Valentine’s Day Hero

Christa Tomlinson

Torlina Press

Valentine’s Day Hero

Copyright © March 2020 Christa Tomlinson

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

Cover Design: Christa Tomlinson

Published by

Torlina Press

This book is a work of fiction. References might be made to existing events or locations, but all names, characters and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is coincidental. All trademarked names are the property of their respective owners and no ownership claims are intended by the author.

Warning

This book contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language that may be offensive to some readers. It is intended for adults as defined by the laws in your country. Please take care to store this story away from under-age readers.

Table of Contents

Valentine’s Day Hero

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Author Note

Excerpt from Blaze

More by Christa Tomlinson

Chapter 1

CRIMSON FORCE FLEW over downtown, the air rushing over him icy and sharp with winter’s bite. From his bird’s eye view, his super-vision picked up the salt on the streets coating the pavement in a dull white film. Leftover snow from last week’s winter storm, cast aside by plow trucks, had hardened into an ugly gray slush piled up against the curb. These days, downtown wasn’t as busy as it had been the past few months. Many people were at home, enjoying the return to a normal life’s pace after the frenetic energy of Christmas and New Year.

Banking left, Force flew toward the outer edge of the city to do one final sweep before returning home. He spotted a car going too fast down a steep, icy hill. As the car approached the intersection, the light changed to red, while the pedestrian signal flashed to white. But the car didn’t stop, it kept going, still too fast, and turning slightly sideways as it began to slip on the ice.

A woman stepped into the crosswalk, her right hand clasped with a little girl’s, her left hand holding a cell phone. Her head was down, looking at the phone screen. She didn’t see the out of control car headed straight for them.

With a sudden burst of speed, Force rocketed toward the sliding car. He landed in front of it, with barely a body-length’s of space between it and the woman and child. Hands on the hood, booted feet digging into the icy asphalt to find purchase, Force brought the car to a stop. A teen girl sat behind the wheel, her eyes wide with shock and fright. Once she realized the danger was over, she slumped forward, her head thumping against the steering wheel as Force lifted the car to the side of the road.

“Put on your emergency break and turn off the engine,” he directed kindly but firmly.

The girl raised her head and shakily nodded before following his instructions.

With the car secured, Force turned to the woman. Her eyes were as wide as the teen’s, and she had a death grip on her daughter’s hand. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

The woman pressed a hand to her heart for a moment before she nodded. “Yes. Thank you so much Crimson Force.”

Before Force could respond, the young driver tumbled out of the car, slipping on the ice in her haste to reach them.

“I’m so sorry! The hill didn’t seem that steep, but when I hit the ice I started to slide. I panicked and slammed on the breaks but I couldn’t stop!”

Force wasn’t sure how the woman would take the teen’s apology. Road accidents often made people snappish toward the one who’d caused it. He tensed, ready to step in if necessary. The woman closed her eyes, dragging in a deep breath. She bent to kiss her daughter’s head, then straightened and opened her eyes to look at the teen.

“You gave us quite a scare. But thankfully, Crimson Force was here to help. In the future, please be extra careful driving on winter roads as the next time you and anyone involved might not be so lucky.” She put a gentle hand on the girl’s arm. “And I’ll be sure to watch the road instead of my phone when walking.”

“I will,” the girl replied with several emphatic nods. “I promise.”

Force was pleased to see the spirit of forgiveness alive and well between two strangers with an unfortunate meeting. A little voice piped up near his knees.

“Wow, it’s Crimson Force!”

He smiled at the child and bent down to her level. She was bundled up in a cherry red coat, black mittens, and a red hat with a big, pink pom-pom on top.

“Hello. You were very brave just now.”

“Thank you! I’m five so I’m not afraid of lots of things.”

She held up a hand to indicate her age. Force had to assume all four fingers were raised along with her thumb since they were hidden inside her mittens. “Five is a very brave age. I’m counting on you to help keep your mother safe.”

“Okay!”

Force straightened to shake the woman’s hand as she thanked him a final time. They walked away, the little girl tripping along behind her mother, looking back over her shoulder to wave a mittened hand at Force. Once they’d crossed the street, Force moved to check on the driver again.

“Are you going to be all right?”

“I don’t think I can do anymore driving today. But I texted my big sister and she’s on her way to pick me up.”

“Good. You take care.”

“Thank you for being there, Crimson Force. You’re the best.”

Force acknowledged her gratitude with a nod before he flew up and away, his cape rippling behind him. He was happy he’d been able to avert a tragedy. But his happiness was short-lived. As he flew, his thoughts turned to one of his most dangerous foes: Professor Spite.

The villain had escaped capture after his last attack on the city. Force took it personally that he hadn’t been able to put the man behind bars. Spite had planted a bomb in the center of the mall during the busy holiday shopping season. Thanks to Spite’s propensity for sending out a video gloating over his nefarious plans, Force had arrived in time to find the bomb and fly it high above the city before it exploded. It discharged harmlessly in the upper atmosphere, and hundreds of lives had been saved as a result. Unfortunately, Spite had escaped, and was free to come back and do the same thing again whenever he wanted.

The choice over whether to pursue Professor Spite or save the people at the mall had been a no-brainer. Still, it grated on Force’s sense of justice that Spite roamed free after his crimes. His fists tightened with determination as he flew. He would find and defeat Professor Spite before he had the chance to put any more lives at risk.

∞∞∞

AIDEN SHAW SAT in a dark room. The only light source came from the moon shining through dusty, unadorned windows. It was icy cold in the room, his breath fogging in the air. He could have hacked the building’s HVAC system and turned on the heat. But he didn’t want to leave too big of a thermal signature in an office building that was supposed to be unoccupied while under construction. Aiden was willing to suffer the cold in order to do important work that required privacy and rotating undisclosed locations.

He’d bundled up tonight in order to combat the cold while he worked. His black parka was thick and filled with warm down, the hood lined with faux fur. The thermal underwear beneath his clothes helped retain his body heat, thick socks and heavy boots kept his feet from turning into icicles, and warming gloves with tech finger pads on his hands let him type as comfortably as if he were at home in front of the fireplace.

The laptop monitor in front of him glowed blue as columns of numbers flashed on the screen. Aiden sneered as he took in the numbers. Millions. Millions of dollars belonging to one person, while families suffered, scrapping together pennies to survive. If these millionaires didn’t want to voluntarily share their wealth, then he would share it for them.

His gloved fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed, transferring money from bloated bank accounts, to accounts so frail they were on the verge of collapse. Ten thousand dollars each to ten different families. An amount that could change the lives of those who received it. Once deposited there was no way to track the money’s origin. He wiped clean every path that could lead back to him or the withdrawal account, removing all digital footprints, and leaving no trace of his activity. The ten grand might as well have arrived by magic.

With the funds deposited, Aiden had one more thing to do before he could go back to his warm apartment. He opened a dialogue box to a secure phone line and started entering a message he’d sent many times before. Across wireless networks, his typed words became a robotic voice speaking to whatever human or voice mail connected on the other end.

You have been visited by the Shadow Tech. Ten thousand dollars has been deposited into your bank account. The money is yours free and clear. Use it as you see fit to better your life. Do not attempt to save this message. It will instantly delete after playing. Goodbye.

The message sent, he closed the dialogue box, ending the untraceable call. Aiden leaned back in his chair. In the cyber world, he was known only as the Shadow Tech. There were plenty who called his activities criminal and saw him as a villain. Others celebrated him and called him a hero. Truthfully, he didn’t care about the hate or adulation. He simply wanted to use his skills to help people survive in this world. Regardless of whether that made him a hero or a villain, Aiden would continue merrily robbing the rich to give to the poor for as long as he was able.

∞∞∞

HOURS AFTER THE end of his patrol, Tristan was home in bed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t sleep. His body was tired, but his mind spun with recriminations that he hadn’t been fast enough to stop the bomb and catch Professor Spite, wondering what he could have done different and trying to predict where the villain would pop up next.

Rather than aimlessly tossing and turning until the morning, he decided to put his insomnia to good use. He got up and dressed in one of his hero suits, this one black with a red logo to help him blend into the night sky, and left his house for an after-midnight patrol. As he silently glided over the city, he remained on the lookout for any criminal activity, but his main purpose was scanning for signs of Professor Spite. If his men were scoping out a new place to attack, he would spot them and put a stop to it. But after an hour of flying over the sleeping city, he saw nothing.

Momentarily defeated, Force floated down onto the rooftop of an under-construction building. He stood on the edge, the wind sending his cape swirling around him. From here he could see the lights of the city square, still bright even at this hour. It was a quiet, peaceful moment, the only noise the occasional sound of a vehicle passing by on the street below. But that quiet was broken when the roof access door opened behind him, stiff new hinges moving with a metallic squeak. Force quickly spun around, surprised and curious but not alarmed. A man dressed in all black emerged from the stairwell. Even with his hood up, and the top half of his face hidden behind a black domino mask, Force knew who it was.

“Aiden Shaw.”

At the sound of Force’s voice, the man stopped and looked across the rooftop to where Force stood. A familiar grin confirmed he was correct as to the man’s identity.

“Crimson Force. Out for a late-night stroll?”

Force folded his arms across his chest, floating across the rooftop to land in front of Aiden, blocking his path in case he tried to take off. “I take it you’re up to your usual criminal activities,” he said in stern disapproval.

“You mean redistributing wealth from the obscenely rich to those who could truly use it?”

“No. That’s not what I meant. Stealing is a crime.”

“Spare me your lecture,” Aiden cut in. “I’ve heard it all before.

That was true. They’d had a conversation about Aiden’s chosen path several times in fact, and it led to an unsatisfactory conclusion each time.

“You know why I’m here, but what are you doing up here so late at night? Doesn’t the great Crimson Force do his good deeds during the day when everyone can see them?”

Force’s lips thinned at the dig. But he didn’t address it, choosing only to answer Aiden’s first question. “For the last few weeks, I haven’t been able to sleep, so I’ve been flying extra patrols to make good use of my time.”

Aiden’s piercing blue eyes narrowed behind the domino mask while he looked Tristan over in silent study. Whatever he saw caused a smirk to curl full lips softly gleaming in the moonlight. Not that Force noticed or cared about Aiden’s shiny lips.

“Does your insomnia have to do with the fact that Professor Spite got away again?”

That question snapped his attention away from the fresh scent of peppermint Chapstick teasing his nose. “Yes,” Force bit out from between clenched teeth. He hated to admit to his failure.

“Chill, man. The city is grateful that you were able to stop a bomb from going off in a crowded mall. Every one of those people whose lives would have been cut short are grateful. Take the win.”

Tristan relaxed his stance slightly. “Are you saying something kind to me?”

Aiden laughed. “Don’t count on it happening again anytime soon. So...” He sauntered forward, closing the small gap between them. “You’re having trouble sleeping. I remember the last time you got like this. And what you needed to finally get some rest.”

Tristan stiffened again. He couldn’t look down at Aiden as they were the same height, but his shoulders snapped back and his spine locked straight.

“Do you need that tonight?”

Aiden’s eyes burned into Force’s after he asked the question. Force wanted to say no. But more than that, he wanted to find respite from the turmoil keeping him awake at night. And he knew Aiden would give it to him.

“The door at my place will be open for the next three hours,” he said.

Force turned and flew off without another word. As he soared over the city, headed for home, cold air rushed over his body. But his blood pumped hot with anticipation for what was to come.

Chapter 2

AIDEN DROVE DOWN QUIET, empty streets to park in Tristan’s neighborhood of modest brick duplexes. It was a nice area, the street lit with carriage lights and black iron lamp posts. Nearly everyone on the block had decorated for the upcoming Valentine’s Day holiday. Heart-shaped wreaths of shiny red tinsel or pink roses graced the front doors. There was still some snow on the corners of porches and in patches in the grass. But the sidewalks and porch stairs had been safely shoveled and salted.

Carrying a small black bag, he walked up to Tristan’s house, noting that it too had a door ornament - an artfully weathered white wooden heart with cupids and hearts painted on it - before going around to the back entrance. As expected, it was unlocked. Aiden stepped inside, then closed and locked the door behind him. He made his way to the bedroom, easily moving through the dark house. He’d been here many times before and knew exactly where he was going.

In the bedroom, he found Tristan sitting up in bed, remote in hand. A sports recap was playing on the TV. Tristan shut it off when Aiden appeared in the doorway, leaving the room lit only by the glow of a small lamp on the nightstand.

“Did you lock the door?”

“No, I left it open so you’d get robbed in the middle of the night.”

An annoyed frown briefly flashed over Tristan’s face.

“Do you have to start off with the smart mouth comments?”

Aiden shrugged. He was the way that he was. Tristan knew that, had known it for years. He took off his coat and tossed it over the bench at the foot of the bed. Then he stood there and stared down at the bare-chested man in front of him. “So. You can’t sleep.”

“No.”

“And you want me to help you.” It wasn’t a question but he expected a response.

Tristan arched a dark brow. “I left the door open for you, didn’t I?”

That wasn’t enough of an answer for Aiden. Something in him wanted to hear Tristan say the words aloud. He waited, silently refusing to move or speak until he got what he wanted.

“Yes, I want you to help me,” Tristan finally said.

“You remember the rules?”

“Yes. I do what you say. Unless it’s something I don’t like and I tell you.”

Aiden nodded. “Good.” He knew Tristan hated that they continued to come together like this. The hero despised the fact that on occasion, he succumbed to his dark need to be dominated in bed by Aiden, a man he deemed a criminal. The feeling was mutual. For his part, Aiden hated that after all their arguments and opposing viewpoints, he was still so goddamn attracted to Tristan.

As much as he pretended not to be affected by it, the truth was, he loved Tristan’s body. The hero was tall and muscular, with skin tanned gold from the sun, a jawline so perfect it could have been chiseled by a master Greek sculptor, and full, sensuous lips. He knew that Tristan’s light brown hair was as soft and cool as silk from multiple occasions running his fingers through it. And long, dark lashes framed gray eyes that could be as soft rain clouds or as hard as steel, depending on the hero’s mood. Aiden even liked the way Tristan looked in his skin tight hero suit, although the extreme goodness it represented made his teeth itch.

On nights like tonight, Aiden gave in to his attraction, using that gorgeous body, and letting Tristan use his for some of the most amazing orgasms he’d ever had. And now, it was time to get the night started. Aiden strolled over to the side of the bed and set the bag he’d brought on the nightstand.

TRISTAN TURNED HIS head when Aiden reached out and cupped his cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle after the slightly antagonistic mood he’d arrived in. He looked up at the other man, waiting for his next move. Things between them had changed so much over the years, and sometimes Tristan didn’t know how to react to him or what to expect. Aiden dropped his hand.

“Lie down.”

Tristan scooted down on the mattress to lay back against the pillows, watching as Aiden stripped. His torso was revealed first, lean and ripped, with golden blond hair lightly furring his tanned chest, trailing down between the ridges of his abs and disappearing into his waistband. The light glinted off the blond hair on his forearms and highlighted the multitude of tattoos decorating his biceps. When he thumbed open the button to his jeans, Tristan held his breath, waiting...

Yes. As he often did, Aiden had come to him with nothing beneath his jeans. He unzipped slowly, each tic of the zipper giving him a glimpse of glistening blond pubic curls and finally the deep pink tip of Aiden’s semi-hard shaft. He stood there for several heartbeats, drawing it out, before he shoved his jeans all the way off. Tristan’s own cock began to fill as he took the other man in, long and lean and golden, there to give him what he needed. Eager to catch up to Aiden’s nakedness, Tristan reached for his pajama bottoms, but Aiden stopped him.

“Let me do it.”

Aiden climbed onto the bed and straddled Tristan’s waist, his body heat seeping through the thin cloth of his pajama pants. Leaning forward, Aiden softly brushed his lips across Tristan’s cheek. He moved to the corner of his mouth, but didn’t kiss him. Tristan turned his head to try and steal a kiss but Aiden evaded his lips.

“No. You have to earn it.”

Tristan had expected that, so he didn’t protest other than with a low growl of annoyance.

Aiden merely grinned as he pulled the pajamas down and off, Tristan helping him with a shift of his legs. Now they were both naked. Tristan had a dozen things he wanted to do: open his legs and cradle Aiden between them, smooth his hands up the lean muscles of his lover’s thighs, cup the balls so enticingly nestled against him... But he did none of the things in his head. Instead, he waited as Aiden reached into the bag and pulled out a set of cuffs.

They were leather, the inside lined with soft faux fur. Aiden dangled the cuffs in front of him, watching him with a steady gaze. Tristan stared back for a long moment, unable to immediately give in. Eventually though, he lifted his hands over his head, allowing Aiden to clasp the cuffs around his wrists and chain him to the bed. They were more symbolic than useful because it would take no more than a flick of Tristan’s wrists to break free of the restraints. He had to want to be restrained by Aiden. And he did. So, his hands didn’t move.

Aiden upended the bag, spilling the rest of its contents onto the bed. Tristan started to turn and look at what had fallen beside him, but Aiden stopped him with a quick command.

“Eyes on me.”

Tristan snapped his gaze back to Aiden’s. It was fine, he liked not knowing everything that was going to happen for the night. He smelled leather, but beyond that he had no idea what Aiden had brought tonight. The first item was revealed when Aiden picked up a pair of leather gloves and drew them on. Tristan assumed they were regular gloves. Until Aiden smoothed his palms over his chest. Tristan jerked in surprise as tiny spikes scratched his skin. One corner of Aiden’s mouth curled up in a half-grin at his reaction.

“Vampire gloves. You like?”

Tristan nodded as Aiden continued to run his hands over him.

“A soft touch and I can make your skin so sensitive.” Aiden raised a hand. “But one slap and I can hurt you, make you bleed in dozens of tiny little pin pricks.”

Tristan’s mouth went dry as he waited for that hand to fall in a slap. It didn’t happen. Aiden lowered his hand slowly, so slowly, until Tristan’s muscles twitched in anticipation for his touch. Finally, that hand landed on him.

Aiden smoothed the gloves lightly over his chest and down to his abs. The sensation was strange yet amazing, the spikes raising goose bumps on his skin. Tristan’s breath started to come a little heavier, a little faster, his skin tingling everywhere the leather and spikes trailed, just as Aiden had said would happen. Every time Aiden raised his hand, Tristan’s breath caught in his throat as he wondered if Aiden would strike him. He never did. But the anticipation of the hit was enough to have his heart racing and his cock stiff and hard as it lay on his belly.

The sensual torture continued on, Aiden’s hands drifting down to his thighs then back up to tease the ultra-sensitive skin over his pelvis. Tristan groaned deep in his throat, his hands twitching in the cuffs when Aiden loosely wrapped a fist around his shaft, pumping him with a light touch. The dangerous grip of the vampire gloves on such a vulnerable part of him was threatening, yet oddly arousing. Aiden could hurt him like this. Yet, the wicked thrill of it had Tristan pushing his hips up seeking more.

He looked up at Aiden. The other man was watching him, no, studying him and his reactions. His eyes burned bright as a blue flame as he stared down at Tristan. From that look, Tristan knew that Aiden was about to push him a little bit further.

Aiden stretched out over him, their bodies melding together in a meeting of soft skin over hard muscles. Aiden brushed his lips over his.

“Kiss me.”

Tristan parted his lips for his lover, welcoming his tongue into his mouth, taking the kiss he’d earned. But at the exact moment when Aiden’s tongue touched his, he squeezed his hand lightly around his cock, the vampire teeth biting into his vulnerable flesh. Tristan gasped, his entire body jerking in a delicious mix of surprise, pain, and pleasure. He hadn’t expected that but he liked it. Tristan exhaled softly when Aiden released him. Aiden inhaled at the same time, making Tristan feel as though he were swallowing down his breath.

Aiden deepened the kiss, squeezing his cock again as he did. Tristan groaned deep in his chest, loving the dark, dangerous pleasure of those teeth pricking along his skin. His arousal shot through the roof when Aiden ground his hips against him, his cock pressing onto his thigh, and kept kissing him, their tongues tangling together wildly. Every so often Aiden would grip his cock again, and each time, the tiny spikes sent a white-hot pulse of pleasure along his shaft.

Suddenly Aiden ended the kiss and reared up onto his knees. Tristan looked down Aiden’s body. Not that he needed visual confirmation of his lover’s arousal, but Aiden was as hard as he was, his thick cock standing straight up. Tristan licked his lips at the sight. He was achingly ready for more, ready for Aiden to fuck him. But he knew Aiden, which meant he knew that wouldn’t happen yet.

He waited, his chest still pumping with his heavy breaths as Aiden stripped off the gloves and tossed them to the floor. He picked up a bottle of lube and dripped the liquid over two fingers. Those slick fingers lowered to his ass and without being told Tristan parted his thighs. Aiden smirked, and Tristan briefly wondered why. But when one of those fingers slid inside him, he immediately gave up on trying to figure out the workings of Aiden’s mind. He simply opened himself up to the pleasure of that finger sliding in and out of him with agonizing slowness.

A shudder ran through him when Aiden pushed another finger into him, twisting and scissoring them in the same deliberate rhythm. Aiden picked up something else from the bed, but before it came into his line of sight Aiden gave him an order.

“Close your eyes and keep ‘em closed until I say otherwise.”

Tristan shut his eyes, as always amazed that he trusted Aiden like this. He shivered when the soft caress of feathers brushed over his stomach. A feather tickler. That was okay; it felt nice as it trailed over his already sensitive skin. But then the feathers left his body, and not even a second later came the sharp slap of leather against his nipple. Tristan gasped and flinched in reaction.

Aiden continued on like that, brushing the feathers over random places on his body before quickly switching to stinging slaps. Sometimes the leather hit his skin once, sometimes twice, sometimes three times. There was no pattern to how many times he would feel that sharp slap, or when it would be the light caress of the feathers, or where either touch would land on his body.

Tristan moaned and twisted in his restraints. He had to remind himself not to move too much so he didn’t accidentally break free, his brain and his body conflicted on whether to get away from the exquisite torture or to get closer. His flesh burned hot and stinging everywhere the leather struck, his cock throbbed, and pre-cum dripped from his cock to pool on his belly. He couldn’t see, but he assumed Aiden was using a two-sided toy to be able to switch back and forth so quickly. And all the while the fingers of his other hand kept thrusting inside him, stretching him open and brushing against that sensitive spot deep within him.

Aiden quietly spoke. Since Tristan’s eyes were still closed, the other man’s voice was a disembodied whisper in the quiet room.

“Tristan, Tristan, Tristan. I know how you feel about me. And yet you let me use you like this.” Aiden lightly struck his nipple with the leather. “You must be sick to allow it.”

Tristan gasped and arched in pleasure-pain at the exquisite abuse to his nipple. Still, he kept his eyes closed as he dragged in a breath to answer. “No sicker than the man who can’t stay away from someone he proclaims to hate.”

The leather slapped him harder than before and Tristan gasped again. But then Aiden’s mouth drifted to the sore spot, laving it gently with his tongue, and soothing it with a tender kiss. Tristan held his breath as Aiden moved down his body, lips brushing against his shaft. He kept still as Aiden’s tongue slowly licked across the head of his cock. But when Aiden sucked him into his mouth, Tristan’s breath exploded from his chest. His hips started to roll, pumping up at the same rhythm Aiden sucked him. Aiden’s mouth slid up and down on his cock, slick and hot, drawing moan after moan from him as he helplessly thrust his hips up over and over. Aiden knew what he was doing, knew exactly the right combination of speed and suction to drive him wild.

Tristan’s heart raced, his muscles trembling as he fought not to break free and take the pleasure he wanted from Aiden. As it was, the pleasure Aiden gave him was so intense, he didn’t think he’d be able to take much more without losing it. Aiden’s fingers withdrew and he took his mouth off his cock. The lube cap popped as it was opened again. Aiden’s voice came out of the darkness once more.

“Open your eyes, Tristan.”

Tristan obeyed. Before him, Aiden kneeled between his spread thighs, stroking a hand over his own cock. The hard flesh glistened in the moonlight. Tristan swallowed hard. Aiden had coated himself with the lube, which meant that he would finally feel that thick shaft thrusting inside him. Aiden lowered his body into position, pressing the head of his cock to Tristan’s entrance. He slipped the head in, giving Tristan a taste of the fullness he craved. Then he stopped.

“Ask for it.”

Tristan’s hands tightened into fists in his cuffs while Aiden stared down at him, waiting. He wanted to deny the arrogant request. But he needed to feel Aiden inside him and he knew he wouldn’t get his release any other way. After the barest hesitation, he ceded victory to Aiden in their little dominance battle and asked for it. “I want you, Aiden.”

Aiden pressed inside him the barest inch. “Want me to what, Tristan?”

Tristan clenched his jaw, breathing hard through his nose. He held out a little longer before answering this time, until Aiden gripped his cock and started stroking him. Tristan groaned in defeat and said what Aiden wanted to hear. “I want you to fuck me.”

Aiden smirked. “That wasn’t too hard was it?”

His retort never found its way out of his mouth because Aiden pushed all the way inside him in a slick slide, bringing another groan from deep within his chest. Aiden started thrusting, moving slowly, even as he pumped Tristan’s cock. Tristan’s abs sucked in tight at the simultaneous pleasures of being fucked and stroked at the same time. Aiden came down on top of him, their bodies pressing together, to brush a light kiss over his lips.

“How do you want me to fuck you, Tristan?”

Tristan breathed his answer into Aiden’s mouth. “Hard.” Aiden began moving faster, his thrusts becoming rougher. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. “Harder, Aiden.” Tristan moaned as Aiden immediately pushed into him with more force. But he knew that Aiden could give him more, that he was still holding back. Tristan egged him on until he got what he wanted. “Harder Aiden! Fuck me hard-.”

Aiden’s lips crashed onto his, cutting off his goading, his tongue thrusting into his mouth in a ferocious kiss. Now Aiden fucked him with a wild, fierce rhythm. His cock slid over that sweet bundle of nerves inside him with nearly every stroke, making Tristan’s toes curl at the rush of pleasure. Tristan was aware that Aiden didn’t like him, and his own feelings for the other man were conflicted. But when they came together like this, they always managed to bring out nothing but the hottest passion, the most exquisite feelings of pleasure from each other.

Tristan didn’t move his arms as Aiden fucked him, driving him closer and closer to his release. But he set his feet flat on the bed, using the leverage that gave him to push his hips up and meet Aiden’s deep thrusts. At the same time, his movements forced his cock through the tight grip of Aiden’s fist, doubling his pleasure. Aiden’s body started to tighten over his, signaling that he was close to climax. Tristan pushed his hips up faster and Aiden matched his speed until their bodies frantically slapped together, hot and slick with sweat.

Tristan’s cock throbbed, every nerve ending inside him stimulated as Aiden thrust inside his ass. His orgasm began pulsing in his shaft, his spine tingled, and his balls were taut and full. But he bit his lip, stubbornly holding back, determined that Aiden would come first. Aiden’s thrusts became erratic, faster, tighter, before he finally groaned and went stiff.

When the heat of Aiden’s release spilled into him, Tristan let himself go. His orgasm shot up his cock, bursting out of him in a hot rush. He shouted as his cum made Aiden’s fingers move on him in a wet slide, working him for every amazing pulse of pleasure he could get until finally, they both collapsed in a spent heap.

The two of them lay on their sides, sweat drying on their skin, their breathing returning to normal. Tristan’s eyelids grew heavy as Aiden rubbed his arm in a gentle, calming caress. Aiden leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Can you sleep now?”

Tristan exhaled on a ragged sigh. “Yeah.” It was quiet for several long seconds before Aiden spoke again.

“I won’t be here when you wake up.”

Something dangerously close to disappointment welled in Tristan’s chest, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he answered simply, “I know.”

The room grew quiet again and Tristan lay there enjoying the peace he’d been given until finally, he slept.

Chapter 3

TWO DAYS AFTER HIS encounter with Aiden, Force landed in front of an older building near a local high school. Brightly colored Pride banners livened up the weathered gray stone, identifying it as the local youth center for LGBT children and teens. The center was a safe space for youth to be themselves, connect with others, and receive needed assistance and support. He’d been a member of the center himself as a kid, a volunteer in college, and now he came in to serve as a role-model, helper, and friend for the current crop of members. As he entered the lobby, someone shouted out the news of his arrival.

“Crimson Force is here!”

Chairs screeched as kids jumped up from the long tables where they’d been working and ran over to Force. He followed them back into the main room, tugged forward by small hands eager to show him the old Victorian style Valentine’s Day cards they’d made for this week’s craft project. He spent time admiring each card, offering praise for the construction paper and glitter masterpieces. “These look great!”

Force gave special attention to one kid, a young boy named Ronnie who’d recently started coming to the center a few times a week. He was quiet and rarely spoke to anyone, but he appeared more sad than sullen. Force trusted that Director Henley and the kind staff here would be able to help Ronnie, but he was happy to lend a hand in bringing Ronnie forth from his shell. After that, it was time with the older teens.

At first, they all wanted to hear about his latest exploits battling villains. Then they started sharing how they’d stood up to the bullies in their own circles. Force was proud of their confidence and determination, but he wanted to make sure they were safe too.

“Remember, protection of those who need it is important, but violence is a last resort. Whenever you can, use your mind and your words before you even think about raising a fist.”

They all agreed, although he got groans and teasing for being a square. Toward the end of the visit he put a question to the group at large. “Any special requests for the Valentine’s Day party? Maybe a celebrity guest?”

There were immediately shouts for anime idols, a chocolate fountain, materials for love spells, and teddy bears as the group all clamored to make sure their requests were heard.

“We want to meet Shadow Tech!” two teens shouted in unison.

That brought Force up short. “You want to meet Shadow Tech?” he asked with a confused frown. “But he’s a villain.”

The two teens looked at each other before they burst out laughing.

“No, he’s not!”

“He gives money to poor people.”

“You guys know he steals that money, right?”

One of the teens shrugged. “From fat cats who probably don’t even notice it’s gone.”

“A kid at my school’s house burned down before Christmas,” the other kid said. “His whole family was going to be separated out among relatives until his mom and dad could get the insurance payment and find another house to rent, but Shadow Tech gave them ten grand so they could get a new place right away. And they got to stay together for the Christmas.”

A quiet girl, her long brown hair in a single braid over her shoulder, spoke up. “He’s an anti-hero. We learned about them in literature class.”

“Yeah! Anti-hero!”

The teens started chanting anti-hero! and dancing around Force in a circle. The younger kids didn’t know what an anti-hero was, but they joined in, laughing and circling.

Force watched their antics in amusement. Their smiles and laughter were infectious and he didn’t want to disappoint them. He gave in to the unexpected request with a laughing shake of his head. “All right, I’ll see if I can get him to stop by. But we will be talking about the particulars of right and wrong after his visit.”

“Yay!”

It was time for him to go, so he gave out high-fives, pats on the back, and hugs to all who wanted one before he made his way to the front door. Force stopped to talk to the center’s director on his way out. He sheepishly rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he approached her.

“I probably should have checked to make sure you’d be okay with Shadow Tech coming before I said I’d try.”

Director Henley smiled. “We get an anonymous ten-thousand-dollar donation once a year. It’s a big help for many of our programs.”

Well, that settled that. “I’ll do my best to get him here,” Force said with a firm nod.

∞∞∞

AFTER A LONG, but uneventful day at work, Aiden swung by the gym for a workout. He bypassed cardio machines and weights in favor of indoor rock climbing, choosing the most advanced of the three walls. The structure, designed to look like a small mountain, was the reason he’d joined this particular gym. After putting on his climbing shoes and chalking his hands, he got started. He’d barely made it a quarter of the way up when his phone rang. Aiden briefly took one hand off the wall to activate his ear piece then continued climbing.

“Hello?”

“It’s Tristan.”

“What can I do for you, Tristan?”

“Are you busy?”

“I’m always busy. But right now, I’m rock climbing. Gotta keep those skills sharp. Never know when I’ll need them.” Of course, the main time he needed them was to gain access to restricted places for his hacking. He held back a laugh at Tristan’s annoyed sigh at that reminder.

“Listen, the kids at the youth center would like to see you.”

Aiden paused in his ascent. “What?”

“I asked who they wanted as a special guest at their Valentine’s Day party this week, and they asked for the Shadow Tech to come and visit.”

Aiden huffed a laugh even as he resumed climbing and pushed up to the next hand hold. “Oh, I bet that burned your ass. The impressionable youth should only want visits from upstanding superheroes, not criminals like me, right?” The beat of silence on the other end was answer enough for his question.

“My thoughts on that aren’t important. It’s about what the kids want.”

“Of course, it is.”

“Well, then. Will you come? The party is tomorrow at six, so you’ll still have the actual holiday free if you have plans with someone.”

“Are you fishing to find out if I have a date? Would you be jealous if I did?”

“No. Dress is high school dance fancy.”

Aiden rolled his eyes at Tristan’s abrupt denial and quick change of subject. No matter what happened at night, during the day, the hero never liked to be reminded that there was any hint of an intimate connection between the two of them.

“Can you make it to the party?”

“Oh, sorry. Can’t hear you. I’m going through a tunnel.” Aiden made loud fake static noises into the phone.

“Damnit, Aiden!”

Aiden laughed and ended the call, pleased that he’d managed to make good boy Tristan say a curse word. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t resist needling the other man whenever they spoke. It was his nature to joke and tease, but with Tristan, he always felt as if he’d won a prize whenever his taunts managed to get a rise out of him.

Soon after ending the call, Aiden reached the top of the mountain. He sat there for a moment, surveying the gym below him. Although he hadn’t visited the LGBT youth center in quite some time, he’d always have a soft spot for the place. It had been a place of refuge for him as a kid, giving him the confidence he needed to be himself and teaching him how to pursue his goals as an adult.

Aiden stood and prepared to go back down the mountain. He’d planned to veg out tomorrow, but now it seemed as if his plans had changed. He was going to have to go and buy a new suit.

∞∞∞

FORCE ARRIVED TO the youth center early to help decorate and set up for the Valentine’s Day dance.

“Can you hang these garlands over the doorways, please?” Director Henley asked.

“Sure thing.” He took the garland of red metallic hearts and flew up to hang it over one of the two entrances to the common room.

“Wow. That is so cool.”

Force looked down to see Ronnie standing right beneath him. He grinned and floated back to the floor. “Want to help me with the next one?”

“Yeah!”

He handed Ronnie the garland and tape and gripped him beneath the arms. Force flew up, holding the kid steady as he taped the garland to one corner of the second doorway, then floated over and waited as he did the same on the other side. Once the garland was attached, Force swooped them around the high-ceilinged lobby and did a barrel roll before he brought them back to the floor. Ronnie spun around to face him, his cheeks high with color, and excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“I got to fly with Crimson Force! Holy shit, I gotta tell my friends.”

Force choked back a laugh in order to put on his stern face. “Language!”

“Sorry!” Ronnie tossed over his shoulder as he ran off.

Once Ronnie was out of sight, Force smiled at the boy’s uncharacteristic exuberance.

“He’s having a rough time,” Director Henley said. “His family are working on accepting who he is, but they’re having to unlearn some things. As you’ve seen, he’s been extremely down about it. But that moment brightened his day.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Is our guest going to show for the party?”

“I’m not sure. I called and gave him the details but I couldn’t get a firm answer out of him.”

“I take it you two are on the outs again,” Director Henley said as she opened a package of brownies with pink hearts sprinkled on the tops.

“We’re always on the outs,” he answered grumpily. The memory of sharing desperate kisses with Aiden reminded him that wasn’t quite true. He didn’t mention that to the director however.

“You’re a good man, Force. You have been since the first time you walked through our front doors.”

Force knew the sound of a silent but when he heard one. He set out stacks of red paper plates as he waited for her to continue.

“But you can be a little rigid sometimes. Maybe you and the Shadow can talk, find some sort of middle ground between you.”

“I don’t see how we could. We have completely different beliefs. He commits crimes. I stop crime.”

Director Henley sighed. “I just remember the two of you always together from junior high all the way through your college years. It’s sad to see your friendship in such a state now.”

Force finished stacking the plates. “It saddens me too.” As he said the words, he realized how true they were. And he wondered... Had he been too rigid that night and in the five years since? He’d always thought that he’d done the right thing ending their relationship, but maybe it was time to reevaluate his decision.

TWO HOURS LATER, the party was in full swing. The kids were having a good time, dancing to the DJ’ s mix of upbeat tunes and slow dance ballads, gorging themselves on treats and punch, and taking dozens of pictures that Force assumed would all be posted on their social media. He’d managed to find a cosplayer who’d come dressed as the anime idol the kids had requested. But their other guest was nowhere to be seen.

Aiden hadn’t reached out to him to say yes or no to attending the party. Force had to assume that meant he wasn’t going to come. He was preparing to go for his backup plan of taking each kid for a short flight over the city to make up for the disappointment of failing to bring in Shadow Tech, when the front door opened.

Cold air swirled into the lobby, blowing across the space to reach them in the common room. A man stood there, his face partially covered by a domino mask, curly blond hair falling artfully over his forehead. He was dressed for the party in a hot pink velvet tuxedo jacket with black satin lapels, slim black pants, and a black button down left casually untucked, the top two buttons undone. The man also carried a giant red gift bag in one hand; it was so full the sides bulged out.

“I heard there are some kids here who wanted a visit from the Shadow Tech,” he said as he strolled into the common room.

Excited screeches rang out as the kids rushed up to him. The Shadow took their exuberant greetings in stride, letting their momentum carry him into the center of the room. Pleased that Aiden had shown up to the party, Force stepped back to the sidelines and let the kids have their time with him.

∞∞∞

AIDEN WAS ACTUALLY having a nice time at the Valentine’s dance. The kids were excited to see him and he liked their energy. They were also painfully blunt.

“How did you learn to steal money from rich guys and not get caught?”

“First, it’s important to set up firewalls and have a floating IP-.”

Force shot over to his side and cut him off before he could detail all the steps he took.

“I think what Shadow Tech meant to say, is he learned his computer skills in college.”

Aiden grinned. Of course, Mr. Good Guy wouldn’t let him tell impressionable teens about his hacking methods. Unfortunately, the kid looked disappointed that his answer had been interrupted. Aiden winked at him and put his hands up in a What can I do? gesture. Placated at their moment of shared understanding, the kid grinned back.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked instead.

Aiden looked down at the bag he’d put next to his feet. When he’d gone to the mall to get his suit, he’d decided on a spur of the moment shopping spree. He hadn’t purchased anything expensive, just fun gifts that teens and tweens would like. “Gifts for all of you. I didn’t have time to get them wrapped.” He randomly pulled items from the bag, handing out each gift to the first set of hands that appeared in front of him. “You can trade for whatever you want,” he told the excited bunch.

Still standing beside him, Tristan leaned in to whisper a question in his ear.

“Are these stolen goods?”

“I’m a villain, remember?”

Tristan sighed. “Aiden...”

“No, they’re not stolen. They’re purchased with my money that I earned. Earned from my regular job. Sheesh, calm down. You know I don’t keep any of the Shadow Tech money for myself.”

After a beat of silence, Tristan’s next words surprised him.

“You’re right. I do know that. I’m sorry.”

Aiden looked at Tristan with an eyebrow raised. “Wow. An apology. Guess I earned some good will by coming here tonight.”

“Someone pointed out to me that I’m too rigid. So, I’m trying to relax.”

Aiden laughed. “Yeah, I’m not touching that one. Don’t want to lose the points I just earned.”

A dark-skin girl, her long brown hair in braids entwined with red ribbons, came over. “Can you tell us about one of the people you helped? A firsthand account from an actual anti-hero would be awesome to share with my literature class next week.”

“I have to check with the big guy.” Aiden looked at Crimson Force, dressed according to his name and the occasion in an all-over bright red version of his suit. The man looked good; his muscles amazingly defined in the tight superhero costume. His short brown hair was neatly combed, except for the few silky strands that fell charmingly over his forehead, and his firm lips were relaxed in an easy-going smile. “Is it okay if I tell a story?”

“No specific details on how you obtained the resources to help them,” Force said with a warning look.

“Got it.”

Force signaled to the DJ to turn down the music before excusing himself to do a quick patrol. One of the dance chaperones brought Aiden a chair. He thanked them and sat down while the kids sprawled on bean bag chairs or sat cross-legged on the floor, ready to listen.

“It started with one of those heart-warming stories that are actually pretty awful once you peel the layers back. A young man was holding a big Valentine’s Day bake sale to raise money for his girlfriend’s insulin. It was definitely a sweet thing for him to do, and it brought awareness to a major problem. But I stepped in to help the woman’s family...”

He was mid-way through the story when he noticed one of the chaperones giving him the stink-eye. Aiden ignored them. Not everyone approved of what he did. He did steal money after all. They probably weren’t too happy that someone like him was here speaking to the kids. But he was sure that Tristan would give them one of his rah-rah good guy talks after he was gone so it was all good. The sour-faced chaperone left the room and Aiden mentally shrugged as he continued his story.

“... The next day the anchormen were all joking about the world’s most expensive cookies. Except I never got to eat a single one. The couple realized it and put it on the internet that they’d be leaving me a box of cookies as a thank you. Unfortunately, there was no way to let me know without also letting the authorities know, and the police set a trap for me. But I was ready for them. I set up a couple of flashy diversions, scrambled their radios, and used a drone to grab my reward.”

“You risked being caught for cookies!” the girl who’d asked for the story exclaimed with wide eyes.

Aiden grinned. “It was worth it. The boyfriend was training to be a pastry chef, and those were the best chocolate chip cookies I’d ever had in my life.”

The kids laughed and clapped at the end of the story. They were trying to convince him to tell another one when someone banged on the front doors.

“Open up, police!”

Aiden whipped around in surprise. The soft music abruptly stopped and someone squeaked in fright before everyone started talking at once.

Director Henley strode to the center of the room and raised her hands for quiet. “We don’t have to let them in without a warrant,” she said firmly.

But the guy who’d given Tristan the hard look earlier rushed over to the door and flung it open.

“He’s in there, officers,” he said as he led two uniformed police officers into the common room.

“Gary!” Director Henley exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this?”

“That man is a criminal,” he said pointing at Aiden. “He shouldn’t be around our kids.”

Aiden stood with his hands up. He didn’t want to be arrested, but more importantly he didn’t want to frighten the kids. The younger ones were already crying, while the older teens stepped protectively in front of him, angry and yelling at the cops. Aiden pushed them behind him, safely out of the way. “It’s okay, guys,” he calmly reassured them all. “It’s okay.”

“We’ve been informed that you’re the hacker known as Shadow Tech,” the taller officer said. “You’ll be coming with us.”

Both officers pointed their tasers at him. Aiden was prepared to go with them, at least as far as out the front door where the kids couldn’t see, when a small voice spoke up.

“You’re not going to hurt Cupid, are you?”

A frown creased the shorter officer’s forehead as he looked down at a petite girl, her red hair pulled back by a fat pink headband. “Cupid?”

The girl nodded, her brown eyes wide and imploring. “Yeah. He brought us presents and told us Valentine’s stories. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We asked him to come here!”

“You can’t be rude and arrest our guest!”

In the face of the kids’ shouts and tears, the two officers looked at each other for a long moment. Slowly they lowered their tasers and put them away. “I don’t see any hacking going on. Just a guy celebrating Valentine’s Day with kids.”

“I agree. I guess we received a bad tip.”

“Yay!”

The kids celebrated and Aiden nodded his thanks at the cops for backing down. A grateful Director Henley passed the officers a plate filled with cookies and other treats then showed them out. Once the door was closed, she pinned Gary with a look that made the one he’d given Aiden look like a pout from a teddy bear.

“In my office, now.” She marched to her office with a cowed Gary slumping along behind her. Henley closed the door behind them with a decisive snap.

Aiden sighed with relief. He’d been let off, but he didn’t want to push his luck. It was time for him to go. He turned to the kids.

“Thanks for inviting me to your party.”

“Thanks for coming!”

“Yeah, it was super cool to meet you.”

They said their goodbyes and a chaperone came over to usher them back to the dance floor. Tristan strode back into the room right as the DJ started spinning again. He walked up to Aiden, smelling like fresh night air, with a slight frown creasing his forehead.

“Did something happen?”

Aiden shrugged and gave him a quick rundown of the brief trouble Gary had caused.

“I’m sorry that happened. If I’d been here-.”

“Stop taking the blame for everything on your shoulders. The kids handled it just fine. That red-head has a devastating pair of puppy dog eyes on her. Those cops didn’t stand a chance against them.”

Tristan huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ve seen that look. It took months before the staff became immune to Lucy’s pleading.”

“I can imagine. But I’d better get going. I don’t want to push my luck by staying much longer.”

“Thank you for coming. The kids and I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I enjoyed myself, even if you didn’t let me tell my best stories.” He folded up the now empty red gift bag and tucked it under his arm.

“That was really nice of you to bring the kids gifts. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Apparently I’m Cupid. Cupid has to bring gifts.”

A smile twitched the corners of Force’s mouth.

“I don’t think that’s what Cupid does.”

Aiden shrugged, a grin tugging at his own mouth. “I didn’t want to be tacky and show up empty-handed.”

“That’s why you went to Hot Topic and grabbed one of everything?”

Now Aiden laughed full-out, remembering the wide-eyed looks of the clerks as they rang out and bagged his massive purchase. “Yeah, that’s basically what happened.” He touched his mask to make sure it was still in place. “Sorry I didn’t bring you a Valentine’s gift.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

Aiden was ready to go but for some reason, he didn’t move. Instead, he looked into soft, rain-cloud gray eyes. “Are you expecting any Valentine’s gifts this year?”

The smile still lingering on Tristan’s mouth became tinged with sadness. “No. I haven’t expected anything from Valentine’s Day for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Several moments passed before Aiden realized he was staring into Tristan’s eyes like a love-sick teen. He turned away, but still reluctant to leave, he stood next to Tristan, watching the kids bopping around on the dance floor.

“Remember when that was us out there?”

Tristan chuckled softly. “I remember you asking me to dance when I was too shy to go out there on my own. We had some good times back then.”

“Yeah. Before one of us became a hero while the other became a villain of the people.”

“Yes. Before all of that.”

They fell silent, watching the kids dancing and having fun. Aiden continued to think of his own time here as a kid, time shared with the man currently at his side. And he suspected Tristan was doing the same.

Their moment of quiet reminiscing was interrupted when Aiden’s phone beeped with the alert he’d set up for important breaking news. With some regret, he took the phone out of his pants pocket and thumbed to open the alert. He cursed at the headline for the video link Channel 4 News had uploaded.

“What is it?”

In answer, Aiden raised the phone so they could look at the screen together. Then he pushed play on the video link. Professor Spite’s face filled the screen.

“Greetings citizens. Many of you are preparing to celebrate a day of love tomorrow. Unfortunately, some of you won’t get to carry out those romantic plans. My Hate Bomb is near completion and I will plant it tomorrow, in one of your places of romance. It will destroy your romantic plans and your lives.” He paused to give a spite-filled grin to the camera. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” The video ended with a shower of hearts and rose petals floating down the screen. One by one they crumbled into gray ash and the screen went dark.

Aiden looked at Tristan. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes had turned stormy with anger.

“I have to catch him. If I don’t, the city will shut down in fear.”

“Businesses and employees expecting a big holiday pay day won’t get it if everyone stays home to make sure they aren’t on a date in the location where Spite hid his explosive device.”

“Exactly. I can’t let Spite plant his Hate Bomb.”

For once, Aiden didn’t feel like teasing Tristan for his heroic determination. Lives were at stake and Crimson Force was the only man who could put a stop to the villain’s nefarious plans. “You’ll stop him,” he said with confidence.

“Not if I can’t find him,” Tristan answered with a frustrated frown.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to search every square inch of this city until I find him.”

He strode off, crimson cape rippling behind him.

Aiden watched him go. He wasn’t a crime fighter like Tristan, but maybe there was something he could do to help.

Chapter 4

AIDEN LEFT THE DANCE immediately after Tristan. At home, he went into his study and sat down at his computer. He didn’t do any of his Shadow Tech hacking here, but he still had a powerful computer system with access to satellites and data that the average civilian couldn’t even begin to imagine. He trolled the web, looking for hints and crumbs of a particular signature.

It took him a surprising amount of time to find what he was looking for. Apparently, Professor Spite had learned some cyber cloaking techniques of his own. But he wasn’t as good as the Shadow Tech. Aiden picked up his digital signature, and using satellite technology, found his location.

“Gotcha!” he whispered in satisfaction.

Aiden brought up an untraceable line and sent a text message.

I’ve got a Valentine’s present for you after all. Professor Spite is at this address. Move fast and you can catch him before he plants his bomb.

How do I know this isn’t someone from Professor Spite’s camp setting a trap?

Aiden sighed. He understood that Tristan had to take precautions, so he quickly thought of something that only the two of them would know. You had to stop wearing your lucky red underwear when you switched to the all-white suit because they showed through.

A pause on the other end. And then...

Thanks for the intel.

Aiden snorted a laugh. He was the only one who knew that because he’d been the one to point it out when it happened. He’d watched as Tristan stared at himself in the bedroom mirror, mortified that he’d been flying around the city with a bright red ass on display. Thankfully, the day had been quiet and he hadn’t landed or flown low enough for anyone to see. No one else knew about the incident, but Aiden had called him Cherry Butt for weeks afterward.

Aiden sighed at the good memory, one of many that had been on his mind lately. That day had been one of the last of their good times together, as their fight over his decision to become a cyber Robin Hood had come soon after. They’d broken up and gone nearly two years without speaking. But the mutual cold shoulder hadn’t lasted beyond that, since they couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. They were on speaking terms again, although now their interactions were filled with antagonistic quips. And of course, they found themselves in bed together too many times to count, even though they both professed to hate it.

There was no denying that there was a wide gulf between their ideologies. He believed in helping the common man by any means necessary, while Tristan refused to operate outside the law. Despite their differences however, he still liked Tristan. And he wanted to believe that the feeling was mutual. He couldn’t imagine anyone as good as Tristan sleeping with a man if he truly hated him.

Aiden laughed to himself. Or maybe the damn romantic holiday was getting to him and he was hoping for a Valentine’s miracle. It might take a miracle to bridge the gulf that had grown between them. With a short sigh of regret, Aiden turned on the TV and switched to the news to wait and see if his tip for Crimson Force panned out.

∞∞∞

THANKS TO THE information he’d received, Force knew exactly where Professor Spite was at that very moment. And he trusted the intel, Aiden would never set him up for failure or harm. He might be a cyber-thief but at his core, he was a good man.

He flew across the city, moving so fast he would be nothing more than a crimson blur to those on the ground, until he arrived at an abandoned junk yard. Once there, he floated behind a cover of trees, scouting the location. He spotted two armed guards patrolling the yard and his super hearing picked up five voices inside the sole building on the property. One voice had the right timbre and cadence to be Professor Spite. This was the place.

Force floated over the fence and silently landed behind one of the guards. Reaching out, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi.”

The guard spun around. Her eyes popped open wide in surprise and she started to raise her weapon. Before she could get it into position, Tristan moved lightning fast, taking the gun away from her.

She looked down at her now empty hands in surprise. “Hey!”

Force grinned and bent the barrel of the gun, rendering it useless. The guard looked at the ruined weapon, then back him. She must have decided it wasn’t worth it to take the interaction any further, because she took off running for the exit.

“Smart move,” Force said to himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as lucky with the second guard. He chose that moment to check in over the comm link. When he didn’t get a response back, he rushed over to where the fleeing guard was supposed to be. He spotted Force and immediately started firing. Obviously aware of Force’s ability to move at super-human speed, he sprayed bullets in a wide back and forth arc, hoping to get in a lucky shot.

Force would have to be careful getting close to the guard. Although he had super-fast healing, a bullet wound might slow him down. And he needed to be sharp to make sure he captured Spite and the rest of his goons. He flew up, zig zagging in the air to avoid the bullets, biding his time until the gunman ran out of ammo. As soon as the clip was empty, Force flew in and took him out with a speeding punch before he could reload.

That took care of the two guards. Unfortunately, he’d lost the element of surprise thanks to the gunshots. But it didn’t matter. This time, there wasn’t a crowd of civilians there to divide his attention. He could direct one hundred percent of his focus to taking Spite and his henchmen down.

He walked up to a small dilapidated building and waited. A face appeared in the one grimy window before the door opened. Super punches took out the first two men that came charging at him. Once they were down another jumped out, flashing knives in hand. Force flew forward, fast as a torpedo. Arms extended, palms flat, he hit the man dead in the center of the chest. The henchmen went flying back, crashed into a pile of junk, and slumped to the ground unconscious.

Force strode back over to again face the front of the building. “Who else do you have in there? Send them out so we can get this over with.” He stood there impatiently waiting, his arms crossed over his chest. After a few moments, a giant bear of a man appeared in the doorway. He was so tall, his head barely cleared the doorframe, and his shoulders completely blocked the light from inside. When he stepped down, Force half-expected the ground to shake his stride was so heavy.

“Yeah.” The big man grinned. “Let’s get it over with.”

Unintimidated, Force moved forward. “I’m giving you one chance to walk away and let me bring the Professor in peacefully.”

“And I’m giving you once chance to walk away and not get beaten to a bloody pulp.”

Force shook his head. “Not going to happen. You sure you want to do this?”

“Bring it.”

Force hated to waste time on another fight. But apparently, there was no getting to Spite without going through this mountain. Determined to defeat him as quickly as possible, he got a running start before flying forward with his speeding punch. His aim was true, connecting right on the behemoth’s jaw. The blow usually knocked people out cold. This guy barely staggered under the onslaught.

And he grinned again.

Up close, Force saw that all his teeth were metal. He barely had a chance to wonder if his entire jaw was like that, when a massive fist came right at his face. Force ducked, avoiding taking the hit straight on the chin, but it still managed to clip his jawline. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he grimaced in distaste.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” the henchmen taunted.

Force spit blood, then offered his own grin. “You will too.”

They crashed together like two battling rams, exchanging blow after punishing blow. A ringing head butt let Force know that the man’s entire skull was lined with metal. The henchman managed to grip Force’s wrist and flip him over to the ground. He started to fly up to get back on his feet, but the behemoth grabbed his cape and yanked him back down. Before Force could get his bearings, the henchmen rolled him up in a submission hold, gripping and pulling his arm up and back in a merciless arm bar. White-hot pain flared in his shoulder and all the way down to his fingertips as the tendons were stretched far behind their intended capabilities.

An ordinary man would have tapped and asked for mercy. But Crimson Force was no ordinary man. Every day he put his body on the line for the good of the people and today was no exception. Gathering his strength, he took off, flying high, higher, until the air turned cold and the junkyard below looked like a children’s play-set. The behemoth realized if he let go, he’d have nothing to break his fall. He held onto Force, spewing curses and demands.

“Take me down now, damnit!”

“Your wish is my command.”

Force went into a free fall, speeding toward the earth, the behemoth screaming in his ear the entire time. At the last second, Force flipped in the air so that the giant slammed into the ground first.

The impact wrenched his shoulder with near black-out levels of pain. But a second later, the giant’s grip loosened before releasing completely. Force staggered to his feet, ready to do whatever necessary to put the cap on this fight with the big man. But thankfully he was already out, his eyes closed and limbs splayed in the dirt. Force quickly found a sheet of corrugated metal and used it to bind the henchman from shoulders to ankles, rolling him up like a tin burrito.

By the time he completed the makeshift restraint, his right arm was close to useless. But he didn’t let it show on his face when he strode into the building to finally face the city’s most hated villain. Professor Spite sat at a scarred wooden table, dressed as he usually appeared in his videos in a white turtle neck, gray tweed jacket and slacks, with his hair ruthlessly parted to one side. The nearly completed bomb was on the table in front of him. It was only missing the detonator. Force had made it just in time.

“This is the end of the line for you, Professor Spite. No more lackeys. No innocent civilians to use as shields. Tonight, you’ll pay for your crimes.”

The professor carefully adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and set the detonator off to the side. “I should have planted the bomb before I sent my video. But I do love to brag and incite fear in anticipation of my masterpieces.”

“That was your mistake,” Force agreed. “Unfortunately for you, you won’t get a chance to rectify it.” He tensed as Spite rose from the table. “Will you come peacefully?”

“Of course. I don’t engage in fisticuffs.”

Force nodded. Even as injured as he was, it wouldn’t have been a fair fight, and he was glad he could take the professor into custody without any more trouble. He picked up a length of pipe discarded on the ground and used it to fashion a pair of handcuffs for the villain.

“Let’s go. I hope you like to fly.”

“I prefer the train actually.”

“Too bad.”

Force stepped outside, immediately flying them up to head for the city. When they reached downtown, he went directly to the police station. Conversations stopped and all eyes were on them as soon as he walked through the doors. Force knew he looked a sight. His usually pristine red, white, and black hero’s suit was ripped in several places, and streaked with dirt and blood. Going by the throbbing on his jaw, he had a few bruises on his face that hadn’t yet healed. And of course, he had the city’s most notorious criminal in his grip.

“I believe this is the man you’ve been looking for,” he declared as he marched Professor Spite over to the police captain.

“Thank you, Crimson Force. We’ll take it from here.”

Once he handed Spite over to the booking department, and told them where to find his henchmen, Force turned to go. Officers came up to him, shaking his hand and patting him on the back on his way to the front door. Outside, a small crowd of worried civilians and reporters had gathered. Force put on a reassuring smile to address them all.

“You can rest easy that your Valentine’s day is safe from the villain Professor Spite. He was apprehended before he could plant the bomb and the police are on their way to round up his accomplices.”

A cheer went up, tense expressions relaxing into looks of happy relief. A reporter stepped forward to shout a question over the cheering.

“We know that you’ve had trouble finding Spite. How did you finally do it?”

Force looked directly into the camera behind the journalist when he answered. “I had help from an old friend. I owe him my thanks.”

“You look like you took a beating, Force,” another reporter called out.

Force chuckled and nodded. “I did. These foes were tough to defeat. But in the end, good won out over evil.” He waved, remembering to use his non-injured arm. “Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.” With that, he flew off, headed for home.

Chapter 5

TRISTAN ARRIVED HOME, set the alarm, and went straight to the bathroom to take a hot shower. He washed away the grit and blood from the fight, and let the heat of the water soothe his sore muscles. By the time he dressed in sweat pants and an old college t-shirt, his cuts and bruises had already healed. The abused tendons in his shoulder would take a little longer to repair. Maybe even a few days.

Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Now that Professor Spite had been apprehended, the worry he’d been carrying had lessened. He could ease back from his extra patrols and get some rest, he thought as he went into the kitchen for something to eat. Although he was hungry, he wasn’t in the mood for a full meal, so he decided to make a late-night snack. Keeping his injured arm tucked close against his torso, he used his left hand to pop a bowl of popcorn and mix in a box of Milk Duds.

Taking the snack out to the living room, Tristan sat down to watch a movie. Before his butt hit the couch however, he realized he’d forgotten his drink. With a tired sigh, he set the bowl on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen. When he returned less than a minute later with his bottle of hard cider, a certain blond someone was sitting on the couch, eating his popcorn.

“How’d you get in here? The alarm is set.”

Aiden smirked. “Hacker extraordinaire, remember?”

“Okay, then. Why are you here?”

Aiden didn’t answer for a moment, instead, he tossed another handful of popcorn in his mouth and chewed while staring out the window. When he finished, he wiped his hands on the napkin Tristan had brought out earlier and stood.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“That’s not exactly helpful.”

“Maybe I wanted to check on you, make sure you’re all right,” he said with a nod toward Tristan’s shoulder. “I saw you favoring your arm on the news.”

Tristan eyed Aiden, not quite believing that explanation. “You know I’ll heal from this.”

Aiden dropped his head back with a groan. “Why do you have to question it? I’m here, so let’s do what we do when you let me sneak in your back door late at night.”

Aiden’s taunting smirk at his word play almost caused Tristan to miss the flash of bitterness in his bright blue eyes before it disappeared. That surprised him. But he didn’t have a chance to analyze it because Aiden stepped in close and pressed a kiss to his lips. Tristan automatically returned it, but after a moment he pulled back, giving himself just enough room to speak.

“Is late night sex all we’ll ever have?” he quietly asked.

Aiden responded just as softly. “Isn’t that what you want?”

That made Tristan go still as he considered. Like Aiden had said moments ago, he didn’t know. Aiden must have taken his silence as a yes to the question because he brought their lips together for another kiss. Deciding to let the conversation drop when Aiden’s warm tongue traced the seam of his lips, he opened to let him in.

At the first stroke of his lover’s tongue against his own, Tristan moaned with pleasure. Aiden tasted both salty and sweet, a perfect match for his personality. He shivered when Aiden’s hands slid under his shirt to caress his back, gasped when Aiden urged him close so that their bodies pressed together from chest to thigh.

Aiden slowly ended their kiss with a gentle love bite to Tristan’s lower lip. Then he trailed kisses along Tristan’s jaw, his scruffy beard tickling his skin. But Tristan turned his head, wanting to feel those lips against his own again. Aiden laughed softly before giving him what he wanted, sliding his tongue back into his mouth for more hot kisses.

Tristan wrapped his good arm around Aiden and pulled him in tight. He became a little more aggressive in their love play, thrusting his tongue into Aiden’s mouth and sucking on Aiden’s when he licked into his. Now it was Aiden’s turn to gasp as their kiss grew even hotter, both of them panting, their hands roughly roaming over each other’s bodies. Tristan loved it. They always had this between them - this heat and intensity - no matter what was going on with their personal feelings toward each other.

Aiden pulled back, his lips swollen and rosy from their desperate kisses. He stepped out of Tristan’s hold and set off down the hallway, pulling off his shirt as he went.

“Coming?” he asked without stopping to look back.

Tristan trailed after his lover, drawn to him as if he were following a Pied Piper’s tune. In the bedroom, Aiden took off his socks and shoes, then gave Tristan a softly voiced order.

“Finish for me.”

Tristan approached, his eyes following the path of golden hair on Aiden’s abs down to the waistband of his jeans. They were button fly tonight. Tristan slowly thumbed open each button. When he pushed the black denim down to the floor, his palm glided over hot, bare skin. As usual, Aiden wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Do you always walk around with nothing beneath your jeans or is that a special treat for me?”

Aiden laughed, wicked and low. “It’s a treat for me, because it’s one less layer to remove before I can get inside you.”

He stepped out of the puddle of denim and moved to undress Tristan. His T-shirt was swiftly removed and so were his sweats. But once Aiden got to his briefs he slowed down, teasingly sliding his fingers under the waistband, then smoothing his palms around to cup and squeeze his ass.

“Beautiful ass. Your entire body is beautiful, but your ass is a work of art.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” He’d meant the question to be flippant, but an undeniably needy undertone that he hadn’t intended slipped into his voice. Tristan expected Aiden to taunt him for his show of vulnerability, but to his surprise, he touched their lips together in a kiss as soft as the brush of a butterfly’s wings.

“You know I do.”

He finally started to tug off Tristan’s briefs, drifting to kneel on the floor as he did so. The cool air touched his shaft, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of Aiden’s hand wrapping around the rigid length.

“You’re always hard for me.”

Tristan audibly swallowed at the sight of Aiden on his knees before him, full, pink lips inches from his cock. The light turned his hair into a halo of golden curls and his blue eyes burned with sensual fire. “You’re gorgeous.” He reached down and ran his fingers through his lover’s hair as he returned the earlier compliment. “Especially like this.”

Aiden’s warm breath rushed over Tristan’s skin as he turned slightly to press an open mouth kiss to his wrist. Then he faced Tristan’s groin again. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to lick at the head of Tristan’s cock, catching the drops of pre-cum already beaded there. Aiden stared up at Tristan while he teased with playful little licks and kisses to his throbbing shaft.

“Aiden, please.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Aiden sucked him in, nearly down to the base in one swallow. Tristan groaned deep in his throat as his cock was surrounded by that hot, wet mouth. His eyes started to drift closed, but he forced them open so he could watch the gorgeously arousing sight. Aiden’s mouth stretched wide as his lips slid up and down his shaft. That wonderful tongue rubbing the underside of his cock made Tristan tremble, and his belly clenched tight when it slid over the sensitive opening on the tip. Aiden’s hand came up to fondle his balls and Tristan cried out, his hips shooting forward at the raw burst of pleasure. “Ahhhh!”

Aiden continued to fondle and suck, driving Tristan right to the edge of what he could withstand without giving in to his release, before he pulled off and licked his lips. “You taste good, Tristan.”

Tristan groaned and picked up his lover, flying them over to the bed. He fell on top of him, kissing him hard, moaning at the taste of himself mixed with the salty-sweetness of Aiden’s mouth. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Aiden managed to wiggle out from under him and sit up. “How do you want it tonight?”

Another surprise. Aiden was asking what Tristan wanted, no games, no power plays. In answer, he lay on his side, facing away from Aiden, then looked back at him over his shoulder. “Like this.”

“That’s perfect.” He smoothed a palm down the line of Tristan’s body before he rose to get lube.

Tristan watched as his lover slicked himself up, then returned to the bed, his stiff cock bobbing with his movements. He brought the lube with him, pouring some on his fingers. At Aiden’s nod, Tristan turned his hips slightly so that he could also drip some of the slick liquid into his crease.

“Come here.”

Tristan scooted back to get even closer, putting him in the perfect position for Aiden’s lips to land on his. He’d chosen this position so he could feel every inch of Aiden’s body pressed against his own, so that they could easily kiss during their love making, and it was perfect. They kissed as Aiden used his fingers to slowly and teasingly work him open, preparing his body for sex. Tristan was achingly hard by the time Aiden pulled back to check in with him.

“Ready?”

Tristan swept his tongue over kiss-stung lips. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Aiden slowly withdrew his fingers, wiping them on the sheet before gripping Tristan’s hips to hold him steady for his cock. He pushed in, Tristan easily accepting him thanks to his arousal and the careful attention preparing him. He bit his lip, eyes drifting closed as Aiden sank into him in slow stages. Once he was all the way inside, Tristan drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long, satisfied sigh.

“Damn, you feel good,” Aiden said with a harsh groan.

Tristan trembled as Aiden’s cock pulsed inside him. He loved the way it filled and stretched him, but he needed more. He pushed back against his lover. “Aiden. Fuck me.”

Aiden laughed, a hot rush of sound that blew over the shell of Tristan’s ear.

“I love when you say bad words. Say fuck again.”

He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Tristan hardened even more at Aiden’s whispered demand. He looked back over his shoulder again, making sure Aiden was watching when he followed his order. “Fuck,” he said, deliberately drawing out the curse word.

Aiden pulled almost all the way out then sank back in. They each groaned at the intense pleasure spiraling out from where their bodies were joined.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck. Fuck me.”

Aiden withdrew once more, but this time when he pushed back inside, he repeated the motion, pulling out and thrusting back in, over and over, hard and deep, fucking Tristan exactly as he’d asked him to do.

“Tristan, you’re so hot... so tight. Nothing compares to being inside you.”

“Oh yes ... You feel... so good... inside me,” he whispered in between panting breaths. His inner muscles clenched. And every time Aiden’s cock slid over that sensitive spot inside him, his own cock throbbed at the shivery sensation it caused. He reached down to grasp his cock and stroke himself off. But his sore shoulder protested, and he groaned in frustration. Aiden’s hand came up to push his away.

“I’ve got you, love,” he said as he took over stroking Tristan’s hard length.

Tristan was so thankful that his needy shaft was receiving attention he could have cried in gratitude. With Aiden taking care of all his needs, he lay there and let the throbbing sensations saturate his every pore, his very being. But it still wasn’t enough. He never wanted the sex and connection and closeness to end, but he knew that eventually it had to. That’s why he wanted to remember this for as long as he could.

“Harder. Make it so I can feel this when I’m alone again tomorrow.”

Aiden paused for a heartbeat. “Who said you’re going to be alone?” he asked once he resumed his deep thrusts.

“I-.”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off when Aiden’s lips crashed back onto his. They kissed desperately, as though they were trying to convey hidden wants and feelings without speaking them aloud. And maybe they were. Maybe they’d never be able to speak them as they had in years past.

But tonight, their bodies spoke for them, keeping them close as together they reached for their climax. Aiden threw a leg over both of Tristan’s, shifting so they were back to chest, wrapping him up in a sensual cocoon. Their skin slick with sweat, they slid against each other as Aiden worked his hips and continued to stroke Tristan’s cock, driving them higher and higher, closer to the peak, until finally, it happened...

Their climax exploded in a burst of overwhelming sensation. Tristan gasped, his skin tingling and his cock throbbing as he released into his lover’s hand and onto the sheets. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he gripped Aiden’s arm, needing the anchor as he rode out the waves of pleasure over him. He cried out his lover’s name. “Aiden, yes.”

“Tristan.”

Aiden groaned into his hair. He buried himself deep inside Tristan with one final thrust, then went still. His cock pulsed, spilling the heat of his release into Tristan.

The climax slowly began to ease, yet still they stayed pressed together, both of them trembling and panting, every movement bringing forth another shivery aftershock.

When Aiden finally withdrew Tristan turned to face him.

“That was...” Tristan couldn’t finish his sentence because he was still breathing hard, and because he was shocked at how amazing it had been between them tonight.

Aiden exhaled on a shuddering breath. “Yeah.” He looked at Tristan. “I only ever have that with you.”

Tristan kissed Aiden hard, happy with what happened between them, but not daring to talk about it any further. He didn’t want to ruin it with words that might lead to an argument. Still basking in the glow of post-orgasm bliss, it never occurred to him to ask if Aiden wanted to stay the night. He simply reached over to turn out the light and pulled his lover back into his arms to fall asleep.

∞∞∞

TRISTAN WOKE ON Valentine’s Day to the bright light that only came from sun reflecting off snow. He looked out the bedroom balcony doors and sure enough, the yard behind him was blanketed by a fresh layer of white powder. It was a nice surprise. Even better was the surprise indoors. Aiden lay next to him, the covers pushed down to his waist, on his side with one arm tucked beneath the pillow.

“You stayed the night,” Tristan said, stating the obvious.

“I did.”

“You haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Maybe it’s time I gave staying the night another try.”

They quietly gazed at each other for several long moments, before Tristan reached out to brush his fingers over golden morning stubble.

“I’d like that.”

“You would?”

“Yeah. I’d actually like it if you were here for more than late night sleepovers. I know that we can’t go back to the way things were five years ago, before you started hacking and I first put on the suit. But...” He took a deep breath before he said what he hadn’t been able to say last night. “I’ve missed you. And I want you back in my life as my friend and as my lover.”

Aiden sat up, pushing a pillow between his back and the headboard. “We were two young hotheads, determined that our way was the best and only way when we broke up. I think we’ve matured since then, but one thing hasn’t changed. I’m not going to stop helping people. But if it’ll make you feel better, I can be extra good during the times I’m not hacking to make up for it.”

Tristan shook his head. “I won’t ask you to change who you are or expect you to do any sort of penance. Either I accept you or I don’t.”

“And do you?”

Tristan took a moment to really think. He could remain as rigid in his ideals as he had been for the last five years, expecting everything to be black or white and everyone to be good or evil. Or, he could unbend a little and let someone he loved share his life in a more meaningful way. “Yeah, I do.”

A genuine smile - absent of the usual sardonic twist - curled Aiden’s lips and lit his blue eyes.

“And I accept you. No more mocking you for your beliefs and good deeds. Or trying to convince you to help people the way I want you to help them.”

Tristan sat up, scooting over so that their shoulders touched. “You know... I never stopped loving you. My supposed hate was frustration that we couldn’t find a way to be together.”

“Deep down, I knew that. As long and as well as I’ve known you, I know you wouldn’t have continued to sleep with someone you truly hated. And I’ve loved you all these years too. I faced your disapproval every time we met up because I wanted to be with you so much - even though I told myself I only wanted you for your body.”

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said with sincere regret. “I was a jerk.”

“We were both jerks.” Aiden laced their fingers together. “But now we have a second chance to try again. And we’re going to get it right this time.”

Happiness, as bright as the sun outside shining on fresh snow, spread inside Tristan’s chest, warming his heart. “We are going to get it right,” he said as he squeezed his lover’s hand.

Aiden returned the squeeze, then brought their joined hands up to brush a kiss over Tristan’s fingertips. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tristan.”

Tristan hadn’t expected this holiday to be anything special for him. But to his great surprise and pleasure, he’d been truly reunited with the man who’d won his heart many years ago. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Aiden’s bare shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”

Author Note

THANK YOU FOR READING Valentine’s Day Hero! This story was reader inspired. After I published BLAZE, a reader posted on my Facebook wall, sharing a story about a hero and villain coming together for a sick child. And in a m/m romance rec group, several other readers also expressed interest in that romance trope. I do have a hero and villain enemies to lovers story planned for the Heartthrob Heroes series. But since it’s several books away, I thought I’d do something fun and short for right now. And that’s how Valentine’s Day Hero came into being. So, thank you, to those readers who asked for a hero and villain story!

If you haven’t read my Heartthrob Heroes, BLAZE is now available and DR. Z will be available this April. If you want to know more about my superhero universe, stop by the Heartthrob Heroes page on my website for super-cool extras.

Thanks again for reading!

Love,

Christa

ChristaTomlinson.com

Read BLAZE Heartthrob Heroes #1 Available Now!

Turn the page for a sneak peek at BLAZE – Heartthrob Heroes #1!

Excerpt from Blaze

DANNY TAPPED A NERVOUS beat onto the steering wheel with his thumbs as he turned into a small parking lot. The yellow glow of street lamps lit the night, moths drawn by the light flitting beneath them. This lot was unattended and several blocks down from where he planned to go. But cars weren’t allowed to park on the old cobblestone streets in this section of downtown St. Louis, and the lots closer to the club where

he was headed were outrageously expensive.

Since his used Altima wasn’t worth stealing, and he didn’t mind the walk, he should be okay parking this far away. Danny pulled into a spot near the front, and stepped out onto the cracked asphalt. After locking the car, he tucked the keys into his shimmery, iridescent blue fanny pack, zipped it up, and set off.

Butterflies swooped and fluttered in Danny’s stomach as he walked. Tonight would hopefully be the start of a new and long-desired chapter in his life. He was about to check out one of the local BDSM clubs for the first time. After a year of researching and role-playing as a submissive online, he was ready to see the lifestyle up close and personal.

He hoped he looked okay. He’d gone for what he’d jokingly labeled a soft BDSM look when choosing his outfit earlier that evening. A sheer white tank top with gold ribbons sewn on in a pattern that mimicked a chest harness, tight black booty shorts, and glittery-blue, ankle-low combat boots. His artists’ soul enjoyed color too much to go with the all black style he often saw in fetish pictures online. There was a cute little choker he’d wanted to add to his outfit, but worried that it might give off the impression he was already in a relationship, he’d chosen a short gold chain with a handcuff pendant instead.

As Danny passed low brick buildings with their windows dark and doors locked for the night, he reassured himself that he would be fine. The D/s community was welcoming. No one would laugh at him for being a newbie. He hoped. It might have been helpful to bring a friend along but this was something he preferred to do on his own. He wanted to walk into The Stocks without worrying about making sure his friend was comfortable. Or worse, being judged by them. That would be too much stress for his first public foray into kink life.

His head down, Danny focused on his footsteps, one foot in front of the other, determinedly taking him to the place where he’d finally connect with others who had the same interests as him. The streetlights reflected off the shine of his boots, the twinkling glitter making him smile despite his nerves. When the glitter abruptly dulled in sudden darkness, Danny looked up in surprise. The street light above him was out, and so were the next several, all the way until just before the club.

Danny slowed his steps, coming to a stop before he went too far past the last functioning light. During the day this was a decent area, mostly commercial, with busy warehouses and small office buildings. But at night it was a little sketchy. The dark alleyways between the old brick buildings could hide any manner of miscreants. Danny looked to the other side of the street where streetlamps glowed, safely lighting the path forward. He considered crossing to the lit side, but felt silly being afraid of a dark street.

Taking his courage in hand, he took several cautious steps forward into the darkness. Then up ahead, something crashed to the ground, the sound ringing out in the quiet night with a loud metallic bang. Startled at the noise, Danny stopped again. Abruptly deciding being silly and alive was better than stupidly brave and dead, he moved to cross to the other side of the street.

But before he could step off the sidewalk, two men strolled out of the alleyway directly in front of him. Danny knew from their red vests they were trouble. Only members of the L Street Posse wore those vests. Both men were big, one bald, the other with long, sandy-red dreadlocks. His heart pounding, Danny took a step back. Then another. And another. The two punks stood there watching him with matching evil grins on their scarred and brutish faces, but neither pursued. Danny understood why when he bumped into a wall of solid muscle. He whipped around and came face to chest with a big, blonde woman, her pale hair tied in a top knot so tight, the strands looked like they were about to be ripped from her scalp.

“Where you going, pretty boy?” she asked with a smug grin.

Instinctively understanding that showing fear would make this situation worse, Danny tried to keep his voice firm and confident when he answered. “I don’t want any trouble.” He held his palms up and out to show they were empty, while wishing he had his pepper spray in hand. Too bad it was on his keychain, which was inside his fanny pack. He belatedly realized that had been a dumb mistake on his part.

“And you won’t get any, as long as you hand over your wallet and phone,” she said.

Swallowing hard past the thick knot of fear in his throat, Danny nodded. He reached down to open the fanny pack, but struggled with the zipper thanks to his shaking hands and refusal to take his eyes off the big blonde so that he could see what he was doing.

“Let me help you with that.”

Danny spun back around when one of the punks behind him spoke, shrinking away when the man pulled out a switch blade and flicked it open with a menacing snick. Danny stood there, his fight or flight reflex stuttering over what to do, leaving him frozen as a result. The dread-lock punk came closer, getting right up in Danny’s face to grab the fanny pack with his free hand. His bloodshot eyes stared into Danny’s as he sliced up with the knife, cutting the strap so that it fell away from Danny’s waist. The guy kept the blade open and tossed the fanny pack to his buddy behind him.

“See what he’s got in there.”

Danny could have told him he didn’t have much. Phone, about thirty dollars in cash, his driver’s license, and his keys. The small bag wouldn’t hold much more than that.

“Take whatever you want.”

Knife Guy had broken their uncomfortable eye contact to watch his friend rummage through the fanny pack. Now he looked back at Danny with an appraising glance, running those bloodshot eyes from Danny’s face, over his chest, and down to his bare thighs. Disgust coated the back of Danny’s throat at the leering perusal, and he was suddenly very aware that his nipples were visible through the sheer tank.

“Whatever we want?” Knife Guy asked in a voice as smooth and slimy as an oil slick.

Danny should have kept his mouth shut. The ugly intent behind that tone was clear. He was now in more danger than only getting mugged. Thankfully, his fight or flight reflex finally made a decision, kicking his adrenaline into high gear. Danny turned, leaping off the curb into the street to take off running. His goal was the small diner a few buildings up on the other side of the street that looked to be open. His car was closer but since they had the keys, there was no point in trying to get to it.

The Red Vests hooted and laughed as they gave chase. Their glee increased Danny’s terror, spurring him on to run faster, until his foot slipped on one of the unevenly rounded cobblestones. He lost his balance, flinging his hands out to brace his fall as the ground came rushing up to his face. One knee hit the cobblestone with a loud crack, and a bolt of pain exploded out from the point of impact. Ignoring the pain in his knee and palms, Danny shot back to his feet, ready to keep running. But the Red Vests had already surrounded him, continuously moving, circling him like sharks before the feeding frenzy.

“Where you going, huh?” the bald one asked in a mockingly cheerful tone.

“Yeah. You said we could have whatever we wanted.” The blonde behemoth put on a playful pout but the expression quickly changed, her mouth twisting into a cruel snarl. “And we want to play with you, pretty boy.”

“Leave me alone!” Danny shouted. Terror and anger gave strength to his usually quiet voice, sending it booming throughout the night. He didn’t know how he was going to defend himself against three assailants, all bigger than him and armed with at least one knife, but he was damned sure going to try. Raising his fists, Danny got ready to swing at the first person who took a step toward him.

Before anyone could make a move however, electricity hummed in the air around them. The hair on Danny’s arms rose just as a rush of air whooshed behind him. He turned, expecting to see the blonde woman coming at him. But she’d disappeared, her place in the circle empty. Danny whipped back around to the other two. They looked scared; their eyes wide.

“It’s him,” Knife Guy whispered.

“Fuck, man! We need to get out of here!” Baldie tugged at Knife Guy’s arm, clearly ready to make a run for it.

“Calm down,” Knife Guy said as he shook off his friend. He scanned the darkness with narrowed eyes, looking for the new player on the scene. “There’s two of us.” He tossed that wicked-long blade back and forth between his gloved hands. “We can take him.”

If Danny hadn’t still been scared out of his mind, he would have grinned at the punk’s mistaken belief. If it was who he thought it was, they absolutely could not take him. The three of them stood locked in their positions, the air tense and sharp as they waited. There was another rustle of air, then a ground shaking boom as a man dressed all in black landed in a crouch between Danny and the punks.

Danny’s lips parted as he gasped in awe. It was him. The superhero. Blaze.

He rose slowly, straightening to his full height, which had to be at least six foot three. A skin-tight suit clung to his muscular frame, the material stretched over wide shoulders and powerful thighs. There was enough light for Danny to make out the midnight blue logo on his chest, a B cut through by a jagged shard of lightning. His head, neck, and most of his face were covered by a cowled mask, leaving only the space from just beneath his nose down to his chin visible. Bright blue bolts of electricity started to crackle over his fists, dancing up and down his arms. He turned to face the two punks and raised a hand, beckoning them forward.

“Let’s go.” He growled the arrogant taunt in a deep voice.

Baldie dropped the fanny pack and charged at Blaze. Danny’s belongings spilled out into the street but he was too busy watching the ensuing fight to pick any of it up. Blaze moved fast as lightning, avoiding the flashing switch blade and shrugging off the few blows the two managed to land. His own fists struck with deadly precision. Body shot after body shot. An elbow to Knife Guy’s jaw. A booted kick to Baldie’s sternum. Baldie crumpled to the street, gasping and wheezing as the air punched out of his lungs from the explosive impact. He stayed down, whether it was because he knew he was beaten or he simply couldn’t move Danny didn’t know.

But Knife Guy wasn’t as smart. He staggered on his feet but raised the knife high in the air. With a guttural yell, he charged at the hero. Blaze simply stood and watched him rush forward, his stillness a stark contrast to the punk’s messy scrambling. When Knife Guy reached him, Blaze effortlessly caught his raised arm and squeezed. A ball of bright blue power transferred from Blaze to Knife Guy, traveling down his arm. Knife Guy screamed, his body dancing against his will from the force of the electricity flowing through him. The knife fell to the ground, followed immediately after by its owner when Blaze released his hold.

Blaze stared down at his defeated opponents, the blue glow over his fists slowly fading into darkness. He grabbed Knife Guy by the back of his vest, dragging him along as he stalked forward to grab Baldie in a similar manner. One by one, he heaved them up against the front wall of a small warehouse, his muscles flexing with every move. The two sat there with their heads lolling, groaning and coughing. It was extremely gratifying to Danny to see them shrink back in fear when Blaze crouched down in front of them.

“You get one warning. Leave the L Street Posse. You won’t like what I do to you if I catch you on the streets wearing these vests again.”

Baldie made his decision without hesitation. “Yeah, you got it.”

“I’m out too,” Knife Guy said.

They struggled out of their vests, Knife Guy removing his with one arm. Once they’d taken them off, they tossed them into the street in renouncement of the L Street Posse.

“Good.” Blaze growled before he knocked their heads together.

They slumped into each other, unconscious, and essentially leaving Danny alone with Blaze.

His heart pounded as Blaze rose and approached him, although the reaction was no longer from fear. There were several superheroes in St. Louis. Danny had seen many of them, either on the news or in person if he happened to be in the right place at the right time. But Blaze was elusive, only fighting at night, never showing up when there was a crowd.

He’d seen a few pictures of him but they were always grainy and blurry, since Blaze didn’t stop to pose. And no one had any idea what he looked like, thanks to the mask that hid so much of his face. Seeing Blaze for the first time up close, huge and powerful, looming over his own meager five foot five made the breath catch in Danny’s throat.

“Thank you. I would have happily given them my money to get them to go away but things were about to get ugly.”

Blaze bent down to pick up the fanny pack and its spilled contents. He tucked everything back into the bag and handed it over. “What are you doing out here alone at night?”

The question was asked in a growl nearly as fierce as when he’d spoken to the L Street punks. It should have cowed Danny. But now that he was no longer in danger, a little of his sass came back. “You’re not about to victim blame me, are you?”

“No. But safety should be your priority and this area isn’t safe.”

“I was going to The Stocks. It’s right up the street from where I parked so I thought it’d be all right.”

“Inside that club isn’t much better than the streets outside. Try Club Decadence. Better parking, lighting, and security.”

Danny knew of the upscale D/s club but their membership fee wasn’t something he could afford on his income as an emerging freelance artist. “Decadence is out of my price range.” He said the words without shame. Facts were facts.

“Hmmm.”

The sound could have meant anything. Danny couldn’t determine Blaze’s expression from what little he could see of his face, and he couldn’t read his eyes in the darkness and the shadow of his cowl. He couldn’t even determine their color.

“Go home,” Blaze abruptly ordered. “Adrenaline drop is going to hit you soon. You need to be somewhere comfortable and familiar when it happens.”

A small trill of excitement shivered through Danny at the directive to go home. Delivered in Blaze’s deep, growly voice, it sounded like a command a Dom would give to a submissive. He wanted that so much. To have it from Blaze would be... He bit his lip to hold back the undignified whimper that wanted to slip free at the thought of submitting to Blaze. “Uh...yeah. That makes sense. Thank you again.”

Blaze nodded, the rest of him silent and still.

With nothing else to say, Danny started back the way he’d come, staying on the lit side of the street. As he walked, he thought he felt eyes on him, watching his progress down the sidewalk. But that had to be wishful thinking. Blaze undoubtedly had lots of other superhero stuff to do. He wasn’t hanging around to make sure a rando mugging victim made it safely to his car. The man had more than likely already swooped off to stop the next crime. Danny turned and looked back over his shoulder anyway. There was nothing there, the street and sidewalks empty save for the punks slumped against the building, enjoying their Blaze sponsored naps.

Danny reached his car, pressing the button on the key to unlock it as he had a hundred times before. Once inside, he secured his seat belt and started the ignition. But before he could put it in drive, his hands started shaking. He held them up, splaying them on the steering wheel. His stomach swirled with nauseous upset too.

Adrenaline drop. Exactly as Blaze had said. The fear response hormones drained out of him, and the throbbing pain in his knee and bruised palms rushed in to take its place. He’d been mugged, and much worse might have happened if Blaze hadn’t shown up. He was damn lucky all he had was a ruined bag, scraped palms, and a banged-up knee.

Danny closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths in through his nose and slowly letting them out through his mouth in an effort to calm down. After several long seconds of concentrated breathing, he was still shaky in the pit of his stomach, but settled enough to drive. Opening his eyes again, he finally popped the car into drive, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed for home.

∞∞∞

BLAZE STOOD GUARD from the rooftop of a low building while the cute little sub made his way back to his car. It was unlikely he’d be attacked a second time. The streets below Blaze had eyes and ears, and thanks to the fight, his presence in the area was known to anyone who might think of starting trouble. Still. Blaze wanted to be sure he was safe. He didn’t usually get personal with the people he rescued but something about the young man called to him.

He was adorable, with smooth dark skin, short, wavy black hair, and big brown eyes that gave him an innocent air. But his mouth, with its perfect Cupid’s bow and lush bottom lip, was made for decadent kisses. Blaze’s palms tingled and sparked as he imagined running his hands over the sheer tank the other man wore to feel the warmth of his skin beneath. And those little black shorts of his had displayed thick thighs and a perky ass that he would love to gently squeeze.

The sub was obviously unattached. He’d been on his way to a D/s club, but no Dom would let an angel like that walk the streets of downtown St. Louis alone at night. If the boy were his, he’d spank that sweetly rounded bottom for putting himself in danger. Then he’d kiss and caress it to take the sting away and make it all better.

But the boy wasn’t his. He hadn’t had anyone that belonged to him for a long time. And that was for the best.

Down the street, headlights flicked on. A few minutes passed before glowing red tail lights exited the parking lot, the car turning toward the highway. Blaze guessed he’d probably needed a moment to gather himself after his mugging. With the little sub safely headed home, Blaze turned his attention back to his task of patrolling the streets of St. Louis. He made a running leap onto the roof of the next building, tucking into a barrel roll to lessen the impact of his landing.

Ten years ago, Anderson Pruitt had selected St. Louis as the location for a massive base of operations for his company. The campus included research and development, production, shipping, and more. But before he’d moved Pruitt Inc. in, he’d demanded an initiative to clean up the city. It might have made sense to focus on offering jobs, as high employment helped lower the crime rate. A solid pay check, a safe place to live, and full bellies often took away the impetuous for crime.

But Pruitt had chosen instead to bring in a private militarized police force. Humans directed the force but it made heavy use of artificial intelligence robotic police. People caught by the police bots often disappeared without a trace. Sometimes they re-emerged months later, with no mention of a court date, refusing or unable to talk about what transpired during their absence. Sometimes they were never seen again.

The Pruitt Initiative hadn’t eliminated crime. It had stifled the city however, turning once vibrant areas into near police states, where the citizens were caught between their fear of the bots and their fear of the criminals who had smartened up and organized in order to survive in the new regime.

But tonight, the criminal element in this sector of the city was quiet. Over the next couple of hours, Blaze didn’t run into any other crimes, petty or otherwise. Deciding to call it a night, he began making his way back toward his car. He was nearly there when he came across two young men standing in front of an ATM operated by Pruitt Bank. They had tools in hand, which made it unlikely they were making an honest withdrawal. Blaze sent forth a bolt of electricity powerful enough to scare the guys into jumping away from the machine.

“Shit, it’s Blaze!”

The two tensed as if they were about to make a break for it. Blaze landed behind them before they could move. “Don’t even think about running,” he said as he held up one glowing fist.

“Come on, man. It’s Pruitt’s money. Not like he’s going to miss it,” one of them said with a bitter curl to his lip.

“Stealing is stealing. Doesn’t matter if you don’t like the person you’re robbing.”

“Guess it don’t matter if you’re hungry, either,” the other chimed in dejectedly.

Blaze took a closer look at the pair. Unlike the hardened muggers from earlier, these guys were young, their faces clinging to boyhood despite the wispy hairs trying to emerge on their chins. The resentment in their shadowed eyes struck a chord of empathy in Blaze’s chest. He let the electricity crackling over his fists fade. “There’s a job fair this weekend. Go to it.”

“Job fair?” The first kid scoffed. “Like anybody is going to hire us.”

Looking at the two youths, haggard and hunched, Blaze had to agree. Besides, if they were trying to rob an ATM because they were hungry, waiting to get a job, and then even longer for their first paycheck wasn’t going to solve that immediate problem. “Go to the red brick building on the corner of Kirk and Seventh. Ask for Mrs. Cannady. She’ll feed you tonight and set you up with whatever else you need to get ready for the job fair.”

Kid Number Two looked at Blaze with narrow-eyed suspicion. “Tonight? You mean you’re letting us go and not turning us in to the P-Bots?”

Blaze crossed his arms over his chest. “That depends on you. Are you going to try to rob another machine or are you going to do like I said?”

“We’ll do it. We’ll do it right now.”

“Right answer,” Blaze said. “I know your faces and the area you run in. And I will check up on you. Believe me when I say you won’t like it if I catch you trying to steal again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The two nodded with near-comical enthusiasm, their heads flopping back and forth like bobble head dolls.

Blaze acknowledged them with a small nod of his own. Then he sank down into a crouch, one foot slightly behind the other, gathering power to launch himself high into the air. He gave the kids below him a show, rising in a dramatic pose, the blue sphere of electricity around him burning bright against the back drop of the night sky. It served as something to tell their buddies about, and an unsubtle reminder of his power.

He traveled across several rooftops before dropping back down to the street where his car waited. Although he could jump twenty feet in the air and run faster than most humans, he wasn’t a speedster. He couldn’t fly either, so a car helped him navigate the city on his patrols.

Although the big, electric-blue Dodge Challenger sat unattended in an alley, Blaze didn’t worry about anyone trying to steal it. His high-tech alarm shut down all systems when he wasn’t inside, and locked the wheel base, rendering it immovable. And anybody who touched the door handles would get the shock of their life.

As he approached the car, it recognized the sensors on his suit and automatically unlocked. Blaze slid inside, disabled the rest of lock-down mode, and pressed the ignition button, bringing the engine roaring to life. A quick shift into drive and Blaze sped out of the alley, racing through the near empty streets until he left the riverfront area behind.

Taking one of the various routes he rotated through to keep anyone from tracking him, he headed home. After a few miles, he hit a button on the customized dashboard. Ahead on his right, the tree line opened up to reveal a narrow side road. He hooked a sharp turn and drove into the gap, the trees moving back into place behind him.

Blaze streaked down the dark, one lane road. As he passed over a section of pavement, the dash blinked, indicating a sensor on the undercarriage of the car had been activated. A section of the road detached, tilting down to a sub-terranean level. Blaze gunned it, his belly lifting as he swooped down the ramp that took him below ground. He continued down the tunnel for another mile, hurtling toward a wide, solid steel door. The car triggered another ground sensor, and the door slid open seconds before the Challenger slammed into it, immediately closing behind him with a solid thunk.

He slowed as the one lane road gradually widened and ended in a large, high-ceilinged underground room. Blaze turned off the ignition, and the rumbling engine faded to silence. He stepped out, the slam of the car door echoing in the cavernous concrete space.

The hour was late and exhaustion pulled at his bones, but he still went to his computer to log in the details from the night’s patrol. He spent a few minutes cross-referencing the new data with his files to check for any escalating patterns or ties to major crime bosses he needed to be aware of. The computer didn’t show any results, so he shut it down and moved to take off his gear.

Blaze tugged the cowl back, then removed his heavy, thick-soled boots. He carried the boots across the room to a glass fronted wardrobe, the cold of the concrete floor seeping through his socks to chill the soles of his feet. The boots went inside the wardrobe, followed by his two-piece suit. The glass door slid shut with a hiss, and a second later, the specialized steam cleaner kicked on, the glass fogging over as it removed the sweat, grit, and blood from the armored suit.

Naked except for a pair of tight-fitting boxer briefs, he strode over to the elevator, punching in a code on the lit keypad to summon it down to this level. Once he stepped inside, the elevator rose, swiftly taking him to the top level of the brick and glass building where he had the entire floor for his private apartment. He didn’t bother turning on any lights, he moved through the dark rooms with ease on his way to the shower.

A few minutes later, he was clean, dry, and ready for a few hours’ sleep. Clad in a pair of black, low-slung pajama bottoms, Jordan strode over to the floor to ceiling windows, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. From there, he could look out over a great deal of St. Louis. In the distance, the Gateway Arch rose, towering over the city, a beloved and beautiful monument. But the cold steel was immobile, lifeless, and unfeeling. The Arch couldn’t do anything to keep the citizens safe. It was up to him to help those in need.

His thoughts returned to the guy he’d saved from a mugging earlier. Daniel Griffin. He’d seen his name and address when he’d picked up his driver’s license from the street. There was one more thing he could do to help the young man out, and hopefully keep him from returning to the rough area of The Stocks. He’d take care of it, then put the little sub out of his mind for good. An angel like that didn’t need a man like him in their life. His role was to protect from the shadows, so that people like Daniel could live in the light without fear.

Continue reading BLAZE. Available on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited!

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