Hard Rock Heat

by Athena Wright

  I let his cock fall out of my mouth slowly, cleaning him as I went. He was still half hard. My panties were damp, my insides throbbing. I wondered how long it would be before he could go again. Still, I tucked him back into his jeans. I could have patience.

  Damon pulled me to my feet and planted his lips on mine. He breathed a heavy, pleased sigh.

  "You're fucking fantastic, you know that?" he murmured into my mouth.

  After a few more soft kisses, he tugged me closer and tucked my head under his chin. He wrapped his arms around me in a sweet embrace as the last few quakes of his body came under control.

  "So was that payback?" he asked playfully. "For all that teasing at the restaurant?"

  "Payback?" I repeated with false shock. "I would never dream of doing such a thing."

  "I would." He chuckled darkly as his hands ran down my back and cupped my ass. "I don't think I made you squirm nearly enough tonight."

  I slipped my hands into his back pockets and squeezed his ass in return. "You like seeing me squirm, hm?"

  "I love watching that flushed, needy expression of yours. So hungry. Like you're dying to have me inside you. Like my cock is the only thing in the world that can satisfy you."

  I did squirm then, my thighs clenching together. He wasn't exactly wrong.

  "I've been dreaming about your mouth for a long time, sweetness," he said. "But now I need to get inside that tight cunt of yours."

  Wetness threatened to drip down my thighs. The ache inside me was growing almost unbearable.

  "So greedy," I teased breathlessly.

  Damon opened his mouth to respond when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and tapped ignore.

  "Even on silent mode that thing is a distraction," he said.

  "You can answer it," I said.

  "You're more important."

  Was he talking about getting me into bed, or was he talking about me in general? It could have been either. Knowing that didn't stop my heart from melting in my chest a little.

  But the phone continued to buzz. He frowned in annoyance and tapped the ignore button again.

  "Fucking telemarketers," he grumbled.

  "It could be important," I said. I knew that every time my phone rang it might be that dreaded phone call about my father. "It could be Ian calling, or something to do with the band."

  Concern crossed his face. "Shit, you're right."

  The phone buzzed a third time. Damon looked at me once more, as if double checking. I nodded and gestured to the phone. He put it to his ear.

  "Hello?"

  The concern immediately transformed into rage. My heartbeat jumped.

  "I told you I never wanted to hear from you again," Damon seethed.

  He went silent, the lines around his mouth going tight. He turned on his heel and stalked into the kitchen. His low voice hissed into the phone, punctuated by moments of silence.

  Worry filled my chest. It had to be his father. Was this going to set Damon off again? We'd had such a nice evening and now…

  After a few minutes of me pacing and fretting, I stopped hearing Damon's voice. I waited a few moments before gingerly tiptoeing my way over.

  He stood in the middle of the kitchen, his phone gripped tight in his fist. He was staring at the fridge, but it didn't look like he was seeing it. His gaze was hazy, distant. Almost blank. If it weren't for his shaking fist and darkened eyes, I would have said he was simply deep in thought.

  And maybe he was.

  But whatever he was thinking couldn't have been good.

  "What's wrong?" I asked tentatively. "What happened?"

  Damon's eyes darkened and narrowed. When he spoke, I heard the fury, the fear, in his voice.

  "My father's at Ian's."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I pleaded with Damon not to do anything reckless. But of course, this was Damon. He pushed past me and stormed toward the front door. I followed him.

  "What are you going to do?" I asked, fretting.

  Damon yanked the door open. "I'm going to end this."

  Terror spiked through me.

  "I'm coming, too," I said.

  "No."

  "I'm coming," I insisted. "If you don't take me, I'll follow behind in my car like a stalker."

  "I don't want you to see this," he said.

  "If you think I'm going to let you go off—"

  "And what are you going to do to stop me?" he said shortly.

  My breath caught. I didn't think he would kill his father for real, but I had no doubt if the two of them were alone, one or both of them would could end up seriously hurt.

  "You don't have to do this," I told him, trying to sound calm and reasonable. "You can talk things out."

  "I've tried that."

  "Then try again." I placed my hand on Damon's chest. "Please. Don't go getting into trouble over that bastard."

  Damon stared at me. I stared back, resolute.

  I'm not going to let you do this, my eyes said without words.

  His gaze slid to the floor. He inhaled heavily. Then exhaled. He did it a few more times. I waited. When he looked up again, the rage in his eyes has lessened.

  "Fine," he said reluctantly. "But I'm still going. I'm not going to let him terrorize me and my brother anymore."

  I nodded. I didn't have any real plan, no idea what Damon or I could do to make his father go away once and for all, but I knew that beating him unconscious wasn't the answer.

  "We'll figure it out," I promise.

  "Let's just go," Damon said, averting his gaze.

  I followed him to the car. The ride was tense. Damon tapped his fingers on the wheel in a nervous, repetitive pattern. I clasped my hands in my lap to stop myself from fidgeting.

  Damon only lived a few short minutes from his brother's place. When we pulled up, I saw the man, Gareth Drake, standing out in front of a condo building just as expensive looking at Damon's. At least he hadn't actually gone through with his threat and approached Ian. No, he was just close enough to set Damon off. Just close enough to taunt him.

  The car came to a screeching halt. Damon flung the car door open and jumped out.

  I fumbled with the seatbelt in my haste. I didn't hear the first few words they exchanged. By the time I was out of the car, Damon's fists were already clenched. His father had raised a derisive eyebrow.

  "You think I won't go through with my threat?" The man jerked his chin toward the condo entrance. "He's right in there."

  "I told you what I'd do to you if you went near him," Damon growled. "You think I won't beat the shit out of you? Try me."

  "Here's what going to happen," Gareth said. "You're going to give me another hundred thousand. You're going to do it with a smile on your face. And the next time I ask, you're going to hand it over without giving me any lip."

  Damon laughed. "You're delusional. There's not going to be a next time. If you don't walk away now, I'll make sure you can never walk again."

  I stood still, mind racing. If Damon's dad didn't stop threatening Ian, Damon was eventually going to snap. There had to be a way to stop this.

  With slow, careful movements, I reached behind myself and took out my phone, keeping it behind my back.

  "Really?" A smarmy smirk crossed his father's face. "You're threatening me with violence? Don't you remember what happened last time?"

  Damon made a movement, as if ready to launch into his father with both fists.

  "Stop this." I stepped forward and put myself in between Damon and his dad. Damon immediately tried to pull me behind him, but I shook him off. His father squinted at me, as if confused by my presence. "You need to leave Damon and his brother alone."

  Gareth eyed me up and down. "Same one as before?" He leered. "Didn't think you fucked the same whore twice."

  Damon tried to jolt forward with a raised fist. I rushed to place a hand on his shoulder. I rubbed up and down, soothing. His muscles were tense, his arm ready to throw a punch at the slightest provocatio
n. I had to smooth this over.

  Somehow.

  "Damon's made his position clear," I said firmly. "You're going to walk away or we call the cops and have you arrested for blackmail."

  A sick grin crossed his father's face. He flicked his gaze between me and his son. "She's cute. Funny. Maybe she's more than just a good fuck."

  "You son of a b—"

  "I'm not kidding," I jumped in before Damon could blow up. "Blackmail is illegal."

  His father chuckled, slowly at first, then turning almost boisterous. "She doesn't know, hm?"

  I frowned. "Know what?" I turned to Damon, questioning.

  His eyes were pained. Haunted. His usual dynamic green eyes were darkened, almost hollow.

  "My father's a cop," he said flatly.

  I started, taken aback. A cop?

  "You try anything with me and I'll have you arrested like last time," his father said.

  My mouth dropped open. I turned to Damon slowly.

  "Last time?" I asked.

  With a clenched jaw, Damon nodded sharply. He cast his eyes down.

  "Ian… got hurt." The pause made me think it was something more than that. I didn't interrupt. "I guess I went fucking crazy, I don't know. I barely remember what happened. Next thing I know, the cops are there and my dad's face is all busted up and I'm being hauled away."

  "Of course, as a concerned father, I didn't press charges," Gareth said blithely. "Teenagers, you know? All full of hormones and testosterone, angry at their parents and lashing out for no good reason. But you're an adult now," his father continued. "If I decide to press charges, if won't go so well for you. And you can't just take your brother and run away like last time."

  "Fuck you," Damon spat.

  Shit. This was really bad. I gripped my phone in my hand, hoping, praying.

  "All these little threats are cute and all," his father continued, "But we all know how this is going to go down. Give me my money."

  "Like fuck I will," Damon said. "This ends now. No more showing up at my place. No more showing up at my brother's. I want you out of our lives."

  "And how are you going to make me?" The words were eerily similar to the words Damon has said to me earlier, but the tone, the slimy way he said them, felt like slick oil running down my back

  Damon's shoulders tensed even further, bunching, as if ready to pounce. Then his father said the one thing I knew would set Damon off.

  "Give me what I want or I'll be forced to ask my other son. I wonder how Ian will react when he sees me again after all these years?" he pretended to muse. "As I recall, it didn't end so well for him, either."

  And that did it. Damon snarled and launched himself forward. Gareth tried to duck out of the way but Damon was too fast. His fist connected with his father's jaw.

  I screamed in surprise. "Damon, stop!"

  Gareth grunted, head snapping back, but it didn't faze him for long. He immediately threw himself at his son, landing a punch in Damon's stomach. Damon reeled back with a grunt.

  "Think you're such a big man, now?" his father taunted. "Think you can beat me?" Gareth swung his own fist at Damon's face. It connected with a sickening sound.

  I yelled again. "Stop it!"

  But of course they didn't. They continued grappling with each other and throwing punches, fists and mouths turning red with blood. They panted heavily, but neither of them seemed to be slowing down. It was an even match, for now, but I could see Damon's movements getting slower, weaker. It was only a matter of time before his father got the upper hand.

  I stood, shaking, watching the fight and wondering what the hell I could do to stop this.

  A voice rang out from a few yard away, an answer to my prayers.

  Ian's voice.

  "What the fuck is going on?"

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ian appeared in the entrance of his building, with my sister beside him. Damon and his father both paused their fight, whirling their heads around as the sound of his voice. Damon let out a shocked, pained noise.

  "Ian, go back inside," Damon ordered. He flicked his gaze between his brother and his father. Ian hadn't noticed who Damon was fighting with yet.

  "First tell me why you're having an impromptu boxing match in front of my building, and then I might," his brother said.

  "Ian, please," Damon pleaded.

  "What the hell is so—" Ian cut himself off abruptly as his gaze followed Damon's. He saw his father. His eyes widened. He let out a strangled noise and stepped back. Hope laid a hand on his shoulder with a concerned expression. She held her cell phone in one hand.

  "Fuck," Damon swore under his breath. "Ian, get back inside."

  Ian ignored him "Dad…?" he asked, expression half-confused, half-pained.

  His father went silent, a scowl on his face.

  "What are you doing here?" Ian's face was white, as if all the blood had drained out of him.

  Gareth wiped a streaked of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Just needed a little favor from your brother, that's all."

  "And that's why you're beating each other up?" Ian's wide eyes narrowed, dubious. He turned to his brother. "Why didn't you tell me Dad was back?"

  "You should go back inside," Damon said instead of answering. "Let me handle Dad. You don't need to deal with all this."

  "All this?" Ian began to look incensed. "What exactly is all this?"

  Neither of them said anything. Gareth had just lost his leverage. Damon had just been confronted about his lies.

  "Start talking," Ian demanded. "Now."

  "Your father's been blackmailing Damon," I spoke up, since Damon and Gareth were clearly not going to answer. "He's been doing it for years. Extorting money. He's been threatening to go to you if Damon didn't do what he asked."

  Ian's expression twisted into disbelief. "Are you serious?"

  I nodded. I looked to my sister. She had take Ian's hand in hers, squeezing it tight.

  "What the fuck, Damon?" Ian blurted. "What— Shit—" Ian ran a frustrated hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "What the hell were you thinking?" he finally asked.

  "You didn't need to know," Damon insisted. "The last time Dad showed up, you flipped out." Damon looked at his brother with wounded eyes.

  "That was years ago," Ian said. "Things were different, then."

  "I didn't want to see you lose all the progress you've made," Damon said.

  I looked to Hope, wanting an explanation. She met my eyes and shook her head no with a slight movement. I supposed whatever Ian's deal was, it wasn't for the world to know.

  "I'm not a kid anymore," Ian said. "You don't need to protect me from everything."

  "Not everything," Damon insisted. "Just this."

  Out the corner of my eye, I saw Gareth trying to slink off.

  "Where do you think you're going?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest. "You don't get to run away after causing all this drama."

  Gareth scowled at me.

  "Have you really been blackmailing Damon for years?" Ian asked him.

  He flicked his eyes between his two sons. "I was simply collecting what's owed to me."

  "We don't owe you shit," Ian said flatly. "So you really have been extorting him for money."

  "So what if I have?" Gareth said with a snort. "I'm your father."

  "You think that means we owe you something? Go fuck yourself," Ian spat.

  "You better learn some respect, boy," Gareth said with a warning tone.

  "Or what?" Ian challenged, his eyes burning with fury.

  Damon looked between his brother and his father, expression both confused and amazed. Damon really had expected Ian to fall apart if he saw his father again. But Ian was holding his own.

  "Or I'll call my buddies down at the station and have you hauled off to jail," their father answered.

  Ian let out a derisive laugh. "Get the fuck out of my sight."

  A slow grin spread across Damon's face as he watched his broth
er confronting their dad. A glow of pride and delight shone from his eyes.

  "I said get the fuck out," Ian repeated. "You have ten seconds."

  "Ungrateful little—"

  "Five seconds."

  Gareth took a moment to glare at each of us in turn. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, to get the last word in. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked off.

  "Good fucking riddance," Ian muttered. He shocked his head and turned to Damon. "You asshole, what the fuck were you thinking?"

  Damon cringed. "I'm sorry."

  "You've been keeping this from me for years," Ian accused.

  Damon nodded miserable, not trying to deny it.

  Ian let out a sigh and pulled his brother into a hug. "You dumbass." There was both exasperation and affection in his voice. "I can take care of myself."

  "I'm your big brother," Damon insisted.

  "Stop." Ian smacked his brother in the head. "Don't pull the one minute older thing."

  "Oh my god, does he do that, too?" Hope said with a laugh. "I hate it when Faith does it."

  The four of us shared a chuckle, the tension breaking.

  "I'm sorry." Damon looked his brother straight in the eye, earnest. "I didn't mean to keep this from you for so long. But I thought it would just be the one time and he'd go away, so I didn't think you needed to know. And then he showed up again, promising this was the last time. And then it happened again. And then before I knew it he'd been doing it for years, and every time I didn't tell you, that just made it even harder."

  Ian examined his brother, scrutinizing him. He nodded. "I guess I'd be a hypocrite if I stayed mad at you for keeping secrets."

  "I really did think it was for the best," Damon said.

  "I know. But you need to stop treating me like a kid."

  "You'll always be my little brother," Damon said.

  "By one fucking minute!" Ian protested, his mouth twisting in annoyance.

  Hope nudged me in the shoulder with a grin. It was the exact same conversation we'd had ourselves over the years. It must have been a universal twin thing.

  Ian punched his brother in the shoulder. "Thank you for looking out for me."