Rocker (Rockstar BBW Romance)

Rocker

(
Rockstar BBW Curvy Romance)

by
Laura Demare

 

Copyright© 2013 Laura Demare

 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

1

 

“April, I need you for a second,” Kenny’s nasal voice came from aisle 8. I sighed. I looked around for help. It was almost 3am. The store was a ghost town, I was alone with Kenny, and you can bet he knew it.

 


Ap-ril,” he said in a sing-song tone, “I need you.” I headed toward the cold beer section. That’s where he always tried to corner me. I shuffled slowly and he grew agitated quickly, “Move your fat butt, April. I don’t have all night.”  He knew he could get away with it. He knew I needed this job. I slowed down a bit.

 

“April!” Kenny called out as I rounded the corner down aisle 8. There he was all six feet, three inches of pot-bellied, lumbering, 47-year-old, perv. He was bent over the beer. His crack was showing. He straightened slowly and stiffly with his back arched. “Oh, there you are.” he said, looking directly at my breasts. They weren’t that much, but I guess they were enough for Kenny.

 

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to a six pack of beer with only 5 in it.

 

“Uh, 5-pack?”

 

Kenny’s dull eyes flared to life briefly, this was not going to be pretty.

 

The oppression of badly needing to keep a job is the worst. I guess I was lucky to have a job. I’m not good at getting jobs. I don’t think companies like to hire people my size. It’s discrimination, but how could I ever prove it. Point is, I had to keep this job.

 

I couldn’t afford to miss even one paycheck. I couldn’t pay my bills as it was. My car was eating all my money and I needed it to get to work. There’s no public transportation in Placerville, California at night. Worst part of it was, I had barely managed to get the old grey Accord into work on that night.

 

My 99’ Honda had almost killed me coming to work. I had been in the middle of Route 50, cars whizzing past me, when my little car had had another coughing fit. Whatever was wrong with it was getting worse. Every once in a while, I would press on the gas and the engine would just sputter, stall, and then eventually come to life and take off again. Luckily no one rear ended me before the engine finally caught and I made it in to work.

 

I was a desperate, lonely girl. I didn’t have an extra dollar to spend on that car. None of my friends or family had an extra dollar to help me out either. What had really set me behind was the last 800 dollars I’d spent to get the car to pass its emission test. I couldn’t even afford groceries for the month. How could I go to my mechanic again? How could I tell my abusive night manager to take this job and shove it?

 

“I don’t know how many times I have to go over it,” Kenny was saying when I came out of my worry-filled daze. “If you keep selling single beers to these bums, I’m going to let you go.”

 

I kept my own mouth shut even though I didn’t think Kenny had the authority to fire me. The grocery store is called Ben’s Food Place because it belongs to Ben. Ben does all the hiring and firing as far as I could tell. Kenny is Ben’s nephew, but I still don’t think he had the authority to let me go on the spot.

 

“Now, fill up all those
five packs
and get back up to your station.”

 

Ug, his breath was bad.

 

How did I dig myself in so deep in my short life time? Was it bad karma from a past incarnation? Was I just stupid?

 

I was fat as I’ve ever been, as broke as ever and there were no decent jobs within 50 miles of Placerville. Not for me at least. If I could get a few hundred dollars together, and the car running good, I would pack up and go down to San Diego and live with my sister. She’s barely scraping by, too; but at least I could have a selection of jobs to choose from and public transportation at night.

 

I bent over the beer cooler and began to quickly tidy them up. Then out of nowhere, I felt Kenny rub up against me from behind. This was the worst assault yet. I swear I could feel his little erection spear me right in the butt as he boldly grabbed my hips in his spindly claws.

 

I whirled around to slap him, but he caught my arm at the wrist. He put his weight up against me. I was leaning back over the cold beer. I was off balance. He had me. He squeezed my wrist hard, and said, “You really want to start trouble, young thing?”

 

“Hold it right there you
son of a bitch
!” came a booming voice from down the aisle. Kenny froze. “Get your
fucking hands off that woman
, Mister,” came an order with so much authority that Kenny dropped my hand. Kenny backed away and looked like he might wet himself.

 

What a badass my rescuer was. He was average height and weight. That’s where average ended. He was handsome, like oh-my-god handsome; stunning really. He looked tough as hell and beautiful at the same time. My heart was liquid.

 

The young man strode right up into Kenny’s face. Glanced quickly at me, then back up at Kenny, and said, “Is everything alright here, Miss.”

 

My heart was beating out of my chest. He smelled like I thought sex would.
It had been a long time.
He had a 3 day beard, tattoos, was striking fear into my nemesis, and had referred to me as miss.

 

Over the last 6 or 7 months, since I’d worked there, I’d heard Kenny the night manager backtalk so many shoppers it was ridiculous. It didn’t matter who it was, Kenny always had a snappy comeback. But something about my hero-stranger told Kenny he better keep his mouth shut. Kenny squinted his beady eyes, turned on his heel and walked off.

 

My knight turned to me, put a hand softly on my shoulder, took the wrist that Kenny had squeezed, and inspected it for damage. I was flying. He was the man of dreams come to life. He was close enough to kiss.

 

As Kenny got to the end of the aisle he couldn’t resist. Turning around he said, “Good luck getting a job after this.”

 

My hero dropped my arm gently. He started toward Kenny, and boomed, “Good luck
keeping
your job, Mister!” Kenny literally scurried away. When my dream-come-true turned around, I got a good look at him.

 

He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and old worn boots. That’s it, but in those few seconds my eyes took in worlds about him. The jeans fit perfectly with a thick belt and the thin t-shirt un-tucked at his narrow waist. I’m not a crotch watcher. I’m not even a big penis fan. I mean, I’d like to have one in me more often, I’d like to have a lover, I just don’t really need to look at penises to be happy. My point is, I couldn’t help but see that he had a bulge in his jeans that went down his leg.

 

That was when I first consciously realized how overwhelmingly turned on I was by this man. He was all lean muscle, grit, and musk. I was swimming in my own passion.

 

“Sorry about that,” he said turning his gaze toward me, “I’m Stevie.”

 

“Thank you,” I gushed.

 

“Not at all, Miss?” his voice went up as if to ask my name.

 

“Miss April,” I blurted, “I. I mean just April,” I managed to get out.

 

“Ho. K,” he chuckled, “It was no problem,
Just April
.”

 

His smile was glorious. If I could somehow be around him and make him smile, my life would be complete. “No, really, thank you so much,” I said feeling flooded with adrenaline.

 

“Ya know, Just April, I was only putting something the way it should have been. I had to do it of course,” Stevie said softly.

 

“Yeah, but a lot of people wouldn’t have done that for me,” I said, suddenly feeling choked up.

 

“It was nothing. I don’t mean it was nothing because it was you. It was a big something that that jerk would manhandle you like that. I just mean, don’t think twice about it from my end.”

 

“I still think it was heroic,” I managed.

 

“A coward dies a thousand deaths,” Stevie trailed off. “What’s important is, how are you?”

 

“Fine. I’m fine. A little shook up maybe,” I said.

 

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked.

 

“That was him,” I said, “Kenny the night manager. After 1, it’s just him and me.”

 

“Let’s go,” he said turning and putting his arm on my shoulder. We walked toward the front of the store. Stevie holding me made me uncomfortable, but I was in awkward heaven. “I’m going to get you a cup of tea, and we’ll have a chat, and you’ll be good as new in no time.”

 

A cup of tea? A chat? Who the hell was this guy? Are angels real? I mean an angel would be a badass, right?

 

Dear Diary, I ran into a charming badass, at 3 am, in Ben’s Food Place. Yeah, he rescued me from my awful night manager. Then he put his arm around me and says he’s gonna buy me a cup of tea. It was just another night in the life of
Cashier Girl
.

 

What was happening to me?

 

Then I remembered my job. I remembered my bills. I remembered my little duplex already behind on this month’s rent. I remembered all the lack-of-money-obsessing that I do 99% of my waking life. It all came flooding back to fill the void that had been soothed by Stevie.

 

“Wait,” I said. “I can’t just quit my job.”

 

“You already have,” Stevie said, “Let’s get out of here.”

 

We walked out of the sliding doors. What a relief. Had I really had to guard against Kenny all night long, every night? Was I really getting away? Did I really not have to fight off that creep for one more night?

 

In a dream we floated toward the Denny’s.

 

2

 

Ben’s Food Place is actually the largest supermarket for miles and sits right next to the
best
hotel in town (
Best
Western) and the only restaurant that’s opened 24 hours.

 

I found myself, in a Denny’s booth, sitting across from the most attractive human I’d ever encountered. I was holding a mug of steaming Lipton in front of me. “You don’t need that place,” he was saying.

 

“Huh?” I said, trying to clear my head.

 

“Let’s get some bacon and eggs, and fried potatoes in you, and see if you don’t come around.”

 

“Cause I’m a biggie, right?” I said reflexively.

 

“No. What?” he said. “No, because you've had a trauma."

 

Stevie was definitely not from around here. I felt myself loosen up a bit. He was my dream man, but since I didn't have a chance with him, I might as well try to be myself.

 

Biggie?" he continued. "No, you’re lovely.”

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