She was free of obligations.
And easy for Law.
Club Haunt was lit up like a motion picture premiere. Strobe lights fanned the sky, and a red carpet covered the sidewalk. Tuxedoed bouncers kept the crowd in line.
The night held excitement, promise, and James Lawless. She didn’t expect commitment; only hoped for emotional intimacy.
A barbarian in a fake fur tunic, horned helmet, and leg wraps met the limo. His mask covered the upper half of his face, and his battle-ax appeared authentic.
“Catherine, it’s Walter Hastings.” The man offered his arm. “I’m Conan for the night.”
Tonight Walter, of the three-piece suits and administrative polish, brought out his inner warrior. She never would have recognized him in the crowd.
Butterflies winged from her stomach into her chest as she entered Haunt. She was returning to a scene of anonymity and abandon. She left her inhibitions at the door.
Tonight Wonder Woman and Captain America would take up where they’d left off. At the far side of midnight, Law would lay her bare.
A live band rocked the warehouse. New VIP lounges bordered the dance floor, offering private conversation. A one-way mirrored deck built high over the buffet gave management a bird’s-eye view of the crowd.
A controlled mob, she thought. Everyone was costumed and out to have a good time. The scene was wild.
Conan the Barbarian directed Wonder Woman toward a cluster of superheroes—all big, tall, powerful men, smiling, shaking hands, posing for photographers, and signing autographs. A few heroes were being interviewed by reporters.
“The Rogues.” Conan identified each player and the costume he wore. “The Incredible Hulk is the last to show. Brody Jones can’t tell time.”
He scanned the room, visibly pleased by the turnout. “Tonight goes beyond party hearty. The money raised at this event will be split among the team’s favorite charities.
“Enjoy,” Conan said as he eased into the mix.
She located Captain America among the heroes at the exact same instant he spotted her. A hundred people separated them, yet Wonder Woman saw only him.
Time slowed to the tick, tick of her heart.
The moment seemed surreal.
He took a step toward her.
And she toward him.
The crowd gave way to their meeting.
They soon stood before each other, lost to the noise and the hustle.
“You made it,” Captain America greeted her.
“You thought I’d back out?”
“I never doubted you’d show. Wonder Woman wants me.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“I have super senses.” He grinned, and his dimples flashed. “I can feel her desire.”
“Feel me now.”
He did. In his own way, in his own time.
There was no hurry in this man to find a private corner and press her to the wall. To kiss her, touch her, excite her. Instead he took it slow.
So slow that by their fifth dance, the physical tension between them had her so wired, she wanted him right there, right then.
He had a way of brushing his body against hers, breathing on her neck, that drove her wild. Each time, her shivers grew to the point she was actually trembling.
Captain America had game.
And he was playing her.
A slow number finally brought them into contact.
She pressed against his heat, so warm herself, they were on fire.
The club atmosphere was an accelerant for sex.
The captain kissed her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose. But never came near her mouth.
His arms wrapped her waist, but not as tightly as she’d have liked. The flex of his biceps proved he wanted to pull her closer, but he’d save close for later.
She sighed and eased back slightly to scan the crowd. “Haunt has a pulse tonight.”
He ran his hand down her arm, pressing his thumb to her wrist. “Your heart’s keeping pace with the club.”
She laid a palm on his chest. “Yours is beating for me.”
A flash of red cape, and Superman flew by. The S fit his chest perfectly. “Big-ass blast,” he stated.
Chewbacca from Star Wars caught the superhero’s shoulder. And Superman scowled. No one tugged on Superman’s cape.
“Risk Kincaid,” Captain America told her. Kincaid’s wife, Jacy, passed next. Her mask was hot pink, feathered, and glittery, like Mardi Gras. Her soft pink jumper had BABY ON BOARD scripted just below her breasts. No wonder Superman soared.
“Risk won the locker-room baby pool,” Captain America told her. “Psycho’s going for second place.”
Men and women making babies brought a warmth to her breast.
They’d found their mates and settled down.
The players wanted families.
Cat couldn’t imagine life without children and a close extended family. She wondered if Captain America would ever stop fighting crime and find someone special.
Batman was the next to greet Wonder Woman. Romeo Bellisaro had lost his wife in the crowd. He swore the mob had swallowed her whole. He was about ready to send up the Bat-Signal to locate her.
A second slow song started, and couples danced so closely, they looked like singles. Wonder Woman went flush against her hero. She let his strength sift through her.
Their bodies fit. He was all muscle, ripped and defined. She rounded his rough edges with her curves.
It was early, only ten thirty, yet Captain America didn’t know how much longer he could hold Wonder Woman in his arms and not take her right there on the dance floor. He could dance her into a dark corner for another dry hump or he could call for his limo and return to the hotel.
He decided on the Richmond Grace.
It was time to get naked.
There was no hesitation from the Amazon Princess. She took his hand willingly, allowing him to lead her to the exit. On his way out, he scanned the couples dancing.
Before the night was over, it looked like the Tasmanian Devil would bed Rapunzel. A flying monkey would do the dirty with a naughty schoolgirl. And the Lone Ranger would capture Marilyn Monroe.
Even the Pillsbury Doughboy was getting some action, his round body rubbing against a female baker. He’d be a crescent roll by morning.
Sex was in the air.
Every cell in Captain America’s body craved Wonder Woman.
He held her hand in the limousine, ran the callused pad of his thumb along her softer inner palm.
He caught her intake of breath, the parting of her lips. Watched the goose bumps rise on her forearms.