Boy #1: The Wannabe Rockstar (Oh, Those Boys) Read online

  Micah, on stage.

  Micah, playing guitar.

  Micah, singing into a microphone.

  Cassie stared wide eyed up at him, and suddenly had no doubts as to why his band was so popular in the local scene. The guys were ... infectious, their upbeat vibe flowing straight into the audience. Tyler had an amazing voice, and he moved around the stage completely uninhibited. He interacted with the other musicians as well as with the audience. Even shot a wink to Cassie when he saw her standing there.

  She barely noticed, though, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from Micah.

  The guys were all in matching outfits – some sort of 1950s style tuxedo, but without the bow ties. Trim, tailored blazers with straight leg trousers, and crisp white shirts, black buttons marching down their centers.

  It looked good on him, suited Micah's tall, lanky figure. Made his shoulders look even broader and sharper. And his hair – it was finally long enough to do something with, so he'd styled it to suit the look. It was strange, she'd seen it long and messy, and she'd seen it shaved, but she didn't think she'd ever seen him style it. It looked good.

  He looked good.

  She couldn't very well stay glued to one spot all night. She looked ridiculous enough as it was, gawking at him. Cassie finally tore her eyes away, nervously patting at her hair as she continued on her rounds. She felt silly, lusting after some ... some wannabe rockstar.

  Some rockstar who didn't even look at me once. Why do I play these games with him?

  Yet when the band was winding down to its first break, she found an excuse to be near the stage. She was at the corner, hidden by the bunting, scolding a waiter she'd caught sneaking drinks for himself and his friends. Mid-rant, she felt a hand against her back. When she turned, though, she was surprised to see Tyler standing there.

  “Hey, Cassie!” he grinned, then shocked her by wrapping her in a bear hug. “You look amazing! Great party, chick.”

  “Uh, thank you,” she laughed when he finally let her go. “You guys, you're amazing. I was really impressed. You've got a great voice.”

  “Ah, shucks. Do go on,” he teased. “But really, thanks. I love this kind of gig, man. I'm not selling out stadiums any time soon, but I can get this place hopping in a couple beats, you know? I love it.”

  She did know, and she loved it, too. Before she could say that, though, he let out a shout and was picking her up again in a massive hug.

  “Alright, alright, enough.”

  Micah was suddenly next to them, smacking Tyler in the back of the head. The lead singer released her, then immediately started bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

  “Gah! I'm too hyped! I gotta go run a lap around the block.”

  And then he was gone, leaving a breathless Cassie in his wake. Micah just shook his head.

  “Sorry, he's really ... lovey dovey.”

  “I noticed. Is he really going to -”

  “Run? Yes. Don't worry, he'll be back in time for the next set.”

  They finally turned to face each other, and for the first time in all their interactions, Cass felt awkward. She waved her hand at the stage next to them.

  “You guys, I was just telling Tyler – you're incredible. I'd pay to see you live any time,” she told him, and she meant it.

  “I would've figured you'd turn up your nose at music like this,” he laughed. She frowned.

  “Well then. You'd figure wrong.”

  They stood there in awkward silence. Well, she was awkward. Micah was staring at her dress. She clenched her fingers around her tablet and clutch, then pressed her hand to her ear, listening in to the babble over the radio, desperately hoping there was a situation that needed her.

  “You look good,” he suddenly blurted out.

  “Excuse me?” Cassie was stunned.

  “You look ... good,” Micah repeated himself. She racked her brain, trying to remember if he'd ever complimented her before.

  He did the other day. He called you beautiful.

  “Thank you,” she stammered, glancing down at herself.

  “You look so young.”

  “Thank you ... I think?”

  “I mean, you always look young,” he chuckled. “And you always look good. But tonight, you look really ... special.”

  Before she could return the compliment, a shrieking girl came running up to them. She all but flung herself into Micah's arms.

  “Oh my god, you were amazing,” she groaned, clearly a little inebriated. “I love the way you play the guitar!”

  “Wow, thanks, okay,” he laughed, trying to break free of her.

  “You can play me anytime,” she whispered loudly.

  “Gee, can I?” Micah feigned shock. “Tell you what! Why don't you go wait in a bathroom stall for me, I'll be there in a sec, babe.”

  “Okay!”

  And then she was stumbling off, heading in the general direction of the bathrooms.

  “You missed a golden opportunity there,” Cassie teased. Micah cocked up an eyebrow.

  “Did I? Maybe it's because I think I've got a better one waiting for me elsewhere.”

  “Do you, now? I'd love to see this amazing 'opportunity'. Pity I'm busy with work.”

  “Hmmm, I don't think you're that busy.”

  “You may be amazing in bed, Micah,” she laughed. “But I'm not about to shirk my duties to go have sex with you.”

  His eyebrow raised even higher.

  Cass made a face at him, then whirled around and strode away. She moved swiftly through the crowd, smiling politely at everyone she passed. She discreetly pulled her ear piece away, then tugged hard enough on the cord to dislodge it from the pack on her back. She shoved the thin plastic wire into her clutch, then left the main room and walked down a wide hallway.

  Another turn brought her through a set of double doors – the private area of the event hall. She was striding towards the room she'd changed in earlier, but she didn't make it. She managed to muffle her shriek when hands grabbed her around the waist, all but tossing her through an open door on her left.

  “Jesus!” she gasped, stumbling into a stack of chairs. “What's your problem?”

  Micah was slamming the door shut behind them, then also locking it. She glared and went to push past him, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place.

  “You are my problem,” he informed her. “This is my problem.” He flicked at the lace on her chest. “That is my problem.” His thumb smeared across the gloss on her bottom lip. She jerked her head away from him.

  “None of this is your problem,” she countered. “I'm trying to do my job, Micah.”

  “Yeah? So am I, and you're not fucking making it easy,” he growled.

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “Fucking skulking around the dance floor,” he sneered. “Looking fucking perfect. Staring at me with those goddamn eyes.”

  So he had noticed her. He'd been watching her as much she'd been watching him.

  “Exactly – I was doing my job,” she lied. “Just like I should be right now. Let me go, Micah.”

  “Oh, I think we're way past that, Cass.”

  They glared at each other for a long moment, absorbing his words. Then without a sound, she stepped into him. Pressed her chest to his while she kissed him. The hand on her arm tightened its grip, making her wince in pain, but she didn't move away.

  When he finally kissed her back, it was like a flood gate opening. Five days without touching, without sex, was a long time for both of them. His arms were around her, yanking her as close as he could, and even in her heels, she was still forced onto her toes.

  “We can't do this right now,” she whispered as they stumbled around the room.

  “We should always be doing this,” he corrected her. They almost knocked over a banquet chair, and when it stayed upright, Micah quickly sat down on it.

  “We could if you weren't always avoiding me.”

  She straddled his lap, not at all su
rprised to find his hands immediately under her voluminous skirt.

  “Not always,” he breathed, fingers stroking up her center. “Just sometimes.”

  “Sometimes,” she echoed, writhing around on his hand.

  “Sometimes you're too much, St. John. Even for me.”

  “This is so bad,” she groaned, letting her head drop back. “I'm not like this ... I'm at work ... I can't do this.”

  “You're already doing this. Don't go. Not yet.”

  Well, when he asked so nicely.

  She clasped his head in her hands, kissing him deeply while both his hands worked between them. Her panties were pulled and stretched to the side, then he was helping her to sit on his dick. She shuddered and groaned – she rarely chose to be on top with him, because at that angle, she came far too quickly.

  There just never seemed to be enough time with him.

  “God, I missed this,” he groaned, thrusting up into her all while clawing at the back of her dress. Finding the zipper and yanking it down.

  “I missed you,” she whispered, then bit on her bottom lip, trying to hold in her words.

  “Yeah?” he chuckled, smoothing his hands up her arms. “I might have missed you a little, too.”

  “Liar.”

  He groaned when her bodice fell away from her chest, revealing a pure white lacy bustier.

  “You kill me, Cassie. Every fucking time,” he said, running his hands over the material, feeling the boning.

  “I aim to please,” she assured him, pumping back against his thrusts.

  “I love ...” he started whispering, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I love how you're such a girl.”

  “Oh, gee, you finally noticed.”

  “No,” he moaned, and one of his hands squeezed her breast. “I mean this. I mean the way you dress, the way you smell. How you talk. You're such a fucking ... woman. And I'm such a dirt bag. Why do you let me touch you?”

  “Because you're so good at it,” she panted, pressing her forehead to his. “And because ... I like getting dirty sometimes.”

  The chair was beginning to squeak, the back of it banging into some sort of desk behind it. Cassie ignored everything, getting lost in Micah's eyes, instead.

  “Why are we like this?” she whispered, tremors starting to break out over all her muscles. “Why can't we stop this?”

  “Why would we want to?” he whispered back, spearing his fingers into her hair. “Why would we ever stop?”

  Because I'm beginning to want this too much, and you don't want it enough.

  He was rubbing against that sweet spot inside her, and she couldn't bear it. When her orgasm hit, he swallowed her cries with his mouth. Blotted them out with his tongue. She shuddered on top of him, whimpering against his lips, begging for release.

  And still he kissed her.

  And he kept kissing her, long after his own orgasm.

  “St. John,” he finally breathed, his lips sliding along her jaw. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder and hugged him tight, unable to say anything at all.

  They held each other like that for a while, until a bump outside the door startled them. They both looked over her shoulder as the knob turned, but the lock stopped anyone from coming inside. There was giggling, then footsteps stumbling away.

  “You throw a hell of a party, Cass,” Micah sighed, and she finally laughed.

  She fixed her hair and makeup while he cleaned himself up. Then he helped her reattach her ear piece to her radio before clipping it to her bustier. His fingers lingered on her skin while he slipped her dress back into place.

  “You should come out with us tonight.”

  His invitation shocked her and she stared at him in the mirror.

  “Me? Come with you? Where?”

  “After party, at Tyler's place,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss along the back of her neck.

  “You're inviting me with you?” she checked, and he chuckled.

  “Yeah. You deserve your own party after this shin dig,” he said. “And the guys like you – I think most of them have crushes on you.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “I'm serious,” he breathed, his hands smoothing around her waist and up her ribs. “Look at you. Who wouldn't?”

  She did look at herself, in a mirror that was across from them. And she looked at the gorgeous man behind her, the one touching her and worshiping her. It was amazing, really. He was such a free spirit, and so full of talent and life. She was so stuck in her ways. So predictable. Typical. A twinkle at his wrist caught her eye, and she smiled when she realized he was even wearing cuff links.

  “Hey, look,” she said softly, and he lifted his head. “We match.”

  They looked like a couple from a 1955 prom photograph. Of course, she still had boarding-school-good-girl written all over her face. And even in a tuxedo, Micah had rough-edged-punk-guitarist written all over him. The two didn't seem like they should go together at all.

  And yet we really do match, a lot better than I ever would've thought.

  “Don't get used to it, kid,” Micah snorted. “The monkey suit comes off the minute I get off that stage.”

  “Boo.”

  “But you,” he sucked air through his teeth, then bit down hard on her shoulder, making her yelp. “Don't change a thing, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  After that, the night couldn't end soon enough. Cass and Micah exited the room, and hallway, separately. A couple minutes later, his band went back on stage. She kept circling the room, as was her duty, and did her best to ignore the sexy lead guitarist.

  Though she did catch the wink he sent her at one point.

  After the band got done, they were treated to a round of drinks at the birthday girl's table. She showed a particular interest in the drummer, and shots were eventually brought over. Cass tried not to frown as she watched the boys drink more and more. She was glad when they all eventually left – she didn't want to have to cut them off, or worse, kick them out.

  But how am I supposed to go to his party? I don't even know where it is. Maybe it was just an “in the moment” invitation.

  She stayed late, long after the mayor and his wife left. After the catering company left. After the DJ closed out his set. Around one in the morning, the birthday girl finally stumbled her way out of the building, proclaiming that Cassie was her new best friend.

  Thank god that's over.

  The janitorial staff immediately swept in and started cleaning. Cass sent her own staff home, while she stayed to tidy up a few odds and ends. She was shutting Josh's office door, making sure it was locked, when she felt a presence behind her.

  “Done yet?”

  She squealed and whirled around, smacking Micah in the chest.

  “Jesus, you scared me!” she hissed, hitting him a couple more time. He grabbed her wrist, halting her assault. “I thought you were long gone.”

  “I was,” he responded, using her arm to reel her in. “I came back.”

  “I see. What's up?”

  “I don't have your number.”

  Cassie blinked her eyes a couple times, trying to take everything in. He wasn't in his tuxedo anymore, but back into more normal clothing. Another hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans. Beat up Chuck's on his feet, a plaid long sleeve shirt tied around his waist.

  “What do you mean?” she finally asked.

  “I mean, I went to text you the address of the party, and I realized I don't have your number,” he explained. “Why the fuck don't I have your number?”

  “You never asked,” she pointed out, struggling to pull her wrist free. His grip was iron clad.

  “I've been inside you, but I can't call you?”

  She blushed, then yanked sharply, breaking free of him.

  “You can call me – you only needed to ask,” she informed him.

  “Did boy toy ask?”

  There was a distinct snide tone to his voice, and he was sneering. Micah was just a tiny bit drunk, and also
a wee bit jealous. Cass smiled big at him.

  “A long time ago,” she answered honestly. “We've been texting each other all week.”

  “Slut,” he swore, but he said it with a snarky smile, so she laughed. “Give me your number, then let's get out of here.”

  She complied happily. It felt kind of intimate, holding his phone in her hand, entering her info for him. Afterwards, he followed her into the changing room, but when she went to take off her dress, he stopped her. He'd been serious about her not changing – he liked her uber-feminine look.

  So she left it on, just shoving all her regular clothes into her duffel bag before tucking it into a corner. She'd get it on Sunday, when she came to break down the set up. She collected her purse and a few other personal belongings, shoving everything into a large messenger bag, then she ran out with him to a waiting cab.

  “What's everyone going to say when we show up together?” Cass asked, patting her hands over her hair, checking the braid. Micah grabbed one of her hands and held it between his own.

  “That they're bummed they don't have a chance with you,” he guessed, then belched. She burst out laughing.

  “You're very suave when you're tipsy.”

  “You should see me when I'm proper drunk – I'd blow your mind.”

  “I have absolutely no doubt of that.”

  He raised the back of her hand to his lips, kissing it gently, causing her heart to flutter. Then he lowered it to his crotch, pressing down against his growing hard on. Cass leaned close to him, sucking on his earlobe. Dipping her tongue in his ear.

  Maybe we should just go home, instead.

  Before she could make the suggestion, though, they were pulling up outside of a house. Micah tossed a handful of bills into the front seat, then squeezed her hand and pulled her out of the car. They walked up the driveway together, her a couple paces behind him.

  She was a little in awe. The building was large; a small warehouse, really, that had somewhat been converted into a living space. A large roll up door was lifted open, spilling light onto the dark driveway. People were milling about what looked like a spacious living room, or maybe it was a furnished garage? She couldn't quite tell. As they got closer, she saw stairs going up the side of one wall, leading to what had to be bedrooms. Or maybe a kitchen? It was an interesting space.