Damien Prescott (Redemption Series, Book 4)

by Sandi Lynn

  “What?”

  “London is staying here.”

  “Excuse me?” He arched his brow. “How did that happen?”

  “Long story short. I went to her apartment yesterday because I didn’t like her attitude with me over text and a pipe burst in the wall and there was about two inches of water covering the place. She was going to go to a hotel, so I told her she could stay with me for a couple of nights until she found a new Airbnb to stay at.”

  “Seriously?” His brows furrowed. “You don’t do shit like that.”

  “I stood her up yesterday at the Empire State Building and she did do me that favor for Bradbury, so I thought I could at least let her stay in one of the guestrooms to repay the favor.”

  “Damn, Damien. I can honestly say that I’m really shocked right now. That was—that was really nice of you.”

  “Stop.” I put my hand up. “It’s only for a couple of nights.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Asleep in my bed.”

  “Excuse me?” His brow arched again.

  “We had sex this morning and again just a little bit ago.”

  “You’re fucking her now?”

  “I am a man and she is a beautiful woman. I have needs and she was here and willing.”

  A sly smile crossed his face and I knew damn well what he was thinking.

  “No!” I pointed at him. “I am not. It’s just sex.”

  “Okay. If you say so. I need a drink, man. Double bourbon on the rocks.”

  We sat up and talked until about midnight and then he went into one of the other guestrooms and I went to bed. When I walked into the bedroom, London opened her eyes.

  “Oh my god, what time is it?”

  “It’s midnight,” I spoke as I climbed in next to her.

  “Shit. I slept that long?”

  “Obviously, you needed it,” I said.

  She began to get out of bed and I stopped her by grabbing hold of her hand.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to my room.”

  “You can stay here. You don’t have to go back to your room.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s late.”

  She snuggled against me and laid her head on my chest. I nearly lost my breath.

  “By the way, Scott is here. He’s staying the night.”

  “Why?” She lifted her head and looked at me.

  “Madison kicked him out again. It happens at least every three months. They get into a fight and she makes him come here.”

  London let out a light laugh.

  “Then I shall make you both pancakes tomorrow morning.” She grinned.

  “Sounds good. But make sure you’re dressed and not in your nightshirt when he’s around.”

  “Deal.” She laid her head back on my chest.

  The next morning, my alarm buzzed, and after I shut it off, I rolled over and stared at the empty space where London lay all night. Getting up, I showered and got ready for work, and when I walked into the kitchen, I found her and Scott laughing.

  “Good morning.” London smiled.

  “Morning.” I walked over to the coffee machine and made a cup of coffee.

  “Damien, look. She made a smiley face on my pancakes. My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid,” Scott spoke with excitement.

  I took a seat at the island next to Scott and London set a plate of pancakes down in front of me.

  “The two Airbnb’s I inquired about emailed me back this morning. The one is no longer available, but the other one is.”

  “And where is that one located?” I asked.

  “Harlem.”

  “Hell no. You can forget it. You are not staying in Harlem.”

  “Damien’s right, London. You don’t want to stay there, especially by yourself.”

  “I appreciate both of your concerns, but I can take care of myself.”

  “You are not staying there. End of discussion,” I spoke in a firm voice.

  “It’s the only place I found that I can afford.”

  “Gee, I wonder why?” I cocked my head at her. “If there’s nothing else, then you’ll just have to stay here until you leave on your next adventure.”

  Scott quickly turned his head and looked at me with a shocked expression on his face.

  “You really want me to stay here?” she asked.

  “Why not? It’s free. Save the money you’d spend on an Airbnb and use it for wherever you’re off to next.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll keep looking.”

  “Why, when you can have all this? We seem to be getting along just fine. There’s no reason for you to leave right now.”

  “I don’t know, Damien. I think it’s best I leave.”

  I finished off my pancakes and looked at her as I got up and took my plate to the sink.

  “You’re staying put. End of discussion. You’re safe here and that’s the way it’s going to stay. I have to get to the office. Come on, Scott.”

  He followed me to the elevator and the moment we stepped inside and the doors shut, he smacked my arm.

  “I knew it. You are falling for her.”

  “No I’m not. The city can be a cruel place and she has a place to stay without worry and I can have sex every day if I want it.”

  “Jesus Christ, Damien. Just admit it. Come on. I’m your friend and your partner. When Katherine told you she was going to Italy by herself, you told her to have a great time. You wouldn’t even go with her.”

  “London is different,” I spoke as we walked out of the elevator.

  “Yeah. She’s different alright. You have feelings for her and you don’t want her to leave. But I got news for you, buddy, she’s leaving in a month regardless of what you say. Staying in New York isn’t her plan.”

  “I know. At least I’ll get a month’s worth of sex out of the deal.” I smirked.

  Chapter Fourteen

  London

  While I was cleaning up the kitchen, a sickness rose inside me. He wanted me to stay here with him for the rest of my time in New York. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea because then maybe I could convince him to do something other than work 24/7. If I could make him see that there was more to life than just work, I would feel I accomplished so much more than just seeing everything I wanted to here.

  I grabbed a bottle of water, took it up to my room, and pulled open the drawer to the nightstand where my bottles of pills lay. I closed my eyes for a moment as a throbbing headache started to emerge.

  “No. Not today, Teaghan. I wanted to go out and see things,” I spoke to myself. “Damn you!”

  I took my pills and lay down on the bed. Maybe I’d just rest for a while and then work on my blog and update all my followers on what I’d been doing while in New York.

  When I awoke, I looked at my phone and it was two o’clock. Shit. I’d been asleep for six hours. I also noticed I had six text messages from Damien. I heard the elevator ding, so I climbed out of bed and stood at the top of the stairs.

  “Why the fuck can’t you respond to my text messages?” Damien asked in anger as he stepped off the elevator.

  “I just saw them. I was taking a nap.”

  “Since nine o’clock this morning?”

  “Yeah. I had a headache. I didn’t plan on sleeping that long.”

  “Is your headache better?” he asked in a calmer voice.

  “Yes.” I smiled. “Why are you here and not at work?”

  “Because you didn’t respond to my text messages. I thought maybe you disobeyed my orders and moved to Harlem.”

  “Disobeyed your orders?” I laughed. “You cannot and will not order me around.”

  “Okay, maybe I worded that wrong.”

  “To put your mind at ease, I’ve decided to take you up on your offer and stay here until my time in New York is up.”

  “Good. You’re a smart girl.”

  “On one condition.”

&nbs
p; “What is your condition?” He sighed.

  “You take me to see the sights of New York.”

  “I can’t do that, London. I have a job and a lot of work to do. I run a company. A company I built from the bottom up. I’m not taking time away from that to show you around the damn city.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. “Then I guess I’m moving to Harlem.”

  “The hell you are.” He pointed his finger at me.

  “Damien Prescott,” I spoke as I slowly walked down the stairs and stood in front of him. “This is the last time I’m going to say this.” I pressed my finger into his chest. “You do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. You are not my keeper. You are not my husband. You are not even my boyfriend. You have no claim on me whatsoever. Understand?” I spoke in a firm voice.

  His jaw clenched and anger filled his eyes.

  “I’ve been traveling alone for months. I’ve been on my own since my mother passed away, and I don’t answer to anyone. Got it? You came all the way home to yell at me for not answering your text messages. You’re here and you don’t need to go back to the office. I want to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and I would like you to come with me,” I spoke in a stern voice, my finger still pressed into his chest.

  “Fine,” he spoke with anger. “You want to go to the damn museum, then let’s go!”

  “Thank you. I just need to change. I’ll be right back.” I smiled.

  Damien

  The nerve of that woman. Who the hell did she think she was? I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Joslyn.

  “Hello, Mr. Prescott,” she answered.

  “Joslyn, I won’t be coming back to the office today. Reschedule my four o’clock meeting with the staff.”

  “What? You’re not coming back? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m feeling fine. I have something I need to take care of,” I spoke in a stern voice.

  “Okay. See you tomorrow morning,” she said.

  I ended the call, and within seconds, my phone rang and it was Scott.

  “What?” I answered.

  “Joslyn just said you aren’t coming back and you cancelled the staff meeting. What the hell is going on?”

  “I’m taking London to the art museum.”

  “What?” He laughed.

  “Just be quiet. Did you talk to Madison?”

  “Yeah. She told me I could come home tonight. I’ll swing by and pick up my things.”

  “Okay. Just let yourself up in case I’m not home.”

  “Will do, Damien. Have fun.” He chuckled.

  “I’m ready.” London smiled as she walked down the stairs.

  “Just for the record, I’m working the second we get back here.”

  “That’s fine.”

  We exited the lobby of my building and I hailed a cab for us. When we climbed inside, the cab driver was the same one who drove us the other day from her Airbnb to my penthouse.

  “Hello there,” He smiled. You two again.”

  “Hi.” London smiled back.

  “Metropolitan Museum of Art,” I spoke in an irritated tone.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s just mad because I’m taking him away from his work.”

  “He was mad last time he was in my cab,” the driver said.

  “He’s always in a constant state of madness. And you want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because he works too much.”

  “You,” I pointed to the driver, “concentrate on the road, and you,” I pointed to London, “be quiet.”

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “You’re going to be okay, Damien.”

  I sighed as I shook my head and looked out the window. The driver pulled up to the museum and I slid my credit card through and handed him a cash tip.

  “Thank you.” London smiled at him as she climbed out.

  “You’re welcome. Have a good time.”

  “May I ask why you wanted to come here so bad?” I asked.

  “I love art. When I was a kid, I used to read all about Renaissance artists. Plus, this the largest art museum in the United States.”

  I purchased our tickets and our journey began. I watched her as she looked around at the architecture of the building. Her eyes danced with delight as a smile never left her lips. Being here made her happy. We walked around and looked at all the various art. I’d been here a thousand times, so none of it was new to me. But to her, it was, and I could tell she was taking every bit of it in.

  She stopped in front of the first painting she saw by Claude Monet and stared at it intently.

  “Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love,” she spoke.

  “Huh?” I glanced over at her.

  “That was a quote by Claude Monet. He’s saying we don’t need to understand what he paints, we just need to find the beauty in what we’re seeing. Kind of like people. Sometimes we don’t need to understand them or try to understand them. We just need to love them.”

  “Oh,” I spoke. “Did you know he tried to kill himself because of financial difficulties? See, money was important to him too.”

  She rolled her eyes at me and walked away.

  “What? It’s true.”

  They announced over the speaker that the museum would be closing in fifteen minutes.

  “We better wrap this up. They’re getting ready to close. Plus, I’m starving, so we need to go grab some dinner.”

  I took hold of her hand, the first time since we’d been out, and led her out of the museum.

  “What are you in the mood for?” I asked.

  “Pizza.” She grinned.

  “Okay. We’ll go to Serafina’s, then.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  London

  After eating an amazing pizza and salad, we went back to Damien’s penthouse. The thing I noticed was when we were at the museum, he seemed a little more relaxed and his anger about having to miss work seemed to have dissipated slightly.

  “I’m going into my study to work. What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I think I’m going to take a bath.”

  “Use my master bathroom. You’ll like it a lot better.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I smiled.

  I uploaded all the pictures I’d taken since I arrived in New York onto my laptop. I opened up my blog and began writing about my experience here so far. I was flooded with messages from people asking me where I’d been the past few days.

  “London?” Damien opened the door.

  I shut my laptop and set it beside me on the bed.

  “Hi.”

  “I thought you were going to take a bath?”

  “I am, right now. I just wanted to get the pictures I’d taken uploaded on my laptop.”

  “It’s been an hour.”

  “I know.” I got up from the bed. “I had to go through each one and see if they needed editing. Why are you checking up on me?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking about maybe joining you.” He smirked.

  “Really?” I grinned. The two of us taking a bath together?”

  “It’s just a thought. If you don’t want to.”

  “I didn’t say that, Mr. Prescott.” I smiled as I grabbed his shirt and led him downstairs.

  We stepped into the bathroom and Damien started the water.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I left the bathroom, ran up the stairs, and grabbed a rose-scented bubble stick I bought from Lush.

  “What is that?” he asked as I held it under the stream of water.

  “A bubble stick from Lush. It’s amazing. You’ll love it. I hope you like the scent of roses.”

  “Really, London?”

  “Yes. Trust me.” I smiled.

  He climbed in first and lay back. After stripping out of my clothes, I climbed in and snuggled my body against his. I could instantly feel his cock getting hard and pressing against me.r />
  “Really, Damien?”

  “What? Like I can help it. I just watched you strip out of your clothes, your body is amazing, and now you’re lying against me in a bubble-filled tub naked. I am a man, after all.”

  I let out a laugh as I lay in his arms and thought about how nice this was.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “You’re what? Around thirty-ish?”

  “I’m thirty years old. Why?”

  “How is it that you own such a successful advertising business worth millions at your age?”

  “I started selling my advertising services when I was fifteen years old. Like I told you before, I came from poverty. My mother was a drug addict and my father was an alcoholic. They spent whatever money they made on drugs and alcohol. I had nothing. I slept on a mattress on the floor and wore shoes that were too small. I spent my days after school in the library and on the computer, just so I didn’t have to go home. One day, I ran across this ad for a bike shop and it was the worst ad I’d ever seen. So I played around and created a new ad, emailed it to the company, and told them that I thought this was a way better concept for them. They loved it and asked me if I could do more. I did and they paid me. I thought if I could do that for them, I wondered what other companies would like my ideas, so I started searching and found a couple more. I saved every single dime, and when I was sixteen, I left home and never looked back.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I came here. I’m originally from New Jersey. I rented a room from a nice old lady who needed the extra cash and enrolled in high school so I could finish and get my diploma. That was where I met Scott. He had the same visions as me. We started traveling from company to company pitching ideas. Some loved us, some didn’t. Their loss. It wasn’t easy, but we kept at it. We both made our first million by the time we were nineteen years old. We invested, took some college classes about business and finance, and when we turned twenty-one, we opened the doors to the Prescott Group. So now do you understand why I work as hard as I do? Why work is my life?”

  “I do understand and I’m sorry about your parents and how they treated you.” I lifted my head and looked at him. “You’re letting fear control your life.”