AG

I made the executive decision to give Nova a few days off, even though I couldn't stay away from the studio myself. The moment I walked in the next morning, the place was already bustling with energy. The smell of weed from the night before, creating an atmosphere that was as alive as the beats echoing through the halls. The sound of music, a symphony of creativity, filled every nook and cranny of the building.

I strolled through the reception area, nodding to the interns who were already hard at work, their eyes glued to their screens. The sight of the mail pile on the desk caught my attention. A stack of envelopes was addressed to Nova, and the sight made my chest swell with pride. She had become the golden child overnight, and everyone wanted a piece of her. I grabbed a few of her letters, feeling the weight of her newfound stardom in my hands.

As I made my way to my office, I couldn't help but smile to myself. She was going to need her own personal assistant at this rate. The thought of her creating a DJ tag, a unique sound bite that would announce her presence on every track she touched, was intoxicating. It was time for the world to know that the Super Nova wasn't just a myth—she was real and mine.

Once inside, I spread the letters out on my desk, skimming through them. Each one contained a proposal for collaboration, a testament to her growing reputation. Her talent was magnetic, and the industry couldn't resist the pull. I knew she was feeling the weight of it all, but she had me to keep her grounded and remind her that she was more than just a name on a tracklist.

I picked up the phone, dialing her number with a smirk. "Hey baby," I said when she answered, the sound of her voice immediately making my day better. "I've got a surprise for you."

"What is it?" she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

"I want you to start working on your DJ tag," I told her, my voice filled with excitement. "You're going to be a household name, and I want everyone to know it's you behind those beats."

"But Artis, I don't know—" she began, the usual hesitation in her voice.

"Don't argue with me," I said, my tone firm but playful. "You're coming in, and we're doing it together."

I could hear the smile in her voice when she agreed. "Okay, I'll be there soon."

I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, my mind racing with ideas for her tag. It had to be something that encapsulated her essence, something that would make people stop and listen. It had to be powerful, like her.

When she arrived, the sight of her took my breath away. She walked in like she owned the place, and in a way, she did. Her white T-shirt dress hugged her curves like a glove, revealing the outline of her thong. She paired it with a high-cropped denim jacket, and the AG chain around her neck glinted in the studio lights like the diamond it was.

Her hair was a wild halo of coils framing her face, and her signature ball cap sat atop her head at a jaunty angle, hiding her eyes but not her confidence. The oversized CAZAL frames perched on her nose completed the look. She looked mouth-watering. She looks like that pussy taste good.

Her eyes swept the room, taking in the setup before landing on me. "Ready to make some magic?" she asked, her tone challenging.

"Always," I replied, gesturing for her to enter the booth.

We danced with ideas about the tag, playing with different sounds and beats until we found the perfect combination. Her creativity was boundless, and I watched with pride as she brought her vision to life.

The door swung open, and Romie and Krossroads entered, their energy spilling into the room. "Nova BayBay!" Krossroads said, a knowing smile on his lips. The two made their rounds with daps, handshakes. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his greeting.

This muh'fucka

"I heard you been tearing it up," he said, his eyes sparkling excitedly. "You the talk of the town, baby girl."

Nova blushed under the attention but held her ground, her confidence growing stronger with each passing moment. "Thanks, Kross," she said, her voice steady. "I've had some great inspiration lately."

Her gaze flicked to me, and the unspoken words hung. We both knew where her inspiration had come from—11 inches. I gave her a nod of encouragement, silently telling her to shine.

I leaned back in my chair, watching as Nova took the reins. "I want something that's going to make people feel something," she said, her eyes alight with determination. "Every time they hear it, I want them to remember who's behind the track."

The room grew quiet as she approached the microphone, her hips swaying with an almost predatory grace. With a smirk playing on her full, glossy lips, she leaned in, her lips dangerously close to the metal. I felt a shiver run down my spine as she whispered, "You're now experiencing Supernova," her voice dripping with the same sultry promise that had me ready to fuck her mouth again.

The words hung in the air, a siren's call to all who dared to listen. She had a way of speaking that could make a man's knees buckle, and she wielded it with the finesse of a seasoned seductress. Her fingers danced around the mic, teasing it as if it were an extension of my body.

With a flick of her wrist, she turned the mic on, the red light blinking in time with the erratic beat of my heart. She began to play with the sound, her voice dropping to a purr as she experimented with the reverb. Each echo reverberated through the room. "You're now experiencing Supernova," she repeated, her voice a symphony of sex and power.

My eyes were glued to the glass separating us, watching as she moved with the music, her body a canvas painted by the strobe lights of the studio. The way she leaned into the mic, her full lips curling into a knowing smile, it was like she was whispering sweet nothings directly into my ear. I felt my dick twitch in my pants, demanding attention.

I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to the soundboard, tweaking the levels to capture the essence of her voice. She picked up on the energy shift, her eyes snapping open to meet mine, a silent question hanging between us. I nodded, my voice steady. "Again, but this time, make it sound like ...they have been begging for it, and now you're finally giving in and about to present it to them." A bashful smile widened on her face. She nodded.

Her eyes darkened, and a challenge was accepted. She leaned in closer to the mic. Her eyes fluttered close. "You're now... experiencing... Supernova," she purred, the space between the words a sultry invitation. The sound washed over me like a wave, my body responding almost primally. I bit my lip to stifle a groan, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my temple.

My hand hovered over the soundboard, eager to play with the controls like a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire. I added a hint of reverb to wrap her voice in an ethereal embrace. "One more time, baby," I murmured, the endearment slipping out without thought. She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

The studio was our playground, the music our language of love. She repeated the phrase, the reverb echoing around her words, making them sound like they were coming from every corner of the room. "Perfect," I managed to say, my voice a gruff whisper that belied my self-control. Her smile grew, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of her mouth as she knew she had nailed it.

With a click, I saved the take, my pulse racing. The air was thick with tension, which comes before a storm, charged with electricity. "That's it," I told her, trying to keep my cool. "Let's take a break." But as she stepped out of the booth, the energy between us crackled, a live wire waiting to be touched.

I leaned in, my voice a whisper that was just for her. "Do I get to experience... Supernova?" The words danced in the air; a secret shared between lovers, a promise of passion awaited us later. Her eyes widened, a flush spreading across her cheeks as she realized my meaning. "Artis," she breathed; the sound of my name on her lips was sweet music to my ears.

The studio had gone quiet; the only sound was the faint buzz of the equipment. The others had the good sense to pretend they weren't watching us, but I knew they felt it too—the raw chemistry that could power a small city. She bit her bottom lip, a gesture that never failed to drive me wild. "Only if you behave," she teased, her voice a playful caress.

A smirk tugged at my lips. "Behave?" I challenged, my eyes darkening. "You know that's not my style." "Damn, get a room, yah." Romie quipped.

Nova giggled and laced her arms around my neck. I took the opportunity to plant the softest kisses along her jawline, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. The room cleared out as if on cue, the others in the studio giving us a knowing look before retreating. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving us in a bubble of our own making.

"You are so addictive," I murmured, gazing into her eyes. They sparkled like stars in the night sky, a universe of desire and passion I was irrevocably drawn to. My hands caressed the soft skin of her arms. "You are my drug of choice," I said gently. She leaned into me, her breath warm against my neck, and whispered, "I love you."

The words were like a key unlocking a door, the pent-up tension between us spilling out in a rush of need. My hands found their way to her ass, squeezing the firm flesh, our bodies melding together. "Say it again," I demanded, my voice low and insistent.

Her eyes searched mine. "I love you, Artis," she said with a confidence that sent a shiver down my spine. It was a declaration of war against the fears and doubts lurking in our hearts' shadows. She had claimed me with those three little words, staking her claim in a way that left no room for doubt.