Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 96: Why are you poking it

"What happened, Kael, isn’t the food tasty? Why are you poking it?"

Freya’s voice cut through the silent Haven, warm but laced with concern, her blue eyes narrowing as she leaned across the dining table. frёeωebɳovel.com

Her damp platinum-cyan hair hung loose, shimmering under the soft glow of the overhead bulb, her cyan t-shirt clinging to her curves, navy blue pants fitted her perfectly.

Kael blinked, his hazel eyes snapping from the steak he’d been nudging with his fork, his dark tee and jeans rumpled from a day of chaos. His grin was faint but warm, a flicker of appreciation breaking through his haze.

"No, it’s tasty," he said, cutting a piece and chewing, the rich flavors grounding him, a small comfort in his storm. "Really good, Freya. I can feel it melt in my mouth like butter."

Her lips curved, pride flashing in her blue eyes, but her gaze sharpened, catching the dullness in his slumped shoulders.

"Then why’re you so off? You’ve barely said a word." She set her fork down, leaning closer, her voice softening. "Is it Rhea?"

Kael sighed, his fork clinking against the plate, his hazel eyes shadowed as he met her stare.

"Yeah, Rhea’s part of it," he admitted, his voice low, heavy with the day’s weight.

"Everything’s falling apart. Rhea’s team got shredded—Harris disbanded it after the Haunter Twins tore through them. She’s out of commission, and I’m flat broke." He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, frustration etching lines in his face. "The Haven’s hanging by a thread, Freya. I might have to go back to massaging backs to keep it going."

Freya’s expression softened, her blue eyes steady, searching his.

"You don’t have to do that," she said, her voice firm but kind. "I can give you money, Kael. As much as you need. Call it my rent for staying here, or payment for... everything you’ve done. You’ve pulled me out of a dark place. Let me help."

Kael’s grin returned, wry but genuine, his hazel eyes meeting hers, a spark of pride in their depths.

"If I took your money, it’d taint everything," he said, his tone light but resolute, his pride a quiet fire.

"It’d mean I’m only rehabbing you for cash, not because I believe in you. Or in this." He gestured vaguely at the Haven, its walls a testament to his mission. "Taking your money would feel like admitting I failed. And I’m too damn stubborn for that."

Freya laughed, a soft, melodic sound, her blue eyes glinting with amusement and something deeper—respect, maybe, or understanding.

"Stubbornness is gonna get you in trouble when times are desperate," she said, her voice teasing but earnest, her fork twirling in her hand. "My offer’s on the table, Kael. Anytime, no questions asked. I’ve got enough from my old life to keep this place running for years."

Kael’s smile widened, gratitude warming his chest, a rare moment of vulnerability between them. "Thank you," he said, his voice quiet, sincere, the weight of her offer a lifeline he couldn’t quite grasp.

They ate in companionable silence for a moment, the clink of cutlery a soft rhythm, the steak’s warmth a fleeting comfort.

Freya took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, her blue eyes drifting to the window, where the evening sky deepened to indigo. Suddenly, her gaze snapped back, a mischievous glint sparking, her lips curling into a wicked grin.

"You know," she said, her voice low, playful, "I’ve got a way you can make money. A fun way."

Kael raised a brow, his fork pausing mid-air, his hazel eyes narrowing with cautious amusement. "Oh, yeah? What’s that?"

She leaned forward, her cyan t-shirt shifting, her elbows propped on the table, her grin downright devilish.

"I’ll pay you a hundred dollars every time you make me come," she said, her voice a velvet dare, her blue eyes locked on his, daring him to flinch. "No limit."

Kael stared, then burst into a chuckle, his hazel eyes dancing, expecting a serious plan but finding her jest instead. "Here I thought you had a real idea," he said, shaking his head, his grin wide. "That’s your grand scheme? Turning me into your personal pleasure bot?"

Freya’s laugh was bright, unrestrained, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "What? I’m dead serious," she said, her tone half-teasing, half-seductive, her foot nudging his under the table, a playful brush of her toes against his ankle.

"Start right now, Kael. Get under this table and put that tongue to work. Hundred bucks, easy money." Her grin widened, her blue eyes sparkling, the Haven’s quiet amplifying her boldness.

Kael’s chuckle deepened, his voice dropping to match her mischief, a playful edge creeping in. "If I wanted easy cash, I’d tie you up with that binding rod," he said, nodding toward the living room, where the rod’s metal glinted in a bag.

"Hook up that bullet vibrator, maybe a few others, and turn you into a cumming machine. I’d make thousands a day without breaking a sweat."

Freya’s head tipped back, her laugh ringing out, her platinum-cyan hair catching the light. "That doesn’t sound half bad," she purred, leaning closer, her voice a sultry whisper. "So, should we get started after dinner? My room or yours?" Her eyes held his, a challenge wrapped in heat, her fingers brushing the table’s edge, as if itching to pull him closer.

Kael shook his head, still grinning, his hazel eyes warm but distracted, his mind already churning for real solutions, the weight of his broke reality dulling the spark.

"Tempting, but I’ll pass," he said, his tone light but firm, steering them back to safer ground. "Gotta figure out how to keep this place afloat without turning it into a brothel."

Freya smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mock disappointment.

"Your loss," she said, popping a carrot into her mouth, her chew deliberate, teasing. "But I’m holding you to that cumming machine idea. Sounds like a plan for later."

They finished dinner, the plates nearly clean, Freya’s cooking a small triumph in a day of setbacks. Kael stood, gathering the dishes, but paused, his boots scuffing the floor as he glanced toward Rhea’s room.

"I’ll check on her," he said, his voice low, a flicker of worry in his hazel eyes.

Freya nodded, her expression softening. "Go. I’ve got the dishes."