Nightingale by Jennifer Estep

I could do to help him. I wet a washcloth and gently pressed it to Talon’s injury.  
    The second I touched him, the superhero drew in a sharp, ragged breath.  
    Although I couldn’t see them, I got the distinct impression his eyes snapped open. I didn’t have any time to react or move. Talon jerked up and latched on to my wrist.
    Then, he yanked me into the tub with him.

 
    Chapter Five
     
    I didn’t just fall in. I plunged all the way in—fully submerged. Water forced its way into my mouth, my ears, and worst of all—up my nose. Water going up my nose was an excruciatingly painful and ticklish sensation now that I had supersenses, almost like inhaling liquid fire.
    I flailed upward, breaking through the surface, coughing, sneezing, and sputtering water all over the superhero.
    “Who are you? Where am I? What happened?” Talon demanded, thrashing around in the oversize tub.
    Somehow, despite his injured shoulder, the superhero grabbed both my hands and pulled me toward him until I lay against his slick chest. Damn, he was strong, even for a mere G-man.
    “You got shot by Bandit in the alley. I was there. You asked me not to call the police, remember?” I asked, trying to squirm free so I could push my wet hair off my face.  
    Talon’s gripped tightened on my wrists. “Bandit!” he hissed. “Do you work for him? Or Tycoon?”
    “Of course not!” I snapped, trying to pull back again but was not successful.
    It was more than a little strange to be trapped in a tub full of warm water, especially when I was not so gracefully straddling a very wet, very naked, very excited superhero. One with acres of muscles—everywhere. Muscles I could feel through my waterlogged clothes. I couldn’t help but get a little excited myself. All right, a lot excited. Lust at first sight was a powerful, powerful thing.
    “You got shot. Before you passed out, you told me not to call the cops, so I didn’t. But since I didn’t want you to freeze to death, I brought you to my apartment so I could clean you up and see how badly you were injured. That’s all. I swear.”
    Talon stilled. The rest of the night must have come back to him because he nodded and let go of my hands. I used the opportunity to scramble off his lap, careful not to knee him in the groin. I stumbled up out of the tub, water dripping out of my hair and pooling on the floor.  
    Talon reached up and rubbed his temple. His fingers stilled, and the superhero realized two metal bars encased his head—which meant I’d tried to take off his visor.  
    “I wanted to see how bad your eyes were,” I said in a defensive tone. “That’s why I tried to remove your glasses, not because I wanted to know your secret identity. Although from the shock I got, I’d say nobody takes off those glasses but you.”
    A faint smile curved Talon’s lips. “That’s the idea. They’re programmed to accept only my DNA.”
    “Well, it’s a good one. My fingers are still tingling.”
    My toes were too, but I think that had more to do with Talon being naked than with his electro-shock visor.
    Talon chuckled. “Who are you?” the superhero asked, his voice now more curious than harsh.
    I opened my mouth to respond, but thought better of it. I’d wrapped a superhero in a garbage bag, dragged him down several city blocks, shanghaied him into my apartment, stripped him naked, and tried to take off his visor. This was awkward enough already. Did I want Talon to know who I really was? Chances were he was some rich businessman who did the superhero gig for kicks in his spare time. Some suave society playboy who’d be at the majority of events I planned. One who’d secretly think of me as a superfreak, while I had no clue who he was—or that he was laughing at me behind my back.
    No. I was definitely not telling Talon my real name.
    “Tell you what—why don’t I just call you Talon, and you can call me … ”
    My eyes flicked around the bathroom, as if an anonymous name