Her Superhero Lover

Chapter 4

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 s*x 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.