Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance (6 page)

It was minutes later, when she still felt like her body was jelly
and her muscles couldn't do anything, that Grady carefully lifted her
up, carrying her into the house. She could feel sleep taking over her
as he laid her between cool silk sheets, curling behind her and
pulling her close, kissing her temple as sleep overtook her.

Renee woke up the next morning feeling like she was still dreaming.
She was alone, but the silk sheets were still real against her skin.
The early morning sunlight came through the window next to her was
real, although it was diffused by a curtain so as not to blind her.
Her body had the languid, wonderfully relaxed feeling she'd long
missed, one that came only after really good sex in her opinion. The
only thing that made it feel like less than a total fantasy was the
fact that she woke up alone. If it wasn't for the location, she'd
have sworn it was all just a dream. "Grady?"

She wasn't sure where he was, but rolled over, stretching on the
bed. As she did, her hand brushed against a piece of paper on the
pillow next to her. Grabbing it, she saw it was a note from Grady.

Dear Renee,

Last night was.... amazing. There's no other word to describe it.
Unfortunately, after our going to bed, I was struck with insomnia,
which is something that does happen from time to time with me.
Instead of waking you with my tossing and turning, I decided to go
for a workout (if you want to use my home gym, feel free. It's in the
garage). By the time I was done the sun was starting to come up, and
I had to get ready for work. I'm sorry about that, as I do have a
meeting with an outside investor that I can't exactly slough off on
my assistant.

I had a wonderful evening, seriously. I didn't want to wake you,
you looked so peaceful as you slept, and I didn't know what to do, so
I just decided to let you sleep. I know this sounds weird, but if you
want, you can have the run of the house today, or if you need to go
back to your place I totally understand. I didn't leave you in a
lurch, the keys to the Jeep are hanging next to the kitchen sink (for
business, I normally take the Lotus). Also if you need some clothes
to change into, I'll admit there isn't much, but I think I do have
some old t-shirts and shorts my Mom sent me recently from back in
junior high school in the spare bedroom in a box marked "Grady's
stuff." Knowing Mom she washed and pressed them all, so they
haven't been shut up in a box for the past decade before shipping
them. You're free to help yourself to whatever fits.

I do hope you can give me a call sometime this morning. I should
be free sometime around nine thirty. Whether you decide to hang out
today or go home, I do want to see you again. It was the best date
I've ever had.

Affectionately,

Grady

She was touched by his note, which was written in a clear, masculine
hand that still carried a touch of grace and style to it. She thought
about her options for the day, and decided to stick around until she
could at least call him and see what he was thinking. Sliding out of
bed, she found a very large (well, Grady was nearly a foot taller
than her) bathrobe lying on a chair next to the bed. Her clothes were
underneath, neatly folded and stacked for her use if she wanted to.
Deciding against them for now, she slipped on the robe instead.
Tightening the belt, she looked around and found the master bathroom,
blown away again at the understated richness of the room.

It was Grady Voelker's style, she had come to understand. Instead of
ostentatious gilt faucets or flashy gold flecked marble tiles, the
room was done in rich, creamy tones, like you would expect in many
other Southern California homes. However, every piece was top of the
line quality, with faucet handles that had the innate heavy weight of
good design, even if she couldn't recognize the brands. The
countertop was slightly warm, she thought by some sort of electrical
system, and even the toilet was one of those Japanese ones that had
about a dozen different buttons attached to a remote control that
could do everything but wipe your backside for you. Stepping into the
shower, she was enveloped in rich, luxurious steam and a downpour of
water from three different spouts. In water conscious California, it
was the height of luxury, and she wondered how he did it, even with
all of his money.

"I guess it doesn't really matter," she said quietly,
enjoying the rich lather and wonderful fragrance of the soap. She
washed her body from head to toe, then dried off using a towel so
thick and absorbent it felt like even the lightest of passes over her
skin left her dry and glowing. On the counter she saw he had a
dispenser of skin cream, which she used to moisturize and protect her
sensitive skin. It was just as high quality as every other thing
she'd experienced in his house, and left her feeling baby smooth
without any of the greasiness she normally associated with skin
creams.

Heading into the hallway, she found the spare bedroom with the box
"Grady's Stuff" sitting on the queen sized bed. It was
simpler than the master bedroom, but still rich and luxurious. Inside
the box she found a shirt that read "HTM PE" across the
front. Shaking her head at the fact that Grady was exactly who he had
said, she slipped the old shirt on, finding a pair of comfortable
shorts inside that fit nicely once she rolled the waistband once.
Looking at herself in the full length mirror on the other side of the
room, she chuckled and shook her head. "Look at you, already
dressing like a girl with a boyfriend," she said, laughing.
"Enjoy it while you can, I guess."

In the kitchen, she saw more evidence of Grady's understated wealth.
The knives that hung from the magnetized rack were German, and looked
sharp enough to do surgery with. The copper bottomed pots that hung
from the hooks set into the wall were equally impressive, and she was
at a loss until she opened the cupboards, laughing as she saw that
she and Grady shared the same taste in breakfast cereals. Pouring
herself a large bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, she splashed on milk
before sitting down at the divider that doubled as a bar, switching
on the small flat panel TV she saw there.

"And the White House said they expect the trade negotiations to
continue on schedule," the news anchor said on screen, shuffling
his papers. "In a bit of local news that is starting to make
national headlines, a local underground hero, once thought the realm
of gang legend and myth, may in fact be real. Action Five reporter
Maria Mendoza, has details. Maria?"

The anchor's face disappeared, and a shot of one of the worst
neighborhoods in San Diego flashed on screen. "They call him The
Horseman," the reporter said in a voice over. "For the past
year or so, a scourge on the criminal underworld of San Diego county
has been cleaning up the streets. Given credit for dozens of
incidents, street gangs in the county have taken on almost a
superstitious fear of this figure. Few members of the gangs we spoke
to were even willing to say The Horseman exists, and those that do,
insist on having their faces and voices disguised."

"He's huge, like around six and a half feet tall," a
disguised voice and scrambled face said in a darkened room. "He
came down into our neighborhood, coming down off a rooftop or
something man. By the time we had even pulled our first gun, he had
three dudes laid out. I swear I emptied a whole clip at him, and it
didn't do nothing."

The reporter's voice took over, cutting to a shot of a police
officer. "Detective Ernest Lomax of the San Diego Police says
that while the Department is sure there is some form of vigilante
action going on, the stories his team have heard are too unbelievable
to be true."

"Some of the people we've brought in, they've said things like
he's knocked down a steel door with a punch, and that he grabbed a
car with his bare hands and stopped it from speeding off. Now, while
we can understand some of the stories coming out, some of them are
most likely the delusions of gangsters who were more than likely
drunk or high when the incidents occurred. While we appreciate the
help, The Horseman has also committed serious felonies in doing what
he has done as well."

"That is the dark side of The Horseman, and what earned him his
nickname from the local criminals, a play on the Four Horsemen of the
Book of Revelations," Mendoza continued. The shot changed again,
this time to her standing on a street in one of the poorer barrios of
San Diego, in front of a taped off section of sidewalk. "In
addition to over a dozen people put in the hospital, local gangs are
blaming The Horseman for at least two deaths of high ranking street
gang members. These normally untouchable leaders have found
themselves targets of The Horseman, and last night was another
incident."

The scene cut again to a shaky cell phone video, with Mendoza taking
over narration duties. "This video was taken this morning at two
fifteen. In it, you can see five suspected members of a gang
affiliated with the MS-13 group fighting with a man in a red and
black suit. The result of this fight left all five gang members in
the hospital, two of them in critical condition."

Mendoza appeared back on screen, her face and voice serious. "When
Action Five was given this footage, we immediately turned it over to
the police. However, we also turned it over to our national
affiliates to see if it could be enhanced or in some way worked with
to give us a better image of what this Horseman looks like."

The image changed again to a computer enhanced freeze frame of the
fight. A bit of animation moved the figure, and isolated The
Horseman. "From what our national experts tell us, The Horseman
is between six feet and six foot four, and in the neighborhood of two
hundred and thirty to two hundred and forty pounds. He's extremely
muscular, and is obviously in top physical condition. He has pale,
almost platinum blonde hair, and is most likely a Caucasian male. Due
to his eye mask and costume, there are no other identifying marks
about The Horseman that can be made at this time. In any case, it
looks like San Diego may have our very own costumed vigilante. In
Lincoln Park, this is Maria Mendoza, Action Five News."

The anchor reappeared, going on to local sports news. Renee shook
her head and shut off the TV, thinking about the story. A real life
vigilante in San Diego? She'd expect some whacko to get dressed up
and pull stunts like that in Portland or maybe Berkley, but San
Diego? She hadn't thought there were enough weird folks like that
around the city for it to happen. In any case, she doubted it would
last for long, as The Horseman would most likely find himself on the
wrong end of a Glock before too much longer. She finished her cereal
and washed up the bowl, setting it in the drying rack for later. As
she did, her mind kept flashing back to the computer enhanced image
of The Horseman. He looked a lot like Grady, she thought, minus the
hair which was so much blonder than Grady's light brown it looked
almost platinum. Still, The Horseman had the sort of muscularity that
she had seen on Grady, and he moved with the same liquid grace. She
laughed at her own self-delusion. "Come off it girl. Just
because he's ripped and gave you the best sex of your life, does not
make Grady Voelker a superhero," she joked, heading back towards
the back porch.

Along the way, she found Grady's
bookshelves, and selected a light novel that she'd been interested in
for a while. She was happy that he had real books, there was
something about the feel of real paper under her fingers she
appreciated. She was on chapter two of what had turned out to be a
pretty decent light adventure novel when she next looked up. Nothing
mentally stressing, but she hadn't picked up the paperback expecting
to read
War and Peace
.
Setting the novel aside, she watched the waves break out on the sand,
when suddenly the thought occurred to her, she'd had sex on the table
of this very patio the night before. While it wasn't quite like
having sex on the beach itself, the porch was a bit more public than
she would have expected, and she shivered at the memory. Grady awoke
a primal need in her, one that left her almost unable to control her
actions, and it was something she needed to come to grips with.
Thankfully, he had been nothing but respectful and considerate of
her. She knew it would be too easy to be taken advantage of with as
much as she felt last night.

Turning her eyes back to the ocean, she decided to relax and enjoy
the warm sunshine, when the phone inside rang. Thinking of the time,
she saw it was nine forty seven, and she wondered if it might be
Grady. The caller ID didn't show a number she knew, but the title
said "office," so she was pretty confident. "Hello?"

"Good morning, beautiful," Grady said, his rich voice
flowing into her ear and making her smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Almost perfectly. It could have been better to wake up with
you still holding me, but I understand, and thank you for the note."
She took the cordless handset back out onto the porch, where she
could keep watching the waves. "How was your meeting?"

"Good," he replied, and she could hear him shifting
around. She imagined him in an office, wearing a starched white shirt
and red tie, his suit jacket hung up on a hanger behind the door. She
wondered what the rest of his office looked like. She expected it was
utilitarian, but still top of the line, like almost everything else
she'd seen from him. Then again, with that Lotus, maybe his business
persona was more playboy. She wanted to find out. "So does this
mean you're sticking around for the day?"

"I was thinking about it, and decided to make a decision after
you'd called. I'll be honest, I've found a good book, and figure I
can't leave until I know how it ends. I'm just that kind of person,
you know."