Hard Rock Heat: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 5)

by Athena Wright

  A blond girl over in the corner looked familiar. After thinking for a moment, I placed her. She'd applied for a position through my company a while back. We'd been looking for classical musicians to act as a string quartet for our fancier events. If I recalled correctly, she played the cello.

  I wondered what a classical musician was doing with a group of rock stars. Maybe the same thing a corporate event planner was doing here.

  I contemplated going over there and re-introducing myself, just to have someone to talk to at the very least. Maybe we could commiserate over the unlikelihood of two relatively normal, boring people like us being at a party like this.

  A commotion on the other side of the room caught my attention. A familiar voice was laughing while another male voice growled words of warning.

  The first thing I noticed a very pretty young woman with dark red hair standing with a blue-eyed guy who vaguely resembled her.

  The second thing I noticed was the blue-eyed man's fist about to make contact with Damon's face.

  The third thing I noticed was Damon's arm around that girl's shoulders.

  Fury exploded in my chest.

  Damon had just finished saying he shouldn't have bragged about all the girls he could get into his bed, and now, mere minutes later, he was already hitting on yet another one of them, right in front of me where I could see.

  Shaking with rage, I glared at Damon, willing him to turn and look at me. Almost as if he could feel my eyes on him, Damon did turn his head, catching my gaze. I stared him down with a bone-chilling expression. He immediately removed his arm from the girl's shoulders. His expression was almost comically chagrined. No doubt embarrassed he'd gotten caught flirting, yet again.

  I whirled around on my heel.

  I tried stomping out of the house, but the layout of the place was like a maze. I couldn't even remember how to get to the front door. The living room was also packed and I couldn't push through the people quick enough without being rude.

  I'd only made it a few steps when Damon appeared through the parted crowd.

  "Faith, wait." He grabbed for my arm. I yanked it away before he could take it.

  "Fuck off," I snapped, nearly surprising myself with my strong language. I rarely swore like that, and even then only when I was extremely pissed off.

  "It wasn't what you thought," he insisted. "Just listen to me."

  He was blocking me from leaving. I whirled away in the other direction, wanting to get away from him. He followed.

  "I wasn't really flirting with her," he insisted. "Cerise is a friend. I like to piss off her brother by pretending to hit on her. Gael’s overly protective. I like to rile him up. That's all."

  I stopped in the middle of the room.

  "So you weren't flirting?" I said, voice dripping with contempt. "You were only acting like an immature asshole trying to piss someone off?"

  "Yes," he said emphatically.

  I stared at him incredulously before continuing to stomp away in the other direction. He continued trailing me.

  "Where are you going?" he protested. "I told you I wasn't flirting."

  "I can't believe you," I said. "I don't know why you always have to be such a—"

  "What?" he said, exasperated as I practically flung open a set of double doors. "What exactly am I?"

  We stormed into the kitchen.

  And stopped.

  August had Cassie pressed up against the fridge. His hand was up her shirt. Her leg was wrapped around his hip.

  I immediately turned bright red. Cassie's look of mortification was no doubt a reflection of my own. Damon's exasperation turned into wicked delight as he teased them. I took advantage of his distraction to make my exit, whipping around and leaving the kitchen as quickly as I came.

  I couldn't believe I'd let myself think for a second that Damon could be anything more than what he seemed. Even when he wasn't acting like a womanizing asshole, he was acting like an impulsive jerk.

  Enough was enough.

  I was done with Damon for good.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Faith!" I heard Damon call out from behind me.

  I continued walking briskly. The crowd began to thin the longer I walked, but August's maze of a mansion was too confusing and I couldn't find my way around.

  I thought I'd almost reached the front foyer when Damon popped out from around a corner. I halted abruptly, glaring at him.

  "If you're looking to leave, you're going the wrong way," he said.

  I crossed my arms. "I don't want to talk to you."

  "Why?" He looked as put out as I felt. "Because you think I'm an immature asshole?"

  "Yes."

  "So I like to play around with my friends," he said, sounding frustrated. "They give me hell just as much as I give them. Cam once put motor oil in my energy drink. Ian pretended to smash my favorite guitar on stage. It's just how we act."

  I stared at him silently.

  "I probably shouldn't have messed around with Gael and Cerise the way I usually do," he admitted. "It's just habit. I didn't really think about the fact that you were here."

  "Nice to know how easily you can forget about me."

  My voice rose with every word. The few people in the hallway with us swerved their heads around in interest, watching the scene we were putting on. I flushed in embarrassment. Damon noticed.

  "Come here." He took my arm gently and lead me through an open door into a parlor room. For some reason, I let him.

  He closed the door behind us. We were the only two people there. He turned to face me.

  "I didn't mean to imply I forgot about you," he said firmly.

  "Sounds like that's exactly what you did," I said crossly.

  He ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "Fuck. I've never had to work this hard for anything in my life," he murmured. He met my eyes and blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

  "My feelings weren't hurt," I replied automatically.

  His lips quirked into a smile. "Is that why you're looking at me like you want to gut me with a rusty spoon?"

  I scowled at him, not wanting to give in. Not wanting to admit he really had hurt me with his stunt.

  Damon approached me carefully.

  "I know you think I'm a thoughtless jerk," he started to say. "And maybe I act like one sometimes."

  "Maybe?" I snorted.

  "But I'm also a caring brother," he continued, ignoring my comment. "And I'm a loyal friend. And, yeah, sometimes I run my mouth off, but I always say what I mean and I don't play games."

  "Are you saying I'm playing games?" I asked.

  "No." He shook his head. "I just want you to know that although I can be an ass, that's not all I am."

  Damon stared at me silently after his speech, waiting for my response. I didn't know what to say.

  "Why are you telling me this?" I finally asked.

  "Because I like you," he said simply. "Because I care about your opinion of me."

  "Since when do you care what anyone thinks of you?" I asked.

  "Since now."

  "What are you playing at?" I asked. "What's your angle? I don't get it."

  "I told you," he said. "I don't play those kinds of mind games." Damon took my hands in his. I didn't pull them back.

  "You really need to stop doing and saying asshole things like that," I replied.

  "If I do, you have my permission to call me out on it," he said.

  "Since when do I need your permission to call you out on anything?"

  Damon chuckled. The way his green eyes lit up made my throat close up. "True," he said, sidling up to me. "You've probably be shutting down guys since you turned sixteen."

  "Only when they deserve it." My back was to the corner. I couldn't move away. His body was so close to mine.

  "And who was the first guy to be on the receiving end of your barbed words?" Damon leaned casually against the wall next to me, hip bumping against mine. My heart spe
d up. "No doubt some poor clueless boy who had no idea what was getting into?"

  "However did you guess?" I asked, trying to ignore the heat radiating from him, warning me from the outside in.

  "I feel kind of envious." With an easy motion, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. "Those tongue lashings of yours are pretty hot."

  My belly tightened. I fought to gather my wits. "It's not supposed to be hot," I said. "It's supposed to make men's balls shrivel up in fear."

  Damon smirked and brought his lips close to my ear. "Some men just can't handle fiery girls," he murmured.

  "And I suppose you can?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice from betraying me.

  He ducked his head. His lips wandered from my ear to the underside of my jaw. "Despite all your verbal abuse, I'm still here, aren't I?"

  I felt the movement of his mouth against my skin, a not-quite kiss. My inner muscles clenched. His delicious scent filled the air around me. With every breath, I took in that heady leather smell. My head went dizzy for a brief moment. Damon's arm tightened around my waist.

  I pulled away a fraction of an inch. Just enough to give myself room to think. I straightened my back and smoothed down my hair, taking a moment to steady myself. I didn't want to go swooning over this man in the middle of a party. I didn't want to go swooning over this man at all, but my body didn't seem to want to listen to my mind.

  "I guess something about you just brings out my inner rage monster," I said without thinking.

  He lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Rage monster?"

  I flushed and looking away. "That's what I call it. Usually I can handle anything with calm and poise. But you…" I briefly flicked my gaze up to meet his.

  His eyes narrowed with a wicked pleasure. "I get under your skin, don't I?"

  Despite that being the exact phrase my inner voice scolded me with a dozen times, I hated hearing him say it out loud. Nothing was supposed to get to me. I always had everything under control.

  "You don't have to scowl," he said. "You get under my skin, too."

  I was taken aback at his confession. "How so?"

  "You think I apologize to just anyone?" His lips tilted in into a small smile. "You think I let any other girl dictate the terms of our relationship?"

  My heart thumped a heavy beat. Relationship. Did sniping at each other followed by a few moments of heavy flirting count as a relationship? Maybe in Damon's world it did. Maybe that was the closest thing to a relationship he was capable of.

  Still. That word sent my head spinning.

  "You're good at apologizing," I said, hoping to move on quickly before he realized what he'd said and backtrack. "You should do it more often."

  "The same way you should smile more often?" he teased.

  "If you tell me to smile one more time, I'm going to beat you over the head with my shoe."

  He smirked. "As fiery as you are, you wouldn't dare risk your precious Diana Six heels."

  "I think you're the first person to ever call me fiery," I admitted quietly.

  "And what do they usually call you?" Damon asked curiously.

  "Cool. Collected." I shrugged. "Sometimes even Ice Princess."

  He tugged me toward him. I allowed myself to take a few steps closer.

  "That's the last word I'd ever use to describe you," he said.

  His eyes met mine, the green of them vivid and bright. I didn't break his gaze. He lowered his head, angling it. My breath hitched.

  "You're passionate," he continued. "Spirited."

  His lips were inches from mine. My heart went into overdrive. He buried one hand in the hair at the nape of my neck, tangling his fingers in her dark strands. He dipped his head.

  "Not to mention sexy as hell," he murmured. "I can barely keep my hands off you."

  My eyelids fluttered closed.

  Soft lips touched mine.

  Sparks exploded between us. I inhaled a sharp breath.

  He stepped closer, bringing our hips together. I melted against him, lips molding to his, breasts pressed against his firm chest.

  What the hell are you doing? My internal voice scolded me. Did you totally forget about the no touching deal?

  No, I hadn't forgotten. I just couldn't seem to summon up the strength to push Damon away. Not with his hands on my hips and his tongue in my mouth and those low, sexy sounds he was making in the back of his throat.

  Do you really want to give in to this guy so easily? my brain continued harping on me.

  I didn't want to give in. I wanted to stand firm in my resolve. I didn't want to fall for him like all his fangirls and groupies. I didn't want to fall for him the way he so obviously expected me to.

  But those fingers and those lips and those eyes…

  "I can hear you freaking out," Damon said into my mouth in between kisses. "Just stop thinking."

  "How am I supposed to—" I began.

  In one quick motion, he took my wrists in one hand and pinned them over my head.

  "No thinking," he repeated.

  "I can't just—"

  He darted in and nipped at my throat.

  "Ahh—" I gaped out loud.

  "Just feel," he murmured against my skin.

  "I—" His lips returned to my neck, placing hard, sucking kisses. My eyes fluttered shut. "Oh, fuck it."

  I arched my back, pressing into him. A low rumble of pleasure sounded from his chest. His lips returned to mine, capturing my mouth roughly, urgently. Our tongues battled, sliding against one another's as we heaved heavy, panting breaths.

  "You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled. "Taste so fucking sweet."

  Something inside me unraveled at those words. I moaned into his mouth. My knees nearly went out from under me. He shifted his leg, shoving it between mine. One hard, muscle thigh parted my skirt, rough denim rubbing against my soft skin. His knee was only inches away from the most private part of me. The heat from his body flowed into mine. I shivered, my thighs squeezing shut reflexively as I rocked my hips desperately.

  "You want it, sweetness?" His gaze burned into mine. "You want me?"

  Eyes shut, I nodded my head.

  The hand not holding my wrists moved from my hip, up my side. One large thumb found its way to the underside of my breast. It swept quick lines along the curve, the soft cotton of my bra doing nothing to dull the sensation. My nipples stiffened, jutting out from beneath my shirt.

  That thumb found its way to one stiff peak. I let out a small, embarrassing squeak as he pressed down, rubbing in hard circles. It was like a direct line ran from my nipple to my core. My insides began to pulse along with my heartbeat. I squirmed, tilted my hips, wanting to feel him against me, wanting more, wanting to relieve the ache. I couldn't move too much, trapped as I was with my wrists pinned to the wall. I made a small noise of disappointment. He let go.

  "Put your arms around me," he demanded.

  I did so without a second thought.

  In one smooth motion, he hoisted me up. My legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. With quick steps, he strode toward the chaise lounge sofa in the middle of the room. We fell down onto the cushions in a tangle of limbs. His rapidly hardening length pressed into my stomach. The evidence of his arousal made the throbbing inside me grow that much stronger.

  His hands skimmed up my thighs, under my skirt. Two fingers hooked under the elastic of my panties. His eyes met mine. I nodded shakily. He yanked them down sharply, down my legs and around my ankles. He threw them to the floor. I was about to protest, but his hands returned to my thighs, parting them. My toes curled at the heat in his eyes as he stared at me, examining me.

  "You look so fucking delicious," he said, his voice low in his chest.

  "What—"

  I couldn't finish my question as he darted forward and planted his face between my legs. My head fell back against the cushions with a long groan. His tongue swept lines between my lower lips before attacking the nub at the apex of my thighs. I let out a sharp gasp as
I was assaulted with sensations.

  "Oh my god," I moaned.

  I fisted handfuls of his hair, tugging him closer, urging him on. He kept up the onslaught, not stopping for a second. The pleasure inside me rose higher and higher. My legs shook. My muscles tensed up. My head tossed back and forth.

  He sucked harder, playing with my clit using lips, tongue and teeth. My eyes flew open, my mouth open in a silent scream, orgasm hitting me without warning.

  He worked me though it, continuing to lick and suck, until finally the pleasure turned painful. I tugged on his hair again, telling him to stop. He lifted his head and crawled up my body.

  I thumped my head back against the sofa. "Fuck," I said, breathing heavily.

  "Fuck is right," Damon agreed, placing a kiss on my mouth. I could taste myself on his lips. "You're fucking delicious."

  "No, I mean—" I sat up, pulling my skirt down and pulling my legs to my chest. I brought my forehead to my knees with a thud.

  Damon kneeled above me, concerned. "Hey. Don't freak out."

  "I can't believe we just did that," I said with a moan.

  "I can," he said simply. "All that chemistry between us? It was about time it exploded."

  "We're in the middle of a party," I insisted. "Anyone could have walked in."

  "But they didn't," he said.

  He put his arms around me, trying to gather me to him. I placed my hands on his chest, pulling away reluctantly.

  "I broke my rule. No touching until you—"

  "Go out with me," he finished.

  "Exactly," I said.

  "No." He shook his head. "I mean, go out with me. For real."

  I blinked. "What?"

  His lips quirked into a smile. "I'm asking you out on a date. Candlelit dinner, mood music, the whole thing."

  "Are you serious?" I asked.

  "Yes." He shrugged. "So what if we did this backwards?"

  "You were so against it before," I said.

  Green eyes sparkled. "Maybe that sweet pussy of yours changed my mind."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "So this really is just about getting into my pants again?"

  Damon brought a fist to his forehead and groaned. "You are so…" He blew out a breath and met my gaze straight on. "I like you. I want to take you out. And yes, after that date I would like there to be more. Is that so bad?"