Copyright © 2014 Vivi Andrews All rights reserved.
Kim’s pulse slammed into overdrive and her hand shot out before her rarely used survival instincts caught up enough to suggest maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing in the world to punch the superheroes’ version of the bogey man. She probably would have overruled her survival instincts anyway. She’d been fantasizing about hitting him for far too long.
Frost Nightwing. So tall, so dark, and oh so dangerous, but it was the eyes that made him beyond sexy. They were the only pale thing about him, shards of glacial ice leaping out of his face in dizzying contrast to the rich darkness of his complexion. The man had always made her knees wobble–of course, that was when he wasn’t swooping in and screwing up her plans.
Oldest son of the most powerful superhero couple in the world. Rogue superhero hunter. And total asshat commitment-phobe ex-love-of-her-life who’d disappeared like a fucking coward the morning after she’d told him she loved him for the first time.
The one that got away. Who deserved to be beaten to a bloody pulp.
Unfortunately, the punch never landed.
“Hey!” He deflected the blow with such practiced ease she might have been a child having a temper tantrum.
“Asshole,” she growled, lashing out again, this time with her new power. Telekinesis. The great equalizer.
But when she shoved at him, hard enough he should have gone flying back into the brick wall behind him, there was a hollow ringing in her ears and nothing happened. Instead, ice whispered across the back of her neck, right at the base of her skull. “What the hell?”
She flailed out with another TK strike. Nothing. Nearly shrieking with frustration, she threw everything she had into throwing him. He didn’t budge an inch.
No. This wasn’t how this worked. She was super now, goddamn it. After years of being the victim, years of being used as a pawn in superhero games, she was finally powerful. So what the hell was happening with her power? Why was she suddenly so fucking helpless again?
She balled her fists, winding up for another non-TK attack, but Frost was done playing.
“Knock it off.” He caught her wrist and tugged, using her momentum from the attempted punch to swing her around so her back was to his front. His arms wrapped around her, pinning her elbows to her sides and yanking her back to press against a rock hard chest. The whole move took less than a second. The man could move.
Oh mercy, that should not be a turn-on.
But her body remembered him. Remembered how natural it was for him to take control–and make her so damn glad he had.
Heady warmth rushed to pool between her thighs.