Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance

BOOK: Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance
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Her
Superhero Lover
Will he be the one to save her?

A complete superhero romance for adults, story contains no cliff
hanger.

For Renee, life is hard.

A DJ and a part time model, making ends meet in San Diego is a full
time struggle.

Despite being constantly active, nothing much exciting ever happens
to her... that is until she meets Grady.

A billionaire and a very eligible bachelor, he could very well be the
thing which brings back some excitement in her life.

But Grady has a secret.

Despite his respectable appearance as a bank owner and business man,
at night he moonlights as the vigilante known as the Horseman.

Soon Renee's is caught up in intrigue, adventure, and an erotic
gathering of forces that promises to shake the very foundations of
her life.

But will she survive long enough to enjoy it all?

Find out in this super sexy hero romance by Lionel Law of Shifter
Club.

Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll wish you
had super cooling powers.

Tip:
Search
Shifter Club
on Amazon to see more of our great books.

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Copyright
©
2015 to Jane Rowe and SaucyRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can
be copied or distributed without written permission from the above
copyright holders.

Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

Chapter
9

Chapter
10

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Chapter 1

Renee sighed as she listened to her agent talk. She'd heard all of
it before, it didn't really change.

"Renee, you know that while your face is a mover, the facts are
simple. You're short. No designer is going to hire a model that is
five foot five. And you're too heavy to be a pinup. The girls who are
a hundred and forty pounds that pose for men's magazines are all five
eight or more, with about eight pounds of that being artificial tits.
At your height, you need to have a tight body that says you can rock
a guy's dick all night long with stamina." Martin Clemmons was
her agent, a retired model who had busted out as a photographer
because he apparently had a better eye for making connections than he
did for lighting, although he didn't even have a great eye for that
either, considering his office was in San Diego rather than Los
Angeles or New York. Still, he was her agent, and tried to get her
jobs.

On the other hand, he talked like a pig most of the time. Renee
rolled her eyes. "Jesus Christ Martin, just because you're gay
doesn't mean you get to talk like a total horndog. I got the message,
you've been telling me ever since I came to you six years ago."

Martin scowled and ran his hands through his stylishly coiffed hair.
"Yes, and I keep telling you because you're still young enough
to make some serious money for both of us if you'd get your weight
down. You've got one of the most hypnotic sets of eyes I've ever
seen. I mean, you could get me to like women with eyes like yours.
But, instead of working mainline shows or stuff, you're stuck doing
local spots and modeling eyeglasses for LensCrafters. You're twenty
four, Renee. That window of opportunity isn't going to last much
longer, especially for a darker skinned black woman like yourself."

"I know, I know. Hey, you have any tea or coffee?" Renee
was bleary eyed after having been up for the past twenty hours. "I
had to work a show last night, and the club owner had me on set until
two in the morning."

"Sorry, no dice, just OJ. You know, it is the summer time.
You've got all the UCSD and the San Diego State kids on vacation, and
two ships just came back into port for the Navy, on top of the normal
tourist trade. I'm surprised you actually have time for trying to
find work with me at all. How is the DJ trade?"

"Better than modeling," Renee admitted. "With the
club lights low and me behind the tables, I've yet to have anyone
call me fat like you do all the time."

Martin spread his hands, not apologizing but also showing he meant
no offense. "Honey, by model standards you are. I'm not talking
if you're able to pull dick on the regular. You probably are getting
more than I am."

Keeping her thoughts on the matter to herself, Renee decided to
change the subject. "So you said you had a job for me. What is
it?"

"Sun Cliffs Credit Union is doing a new campaign, both
magazine, newspaper and some TV spots. I know the photography
director, he owes me a favor. Think you can be downtown tomorrow
morning not looking like you just dragged yourself out of a club just
before dawn?"

Renee sighed and rubbed her temples. "Yeah, I can do that. I'm
clear for tonight anyway. For some reason, most of the clubs I play
all have Mondays as Country night. No thanks."

"I gotcha. Listen, go back to your place, get some shut eye,
maybe catch a workout this afternoon, and sweat out a few pounds.
Show up tomorrow at nine at this address," Martin said, sliding
over a page from his printer, "bright eyed, bushy tailed, and
ready to act your ass off."

On the way back to her apartment, Renee thought about the direction
her life was heading. Martin was right, she was twenty four, and the
modeling career was going nowhere. Sure, it made some decent side
cash every once in a while, but she couldn't see herself being in any
national level magazines, and the idea of doing film work made her
laugh. She knew Martin wouldn't even be keeping her now, except that
he too needed every client he could get.

Maybe it was time to jump full bore into her DJ career, she thought.
She was good, she knew that. Starting by working just a few weddings
and the occasional family reunion, she'd climbed the ladder, working
high school dances, then the occasional small club. Now she had a few
of the bigger clubs in San Diego booking her, and she'd even fielded
the occasional call for a gig in the Los Angeles area. If she could
break into the LA scene, she knew the sky was the limit. She also
knew the music scene was fraught with dangers. Acts that could be hot
one month were working the bar mitzvah circuit six months later. At
least by staying in San Diego, she could establish a strong local
presence that might not make her rich, but would put money in her
pocket for a long time.

"Not that my pocket is very deep as it is," she sighed,
looking at her apartment building. Located in the City Heights
neighborhood, it was a forty year old building with a pool that
looked like it hadn't been cleaned since Bill Clinton was president.
On the other hand, it was just down the street from a bunch of little
restaurants that were pretty cheap. Her favorite was a Mexican place
that served
barbacoa
burritos
that probably had more than a little to do with her weight issues.

She walked in and locked her door, tossing her bag onto her old
couch, and considered what to do with the rest of the day. She knew
she should be making calls, trying to book some more DJ slots, or
maybe returning that call to the guy in Studio City who wanted to
talk about her doing a music festival around Christmas time
(honestly, who throws a dance party at Christmas?). However, sleep
was more important, and she felt like a zombie. The rumpled sheets
called to her, and she answered, heading towards her bedroom.

*****

"Wow, you're early. That's a rarity."

Renee didn't like the director of the photo shoot from the
beginning. She had that sort of condescending tone that said she
thought her opinion was the only one that mattered, and she'd be a
tyrant on the set. Still, she'd dealt with people like this before in
the industry. It was eight in the morning, and she was at one of the
branches of Sun Cliffs, which had been closed for the day to do the
shoot. "Well, I didn't want to hold you guys up. Where would you
like me?"

The director looked her up and down, chewing her well glossed lower
lip. "Well, first head over to makeup. Tell me, is that your
normal hair color?"

Renee patted her hair, with her red extensions that she'd had put in
two weeks ago. The blood red streak went all the way down to her
shoulder over her right ear in a three inch wide stripe. "They're
extensions. I have a DJ gig that is doing a lot of red on the motif
right now."

"Hmmm.... well, maybe wardrobe has something that can cover
that. Worse comes to worse, I guess we can position the shots to stay
mostly on your left side. All right, well, get over to makeup and
wardrobe, and get ready. We're supposed to start in a half hour."

Thankfully, the wardrobe people had
a wig she could wear. It itched like crazy, but made her look like
what the photography director wanted. The suit they'd gotten for her
was actually well made, and fit her frame well. She thought the skirt
was just a bit tight across her hips, but the director thought it
gave her a bit of sexiness to the otherwise stoic outfit.
Not
that it matters
, Renee thought
as the director stormed away to yell at a lighting grip about
something.
I'm supposed to be a loan officer. I'm sitting
at a desk most of the time.

Just then, someone came in
the bank, catching Renee's eye. Tall, she judged him at least six
three or six foot four, he was obviously one of the other actors. His
body was amazing, even through the expensive Italian suit he was
wearing, and his face was simply gorgeous. With piercing blue eyes
and light brown hair, he looked like the sort of man that Oscar De La
Renta would drool over to have walk the Paris runway for him. Hell,
he'd give a young Brad Pitt a run in the looks department.

"Mr. Voelker!" the photography director said, coming over
and shocking Renee by practically simpering at the man's presence.
"Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to
do the shoot today. And of course, for letting us use your bank for
the whole day. We could have set up a stage you know."

Renee missed Voelker's reply, she was too shocked. This guy was the
owner of the bank? He didn't look much older than her. How'd a guy
who was in his twenties get to be the owner of an entire bank?
Turning her eyes away, she looked in the mirror in front of her while
the makeup artist went back to work. "Who is that guy?" she
asked as the artist applied some foundation.

"Grady Voelker," the artist replied, fussing over the
shininess of Renee's cheeks. "He's the owner of the
multi-national that just bought this place. He lives in San Diego
too, I heard. Grew up in Imperial Beach. Handsome, isn't he?"

Renee snorted at the understatement. "You think? That man could
be on an IMAX screen looking like that, and nobody would bat an eye."

"Got that right. Okay, I got the cheeks, the wig's in place,
and your suit looks perfect. You ready to rock?"

"Hey, it's all voice over stuff, right? I just have to mime it
all?"

"That's what they told me. Although, I think Voelker has a few
lines at some point."

Renee nodded. "Then I'm ready to go."

The shoot started right at nine thirty, and as she suspected, the
photography director was a total tyrant. There were four other people
involved in the shoot besides Renee, a white woman and man that were
supposed to play your typical suburban middle class family that was
seeking a loan from Sun Cliffs, a Asian girl who played a customer at
the walk-up counter, and a middle aged white guy that was supposed to
be the counter clerk. She didn't know anyone else, and with the
stress and domineering nature of the director, she barely had time to
even have a nodding acquaintance with the other actors, other than
the pair that was supposed to play the couple she was working with.
The woman, who had just enough tan and tilt to her looks to make her
look Hispanic enough for the large Latino demographic of the San
Diego area, was actually from North Dakota. Her name was Kristy. "I
just do this to have fun while my husband's at work," she
confided in between shots while the director yelled at the Asian
girl. "He's in the Navy, out at sea for another few months."

BOOK: Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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