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Sun, 10/16/2011 - 22:42

Leo Licked

By Tammy Valentine

Series The Zodiac Club: Book 6

Heat Rating 3

Released 2011-07-22

Word Count 6517

Keywords Contemporary, romantic comedy, chick lit, tammy valentine, the zodiac club, Erotic, sexual fantasies, naughty, soft porn, vanilla experimentation, star signs, Zodiac Leo

ISBN 978‐1‐926930‐99‐2

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Price :$1.99

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Also Available At : Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Bookstrand | 1 Place for Romance

When Izzy lands a job photographing a top rock band, her sexual experiment leads her into uncharted territory—as a groupie. But with a shock in store from the charismatic guitarist, will the future of the Zodiac Club be thrown into question?

The whole band was there, laughing and drinking beer from bottles and flicking towels at oneanother after their post-gig showers, revealing still-wet torsos and playful glimpses of bare thighs. Twenty feet away, as if chancing on a group of rare creatures gamboling in the wild, Izzy stopped and watched, tucking herself back round the corner so as not to be spotted. She reached behind her back for the camera that was slung from her shoulder and raised it to her eye. Instantly the scene jumped closer, putting her right in among the dripping muscles and prancing feet. The drummer—the shortest and nimblest of the four—skipped between the rest, catching calves and flanks with his wound-up towel and giggling gleefully every time he hit home. The bassist and singer appeared to be doing their best to dodge him while simultaneously attempting to land their own strikes as he whipped past them. Only Shark, his back to Izzy and leaning somewhat nonchalantly against the corridor wall beside an open dressing room door, seemed to be above the childish shenanigans, pretending to ignore these puerile antics and growling halfheartedly whenever the drummer approached him. But he was stung into action when the drummer lunged suddenly toward him, grabbed the towel around his waist, and ripped it sharply away from him. Izzy's finger hit the shutter as two gorgeous buttocks—firm and manly and as tanned as the rest of his appealing figure—were exposed to her. From behind, he reminded her of nothing less than Michelangelo's "David," the boyishness of his curves reinforced by the clear definition of the gluteus maximus muscles. As she shot off frame after frame with her finger depressed on the motorized shutter, she saw him snatch in vain as the drummer whisked the towel away then throw up his arms in mock exasperation and plant himself in a completely open stance. "All right, boys. Get a good look. This is what the girls are all after." And leaving his bandmates gasping with mirth and amazement, he turned on his heel and walked away. Directly toward Izzy. The full width of the corridor still filled her field of vision through the camera lens, but there was only one focus for Izzy. All thoughts of Michelangelo vanished as Shark's real-life marble stature grabbed her entire attention. David was, after all, a little on the small side in the proportion department. Shark, by contrast, was magnificent. The glistening chest muscles fed down into a six-pack of rippled perfection, then on to a beautifully delineated pelvis, adorned with lush golden hair and sprouting the most divine member Izzy had ever seen. Even in its unaroused, natural state, it was a glory to behold—proud and thick and immaculately formed. Izzy was so busy staring at it that she didn't notice Shark had stopped. "Getting some good shots?" With a flush of mortification, she tore the camera from her eye and looked, humiliated, at the face of this naked Adonis. He spread his arms, raised an inquiring eyebrow, and showed not a hint of embarrassment. Behind him, the other three Hearts interrupted their frolics and turned to watch. For a moment of acute silence, Izzy waited to see what would happen next. Then Shark nodded toward the dressing room door that stood open halfway between them. "Come and have a private session, if you like."