FANtasy: A Hot Interracial BWWM Western Rockstar Erotic Story (Her Rocker Book 2)

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 Rocker Series

Stage Fright

Her Cowboy Series

Hot Texas Night

Ridden at the Ranch

Going Down South

Addicted Series

Getting the Job Done

Judged

 

I didn’t know what was happening inside of me. I knew that he was bad news, just another guy doing community service because he’d made one too many bad choices in life, but despite all that, I wanted him.

My body betrayed my better senses and craved him.

 

And I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that I’d seen him somewhere before.
 

Corbin

“I understand all of that,” Corbin said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice, “What I don’t understand is why you want me to wear this ridiculous wig and make-up.”

 

The little man standing in front of him looked highly put upon, and Corbin couldn’t really blame him. Being Public Outcry’s publicity guy couldn’t be that great of a job, no matter what it paid. Especially since certain members of the band insisted on getting caught drinking and driving on a somewhat consistent basis.

 

 

And if Corbin hadn’t gotten to the scene of the latest accident and pretended it had been him driving when the foreign sports car had hit the light pole instead of the highly intoxicated drummer, Jay, then they would have had to cancel the upcoming summer tour, due to Jay having his misbegotten ass stuck inside of some rehab or jail cell.

 

So instead Corbin had taken a taxi to the scene of the crash and pretended like he’d been driving during the accident. Sadly, he had been drinking at home before he’d gotten the call or he could have played it off as just an accident, a moment where he’d lost control of the car after glancing down at his phone, but he had no such luck. Even though he’d been drinking lightly he was still over the legal limit that would have allowed him to drive, even if he wasn’t as pants-shittingly drunk as Jay.

 

“I mean, I don’t see why I can’t just go in and do my time without the costume.”

 

“Because, Corbin,” the little man sighed, “If you’re spotted working at the food bank and you make one mistake the paparazzi is going to get it on film and it’s going to be all over every single entertainment show on cable and the internet, not to mention all of the gossip mags. And while you may not care about that, it’s kind of my fucking job to care, and I don’t need you making my job any harder than your asshole bandmates already do.”

 

Corbin nodded, he had to admit that they didn’t make it easy for the older balding man. “Alright, whatever, but this wig looks like a mullet. Can’t I at least get something that isn’t going to make me look like Miley Cyrus’s dad?”

 

“No, you’ll fit right in this backwards ass town, and it matches your flannel shirt nicely.”

 

Corbin looked down at the faded flannel and sighed, all it took was a mullet to turn a nice flannel shirt from fashionable into something worn by a racist dickbag in a jacked up Ford. After this was over he was going to have to reevaluate his wardrobe choices, he shouldn’t be able to rock a mullet so seamlessly.

 

Julia

 

Julia took a sip of her peppermint tea as she flipped the page on her clip board. It was going to be a very busy day. She had three new ‘volunteers’ starting, on top of a huge shipment of rice that would have to be portioned out, and she was, as always, short staffed.

 

You would think having a steady flow of kids who’d gotten caught with pot being forced to help out would ease the burden of being perpetually understaffed but it didn’t. If anything it made it even worse because she spent half of her time training people to do shit they didn’t care about and the other half correcting their mistakes, which they also didn’t care about.

 

But for whatever reason the law had decided that her food bank was appropriate punishment for petty criminals.

 

It galled Julia that these people thought of it like that. The college girl who had been caught shoplifting one too many times, the small time suburban drug dealer who had tried to sell a dime bag to the wrong person, and the asshole who thought it was ok to drive after consuming their bodyweight in tequila.

 

That’s who she had coming into work this morning. To be punished.

 

It was anything but punishment to Julia, it was the closing of a circle, the fulfillment of being able to give back to a community that had supported her when she and her mother hadn’t been able to support themselves. Sure, it didn’t pay much, but she didn’t need much. It kept a roof over her head and food on the table, and she didn’t need much more than that.

 

Well, most of the time. She looked down at her phone and switched the playlist to Public Outcry, the one she listened to every morning. Her friends had already bought tickets to their concert this summer but Julia wasn’t going to be able to go, the tickets and a hotel room were going to be just too expensive.

 

 

She’d skipped college so she could work and she had no desire to wrack up tons of student loan debt anyway, but sometimes it still stung that she missed out on some of the things her friends were getting to experience. Like see her favorite band in concert.

 

Julia sighed and stood up from behind her desk. Who was she kidding, even if she’d gone to college, she still probably wouldn’t be able to afford to go. People like her always lived on the razor’s edge of poverty. But she didn’t mind, she was doing what she loved.

 

Corbin

 

Corbin walked up to the old rickety looking building and wondered if he were in the right place.

 

The sign said, ‘Community Cares Food Bank’ but he was sure the building was actually abandoned.

 

As he’d ridden through town in the little rented Kia sedan he looked on in wonder as his surroundings became more and more dilapidated.

 

The band had been playing the next town over when the incident had happened Corbin could only guess that Jay had accidentally wondered off the beaten path to get to this little Podunk community. He couldn’t imagine someone would come here on purpose.

 

He pulled the little Kia in the parking lot and turned off the engine before pulling down the visor and looking at himself in the mirror one last time. He looked ridiculous. Even after letting his beard grow in, wearing the glasses he’d been given and the stupid mullet wig, he couldn’t believe anyone would be fooled by something so stupid looking. He was going to end up on the entertainment shows anyway, except instead of looking like an incompetent rock star with no respect for the law he was going to look like an incompetent rock star with no respect for the law wearing a fucking mullet wig.

 

He lets out a sigh and opens the door to the car. There’s no way out of it, he’s got to go in.

 

The appearance of the building doesn’t improve much once he gets inside. There’s a little waiting area and a sign in slash receptionist desk that’s poorly lit with flickering florescent lights.

 

There’s a woman who looks to be in her fifties sitting behind the receptionist desk.

 

“Yes, I’m here to do some community service hours.” He says politely as possible, the woman doesn’t even look up from the ancient computer screen, she just keeps on chewing her gum.

 

“Through those doors, down the hall through the big double doors and into the warehouse. Call out foor Julia, she’s who you’ll be reporting to.

 

He nodded, aware that she probably didn’t see him and didn’t care whether he understood her directions or not. There was probably a riveting game of Farmville on the other side of her computer screen that demanded her full attention.

 

He made his way down the corridor she’d mislabeled a hallways. It was more of something out of a horror movei than anything else. Hopefully he wasn’t reporting to leatherface to be slaughtered for his good deed of getting Jay out of trouble.

 

Corbin made it through the doors at the end of the hallway without incident and was surprised to find a large room filled with stainless steel metal shelving full of food neatly organized. Some shelves were full to overflowing and some were completely bare.

 

He wondered if he was just expected to bellow out the supervisor’s name when he saw her walk around the corner.

 

It felt like he’d been punched in the gut. She looked like a Julia, if there were a painting of the perfect girl that would embody the name Julia, she would be it.

 

He was used to being surrounded by beautiful women constantly so that wasn’t the only thing that was affecting him. It was the way she moved, the way she brushed her hair behind her ear as she checked something off the paper on her clipboard. It was the way her eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked at the numbers. It was the curve of her check of her breasts, of her waist and hip. It was everything about her.

 

Then she looked up at him and he felt the breath he’d been holding release. Her eyes cut through him right to the center of who he was. And a look of disgust crossed her face.

 

“Oh, you must be here for community service, follow me and we’ll fill out your paperwork.” And without another word she turned around and walked away, expecting him to follow.

Julia

He was the second asshole to arrive. She already had the teenage shoplifter repackaging the rice.

 

She didn’t expect much from the people they sent her but he looked like a cartoon character for a stereotypical rednick. If Disney had made a movie about Joe Dirt he was the model they would have used to base the character on.

 

She made it to her little corner that doubled as an office and looked for the paper work she’d just had on her desk ready for him to sign.

 

She was always losing something or misplacing it. That was just the way it was when there was no room to properly sort things. A filing cabinet would be lovely, but it, of course, was the last thing on the budget when they had to worry about people who needed to eat.

 

“I swear I just had your paperwork a minute ago. Give me just a second while I find it.”

 

She shuffled though applications she had set to the side for approval, making sure she didn’t loose those in the shuffle.

 

She’d had to finagle the numbers a bit but she was able to get fourteen more families approved to receive weekly food packages from the bank, now all she had to do was find food to give them. She sighed, that was ok though, she would do what she had to.

 

“A fan of Public Outcry?”

 

She looked up at him and saw him eying the little calendar she had tacked to the wall. She had made it herself in word so of course she’d decided to add a picture to it to try to cheer up her corner a bit.

 

“Hmm,” she muttered non commitally, “She wasn’t in the business of chit chatting with the people the court sent her.”

 

“You know I have some connections, I might be able to hook you up with some tickets or something.”

 

She put a stern expression on her face and eyed him from his out of date haircut down to the old ratty and stained jeans he was wearing, though they did seem to fit his body a little too well, and let her disdain for him show.

 

“I appreciate that but I’ll pass,” she said, her lack of interest in him dripping from every word.

 

She’d dealt with men like him before, and no good would come from even being slightly friendly to him. He’d take it as a sign that she was interested, and she was most definetly not. All she was interested in was doing her job and getting him to work as fast as possible.

 

Besides, what was the odds that Billy Ray here would have any connections to Public Outcry? None.

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