Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar Read online

  Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar

  STYLO FANTÔME

  Published by BattleAxe Productions

  Copyright © 2020

  Penny Sixsmith and Stylo Fantôme

  Cover Design:

  Najla Qamber Designs

  http://najlaqamberdesigns.com

  Copyright © 2020

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  It is the copyrighted property of the author,

  and may not be reproduced, copied, re-sold, or re-distributed.

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  Please purchase a copy for yourself from a licensed seller.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar

  Boy #1

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  BOY #2: MR. NICE GUY

  The Kane Series

  ALSO FROM THE AUTHOR

  Shout out to my mental health.

  You needed some fun.

  Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar

  The Oh, Those Boys Series

  Boy #1

  “Stupid motherfucker.”

  Cassie sobbed and stumbled up the street, fumbling around in her pockets, looking for her keys.

  “Motherfucker!”

  She was a little drunk, and a lot upset.

  She was also wearing a sky high pair of stilettos, and a floor length flowy skirt paired with a tight, long sleeved, crop top. A trench was over everything, doing the bare minimum to keep her from freezing to death. February in Washington D.C. was cold – had she known she'd be walking home that evening, she would've dressed warmer.

  But of course, she hadn't planned on coming home at all that night.

  It was Valentine's Day, after all. She should be spending the night with her boyfriend, at his home. That had been the plan. Step one had been to get all dressed up and do her makeup sexy – CHECK. Step two had been to have a romantic dinner at his favorite restaurant – CHECK. But no one had told her that step three would be him dumping her because he was in love with his personal trainer.

  FUCKING CHECK.

  He'd left her at the table while she'd sobbed into her napkin. Before then, a waiter had thoughtfully brought the “happy couple” a complimentary bottle of cheap champagne, which Cass had then proceeded to drink all by herself.

  Straight from the bottle.

  In a couple chugs.

  After that she'd downed her martini, as well as the beer her piece of shit ex had left behind. Then, while she'd put on her jacket, she'd loudly informed the entire restaurant that love was a myth invented by greeting card companies. She'd eventually left, but not before flipping off the hostess and stealing another table's bottle of wine.

  “Stupid son of a bitch,” Cass sniffled as she climbed the stoop to her building. It took her a couple tries to enter the key code, but she eventually got inside the security entry way. She glared at a rose taped to someone's mailbox, then she attempted to unlock the inner door. While she squinted her eyes and tried to shove the key in the lock, the door behind her opened again.

  “Some time today, lady,” a man sighed from behind her. She glared over her shoulder.

  “Fuck off,” she snarled. He laughed at her, and she belatedly realized it was her neighbor. The guy who lived in the apartment next to hers.

  Oh god, not him.

  “St. John?” he said her last name with a lot of surprise in his voice. “You look like shit.”

  “Yet I still look better than whatever piece of trash you brought home last night,” Cassie challenged.

  “This is also true. You gonna open that door some time this week?” he asked. “Want me to help?”

  When he took a step forward, she actually growled at him.

  “No! I don't need any man to help me with anything! So you can -”

  The key finally turned in the lock, and the door swung open – with her still holding onto the handle. She fell to the ground and swept into the building, twirling on her ass as she clung to the knob. Behind her, she could hear laughter.

  “Grace and etiquette, thy name be Cassie St. John.”

  She felt hands sliding under her arms, then she was hoisted back to her feet. She quickly scurried away from him, but when she turned to glare, he wasn't looking at her. He was stepping on his cigarette butt, grinding it out, and then closing the door. She narrowed her eyes.

  “Micah,” she finally recalled his name. “Micah Gannis.”

  He was the next door neighbor from hell, which the fact that he was so good looking only made it worse; she couldn't even enjoy those good looks. He was tall, much taller than her, and lanky, with fair skin and thick, black hair. His large blue eyes could be smiling one minute, and look haunted the next, and went well with his full lips and wide mouth – a mouth that always seemed to be smirking at her. Mocking her.

  “She knows my name!” he laughed, giving her a cheeky smile as he headed towards the stairs. The elevator had been busted for the past week, and they lived on the fifth floor. Until that moment, though, they'd blessedly never been on the stairs at the same time.

  With a grumble, she fell into line behind him, stomping up the steps. He felt around his back pockets, eventually pulling out a bulky key chain. Then he glanced over his shoulder.

  “What's with the stomping and the black eyes?”

  “Black eyes?”

  “You look like a sexy panda,” Micah informed her. She swiped her fingertips under her eyes, and when they came away, they had black smudges on them. Mascara and eyeliner. She tried her best to rub away the mess.

  “None of your business, that's what,” she huffed out. When they got to the third floor landing, he paused long enough for her to catch up to his side. She glared some more while his eyes wandered all over her form.

  “Hmmm. Crying eyes, cute outfit, lots of makeup, and it's Valentine's Day ... did Mr. Perfect dump you, or something?” he laughed.

  So much for cleaning up her streaky makeup. Cassie's eyes filled with tears again, and Micah's smile instantly fell away. He'd apparently been joking, but now looked slightly horrified that he'd nailed her night on the head.

  “Yuck it up, sleazeball,” she grumbled, then she roughly shoved past him so she could continue up the stairs. She thought he would just leave her alone, but then she heard him running to catch up.

  “Hey, I'm not the one who dumped his girlfriend on Valentine's Day.”

  “No, you'd have to actually date someone for that to happen – and you only have one-night-stands,” she called him out.

  “A one-night-stand means I can't treat them bad in the future. And hey,” he pulled her to a stop on the fourth floor landing. “Your boyfriend is a piece of shit. I mean, like, you annoy the shit out of me, but no one deserves to get dumped on V Day.”

  “You're charming, you know that?” she snapped, yanking free of his grip and continuing up the last flight of stairs. “A fucking paramount to the virtues of ... manhood.”

  “Manhood?” he barked out a laugh, jogging behind her.

  “You're right, I should've said boyhood,” she corrected herself. Some of the vitriol was lost, though, when she hiccuped.

  They stood at their respective doors, Cass flipping through h
er keys and undoing her bolt lock. While she searched for the key to the knob, she realized Micah had paused, his key ring hanging from his bolt.

  “You know, I've never understood why you don't like me. I've never done anything to you,” he pointed out. “Barely even talked to you. You've had a shitty attitude with me ever since you moved in, though.”

  “Are you joking?” Cass guffawed, unlocking her door and shoving it open. Then she turned to glare at him some more.

  “No. Enlighten me. Why are you such a bitch?”

  “I'm a bitch because our walls are paper thin!” she shouted, gesturing between their apartments. “And every time you fuck somebody to distract yourself from the fact that you're a literal neanderthal, I have to listen to it! Do you have any idea what time I go to work? Do you even care that we can all hear you?”

  “You're just mad because I get to have good sex whenever I want,” he snapped. “Meanwhile, you had some piece of Wonder Bread sleeping next to you – and I say 'sleeping' because based on what I could hear through the walls, wasn't nobody getting fucked in your apartment.”

  “You're a pervert!”

  “I'm a pervert!? You're the one listening to me having sex!”

  “The whole building has no choice but to listen!”

  Micah stepped up close, getting right in her face and glaring at her.

  “I haven't heard anyone else complaining,” he growled. “You know what I think? I think you like listening to me. You probably press your ear against the fucking wall, because hearing what I do? It's probably the closest you've been to good sex in a really long time.”

  They were both breathing heavy, and Cass wanted to scream. Wanted to punch him. Wanted to knock him down the stairs, and all because he was right. It was annoying as shit listening to the caterwauling coming from his apartment – their bedrooms shared a wall – but it did always sound like the women had a good time. “Mr. Perfect” had certainly never made her scream like those women.

  Am I really upset about getting dumped? Had I really been looking forward to another round of boring, missionary position, lights out, sex?

  “You don't know anything about me,” was the best comeback Cass could come up with while she was flustered. Micah smirked at her.

  “I know your type. 'Stuck up bitch who needs to get fucked'.”

  She had just enough liquid courage to slap him. Hard. The sound echoed in the quiet stairwell and his head snapped to the side. When he finally turned his face back to her, there was fire in his eyes. She blazed right back at him, daring him to take the next shot.

  When she thought back on the night's events later, Cassie was never sure who kissed whom first. They were just suddenly together – bodies slamming against each other, arms entangling, clawing at clothing. Pulling at hair.

  While his tongue swirled around her mouth, they fell back against her door jam. She yanked on his t-shirt, twisting them to the side, and they fell through the open door. Their mouths stayed attached, tongues fighting each other, while he kicked the door shut behind them.

  “What are we -” he started to breathe, but then let out a yelp when she bit down on his bottom lip.

  “Don't talk,” she groaned, pushing and shoving at his leather jacket until it fell to the floor. “You'll just ruin it.”

  “You better not be this bitchy when I get you in bed,” he warned, jerking her coat away from her shoulders. “I'm not like Mr. Perfect, I'm not gonna be nice to you in there.”

  “Good.”

  They were moving too fast, Cass knew that; it's what she wanted. If they slowed down, she'd realize what a bad idea this was, and she'd stop. And she didn't want to stop. It was Valentine's Day, and she was angry, and she was alone, and truth be told – she was so fucking turned on.

  They practically ran across her small apartment, still kissing, all while shedding various pieces of clothing. Her voluminous skirt puddled around her feet, almost tripping her, and his t-shirt hit the ground next to it. He kicked off his shoes while she ripped his belt away from his pants, and then both their hands were on his fly.

  “If you're gonna come to your senses, now would be a good time,” he urged, struggling to undo his buttons. Cass left him to it and raised her arms, pulling her top over her head. She boldly stood before him in only her heels, a lacy pair of panties, and nothing else. She rested one hand on her hip.

  “Consider my senses off duty for the rest of the night.”

  “Thank christ.”

  Micah all but tackled her onto her bed, and she let out a shriek of delight. She tried to remember if she'd ever been treated so roughly before; or been with anyone as rough as him. His hands were heavy on her, his skin tough and scratchy. She whimpered and moaned as he palmed her breasts. Cupped and squeezed them. Then gasped when he yanked her knees apart, forcing her legs wide open.

  “Jesus, who knew you could be this sexy?” he breathed as he laid down on top of her. She felt his teeth against her neck and she craned her head to the side, giving him more access.

  “Lots of people,” she argued. “I'm just not your type.”

  “Uh, girl I barely know begging me to fuck her moments after our first real conversation? You're exactly my type.”

  “See? You're ruining this. Shut up.”

  He was in the act of shoving his pants down his thighs when she pushed against his chest. Forced him onto his back. She stood up long enough to yank his pants the rest of the way off his legs, then she straddled his hips. It was dark in her room, only the street lamps outside were providing a glow, so she couldn't see everything. Just a tone body under her. Broad shoulders. A couple tattoos. Those rough hands gripping her thighs.

  Then he was sitting up abruptly, startling her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders to stop from falling, and she gasped when his mouth locked around her nipple. She raked her fingers through his shaggy black hair, pulling at the strands.

  “Goddamn, you're wound up,” he breathed as he shoved a hand down the front of her underwear. “Are you always like this?”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut as a finger pushed inside her. When a second one followed after, a shudder ripped through her body.

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  “Well then. Now you're gonna see what all the screaming in my apartment is about.”

  As good as he was making her feel, Cass still managed to snort.

  “For someone who talks so much, I'm not seeing a lot of action.”

  “You're such a bitch. This is gonna be so fun.”

  His hands were gone, suddenly at one side of her hips. She shrieked as her panties were ripped clean off her, but before she had time to yell at him, his fingers were shoved into her mouth. She groaned as she tasted herself, and she swept her tongue up and down his digits.

  Meanwhile, Micah wrapped his arm around her hips, forcing her up onto her knees. She could feel his erection under her, and he took his fingers away from her mouth. Wrapped them around his cock before guiding her down on top of it.

  “Oh ... my ... god.”

  She moaned and shuddered some more. Dug her fingers into his shoulders and her teeth into her bottom lip. He was right, she really did understand all the screaming, now. His dick was a gift from god. Thick, and so long, she didn't think she was going to be able to host all of him. It seemed like ages before she was fully seated on his lap, and when she was, she started shaking all over. His dick had a curve to it, she realized – the tip was pressing directly against her G-spot.

  Just as she thought she might maybe possibly potentially be getting used to the idea of his penis being inside her, he gripped her hips and pushed her away. Then yanked her back. She groaned as their pelvises slapped together, and when he did it again, she dropped her head back and shrieked loudly, clawing her fingers through her hair.

  “Now who's the loud one?” he grunted.

  And for once, she couldn't respond. Couldn't say anything, not when it felt like his dick was reaching the base of her
throat.

  Eventually, Cass was able to fully participate. She pumped her hips back against him, planted her hands on his knees behind her. Arched her back, delivered her breasts to his mouth. His hands stayed on her hips and ass the whole time, urging her faster. Urging her to do more, to be more.

  Or maybe that's just me ...

  “Harder,” she panted, sitting upright so she could bounce up and down.

  “You sure you're ready for that?” he was breathing hard, as well. She nodded.

  “I am.”

  “Or maybe you're just angry at your shitty night,” he said through clenched teeth. “Maybe you don't really want this at all.”

  Cass glared and slowed her thrusts. Stopped moving almost entirely, just sitting on him and rotating her hips in a circle.

  “Maybe all I really want is for you to fuck me as hard as you can.”

  She screamed as she was practically thrown around onto the bed. Her back had barely slammed against the mattress before Micah was driving inside her. She screamed again as she was thrust up the bed – that's how much force he was using. And he didn't slow down one bit, didn't give her any chance to adjust. She'd asked for it hard, and Micah was complying.

  “This what you want?” he asked, his hips moving hard and fast between her thighs.

  “Yes!” she shrieked. “Yes, god, yes!”

  “Always such a snobby bitch in the hall,” he was grunting as he thrust. She was shoved clear up to the headboard, pillows falling over her face. “But you're really a bad girl. Like getting fucked by a stranger. Like getting fucked hard.”

  She was shrieking with every thrust, squeezing her breasts, and was completely unable to respond. An orgasm the likes of which she'd never felt before was growing. Tightening in her chest and causing her pussy to clench around him. He hissed as he felt it, and though she hadn't thought it possible, his thrusts grew even more brutal. Her headboard banged against the wall, denting the plaster. The lamp next to her bed fell to the floor. The bed springs creaked and squeaked.

  All noises I'm used to hearing from the other side of the wall.

  “Oh, fuck, St. John, you should've stopped eavesdropping and hit me up sooner,” he groaned.