Stage Fright: A Hot Interracial BWWM Western Rockstar Erotic Story (Her Rocker Book 1)

Copyright 2015, Ja’lah Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author

 

Other books by Ja’lah Jones

Her Cowboy

Hot Texas Night

Ridden at the Ranch

Going Down South

Addicted

Getting the Job Done

Judged

 

 

“Come on Roz! You
have
to go with me!” my best friend, Lianna, begged, standing over me as I sat on the couch with my biology text book open in my lap.

 

“No, I don’t want to, plus I have finals on Monday, I’ve got to study. Go ask Teagan, I’m sure she’d
just love
to go.”

 

Lianna gave me a dour look and crossed her arms. “As if. Besides, I’m sure she has something much more important to do than to hang out at an album release party for Druidfire.” Lianna couldn’t stand our other roommate, and to be honest, I had a hard time tolerating her as well. She was full of self importance and just mean with her high opinion of herself.

 

“I’m sorry Lianna, I just can’t. I really need to study.” She batted my legs off the couch and sat down in a huff.

 

“Roz, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! How many times does someone get the chance to hang out with the guys in Em Effing Druidfire? The only reason I got invited is because my boss wants someone from the station there to bring back all the gossip, and he couldn’t go himself.”

 

Lianna worked at the most popular radio station in New York, she was no stranger to seeing famous people coming in and out of the station for interviews, but being a lowly intern she never really got to interact with them. And she’d probably begged her boss to let her go to this party, Druidfire was her favorite band.

 

Lianna looked like she was about to cry as she said, “Please Rosalind, I don’t want to go alone.”

 

I felt a little flip in my belly. I didn’t want her to go alone, that was dangerous, but at the same time, there was no way I wanted to go at all. Forget finals, parties in general were painfully awkward for me, parties with famous people had to be several degrees worse. I just don’t have the social skills everyone else seems to. I always do or say something weird when I’m around people I don’t know very well and usually end up in a corner nursing a red cup of lukewarm beer at parties just to avoid any potential embarrassment I might cause myself.

 

But I looked at my friends face, and I thought about her having to navigate a sea of potential date rapey drink spikers by herself and I sighed.

 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go. But don’t blame me if I spill a drink on the drummer and start telling corny jokes that make everyone groan.”

 

 

Lianna clapped her hands and hugged me, squashing my textbook to my chest and driving out my breath.

 

“Thank you! Thank you!” She leaned back and took the text book out of my hands, her facing becoming stern, “Now go get ready, and don’t plan on wearing any of those nun outfits you call dresses. In fact, just to be safe, you’re going to have to borrow something of mine. And I know just the thing!”

 

***

 

I looked in the mirror doubtfully, “Are you sure this doesn’t look ridiculous, because I feel ridiculous.”

The dress was skin tight and strapless with the hem only falling to mid thigh, and while the white did make a nice contrast against the creamy brown of my skin, I felt totally exposed. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach even thinking about going out in public wearing something so revealing.

 

“Shut up, you look hot as fuck,” Lianna said as she leaned into the mirror, attaching the long black falsies to her eyelids.

 

I ignored her. That’s what friends always said, whether you were fat, fugly, or fifty. I just felt too exposed.

 

Grabbing a short denim jacket out of my closet, I shrugged it onto my shoulders. It didn’t hide much of my body but it gave me a sense of being covered, and I needed every advantage possible. Even if it was only psychological.

 

“Aw, why did you put that on, it’s hiding your best assets,” she motioned to my breasts, “If I had a pair of girls like that, I’d be showing those puppies off every chance I got.”

 

I shrugged, I was not the boob showing off kind of girl. “I think it makes this slut of a dress look just a tiny bit classier.”

 

“Hey, don’t be slut shaming my clothes, they’re not slutty… they’re empowered.”

 

I rolled my eyes at Lianna, she’d had one too many courses in Women’s Studies. “You told me to hurry and you haven’t even put any clothes on. Slack.”

 

“Jesus, don’t rush me. This may be the most important night of my life,” she held her hands over her heart and made a dramatic sigh, “The night I give Justin Lane a blowjob. You know, I’ve always thought I’d be a great groupie, I’ve just never been able to. I’ve been wasting all my time on stupid shit like, getting a degree, and working in my field. I’ve been so misguided.”

 

I laughed and grabbed my biology text book and flung myself back on my bed, prepared to wait two more hours for Lianna to get ready.

 

***

 

There was a line outside of the club’s door. My stomach clenched when I saw it, imagining the shame and embarrassment of being turned away, just like the group of girls I saw arguing with the big balding dude standing by the entrance. I hoped to hell Lianna knew what she was doing and this wasn’t just one of her crazy ideas. I was tempted to ask her if she was sure her boss had arranged for her to be there, but I stopped myself, I didn’t want to start an argument.

 

I started to walk to the end of the line but Lianna grabbed the arm of my jacket and tugged me with her, jumping in front of everyone. I looked at all the angry eyes staring at us and hoped my eyes said, ‘I’m sorry’ clearly enough.

 

“What are you doing?” I hissed at her.

 

“What? We’re going in the party,” she said edging me through the people to get to the man at the door.

 

“The line is that way, we can’t just cut,” I said.

 

She just rolled her eyes at me as we got to the very intimidating looking older gentleman who was looking us up and down like we were a piece of cod at the fish market.

 

“Back of the line girls,” he said, dismissing us, and I died a little inside.

 

“I’m here for WQPZ, name is Lianna Phillips and guest.”

 

The man looked at Lianna, eyes squinted as if he didn’t believe her. She just stared right back at him. God I wished I had her balls sometimes.

 

With a sigh he stood up and walked over to the little podium and flipped a sheet of paper on a clipboard.

 

“Uh huh, Lianna Phillips and guest, I got you right here if you’re really her. I’m going to need your press pass and an ID that isn’t fake.”

 

Without missing a beat Lianna pulled the a laminated id and her driver’s license out of the side pocket of her purse, as if she’d been expecting someone to ask for them. Maybe she was more prepared than I gave her credit for.

 

The man scowled down at her documents and handed them back over to her. He gave a nod to the other guy holding the little velvet rope that kept out the masses, the slightly less intimidating man unclipped it and ushered us in.

 

“Welcome to Ice, enjoy yourselves ladies,” he said as we passed. That guy was a hell of a lot more personable than the other bouncer. But I guessed you had to be kind of a hard ass if your job was just telling people no all night, when all they wanted to hear was yes.

 

We showed our IDs again to a woman working in the little entryway and were given stamps on our hands, Lianna’s was a black icecube with the number 21 on it and mine was a big neon green stop sign. That was fine with me. Whenever we got home I still had to study for Biology, and being drunk probably wouldn’t be entirely conducive to memorizing anything at all.

 

We walked into the main area of the club, it was huge and the “ice” theme carried throughout, with frosted glass making up the majority of all the surfaces, even the bar.

 

So this was where the rich kids came to play. It was nice but I couldn’t see a lot of difference between this club and any other I’d ever been in. People moved with the blaring music on the dance floor and the light pulsated with the sound. The only difference was probably the amount of money people paid for the drinks, and the kinds of drugs being done in the bathroom.

 

“Hey, let’s go get a drink,” Lianna shouted at me over the sound of the throbbing music. I nodded back at her and followed her to the bar.

 

It was a while before the bartender got to us and I had time to look around at my fellow party goers. I had been wrong, there was another difference between regular clubs and this club. Everyone in this club seemed to be a model. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect teeth. Hell, even the bartender looked like he could be in a magazine.

 

He smiled at us as he asked what we wanted to drink, his teeth almost glowed in the black light.

 

“I’ll have a Melon Ball,” Lianna said. The bartender nodded and then looked at me.

 

“What about you.”

 

“Just a Coke please,” I said, flashing my hand in explanation.

 

“Got it, be right back.” Only a few minutes passed before he was handing us our frosty cold glasses. He told us what we owed and I was shocked at the price of my little glass of soda, it would be the only one I’d be able to drink all night. I’d have to sip it carefully and guard it with my life, one random awkward step and I’d be drinkless for the rest of the night. And that wouldn’t do, because holding a drink was almost as good as having a shield. You could pretend to be absorbed in it if all other attempts at human interaction failed.

 

“I’ve got to find Justin. If nothing else I want to bask in his presence at least,” Lianna said, her eyes travelling around the room.

 

“Is he the lead singer?” I asked. I’d seen the band before but I wasn’t very familiar with the members.

 

“Are you kidding me? He’s the insanely hot one that plays everything from piano to drums to lead guitar. What planet do you live on?” she rolled her eyes at me, “Besides, the lead singer is having an affair with Lindsey Lopez.” Lianna crinkled her nose, I’d already heard all about how skanky Lindsey Lopez was.

 

We stood around scoping the place for a few minutes but then Lianna was off and mingling with people she thought looked interesting. I didn’t mind, I never really minded, I couldn’t expect people to sit around in corners with me, which is why I never really went to parties. And Lianna was on the clock tonight, so she got an extra pass for abandoning me.

 

I moved from the bar and walked through the crowd, trying to find an empty place to squeeze into and disappear until Lianna finished whatever it was she needed to do.

 

The place seemed to be getting more crowded by the moment. Elbows bumped into me, toes grazed over mine, drinks came inches from being sloshed onto me. This was really out of my comfort zone. Why would people choose to pack themselves this tightly into a room this dark with music this loud?

 

“Hey!” a guy yelled at me and then mumbled something I couldn’t understand.

 

“WHAT?” I screamed back.

 

Bent down closer to me and yelled into my ear, “Do you want to dance?”

 

I looked to where he was pointing, there was obviously an unseen dance floor somewhere. I couldn’t imagine it would be any different than standing right where we were and swaying except we’d have to jostle about half the population of New York in order to get to the designated swaying area.

 

I shook my head and continued on my way, trying to make it to the wall so that maybe I could squeeze close to it and escape some of the bodies that were pressing against me. I had almost made it when I felt a hand grab my arm, before I could turn I felt the hot breath on my ear.

 

“Hey, I said let’s dance.”

 

I looked back at the guy who was squeezing my arm painfully. Handsome but drunk, and obviously used to getting his way.

 

“And I said no, get your hands off of me.” I yelled jerking my arm out of his grasp.

 

Something glittered in his eyes at my refusal and fear seeped through my body, chilling my overheated flesh. This man wasn’t used to getting his way, he was used to taking it. He leaned over to talk to a man beside him that I hadn’t noticed before and suddenly I was being propelled forward by a new set of hands.

 

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Let me go.” I yelled at the hugely muscled pitbull of a man who seemed to be dragging me through the club.

 

The man never even looked at me, just straight ahead as he pushed his way though the crowd dragging me behind him. The pressure of his fingers digging into my arm made it seem like forever before we got to the obvious destination he was aiming for, I was sure there were going to be bruises. He moved a curtain aside to reveal a hidden door, which he unceremoniously pushed me through. The thought of being alone with this guy scared me and I started struggling harder.

 

“Where do you think you’re taking me? I said let me go! You have no right to drag me through the club like this, my friends will be wondering where I – “

 

“What are you doing Paul?”

 

The quiet power behind the voice froze both of us in place.

 

 

“Clay wanted this one taken up to the VIP lounge.”

 

“It doesn’t look like
that one
wants to go to the VIP lounge,” the voice sounded ominous and I tried to get a glimpse of who was speaking through the darkness. We seemed to be in a poorly lit stairwell, and I couldn’t see but a few feet ahead of me.

 

“This one didn’t want to go, but that didn’t stop him from dragging me around like some sort of Neanderthal.” I jerked my arm away from him and he let me go without a fight.

 

“Look man, I was just doing what I’m told – “

 

“And who do you think is going to take the fall when someone like this chick complains? Do you think it’s going to be Clay? No, it’s going to be you that the police talk to. You’ve got to stop letting him do this.”

 

“I just want to keep my job, man,” the big man was almost whining, it grated my nerves. I wanted to slap him. I rubbed my arm where his fingers had gripped me.

 

“Go tell Clay we’re going to talk about this tomorrow.”

 

The man looked over at me and shrugged before turning to go back the way we’d come.

 

I strained my eyes in the darkness trying to see who my savior was, “Thanks, I’m not sure what was going on but I appreciate you stepping in.”

 

“No problem,” the smooth voice got closer and I heard the sound of feet slowly descending the stairs. “I was just headed to the lounge myself. You’re welcome to come up with me and get a drink and relax for a few minutes but I can understand if you don’t want to.”

 

His face came into view as he was talking and I inhaled. It was the most beautiful male face I’d ever seen, pale white skin, patrician nose, a wide mouth with lusciously thick lips, but it was the eyes that really had me entranced. They were ice cold, like the perfect tropical lake had been frozen and preserved in his gaze.

 

“I, uh, I,” the man was so beautiful that I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to say. It didn’t help that his long messy hair was brushing against his forehead in a way that was begging me to run my fingers through it and sweep it off his face. “I, um. What was the question?”

 

He laughed and the sound of it reverberated through my entire body. “Do you want to come up and have a drink? Settle down a bit before you hit the club again?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” I would go anywhere with this man and his mesmerizing eyes. He nodded his head in the direction we were supposed to go and turned to go back up the stairs. I followed trying to keep my mind off of the very attractive ass that was ensconced in black jean pants directly in front of my face.

 

We made it to a landing and he held a door open for me, snapping me out of my ass watching hypnotism.

 

I walked into the barely lit room and took in my surroundings. It was bigger than my living room, with black leather seating dotted around the room. One whole wall was glass, looking down on the club below, the crowd moving to an almost inaudible song, the lights flashing, the people leaning into each other whispering in shouts.

 

I turned to look at the guy, he was pouring drinks at a side table that held as much liquor as the bar downstairs probably did.

 

“What would you like?” he asked, looking back at me. I felt suddenly shy. I held up my hand and realized he couldn’t see the glow in the dark stamp on my hand and awkwardly put it back down again.

 

“I, uh, I can’t drink.” I laughed nervously, “Under 21 and all that you know.” Of course he didn’t know, how could he know? I felt so stupid.

 

He smirked at me, “Well maybe we could over look it just this once.”

 

I didn’t know what to say, his smirk had rendered me speechless, so I just nodded.

 

“So what will it be?”

 

I didn’t know, I wasn’t a big drinker and I had no idea what anything I’d like was even called, “I’ll just have whatever you feel like making me.”

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