the unspoken message being to spill the tea if she wanted the matching necklace.

“Not according to the books, Mr. Marin,” she smoothly replied, gaze flickering to Butch. “Shall I bring your usual? And for Mr..?”

Another pulse

Who the fuckisit?

“Hawthorne,” Butch replied, his baby blues fixed on Chantal with a colder expression than I thought he was capable of. I also noticed he offered his last name a beat too late—as if my sweet boy was distracted by… jealousy.

Be still my heart.

My dick, really.

“Yes, Chantal, mydatewill have what I’m having,” I brusquely replied, noticing Butch immediately relax as I took over. “Plus a bottle of Moët, since we’re celebrating tonight. That will be all, thank you.”

I knew my brush-off served two purposes—telling our hostess to take a hike and bringing Butch back to baseline. As cute as it was that my hottie himbo had a possessive streak, the idea of himactuallybeing upset made me weirdly unhappy.

“What are we celebrating?” Butch asked, shifting his delicious little glare away from Chantal’s retreating back to bless me with more recognizable, wide-eyed innocence.

He really makes it too easy.

“A big first,” I smirked, already salivating for his reaction. “Baby’s first time sucking dick.”

“Xander!” he hiss-whispered, turning so pink I nearly dragged him beneath the table for an encore performance. “We can’t just…talkabout—”