Authors: Danielle Houston
Big Girls Rock!
* An Erotic BBW Romance*
©Copyright 2013 by Danielle Houston
Amazon Kindle Select Edition (Revised)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
This is a work of fiction intended for Adults (18+) only.
(The material found in this e-book contains sexual explicit situations and is intended for mature audiences only)
All persons portrayed in this e-book are 18 years of age or older.
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Big Girls Rock
©Copyright 2013 by Danielle Houston
Amazon Kindle Select Edition
The music was loud and the crowd rowdy. It was a typical night at
The Dirty Thirty
. I'd worked here a long time and loved it. The bar boasted spirited regulars, live bands, and a huge dance floor to shake your booty. The tips weren’t half bad either. The drunker people became, the more they tipped. This night started out just like any other. I was behind the bar serving drinks, and some jerk was bugging me.
"Can I get a Coors?" I smelled him before he spoke. Axe body spray, cigarettes, and beer breath are a pungent combo.
"Bottle or Tap?" I slung my towel over a shoulder and took my bad-ass stance. That usually kept the guys in line.
"Tap.” His greedy leer made me nauseous. I needed to get rid of this guy, and fast.
I pulled the beer and gave him the glass. Without warning, he reached over the bar and touched me. "So, you busy later?"
I removed his greasy paw, "I don't date anyone from the bar. There are lots of girls here tonight. Ask one of them out."
"Oh come on, don’t be like that." He reached for me again.
I yanked away. "No, I'm not interested."
"You ought to be glad that I’m paying attention to you at all.”
I locked eyes with him. "I may be big darling, but I'm not desperate." Then I went back to fixing drinks. He mumbled something under his breath and walked away. Yeah, he was a real charmer. Because I'm a size eighteen guys assume I’m easy. They learn fast, nothings further from the truth. My name’s Candi Newton. I’m a twenty-five year old bartender from Oakland California. People always tell me, “You have so much confidence!” It wasn’t always like that.
One day I woke up and decided that I was somebody. From then on I never looked back. I wanted to get out there and live! I also discovered my love of singing. I was afraid to perform in front of people for a long time. Then one night I sang at “The Dirty” on a dare. It was the best decision ever. Before long, I was working at the bar and performing. Last year, the local newspaper even did an article on me titled, “Candi, The Rock 'n Roll Bartender.” My boss had it framed and placed on the wall.
"Hey girl!" my best-friend Jen shouted. Then she dashed behind the bar and gave me a big hug. We’d known each other since high-school. When she came back to town, I got her a job here at
The Dirty Thirty
"So, are you going to sing tonight?" she asked me.
"If the crowd asks for it," I shook my hips.
"Honey, you know they will!" she snapped her fingers. That's what I like about Jen she was sassy. Tonight was “Band Camp.” That's when different performers got on stage to do their thing. I was a house favorite. I didn't have a band of my own, but I'd been known to join whoever was brave enough to play.
"Come on Candi you gotta sing," Jen grabbed my wrist in a vain attempt to pull me from behind the bar. I was about twice her weight. There was no way I was going anywhere I didn't want to.
"Get your ass up there!" Frank gestured from his seat at the end of the bar. My boss, Frank Nelson, was a big guy and few people argued with him. In reality he was a pussycat, but I liked to pretend that he scared me.
"Yes sir," I gave him a mock-salute. Jen pulled me towards the stage and I hopped onto it. There was a band of nervous kids up there. Their faces brightened when I walked up. I grabbed the mic and did my thing.
The Dirty Thirty
!" I screamed. When the crowd recognized me they went berserk. Then someone started a chant of:
Sing, Sing, Sing
. Soon the entire bar joined in.
"Alright I'll do it." I loved nights like this. The crowd was raring to go. Jen's voice piped up loud above the din, “Hit Me with Your Best Shot!" Not to brag but that’s my signature song. A little Pat Benatar should start the night off right.
"Are you guys sure you want to hear that?" I asked. They screamed a loud encouragement.
"Alright then, you twisted my arm," Then I told the kid holding the bass, "Dude, I sure hope you know this tune. Because if you don't this gang will eat you alive!"
The scrawny kid gripped his instrument, "We were kinda hoping to play some original stuff."
"Trust me," I pointed at him with the microphone. "If you don't play it, you're not going to get to play anything else."
"Don't worry we know about this place," a strange confidence emerged on his face. "We made sure we learned some of the oldies.”
Oldies? These kids today had no respect for the classics. I screamed, “Hit it" and to my surprise this inexperienced band didn't miss a beat. The intro and key were perfect. I sang the hell of that song like I always do. At heart I'm a rocker girl, always have been always will be. I sensed the crowd loved it and I hammed it up to please them. I know I’m bigger than average. But at size eighteen, I shook my ass like we were having an earthquake. When we finished the crowd went absolutely nuts. I stepped off the stage and went back behind the bar. On the way, I'm quite sure more than one guy copped a feel of my ample backside.
As I poured drinks, a deep masculine voice spoke. "You're a fantastic singer, Candi.”
An Adonis swaggered up to the bar. He was over six feet, with dark hair, and the most striking blue eyes. He wore a sleeveless shirt and fashionably ripped jeans. His exposed arms were well muscled and tanned. Holy mother, his pants hugged him tight enough to see his religion. I spotted a dragon tattoo on his upper shoulder. Sex and trouble radiated from his eyes.
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," I rested my arms on the counter.
"This place is fun," he replied. "It's been awhile since I've been in Oakland."
"Oh, where are you from?" I tried hard not to stare at his crotch, or his amazing biceps.
"I live in L.A.”
"What you do there?" I said.
"Oh, nothing special." He smiled at me again, and I swear I went slack-jawed.
"I could never live in SoCal… too hot." I used a rag to wipe the counter down. I was definitely trying to play it cool.
"Is it okay to buy the singing bartender a drink?" He leaned in and raised an eyebrow.
"As long as you don't tell my boss!" The truth was I’d already had at least three free drinks. One more wasn't going to hurt.
"Shots alright?" He pulled out his wallet.
"Jaeger?" I replied.
"Perfect,” and he smiled, revealing movie-star white teeth.
I poured a shot for him and one for myself. “Ready?”
“I was born ready,” He grinned wide. Yes, I bet he was.
“1... 2... 3... drink!” I shouted. With that we both downed the Jaeger shots. I smacked my lips and slammed the shot glass down.
"So," he asked. "Are you doing anything later?"
“I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Nick,” The corners of his eyes crinkled.
“Well, Nick it’s nice to meet you.” I folded my arms across my chest. “But I make it rule not to date anyone from the bar.” Sure this guy was hot, but I knew better. No good could come of flirting with him. Nope, no good at all.
“But I’m not from the bar...” he smirked. “I’m from L.A.”
I was waiting for this. It was time for my standard polite brush-off speech. This was going to hurt me a million times more than him. But it had to be done.
"I can’t. Why don’t you ask one of the other girls here out?"
"I'm already talking to the prettiest girl in the room." He stared at me with those irresistible blue-eyes. Okay, that took me off guard. I was used to a lot of things but genuine sweet talk wasn't one of them. "I'm really flattered," I told him. "But the first rule of bartending is not to shit where you eat."
"You lost me there," he was confused.
"What I mean is... I’m not going out with you. "
Crestfallen he simply muttered “Oh” and disappeared into the crowd. Did I hurt his feelings? But I knew how these things went. A hot guy like that and a big girl like me couldn’t be anything but a crazy one night stand. You know one of those stories that starts;
I was so drunk last night!
A few minutes later I heard some commotion. The band from earlier had been doing pretty well. So when the music stopped I was surprised. Tattooed guy hopped on the stage, and he was talking to skinny kid. What in the hell was he doing? The music started, and he grabbed the mic. Holy crap, was he going to sing? This crowd will tear him a new one. The melody drifted out into the bar, it was “Dream On”.
Aerosmith, hmm a good choice,
I thought. It was one of my favorite songs. Then he opened his mouth and magic happened. This bar was a rock 'n roll type place, lots of shouting and screaming. So a ballad wasn't normally what the crowd went for. But this guy’s voice was like honey, every note absolutely perfect. As he sang, my thighs tensed and I bit my lip. There was no denying it, he was turning me on. He’d glance my way and my knees buckled. I wanted to look elsewhere, but his voice mesmerized me. When Nick finished the crowd went nuts. Every woman in the place was eyeballing him, and there was lots of whispering. Something was up, but I wasn't quite sure what. Jen tiptoed behind the bar, and then grabbed my arm. She spoke in a hoarse whisper, "Ohmigod! Do you know who that is?
I had no idea what she was talking about. “No, who?"
"That's Nick Ortiz!"
"Nick Ortiz?" I didn’t know what the big deal was.
"He's the star of that TV show, Harmony."
"What?" The name sounded very familiar but between working days in the dress shop and nights at the bar I didn't have much time for T.V.
"It's only like the biggest hit television show ever!" Jen was absolutely giddy. "I can't believe he's in our bar!"
“You mean the one about the glee club?” I vaguely recalled something about a show that centered on a gang of talented misfits. It was the kind of thing I slept through after crashing in front of the T.V.
"So did you like the song?" Nick had returned to the bar.
"It wasn't half bad. You're pretty good."
Jen's eyes widened, "Pretty good? He’s Nick freaking Ortiz! He was amazing" Behind her tough exterior beat the heart of an excitable thirteen-year-old girl. Before I knew it, Jen and a crowd of women had him surrounded. This was great time to take a break. I grabbed my purse and headed outside. I pulled a cigarette out, lit up, and leaned against the brick wall. The alley behind the bar was the perfect place for a little peace and quiet. So, a Hollywood Star had visited our hole in the wall! No one ever said my job was boring. He'll probably take some groupie home tonight and bang her silly. That would be good, and then he’d be out of my hair. I didn't notice there was someone behind me until he spoke.