RISKY ROCKSTAR
Ryleigh Sloan
Risky Rockstar is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s British Bedmate. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.
Copyright © 2020 by Ryleigh Sloan and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Spines and Designs
Editor: One Love Editing
Dedication
This one’s yours.
For everything you’ve overcome and everything I believe you will still conquer.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
The Cocky Hero Club
Acknowledgments
About The Author
A Note from the Author
More Work by Me
Connect with Me
Prologue
Kade
Five Years Ago …
Fuck, I’m pumped! Adrenaline and endorphins race through my veins, and I know I’m not going to get any sleep tonight, but I don’t care. There are multiple things I can do to fill the hours, and I plan on making good use of those multiples. Emily sits next to me in my Impala, and I can’t wait to get my hands on her. I want to take everything I’m feeling—every single emotion running through me from seeing her in the front row at the concert—and pump it into her because words just won’t cut it tonight. Things have been hectic lately. About six months ago, we got our big break and life has been moving at warp speed. It’s great, a dream come true, and I love every minute of it, but it means less time with Emily. She used to tour with us, but a few weeks ago she mentioned the need to stay home for a while. I don’t blame her; it is exhausting, and sometimes we get whipped from one show to another without so much as a few minutes to change. It means quality time has been compromised, but I plan on rectifying that tonight. We just played to a sold-out stadium at Staples, a fact I can’t quite wrap my head around, and Emily came to the show. Seeing her front and center again made my night. And even though I was singing to twenty thousand fans, I was singing every single word to her.
As part of the show, when we play “Tap Out”one of our first singles, I bring a girl onstage and sing to her. I dance with her, hold her hand, and let her kiss me on the cheek. The crowd goes fucking crazy for it, and the girl gets an experience she can hold on to forever. I’m not trying to be a conceited prick here. It’s just my way of giving back to my fans, to show them how much it means to me to be doing what I love every day of my life.
Tonight, I was tempted to bring Emily up onstage. I know it wouldn’t have been fair, but it meant so much to me to see her in the crowd that I just wanted to share more of my experience. Security picked a sweet girl one row behind Emily; she was shaking so hard I could feel her hand vibrating in mine as I sang to her. I’ll be honest, it’s a breath of fresh air to get the shy girls onstage. Usually security picks “enthusiastic” girls that often result in me getting dry-humped. Thank fuck this girl was on the opposite side of the spectrum, but the longer she was up there, the more she shook. Eventually, when it got to the part where I was going to dance with her, I gave her a twirl, took her into my arms, and whispered to her that I was nervous too. She calmed down a beat after that and totally stole the show by singing back to me, performing like a natural.
When she ran back to her friends, she was beaming so wide, and it gave me a charge. That part of the show always brought back my first concert experience, and the nostalgia was bittersweet.
Emily’s hand palming my cock through my jeans brings me straight back to the present in a way I’m not going to complain about. I grin at her before I take the curve in the road, and she unclips her seat belt, kneeling on the seat. I guess she’s feeling as eager to get our night started as I am. She reaches for my belt buckle, undoing it and pulling down my zipper in record time, and my dick twitches in anticipation. She reaches into my boxer briefs and releases my already rock-hard cock. I shift in my seat and navigate another turn in the road, fighting not to close my eyes as she closes her hot mouth around the head of my cock and sucks.
I groan and flex my hips, as she alternates gentle licks with powerful sucks. “Angel…” My hand rests on her head, and she looks up at me through long lashes framing her wide hazel eyes. I turn my attention back to the road. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we should wait till we get home. This road—ah fuck!” She takes me deep, then sucks back to the head with a loud pop before she sucks me back in. “Em, Angel…” I utter the words through
