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Her Superhero Lover: A BWWM BBW Billionaire Superhero Romance Page 2
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Page 2
“What’s the extra half hour for?”
Renee smiled and tapped her fingers on the desk. “Got some new stuff, straight from Korea. The club owner is letting me work it into the last set, but that means a long second set to make sure the crowd is hot for the night.”
“I gotcha. Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
The director came over, checking if they were ready, and their conversation stopped. The shoot went quickly, and by the time the clock reached four in the afternoon, the entire shot was wrapped up. Renee was impressed, she had expected it to go until dark like a lot of shoots she’d been on. Grady’s decision to fire the director had paid off. As everyone was wrapping up, she pulled off her wig. Grady, who was approaching, paused as he saw the red streak in her hair. “Whoa. So is red your thing?’
Renee laughed and ran her fingers through the long extension. “Well, it is this week. Bang Bang is going with a red motif, and they’re my highest paying gig. Besides, it coordinates with my outfit.”
“Really? I’d enjoy seeing that.”
“Come on by Thursday and you’ll get a chance.” She was about to say something else when Grady’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his suit coat pocket. He talked to the caller for a minute, then hung up, shrugging his shoulders. “Business?”
“Always. Anyway, it was a pleasure meeting you, Renee. And I promise, I’ll do my best to come by Bang Bang on Thursday.”
Renee watched him walk out of the bank, shaking hands and thanking most of the crew, disappearing into the warm San Diego afternoon to climb into a Lotus sports car. Kristy, who had changed out of her commercial shoot clothes and into a jeans and a t-shirt that said “USNA” on it, jogged her elbow. “He’s cute. And he looked into you.”
Renee shook her head and lightly guffawed. “You must be crazy. That man has enough money and looks to get anyone he wanted. There’s no way he’s interested in a girl from the Heights like me. I just wonder if he’ll actually come by my set, or if he was just being nice. I’ll count it as a win if he comes by.”
“You never know,” Kristy replied. “You never can tell.”
Chapter 2
Renee took a deep breath and blew it out, emptying her stomach as much as she could. “All right Lin, ratchet it.”
“You sure?” Lin, one of the staff at Bang Bang asked. “You going to be able to do three sets with it cinched like this?”
“I’m sure. Besides, it looks tighter than it is, the fabric’s got some give to it.”
“Okay, if you say so.” The pretty brunette pulled, and the laces on the back of Renee’s corset pulled more. There was a moment when the pressure was almost too much, but Renee held out, knowing that the knot Lin used would slip a bit as she tied it down. When the slip came, and then Lin finished the bow knot, she took a shallow breath, fighting the urge to gulp down air. “Okay, that’s all set.”
The key to breathing in her DJ gear, Renee had learned, was slow, calm breaths. The tight black satin and vinyl bustier and corset over her stomach served two purposes. First, the leatherish dominatrix look played well with her forte, and gave her a unique appearance that blended steampunk with dystopian science fiction well. Secondly, and in her opinion more importantly, she looked great in it, her body having an hourglass look, she rarely had a chance to feel like it had in real life. When the black corset was matched with the blood red tight pants she was wearing tonight, a waist length wide lapeled jacket and her trademark goggles (tonight rocking ruby red lenses to reflect the motif), she felt transformed, from normal everyday Renee Williams into Litezout, her stage name. Feeling her heart slow down from the effort of holding her breath, she turned to Lin, who was shaking her head and grinning. “Thanks Lin. I know you think I’m nuts.”
“Renee, the patrons come in and pay to listen to your mixes and dance their asses off, not to ogle you. You’re behind the table for all except thirty seconds each time. Why the hell do you put yourself through this each time?”
Renee thought about it for a moment, then answered honestly. “Up there Lin, it’s really weird. I’m both the center of attention and totally anonymous. But because of that, I can be that sexy girl that I just don’t feel like when I go down to the beach or out to the mall. I think I told you, the last guy to take me out was to the Del Mar Fair, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I felt like I was going to the fair with a buddy, not a guy who wanted me. We weren’t even on the second ride and I felt like I was in the friend zone.”
“That’s what you get for dating just black guys. I keep telling you, find yourself a good Latino like I got, and they’ll be all over you. They know how to appreciate a woman with some meat on her bones.” The manager called from the back, and Lin turned her head. “Okay, gotta go. Good luck on the set tonight, hope it all goes down well.”
Renee fixed the rest of her outfit, making sure her boots were comfortably tied before heading out to the main floor of Bang Bang’s, which was dominated by the huge disco ball that hung overhead. Going up on the stage, she double checked her equipment, making sure every bit of it was fully connected and ready to go. Tapping away at the keyboard of her old Macbook that powered all of it, she was barely aware when the manager came up to talk to her. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, looking good,” Renee said. “How’s the lighting and everything tonight?”
“Good. Standard controls, you can set it based off your BPM’s if you want. We just got a call, there’s some VIP’s expected tonight. Seems they heard about your act, and wanted to catch what you’ve got. Just wanted to pass that along as a congrats.”
“You get a name?” Renee asked, thinking back to Grady Voelker and his comment three days ago. “Just for curiosity’s sake.”
“None at all. Just that some VIP’s might be by. Don’t even know when they might be coming in, so keep your eyes open. If the door staff can, they’ll send a runner up here with a head’s up.”
“Thanks.”
The manager went off, and Renee did her final checks. The doors opened, and for about the first hour things were relatively quiet. Bang Bang, in addition to being a popular nightclub, also sported some pretty good food, and caught a lot of the late dinner crowd. She relaxed for most of the time, playing some light dance music with no remixing to let those who wanted to groove after visiting the gastro pub work off their oysters on the half shell.
Starting at ten though, the lights dropped, and Litezout took over. The giant disco ball started rotating, and red lasers bounced off the surface, with the club getting more and more packed. Renee launched into her first set, starting off with electronic heavy dance before progressing into heavier bass mixes. If it had been a Friday or if she had been in a club more known for their hip hop, she would have nixed some of her selections, but she was glad to work at Bang Bang. Despite Lin’s comment about only dating black guys, Renee felt like she was anything but the stereotypical “black girl.” Her music tastes ranged from Wu-Tang to Swedish House Mafia, and she even sometimes mixed in stuff from before she was born. She’d had great response a few years back to when she had remixed Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” during the whole “Rick Roll” fad.
It was around ten thirty that she saw Grady Voelker make his way through the crowd, and she stumbled for just a second. Hitting the wrong button, her reverb shot way up for a second before she readjusted. The crowd didn’t seem to mind however, they were pretty hot for a Thursday night. Recovering quickly, she kept on with her set, although she kept one eye on Grady the whole time.
He was easily the most handsome man in the room, and he was dressed perfectly for the scene, not too trendy so as to come off as a party freak, but not so conservatively as to be a stiff poser. Instead, he carried himself with an easy confidence and gait that could have made him look good if he had come in wearing sweat pants and a Chargers t-shirt. It was the personality that carried with it a natural magnetism, and Renee felt more than a little bit of jealousy as every beautiful single w
oman in the room seemed to make their way over to him. It reminded her of an anecdotal story she had heard from a friend of a friend in the DJ business about Leonardo DiCaprio. Leo had walked into a trendy club in Miami, and less than a half hour later walked out with twenty five girls for a private party. It had caused quite a few laughs over the phone line when she’d first heard the story.
Grady Voelker had that same sort of magnetism, she thought, watching him in the crowd. He could have held up his hand, circled it, and taken a third of the room with him, all women in tight skirts, sexy tops, or dresses that showed a ton of leg. What surprised her was that he didn’t. Instead, he kept circling, like a satiated lion just patrolling his savanna, relaxing the whole time. He stopped by the bar and spoke to Lin, who was behind the counter at the time, and while Renee couldn’t hear what was being said due to her headphones, she could see Lin point towards her, and then say a few more things. Grady nodded his thanks and made his way back into the crowd. She watched him make his way towards the front of the room, people parting for him like he had an invisible force field that just gently moved others aside at about a foot away. Soon, he was at the front of the room, almost within touching distance of her table on stage. Renee was glad the speakers in Bang Bang were in the ceiling, or else Grady would have been deaf by the end of the set.
Checking the clock on her laptop, she saw that it was time for one last song. She pulled out one of her favorites for Bang Bang, a remix of LMFAO cross mixed with the South Korean group Bangtan Boys. The familiar beat caused a few of the Bang Bang regulars to cheer loudly, and she threw herself into it, letting it all go. Using her controls expertly, she blended the two songs for the next eight minutes, until her fingers were tingling and her forearms ached from the quick changes of her switches. Wrapping it up with a clash of drums, she brought the lights up to the applause of the crowd. “All right Bang Bang, the party’s not done, but this DJ’s going to need to get some refreshments. So hang tight, cause in thirty minutes, it’s Litezout one more time.”
Switching it over to a standard dance playlist she used for her break periods, she made her way off stage, where the manager was waiting for her in the back with a bottle of cold water. “You’re perhaps the only DJ I know who doesn’t take advantage of our free drink policy,” the manager said as Renee sipped at the Evian. “Why is that?”
“I want the second and third sets to be just as good as the first,” Renee replied. “And I don’t handle alcohol very well. Unless you don’t mind a third set filled with junior high love ballads.”
The manager laughed, his laughter dying off as he looked behind Renee. She turned, and saw Grady standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Up close, she could see he was even more handsomely dressed than she had seen in the club. “Hi.”
The manager looked at Grady, then over at Renee, then back at Grady before shrugging. “I’ll give you guys some quiet. Just remember, your next set starts in ten minutes.”
“I gotcha.” She waited until the manager left then turned to look at Grady. “You cut quite the figure out on the floor. To be honest, I was a bit surprised you came by. I thought you were just being nice the other day at the shoot.”
“Not at all,” Grady replied, coming closer. He stopped when he was about a foot away, and Renee had to look up to see him, even in her high heeled boots she wore with her outfit. “I came because you were helpful and interesting to talk to at the shoot, and because I was intrigued by the description of your show. When I did a little online research, you’ve gotten some great reviews. After all, when the San Diego Weekend calls you one of the top five DJ’s in the area, and that we should catch your act now before you are snatched up into LA or New York, I figured I couldn’t go wrong. I was right.”
“Well, thanks,” Renee replied, feeling her face flush. She was glad for her dark skin tone in times like this, it hid blushing very well. “But that was just the mainline set. I get to really show off the next two sets. You going to stick around? I mean, you must have work tomorrow, and banker’s hours and all.”
Grady gave her a small, confident smile and shook his head. “I’m the owner, I think I can call for a long weekend if I want to. Besides, I have a very good executive assistant who can probably run the whole company better than I can. I wouldn’t miss these other sets for the world. Can I ask, will you be back here after the other sets?”
“Sure, I normally take my breaks back here. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I look forward to the other sets.”
Motivated by knowing Grady was watching, Renee’s second set went even better than her first. As she mixed and revamped her songs, she kept an eye on Grady, whose presence, more than ever, was magnetic to every attractive woman in the crowd. The first set always had professionals and couples who were out for a night on the town, which while fun meant they were somewhat restrained. By the second set however, most of the working professionals had gone home, and the crowd was younger, wilder, and mostly single. With serious party people in the audience, Renee had to respond with even more, driving the tempos in both directions. It was her specialty, she felt, knowing when to take it into a electronic dance frenzy, and when to take it down into something bass heavy and sensual. She thought some of the beats and tones she used bordered on erotic, which is exactly where she wanted to keep it. While she hadn’t felt much action over the past few months, that didn’t mean she didn’t understand the need for the people in the audience to find that sexual release, or to bring people together.
As the songs went on, she saw more and more bodies touching, skin brushing skin as hands went under shirts or legs came into contact with one another. Still she noticed, Grady Voelker kept pretty much to himself, dismissing most of the women who came his way with a polite yet firm refusal. She even saw a couple of the regulars, girls who were cheerleaders for the San Diego State squad hit on him, and he just shook his head with his smile and turned them away. It was both interesting and surprising. She wondered if she had read him all wrong, and perhaps Grady was gay? She’d never seen a man have so many high quality women practically throw themselves at his feet and not pick up at least one or two for later.
She was so wrapped up in wondering about Grady Voelker that she lost track of time. Usually, she used the last ten minutes of her second set to bring the sexual tones out and take it back into a lighter, more casual mix for a general party. However, she was surprised when her clock said she had only three minutes left on her second set. Figuring to just go with it, she took the sensuality to a whole other level, one she usually reserved for the few private parties she had played where clothes normally ended up on the floor before the last song was completed. When the last note played and the lights came up, more than a few bodies were crushed together in foreplay on the floor. “Well, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me,” she joked as the crowd gathered itself. There wasn’t as much applause this time, but instead a hunger, an appreciative look in their eyes that told her most of the group was too distracted to worry about polite applause. She wondered how much the club would clear out for her third set, and how many couples would wake up the next morning in unfamiliar beds. “Give me ten minutes, and we’ll have the last session of Litezout.”
In the back, the manager was waiting for her again with another drink. “Holy hell woman, you trying to get people naked on my floor or something?” he asked, half upset and half aroused. “Horny customers don’t stay and drink.”
“Sorry, I just ran with it and lost track of time,” Renee admitted. “Look at it this way though, if a few lucky people hit it off, they’ll be back next time they want some luck.”
“I’m just glad Marines are working tomorrow, and Miramar is flying,” the manager replied. “If we’d had fifty Top Gun guys up in here, there’d have been more sex than I could cover and keep our business license. You bottle that up and sell it in a drink form, and those beats would put Viagra out of business.”
“Like I said, sorry. At le
ast the third set should be easier. More pure party, less freaky deaky.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I liked the freaky deaky,” Grady said from the doorway. The manager looked up, thought about saying something, and decided against it. “By the way, I just bought your entire club a round of whatever they want, on me. Think your bartender can get me the bill?”
“Of course, Mr. Voelker,” the manager said, his mood brightening. “Ah, no offense, but can we settle it at the end of the night?”
“Settle it now,” Grady replied, fishing out his wallet and handing the manager an American Express Black card. “I’m sure you can run this for whatever it needs.”
The manager and Renee’s eyes grew wide as the black titanium card glimmered in the light. Renee had heard about the card, anyone who had listened to enough hip hop had heard everyone from Kanye West to Nikki Minaj mention it. But she’d never seen one before. The manager handled it like it was a holy relic, and nodded. “Okay, sir. I’ll have this back to you within five minutes.”
“No rush,” Grady said with a smile. “I’m sticking around for the third set. Just bring the slip back here after the third Litezout set, and I’ll be happy to sign it along with a healthy tip for your staff.”
The manager nodded and almost stumbled away, still carrying the card in two hands like it was made of precious metal. Grady watched him go, then shook his head and turned back to Renee. “I know this sounds a bit strange, but I don’t really understand it. It’s a credit card. You swipe it the same way you swipe any other card in the world.”
“True, but any other card in the world can’t exactly run up a ten thousand dollar bill or more without the company even batting an eye,” Renee replied. “Hell, my credit card company freaks out if I put more than a hundred bucks on it at one time.”
Grady nodded, and looked a bit chagrined. “Sorry, guess I didn’t think about that part. But it’s just easier and safer than carrying around that much cash. And in my opinion, looks a lot less pretentious. Only pimps, gangsters and wanna be moguls carry around thick wads of cash that big any more. Oh, and drug dealers. I’m not any of those.”