“I’ll do one last sweep, then we’re done,” I declare with newfound determination.
Priya narrows her eyes. “You said that an hour ago. But fine, one more, then we’re seriously leaving.”
“Promise,” I say, my mind already plotting the path through the stalls.
With a grin, I slip into the crowd, pretending not to have a destination. But I know exactly where I’m headed.
My steps slow as I spot it-the erotic graphic novel booth. Obviously.
Daredevil’s not here in the flesh, so paper and my imagination will have to suffice.
My fingers glide over the glossy illustrated covers. Why aren’t more women into these? Real men are fine, but they can’t compare to a billionaire superhero in a weaponized metal bodysuit.
A sly smile curves my lips as I scan the selection of cheeky titles. “The Incredible Bulk” elicits a chuckle, but it’s not what I’m after today.
There! My breath catches at the sight of familiar red and blue. Lev Gleason’s Daredevil in all his glory-every inch of that suit clinging to muscles honed for power, speed, and raw pleasure. There’s a half-naked woman molded to his body, head thrown back in ecstasy like she’s about to… blast off.
Sexy solo session material: acquired.
At least I know he’ll be waiting for me later, between the pages, primed and ready to go. I wander, flipping through the explicit scenes featuring “me” and my fantasy lover, cheeks heating.
“Escaping the masses?” a deep, velvety voice rumbles behind me.
My heart stutters, then races into a frantic beat. It can’t be. This isn’t possible.
I spin around and freeze in disbelief. There, leaning against the wall, is Daredevil himself-watching me.
It’s him. The real deal.
All lethal grace and coiled power, encased in a distinctive suit of deep red and vibrant blue metal, molded perfectly to every inch of muscle. A body made to lift me up and pin me in place… or crush me without effort. His face is completely obscured behind his iconic red and blue mask, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze raking over me like a physical touch.
He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us in a few steps. My pulse skyrockets as he stops barely a foot away, looming over me, gazing down through the slit in his mask.
“Do I know you?” I somehow find my voice, though it comes out husky and low.
He tilts his head, considering. For a long moment, I don’t think he’s going to respond.
“Do you?” he finally counters in a gravelly tone.
“Don’t toy with me,” I warn, my voice wavering. “I’m in no state for mind games. Who are you, really?”
I stare up at him, my breaths coming quick and shallow.
He dips even closer and I sense the smirk beneath his mask. “Today, I’m just Daredevil.” A pause lingers. “Seems you were having some… impure thoughts about me.”
Caught off guard, my eyes flicker down to the page in front of me. There’s Polly Photon, boldly straddling Death-Defying Devil in his blue and red suit.
Cheeks burning, I shut the comic book.
He takes another step closer until only inches separate us. The heat pouring off his body washes over me, smelling of spice and raw masculinity. My nerves are a live wire, body tingling with hyper-awareness of this stranger. Is this a dream? Has my far-fetched fantasy come to life?
“Listen,” I stammer, “this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve lost my memory. Did we… did something happen between us?”
Silence falls. A silence so fraught with tension I can barely breathe. I feel his eyes on me, seeing all of me while I see nothing. I feel exposed. Vulnerable.
“Something incredible happened between us,” he finally murmurs.
My grip tightens on the book. “But it ended?”
Another silence, fraught and foreboding. My nerves wind tighter with each second.
“You come here to escape, to pretend to be someone else for the day,” he finally says. “Why not pretend with me? Step into Miss Nova’s shoes, just for a moment. Experience the reality of your fantasy.”
I stare up at him, pulse pounding. Jesus, this guy is evasive. “Do you like Miss Nova?”
“More than anyone else in the world,” he replies, voice filled with dark promise.
I want to know if he’s smiling under that mask.
My throat constricts. “What’s so appealing about her?”
“There’s a strength that’s more than just physical in her,” he responds, his voice low and guarded. “She confronts whatever comes her way – never backing down, always thinking on her feet. She can roll with the punches, take things in stride that would crush most people. What captivates me is her spirit. Her beautiful resilience.”
His words hang between us, filled with unspoken meaning. I shake off the strange ache in my chest at his praise, warning bells clamoring in my mind.
“But she was hurt, wasn’t she?” I whisper. “By Daredevil?”
Another unbearable loaded silence.
“Yes.”
The ache in my chest blossoms into real pain. Real pain even though I don’t understand its source. Memories buried deep surface, instinct warning me of impending danger. This man is a threat. He’s inflicted pain before. He will again.
I take a shuddering breath and force the words out. “Why did you hurt me?”
“Because I destroy the good in my life,” he says coarsely. “But I regret it. More than anything.”
The room seems to sway around me. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t trust you.”
“You should.” It’s said without hesitation. His sigh is audible even through the mask. “Do you want me to remove my mask?”
“Yes. No. God, I don’t know. This is freaking me out.”
“I don’t want to distress you. I should leave, Lucy.”
“Wait.” I lift my chin in defiance, though my body trembles. I need proof that this isn’t some twisted hallucination. It might be crazy, but I need to ask him to do this. “Show me what I’ve been missing. Kiss me.”
Time passes with excruciating slowness. Is he going to reject me?
Then, his gloved hands move, raising his mask just enough to expose a tantalizing glimpse of his mouth-sensual lips, shadowed with the rough stubble on a rugged jaw.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.
I do as I’m told and slowly close my eyes, feeling a surge of energy course through me as powerful arms lock around my waist and pull me to him. His tight suit presses against my body.
I’m shaking, actually physically shaking. Full-body rattle.
The darkness only heightens my senses. I hear the slight catch in his breath, then feel the brush of his lips on mine.
I open my mouth. An invitation.
He meets it with fervor, his lips claiming mine in a consuming kiss that steals my breath. Heat ignites within me, a longing spreading from my core.
His lips are heaven, soft and full but masculine and rough at the same time. They mold against mine with a perfect fit.
His rugged stubble scrapes against my skin, sparking an involuntary shiver that zips down my spine. He tastes of honey and mint, laced with an undercurrent of the untamed and the dangerous.
His strong arms wrap around me even tighter and I feel his growing erection press into my abdomen through the costume. No one has ever kissed me like this before.
I slide my hands up his body, feeling every muscle tense under my touch. I don’t give a flying fuck that we are two people in full bodysuits, making an X-rated spectacle of ourselves in the middle of a comic convention.
He groans in response, his kiss becoming more demanding. His grip around me tightens as if he’s trying to restrain himself from giving in to temptation.
“Stop,” he breathes, pulling away from our heated kiss with a shuddering exhale.
I open my eyes, desperation clawing inside me to see beyond that mask. Traces of my bright blue lipstick smear across his captivating mouth.
“I need to leave,” he murmurs. His thumb drags across my lower lip, possessive and demanding.
Panic surges through me. “Will I see you again?” I gasp.