Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance)

FANTASY
BOYFRIEND

By
Vanessa Stone

This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright
© 2015 Vanessa Stone

Get
99 Cent Books, Free Books, and more

My Other Book Series

CLICK
HERE to read the
Absorbed
series

CLICK
HERE to read the Donovan series

CLICK HERE to read the Tamed series

Click
the link below to get my never released free book Tempted.

Click here to get your free book

Chapter 1

I felt a surge of excitement when I stepped onto the
campus. It had been a long and busy summer. I had spent most of my time working
as a barista at one of the local Starbucks, but I was ready to get back to
business, grind the books, and of course, hang out with my sorority sisters. I
was just starting the fall semester of my junior year at Boston University,
relatively small by many other university standards in regard to student body,
but it was one of the more affordable ones that I had been successful in
snagging a scholarship towards. The urban campus was located in Boston, and
since its establishment in 1969 had no less than seven Nobel laureates that
included
Elie
Wiesel and Martin Luther King Jr. among
its alumni and faculty. That illustrious pair were in good company, as other
alumni of the university boasted thirty-five Pulitzer Prize winners, nine
Academy award winners, and a variety of Guggenheim Fellowship holders.

Not that I strove, or even wanted to, become part of
that elite group. No, I just wanted to continue my schooling and head into a
future in health care. I also had chosen Boston U because it had no less than
twenty-three varsity teams, which kept my sorority sisters and me more than
busy and entertained during the school year. I loved this campus, a blend of
old and new, with some of the oldest buildings dating back to the early 1900s.
The campus also boasted Moakley Building, otherwise known as the Boston Medical
Center, a teaching hospital where I had a feeling I would be spending much of
my spare time during my junior and senior years, majoring in health sciences as
I was.

My sorority sisters and I shared an old off-campus Victorian
house that had been converted into first and second floor apartments. It wasn’t
too far, perhaps a half-mile from the western edge of the campus, and I often
walked to my classes. I belonged to Tri Delta, founded in 1888 and whose motto,
"Let us steadfastly love one another," was a way in which I tried to
live my life. I was willing to do that and more and continually prowled, if
such a term could be used in my case, for my perfect mate. The sorority was
well-known for its philanthropic support of St. Jude Children's Hospital, and
as such, I also expected to do some volunteering there this year.

I loved this area of Boston and its blend of old and
new. I have an affinity for old things, though I’m not sure why. I often
laughed when I told my friends I had been born in the wrong century.
Nevertheless, I did appreciate the conveniences of modern life. Our old
Victorian was located in a prime area of Boston, with a view of the Charles
River from the attic, and we weren't far from several parks as well as Fenway Park.
In fact, if I had to, I could walk just about anywhere I needed to be, from the
campus of Boston U to the medical center, public libraries, grocery stores, and
even the mall. We weren't far from the House of Blues or several malls with a
wide range of movie theaters, food courts, and anything a college student would
find interesting or convenient. We knew the neighborhood bars and hangouts,
although I didn't particularly care to go clubbing alone. Some of my sisters
certainly didn't mind, but I tended to be more cautious.

My sorority sisters often teased me about being a
loner, too shy for my own good. Oh, I liked to admire the guys just as much as
anybody else, but more often than not, they were the ones that actually did the
chasing while I did most of the watching. I don't think it’s so much a lack of
self-confidence as the fact that I was looking for a specific type of guy. Maybe
my standards were too high, I don't know.

I hadn't seen my sorority sisters and best friends
Becky Gaynor, Desiree Adams, or Selena
Hudgens
all
summer. Becky Gaynor was a native Nebraskan and came from a Midwestern farm
family. She hadn't quite decided what her major was going to be, but knew she
had to designate one this year. She was leaning toward some kind of social
work. She had traditionally Nordic features with the pale skin, light blue
eyes, and blonde hair typical of her Norwegian and German ancestry. Desiree
Adams was a light- skinned African-American from Georgia majoring in child
education. Selena
Hudgens
was half-Hispanic, half-Navajo
from New Mexico, majoring in criminal justice. Me, I was plain old Jessica
Mallory, lower middle class native of Billings, Montana.

All of us were transplants to Massachusetts, and we
had naturally clustered together in our freshman year. Last year, we had been
lucky enough to join the same sorority and found this lovely old Victorian home
where we could share expenses and live together.

At the end of our sophomore year, we had bid each
other goodbye at the train station and gone our separate ways. I had gone back
to Montana to visit with my family. Oh, we'd kept in contact by cell phone and
Skype, but it would be nice to once again return to the home we'd shared last
year. Well before the school year had ended last semester, we had renewed our
intention with the landlord to occupy the top floor of the old Victorian.
Although I and my sisters could party hearty with the best of them, we were
also responsible young women who took care of the building. The landlord seemed
to recognize that and appreciated it.

I was especially fond of the old house, which wasn't
surprising considering all the historical romance novels I love to read. There
was something about the Victorian era that captivated me, and I was indeed
fortunate that I had been able to find this place to share with my friends. We
split the rent for the top floor four ways, which certainly made it affordable.
We knew we were lucky to have been able to find a place to live so close to
campus that we could engage in regular sorority events, our classes, and of
course, the sporting activities on campus, which mainly included boy-watching
and plenty of chasing.

I smiled as I walked into the old building and headed
upstairs. At the top of the stairs was a small landing. To the immediate left
was one of the larger rooms on this floor, which Becky and Desiree shared. The
room immediately to the right of the stairs had been tapped by Selena, while I
had the room down the hall, a kind of U-turn away from the landing. A large
kitchen downstairs served as a communal space for all the apartment tenants.
Three rooms had also been converted into small apartments downstairs and were
occupied by three additional girls, though they didn’t belong to our sorority.
I didn’t know the girls from last year, but I knew that they had moved on and
three new tenants would certainly be occupying that space soon. Down in the
kitchen, two large side-by-side refrigerators were adequate for all our needs.
Everyone was designated a specific shelf in the refrigerators, with a verbal
and written agreement in the lease defining no "stealing" of other
people's food. The same went for the cabinets. Each of the overhead cabinets in
the kitchen was labeled with the names of the apartment tenants. As in the case
of Becky and Desiree, they shared the largest cabinet, while Selena and I each
had one of our own, as did the first floor residents.

The arrangements worked out pretty well, although
sometimes we had to plan ahead as to who wanted to use the stove or the oven,
but if our downstairs tenants were anything like last year’s, it wouldn't take
long for all of us to agree on schedules and compromise on usage. Everyone was
responsible for cleaning up after themselves. The landlord insisted that all
cooking equipment and utensils be washed and put away before bedtime to cut
down on the chance of roaches or other pests. We were all more than happy to
comply, as all of us got the heebie-jeebies at the thought of cockroaches,
ants, or mice.

I was anxious to reconnect with my friends and hear
about their escapades, boyfriends, and romantic adventures over the past
summer. While I had nothing very exciting to relate, having been too busy
working, I often lived vicariously through my "sisters" and their…how
should I put it…their “adventures” with their boyfriends, which also included
sexual escapades.

At the top of the stairs, I turned left toward Becky
and Desiree's room. I knew that the others had arrived before me, and if our
habits were still intact, they would all be gathered there. I knocked on the
door. Moments later, it was opened by Becky. She squealed in delight.

"Jessica's here!"

The sound of excited feminine voices bombarded me as I
entered, my own excited voice joining in with theirs. All of us tried to talk
at once, laughing, hugging, and giving each other the once over. It was good to
be back in the cluster of my friends, a group of people that had never made me
feel more welcome and safe than when I was in their company. Soon, we had all
made ourselves comfortable on the twin beds that Becky and Desiree had arranged
in the main room. It was more like a studio apartment with a bathroom, but it
was big enough for the two twin beds, two dressers, two small desks, and a
small entertainment center holding a collection of books, stereo equipment, a
flat screen TV, and a collection of DVDs.

After we had all settled and gotten comfortable, it
was time to compare notes. Becky went first. "I met the most gorgeous guy
this summer," she began. "He looked like a younger version of James
Dean! The only thing I didn't like about him was he smelled like cigarettes all
the time." She made a face. "He had the greatest body in the world,
and let me tell you, he was a fine lover, but he always tasted of
cigarettes."

"
Eww
," Desiree said.
"Did you say anything to him about it?"

"No," Becky smiled. "It wasn't like
either one of us expected anything serious out of the relationship, and like I
said, he was a great lover-"

"You used protection, didn't you?" Selena
interrupted.

"Yes, Mother," Becky said, making another
face. "Not only am I on the pill, but I made sure that he wore a condom
every time."

"Sounds wonderful," Desiree commented.
"You learn anything new?"

Becky smiled knowingly. "Did
I
ever!”

As the girls compared notes, I found myself entranced
by their new experiences and sexual maturity. I on the other hand, had nothing
much to share.

"Your turn, Jessica," Becky said.

I glanced at Becky in surprise and offered a lame
shrug. "Nothing to tell," I smiled. "I spent most of my summer
working."

"At the Starbucks, yes, we know that,"
Desiree commented. "We got that much from your Skypes and emails. But you
couldn't have worked all the time."

“No, I didn't work all the time," I admitted.
"I did date one guy for a week or two, but he turned out to be a
loser."

"Why?" Selena asked.

"After the first couple of dates, he started
getting possessive. I certainly don't need to tell you that anyone who starts
asking me what I do every day and what time I get home at night after only a
few dates, is not someone you want to hang around with."

They all agreed. "Besides, I spent most of my
time out at the beach."

"The beach?" Becky asked. "I didn't
know there was a beach in Montana."

I rolled my eyes. "You know that
us
landlubbers consider anything with sand near water a
beach. Okay, let me rephrase. I spent most of my summer reading in the narrow
strip of sandy dirt on the banks of the Yellowstone. Okay?"