In Bed with the Devil: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Tia Siren

  “No!” he whined. “I want to see where you work. Come on, let me sleep until like nine or ten, and then, we’ll go to the studio together.”

  “Deal,” I agreed. “Now, remember. I don’t live in a big, fancy house like you, so don’t judge the place too harshly.”

  “As long as your place has a really comfortable bed in it, it’ll be the greatest place in all of Memphis,” he said.

  Once we finally got off of the plane and were reunited with our checked luggage, we found a cab and rode straight to my apartment.

  I’d secretly been stressing about the idea of letting Darren into my apartment. I was incredibly self-conscious about it and was afraid that he’d somehow be turned off by my setup or my general living arrangement.

  Yet, after I unlocked the front door to my place and let him in, he indeed went straight to my bedroom to deposit our luggage and fall right into my bed and pass out.

  I watched him sleeping on my bed. It was something that I’d often imagined, but never believed I would see. I wanted to join him in bed and sleep beside him, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  As tired as my body was, my mind was racing enough to keep me wired. I was on autopilot, unable to end my indecisiveness and start down a path. Leah had been getting contacted by many interested parties wondering about my prospects. I hadn’t even checked my email or social media pages since my dad’s funeral.

  I wanted to believe that if I asked the producers to hold off or if I told them no, maybe they would still offer something in the future. I’d found throughout the years that if you told someone no, they usually tried harder. The offer as it stood, along with my doubts, made me lean towards declining the offer.

  I also wanted to believe that if I did sign with them, and wasn’t satisfied with them or simply wanted a change, there would be no hard feelings and a separation wouldn’t mean the end of the world.

  I wanted to believe in a lot of things. One thing I knew for sure was that Darren Holt looked like an angel when he slept.

  I split the difference and woke him up at 9:30. He immediately smiled when he saw me. I waved.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Good morning.”

  “We heading off to the studio?”

  “Don’t we need to eat breakfast first?” I said.

  “I guess so,” he said groggily. “I want to grab a shower before we head out, too.”

  “Then, you get a move on, mister,” I said slapping his chest.

  “Can’t,” he said smiling. “This bed is too fucking comfy.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” I giggled.

  “That was the best sleep I think I’ve had in years,” he said.

  “Ha!” I said. “You slept for like two hours!”

  “Your bed is really fucking comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be honest. I’m really looking forward to sleeping in it again.”

  “Oh, you think we’re sharing the bed tonight?”

  “Are we not?”

  We gave each other a funny look, neither of us breaking.

  “Go take a shower,” I said.

  On cue, he smirked and threw off his shirt, revealing his tanned, strong body. I wanted to bite his tattoos.

  “Where would clean towels be?” he asked.

  “They’re in the bathroom closet.”

  He got out of bed and marched into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  Instantly, I began to fantasize. I thought about opening the door, pulling back the shower curtain and getting in there with him. I wondered what it would be like. How long would we end up being in there?

  He turned the shower on and got in. While he was bathing, I finished putting on my outfit and applying my makeup. I wasn’t sure who all I’d be seeing that day, so I was going for smart casual.

  As I was finishing up, I started hearing Darren singing in the shower. He was quiet, but it was audible. He was singing Bobby Darin’s “Beyond the Sea,” and he sounded marvelous. Part of me wanted to sing with him, belting into the door for him to hear. I held my tongue and hummed along.

  He quickly got dressed and ready. We got into my car, and I drove us out of the parking garage.

  “You excited to see Memphis!?” I asked him.

  “Absolutely.”

  “We can’t see too much yet,” I said. “I need to have my meeting with Leah, and deal with a bunch of boring business crap.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “You wanted it, you got it.” I laughed. “You’ll get to see what I do, and you’ll probably fall asleep.”

  “Nah, I’m not sleeping again until I get back into that bed,” said Darren.

  We drove down part of the market district, where I was showing Darren some of the places around town that I liked. We had a light brunch together from a diner I’d never been to that served excellent eggs and fresh juice.

  I took us on a few scenic routes to the studio so that I could point out more of what Memphis had to offer. While I was explaining things to him, he was skimming through the car’s radio stations never staying on one for long.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him.

  “I’m trying to find a station that’s playing the new Bailey Wright song.”

  “Oh, stop it!” I said waving his hand away from the radio. “No, I hear my voice every day. I don’t need to hear it on the radio.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “I really like the song.”

  “I like it too,” I said. “I’ve sung it hundreds of times and want to go on tour and sing that song. So, I’m okay with a break from it every once in a while.”

  “Geez, sorry,” he said. “Would you listen to my song if it was on the radio?”

  “Honey, are you kidding?” I said. “I’d probably be your music producer if you were putting out songs on the radio. You know I’ll listen to your music.”

  We got to the studio. Thankfully, the only car nearby was Leah’s; and, fortunately, it was the only car around for the entire duration of our stay.

  I showed Darren the office areas where “work” could get done, as well as the space I reserved specifically for writing sessions.

  I showed him the recording booth and my studio setup, and he was like a kid in a candy store. While he looked around at everything, I took a seat at the piano.

  Leah joined us, sipping on an iced coffee and looking good.

  “What’s up, girl?” I said to her.

  “Not much,” Leah said. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”

  I began playing the piano, dancing around the keys, hoping to find a decent accompaniment to the words I’d been thinking up on the plane.

  “Hi Leah!” said Darren as he checked out a subwoofer.

  “Hey, Darren! Nice to see you again. You like Tennessee so far?”

  “Haven’t seen much of it, but so far so good!”

  I found a few melodies that I liked, but none that matched what I was looking for.

  “So, what’ll it be, superstar?” she asked me. “Are we signed to a label?”

  I confided to her my apprehensions and communicated my fears. I expected a heated response, but she was surprisingly chill.

  “I’m just glad you’re really thinking about it,” said Leah. “I know we were supposed to kind of have an answer by now, but they actually said we could push meetings and discussions until the start of next week.”

  “Fuck, yes!” I cheered.

  “Monday is the day, though,” she said. “Know your decision by then, so I know whether we’re talking to their producers or not.”

  I agreed with Leah’s assessment. Darren stood by the piano, watching me.

  “I’m really happy to see you doing so well, Bailey,” he said. “This studio is—don’t take it personally—way better than I thought it was going to be. You have a killer setup here. I’m jealous.”

  “You can use some of the equipment, you know,” I told him. “It’s all ours. Or, you can sit here on the bench with me and sing
.”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  “C’mon,” I whined. “Play the piano with me.”

  “You’re the artist, darling,” he said.

  “I thought you were a performer, too,” said Leah. “I want to hear you play!”

  “I’m terribly out of practice,” he said.

  “Yeah, if you’re going to be putting out music on the radio, you’ve got to start somewhere,” I said with a wink.

  “I’ll just wait until you’re really famous and sleep with you to get a recording contract,” he remarked.

  “Damn!” said Leah. “Cold!”

  “Listen to me, Darren Holt,” I said. “Before you go back to Rome, you will do music with me—seriously. I want us belting out power ballads, and playing instruments until our fingers go numb.”

  “You shouldn’t talk like that,” he said. “There’s a lady present.”

  Leah grinned and did a humorous curtsey.

  Levity aside, I knew that what needed to be at the forefront of my brain was music. I needed to figure out how to get Darren to play with me. I needed to decide whether I was going to sign to the record label or not. I needed to find a tune that could carry some of the insane lyrics I’d written in the sky.

  I worried that if I wasn’t careful, my wants would overpower my needs.

  Chapter 23

  Darren

  After Bailey and I left her music studio, she took us around downtown Memphis to show me different places she liked to go for food, drinks, and shopping. There were too many places for her to choose from, so we mostly observed and moved along.

  I liked the vibe of the area. The people seemed pleasant while the atmosphere was chill but always moving, and there were plenty of places to see. If you lived in this area, you would always have something to do after work and on the weekends.

  But, like all big cities, there was an overabundance. There were way too many cars on the road, too many people crowding up restaurants and shops, and things were slightly more expensive. I was already growing to like Memphis a lot, but it didn’t change my attitude on how I felt about living in a big city.

  We got back to Bailey’s place as the sun was setting. We were both starving, and we decided we didn’t want to wait for something to be delivered to us. She offered to take us out for dinner, and I quickly agreed with the deal that I would pay for each subsequent dinner together after that.

  I drove us while Bailey acted as guide. I stopped to fill up her tank with gas and then continued down the mysterious streets. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but it was fun. She sometimes pointed out a place that she and Leah liked to go to, or a place that played really cool music, or a place she’d always wanted to go to but hadn’t yet. I wanted to take her to some of those places during my stay.

  Despite the fact that I got to spend time with the most beautiful girl in Memphis, a girl that I’d dreamed about for years, I couldn’t fall in love with the idea of moving there.

  The restaurant we went to was a place called Ramone’s in downtown. It was a quaint little joint that felt like something out of the 1980’s. The lighting was dim, music was fantastic, and the food and drinks were killer.

  “Let me ask you something,” said Bailey as she sipped on her first cocktail.

  “Uh, oh.” I laughed.

  “If you were me,” she said. “What would you do to get famous?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “You have a song that’s climbing the music charts, and you’re starting to get some heat. what do you, Darren Holt, do with that heat? Do you pick the first label that comes your way because they could—maybe, possibly, likely but not certain—help you become a well-known artist that makes a living doing that exclusively? Or, do you wait it out, because something better might come along? When do you know that ‘better’ has come along?”

  “That’s quite a mouthful.”

  “I guess it’s no secret why I’m asking you these things,” she said.

  “If I were in your shoes, and people were blowing up my phone, which calls would I take,” I said.

  She laughed. “Exactly. Basically.”

  “What label is trying to sign you?” I asked her.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it would matter to me.”

  “They’re small,” she said. “They only have three major artists that you’d know signed to them and lots of other smaller ones.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” I said. “They’ve got legit clients. Sometimes you get an offer, and you don’t know whether you can trust them. Three major artists, I’d say you can trust them. That’s good.”

  “They’ll start to expect releases at certain points, and maybe I’m not going to be in the mood to write at a certain point in my life, you know?” she said. “I don’t really want to have a ‘boss.’ I wish I didn’t have to suffer a loss in my independence to have the kind of freedom they’re offering.”

  I cleared my throat, unsure of where I was headed with my speech as I finished my first alcoholic beverage.

  “First,” I began. “To answer your original convoluted question; if I were you, I wouldn’t make a major decision like the one you’re weighing based on a time restraint. I know you need to make up your mind here soon, but their goal is to make money. Your goal is to make a life from this, not just money. So, make sure it’s the right one.

  “Second, you don’t need to sign with those producers. You don’t need to sign with any producers. You can make your own music without any help whatsoever. You got your radio plays while dropping your tracks independently, right? You have already found phenomenal success by yourself. Maybe you need a major label—maybe you don’t.

  “The problem is, there aren’t any guarantees in anything. You always take chances in life, and sometimes things don’t work out the way you think they will or want them to. But, if you don’t try things because you’re afraid of the bad that could come of it, you’ll never try anything.”

  I felt a little preachy, but she seemed to have digested everything I gave her smoothly.

  “How’s your social media presence?” I asked her. “I don’t really follow much of that stuff.”

  “I have over 100,000 followers on Twitter and half a million on Instagram,” she said. “I get a lot of plays on music apps, too.”

  “See, you’ve already carved yourself an identity for people to get to know,” I said. “If you keep releasing independently, you’ll get to be whoever you want to be. They can’t tell you how to act, or what to wear.”

  “Or what to sing,” she finished.

  “Exactly,” I said. “If you have to debate this much with yourself over it, don’t you think that kind of gives you your answer?”

  She smiled, biting her fingers as she continued digesting my words.

  “If I were you, I’d dominate the world all by myself,” I finished.

  We got refills of our drinks and our bread bowl. We were listening to the music being played over the speakers. It was a techno song that I’d heard before but couldn’t place the title.

  “Where are we headed after this?” I asked her. “I saw a bakery near here. I’ll get us some dessert.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of taking you back to my place and fucking your hot cock.”

  Hearing her utter those words was enough to stiffen my cock instantly. I realized, at that exact moment, that was exactly what I wanted, too.

  “Oh, were you now?” I asked.

  She finished the rest of her drink. She gave me a piercing, sexy look.

  “I want to dominate you in bed,” she said quietly.

  “Believe me, I’d like that too,” I said eagerly. “But, I never agreed not to fall in love with you. Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep having sex?”

  “It’s probably a terrible idea,” she said. “But, I don’t give a shit. I want you so badly, and I thought I could wait a while, but I don’t want to wait one night. Let’s get back to my place and make
love.”

  I looked around for our waiter. We laughed, growing more aroused by the minute.

  “If we aren’t careful, we’re never going to leave your apartment,” I said.

  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  “Not at all, I’m just saying that if we aren’t careful, I’m not going to want to leave your apartment. Being in that bed, with this woman, far away from home. I’ll tie your fine ass to the bed.”

  “Oh, will you now?” she said with amusement.

  Our waiter finally returned to our table. We didn’t notice him at first.

  “We never did try much of that really kinky stuff,” I said to Bailey.

  “Have you ever been handcuffed?” she asked me.

  “A few times.” I chuckled.

  “Will you guys be having any dessert tonight?” the waiter interjected.

  Bailey and I laughed.

  “I think we’re good, thanks,” I replied.

  We drove back to her place in silence. Although no words were being said, our body language communicated things clearly, as far as I was concerned.

  The lust between us was palpable. We didn’t touch, but the desire was there. Our mouths were agape and Baily was biting her bottom lip, clearly allowing our fantasies to get the better of us.

  We got out of the car and made our way from the parking garage up to her room. I let her lead the way, and I was watching her sexy ass as she walked.

  I thought back to what I said during dinner about falling in love. I thought about the hard truth that I’d been ignoring, poorly, and about how she most likely wouldn’t have found it much of a secret.

  I couldn’t fall in love with her during my trip, because I’d fallen for her a long time ago and hadn’t stopped. There was no woman I’d ever wanted more than her, and I was oddly okay with it. I wasn’t sure what the future had in store for us, but I wasn’t worried. The fact that she wanted me in Memphis with her was enough for me.

  We got back to her place. The apartment was very dark, with little streams of light coming in through the windows. I waited for her to turn on the lights inside, but she just kept walking.