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Sommer Marsden

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Jaqueline has sold her pricey perfect pumps to see her favorite band, Splitting Cells, and maybe meet her dream guy, the hunky lead singer. She doesn't expect to meet a nightmare instead of a dream, or a blue-eyed giant named Clive, or the whole macho throwing punches thing, oh, and some toe-curling sex. Jaq finds out that sometimes reality's better than the dream. CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX & LANGUAGE

PUBLISHED BY: Sommer Marsden
CATEGORIES: Erotica, Chick Lit/Hen Lit, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fiction
KEYWORDS: back stage passes, bands, bouncers, concerts, encounters, erotic, erotica, fear of heights, giant, lead singers, masturbation, orgasms, punches, security,

EBOOKS BY Sommer Marsden

EBOOKS BY Sommer Marsden

COPYRIGHT Sommer Marsden/2009

The man who examined their badges was humongous. Big did not begin to cover this guy. Gigantic, maybe. Tall like a tree with a dark brown buzz cut. He had sunlight on the ocean blue eyes and a tattoo on his thigh sized forearm. A flaming bird. The phoenix. “Looks good,” he said. His eyes took her in from head to toe and then back up again. Jacqueline could practically read his thoughts.

“I know. I’m not your average Splitting Cells fan am I?”

The huge man shrugged and tried to look noncommittal. Instead, those staggering blue eyes took another lazy tour of her. Brown flat boots, beat to hell and back. Tights, red skirt, loose flowy white blouse. She had worn her hair down and loose, white blonde tendrils bleached out by the summer sun at the beach framed her face. Jacqueline felt the blush return and her nipples, tiny traitors, spiked under her sheer top. She prayed the behemoth would not notice and be amused by her.

“No such thing as average if you ask me.”

“That is a very nice tattoo,” she said. God. How stupid was she? As if this monstrous man cared that she approved of his body art.

He regarded it lazily. “Thanks.”

“It’s the Phoenix right? Any symbolism?” She wanted to bite her tongue or cry. He had cleared her. Why was she not bolting up past him at break neck speed. She glanced and Bridget was still with the other man, her pass being inspected meticulously.

He shrugged. Massive shoulders moved up and down. “I made some mistakes when I was younger. This is to remind me to not fu-, to not screw up again.”

“Ah. Very nice.” For whatever reason, she felt a flutter of attraction at him editing his language for her.

The other bouncer was done with Bridget and he gave a cryptic nod to her own personal giant. “I’ll take them up,” he said and Jacqueline couldn’t help but notice a sparkle of what felt like excitement buzzing in her lower belly. Way, way low in her belly. Technically, it was her pussy. The blush grew hotter and she averted her eyes. He was so damn tall that averting her eyes landed them level with the faded button fly of his jeans. And he looked to be packing. “This way,” he said on a chuckle and took her arm.

He had caught her. God. Mortification ran like a brushfire through there body. She had been caught penis peeking.

Bridget snorted laughter and followed. Her shoulder brushed Jacqueline’s as they followed the bouncer. She noted on his badge that his name was Clive. She liked it. And she liked his tight little ass in his…

“Hey! I thought you were here for Drake. Looks like you have a thing for Mr. Chatty.”

Jacqueline wanted to smack her. She could tell that Bridget was barely containing her laughter. Instead of reverting to a cat fight, she smiled. The biggest fakest smile ever. “I am just wound up. I’m sure it’s a rush of hormones.”

“Or those jeans. Man. He don’t say much but then again, he doesn’t need to.”


“Oh, don’t go all high and mighty on me now. Besides, judging by his reaction, Gigantor has a thing for you.”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up!” Oh my god. His shoulders were shaking. Was he laughing? Had he heard?

“Ladies,” he said and let them proceed.

“Oh, a spiral staircase,” Jacqueline said. “Is there another…uh. Is there possibly a…” She felt woozy just looking at it. Thanks to a nasty slip on a wet wrought iron staircase as a kid, she was deathly afraid spiral stairs and heights. She’s had a concussion and a broken ankle and now a healthy fear of the things. She did fine going up large staircases and escalators and elevators as long as she couldn’t see the ground receding. But just like her childhood nemesis, these steps were ornate iron work and you could see through them.

“Nope. Elevator is out. This is it. It’s an old club. Used to be a movie theater for the silent films.” Clive looked amused, confused and interested all at once.

“So, the only way to Drake Wellington is up these steps?” Bridget leaned against the banister as noisy laughter and a riot of music drifted down from above.

“Yep. What part of ‘only way’ are you two ladies not getting?” It was a good natured jibe, though. Not nasty. But Jacqueline still felt like crying.

“Oh that is rich,” Bridget laughed. But then the laughter left her face and the pity came. “Come on, kiddo. I’ll walk in front of you and the Jolly Green Giant here can walk behind you and between us we’ll get you up there.”

“She afraid?” Clive asked in a very soft voice. He didn’t seem to take offense to Bridget’s name calling or her in-your-face personality. If anything he looked sympathetic and concerned.

“Deathly. Like you would not believe. She will die a thousand deaths and never forgive herself if she gets this close to meeting Drake and the rest of the band and wusses out. It would be too much for her.”

“Let’s go then,” he said. He took a step toward her and she felt that buzzing deep in her center again. Like her vibrator only more intense. More…real

“I can’t,” she breathed. Her eyes welled up with tears and though she was embarrassed, she couldn’t help it.

Big, big Clive leaned in and kissed her. A soft, tender, yet invading kiss. The kind that had her lips parting for him almost immediately and had the crotch of her tiny panties wet in seconds. “Shut your eyes,” he said into her mouth.

“What?” She had somehow managed to wind her hands around his thick warm neck and she was letting his tongue track slow circles around hers. Jacqueline wondered what she would do if they were alone. Would her clothes be off already? Probably.

“I said, shut your eyes,” he whispered and pulled back. He was trying to focus her attention away from her fear. It was working.


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