Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Jade Allen

  He ran a sweaty palm through his hair and glanced at his reflection in the dusty mirror over the bar. Pushing his hand through it had given him a pleasant bed-head look, but his eyes were still worryingly bagged. Should he call it a night after this? Damian looked over at the young woman, whose eyes were trained on the bartender as she explained where the new drink had come from. The curly haired woman looked over at him curiously, but the redhead stared at the martini in shock for a few moments before looking up and smiling at him—wide enough to show dimples on both of her cheeks.

  She lifted the drink and nodded, and Damian forced himself to do the same, just to be in motion so the fine tremble in his body wouldn’t be evident from across the room. A wave of energy slid across his skin— slow and bone meltingly-hot, like lava—and the burn lingered even after she finally tore her eyes away from his.

  Good job, Damian congratulated himself as he drained the last of his beer. Now don’t screw it up. You should probably leave ASAP, in fact.

  His eyes finally noticed the television in a high corner near him, and he glued his eyes to the screen as a slow smile slid across his face. He had no idea what he was looking at, because the redhead’s dazzling grin was branded into his vision like an afterimage, so the moving pictures before his eyes might as well have been static. He felt like a stone had been sitting on his heart, and the lift in her cheeks had tumbled it over. You sound like you hit your head, he told himself sternly. It’s definitely time to leave.

  Before he could motion to close his tab, the bartender thunked down another frosty glass of Fat Tire, smiling faintly at his surprise. “From the… ‘lovely redhead’ drinking martinis. Says you’re a true gentleman.”

  Damian’s gentle smile was spreading when another voice spoke at his side, “Should have just told you that myself.”

  He turned and had to fight to hide his surprise to find the redhead standing before him. She laughed, and Damian realized he hadn’t hid it well at all.

  “I’m Rebecca—or Becca, if you like.” The woman gestured to the empty seat beside him. “May I? My friend has had enough, and I hate to drink alone.”

  He nodded and looked in time to see her friend stumbling out on coltish legs on the arm of a rotund man he hadn’t seen at the bar. “I’m Damian...wow. It’s before ten and she’s already had…enough?”

  Becca shrugged, and Damian realized she was nearly a foot shorter than him just before she settled onto the stool, which made her around five-two. “We’re celebrating. Well, she is.” She wrinkled her nose and shot a dark glance toward the now closed door, scratched and covered in faded stickers from chain restaurants and now defunct bands and brands.

  Damian didn’t say anything, but his raised eyebrows provided all the permission Becca needed.

  “She got a promotion at work, but it’s not for a good reason,” she said carefully, sipping her drink as she paused. “The boss—you saw him with her—did a favor for her once, and now he’s holding this over her head so she’ll do one back… if you know what I mean.”

  Damian was shocked—that it was happening, and that Becca was telling a man she’d just met. The shock must have shown clearly on his face, because she laughed again—the same hard, almost braying laugh that compelled him to lean closer rather than further away from the noise.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m screwing with you. It’s her thirtieth and she got a little too saucy on her birthday shots. Her husband is taking her home.”

  Damian laughed, but shock was still coursing through him, but for a different reason now. “Do you normally play jokes like that on strangers who buy you drinks? Or just ones who are clearly stuck-up tech guys like me?”

  Becca’s eyes widened with remorse, and Damian regretted the sharpness of his words. “No, oh god, no! I’m sorry, I just have this horrible sense of humor—I mean, my friends like it, and so does my mom, but that doesn’t mean you should, too.” Her cheeks were rapidly turning from cream to rose quartz to satin red, and Damian took pity on her. “I’m sorry, I’ll just…I’ll just go—”

  “No,” he said, and it cut off her speech immediately. “No, it’s fine. I can be a little stuffy at times. It was funny, I’m just…” he trailed off, wondering if he should tell the truth. Damian looked into Becca’s contrite eyes and saw nothing but warmth in their depths, so he decided to plunge ahead.

  “I kind of hate my job,” he said at last. “I used to be passionate about it, but now it’s all about the money. Just money. And now, I’m always bored and angry,” Damian said, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s terrible. I’m miserable, even though it seems like I have everything I could ever want.” He paused. “I lost all my friends building this wall around me until I became…this. And I know it probably seems like I’m some rich jerk feeding you lines so he can get off and put another notch on his bed post, but that’s not the case.”

  Becca’s frown had been neutralizing as he spoke, and now she smiled at him, her lips curving under her wonder. “Well, I’m a newspaper journalist who also hates her job, and who took it because she thought it would lead to nobility and prestige. I do alright for myself, but I’m certainly not in your tax bracket,” she said, her eyes rolling at him over the rim of her glass. “So even with all that money, you’re still not happy, Mr. Silicon Valley Millionaire?”

  “That’s right,” he admitted. “Although technically, I’m a billionaire.”

  Becca’s eyebrows shot up, and she laughed. “Billionaire, then. Gosh. And to think I almost didn’t come over here and talk to you.”

  Damian smiled. “Why did you decide to?”

  Becca leaned in as the bartender replaced her drink. “This is embarrassing, but my best friend pressured me to do it.”

  He laughed, but kindly. “Peer pressure?”

  “We live thirty miles away, in Daly City,” Becca explained, her eyes shining. “Her husband wanted us to relive the nights we used to have in college…and we kind of did,” she said, chuckling. “Laura always ended up puking, Jeff danced on tables…that’s probably why none of us drink anymore.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I was always the wild card, and I’d do anything on a dare. Laura dared me to come over and talk to you, so I was bound by the laws of best friendship.”

  Damian smiled and took a drink of his beer. “It’s sweet that you still adhere to that code. A lot of people let that kind of thing go as they get older.”

  Becca leaned a little closer to him and shrugged again. “I’m only twenty-eight. Not old enough to use age as an excuse to be a bad friend.”

  He felt his smile grow sad before Becca’s frown told him it did. “Sorry,” he said hastily. “You reminded me that a group of people I used to think were friends did exactly that five years ago. But don’t let me put a damper on things.”

  Becca looked curious now. “No, tell me about it. I want to know about you.” She smiled, and the heat beneath it sent a bolt of lust through Damian mid-sip. “That’s the real reason I came over here, after all.”

  So he did. Damian told her all about how he, Jack Summer, Roger Wolf, and Ian Rivers had all been roommates throughout college, sharing goals and ideals as well as toothpaste. Then Jack and Ian started to get money-hungry, buying tiny tech businesses and flipping them on the side for profit. Then Damian’s company got involved, and when Jack flipped it, he took credit for the surge in stock while also distancing himself from both Damian and Ian. Roger assumed they’d all been colluding and pulled out, forming an angel investment group and spreading dirt about all three of them so that their reputations were tarnished before they knew it.

  He told Becca all of this, and about his lingering pain over losing his best friends. She told him about growing up in Maine and nearly drowning in the river because her brother convinced her that she was a mermaid. They told each other secrets and stories for hours, until it was past midnight, and both of them were flustered and giggly from drinking and talking with their dizzy heads close.

  “Okay,” B
ecca said at last. “Okay…wow, I put away five of these things,” she slurred, leaning a hand on Damian’s thigh. “I really am reliving those wild college nights.” She giggled shrilly, and the sound was just as charming as her squawking laugh.

  Damian felt an odd tug on his heart, and he smiled. “I’d be studying if that were true for me,” he said, his voice louder than he realized. “And a fox like you would have never spoken to me while I was driving my daddy’s car.”

  Becca laughed and leaned against him harder, her breath smelling of gin and mint. “Fox?”

  Damian blushed, but he met her eyes, his heart pounding now that he saw how close her lips were to his. “Yeah,” he said brazenly, covering her hand with his. “Fox. A stone cold one. What of it?”

  When Becca laughed this time, her breasts brushed across his arm, and he noticed, for the first time, how full and heavy they seemed against the front of her shirt. Her thighs were shapely, perfectly filling out her black pencil skirt; he reached under the table and stroked her knee, slowly inching his hand toward her hip.

  To his surprise, Becca leaned closer, brushing her lips across his jawbone before she spoke. “Are you a lazy dog, or do you wanna jump this fox?”

  Becca turned toward him again, and Damian leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers as she did. A tide of last crashed over him, and he felt it roll over her as she shivered and strained to be nearer to him. He reached out and scooted her stool closer, and she made a soft moan of surprise, but wrapped her arms around his neck as he gently nibbled on the flesh of her bottom lip. Becca’s right hand slipped down his chest and lingered on his belt loop, and Damian’s heart nearly exploded as it finally drifted south to squeeze on the growing bulge in front of his slacks. His hands rested on her thighs, then slid slowly up until they forced up the fabric of her skirt, his fingers digging into her curves until she cried out into his kiss.

  Suddenly she was pulling back, and Damian felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He was gasping slightly, not caring that the bartender was staring.

  “Sorry,” Becca was saying as she tugged on her skirt. “Sorry. Oh god—”

  She hopped down from her stool and wobbled toward the door, hooking her purse under her arm as she wrenched the door open.

  Damian closed his tab out and ran after her, hoping he wasn’t too late. He was nearly as drunk as she was, but he spotted her in the parking lot as she was walking toward the bus station.

  “Becca!”

  Amazingly, she stopped. Damian ran until he caught up with her, and was alarmed to see that her eyes were swimming with tears.

  “I don’t do that anymore,” she said softly. “I don’t go home with pretty boys on the first night because they buy me drinks—not anymore.”

  “Then don’t,” Damian said earnestly. “I’m not asking you to.”

  Becca looked suspicious.

  “Really,” he continued. “I’m not. Becca, you’re beautiful, but that’s not what I want in a woman. I want strength, intelligence, humor…” Damian paused, dropping his eyes. When he pulled them up again, he took a chance and grabbed hold of one of her soft, warm hands. “Becca, I want you, and I want to get to know you more, if you’ll let me. And I know you feel the same about me…I can see it. I can feel it.”

  Becca was watching him silently, her eyes unreadable. Damian thought she might walk away, or even laugh in his face or slap him—but she smiled, and it was like the sun slipping out to burn away the clouds.

  “Okay,” she said. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in it.”

  ****

  “Mr. Wyles? Mr. Wyles?”

  Damian looked up to find Alexis standing over him, a look of concern on her face. “Sorry?”

  “I asked if you wanted lunch?” Alexis repeated. “Something from the bakery—”

  “No,” he cut in, smiling. “That’s fine, thank you.”

  Alexis hesitated, but she backed away, nodding. It wasn’t the first time in the last four weeks she’d found him daydreaming, and it wouldn’t be the last—not if he kept seeing Becca as frequently as he did. Hell, even if he stopped seeing her, he’d probably continue to think about her uninterrupted until the day he died, because nothing on Earth was better than being with her.

  It wasn’t an overstatement or a delusion. Spending time with Becca made him happier than anything had in years, and it showed. He was more productive while he was working, but when he wasn’t, he was reliving the previous night’s date or heavy physical encounter with eyes wide open, sometimes even with people around.

  Becca continued to keep sex off the table, but Damian was more than happy with where they were at presently. She really was the most striking woman he’d ever seen, and though she was small, she was strong and passionate and seemed as enthralled with him and he was with her. Because it sometimes took her an hour to get to his place, he sent a car for her and sent one back so she wouldn’t worry about falling asleep. They both worked early and had long hours most days, so their few hours were either languorously sensual or crammed with activity.

  Their first week, he took her to Chinatown and they had a private dinner on the rooftop of his favorite restaurant. The second week, he flew her to New York to see her favorite play on Broadway. They stayed in a swanky hotel on Fifth Avenue where he’d spent all night exploring her supple body with his mouth and tongue, kissing over her pale nipples and nibbling the mounds of her breasts as his fingers ran over the slowly dampening triangle of cloth between her legs. While he kissed her, she tugged on his throbbing shaft while he struggled to keep from exploding, not wanting the moment to end before it had to. She only let him caress her until she got close, and when his breath came too fast, she made him back off. Still, they lay together for hours, and by the third week, Damian was sending Becca roses at work every day.

  His own employees were giving him grief for it, but he didn’t mind—until something happened to bring him under a microscope.

  “Have you seen this?”

  Victor, his security expert, was showing him reports of a data breach. Their software, which was supposed to protect sensitive information and alert its users of credit changes, had somehow glitched and made thousands of customers vulnerable. Damian stared at the report helplessly, trying to understand how this could have happened. He triple checked all the code himself before it was implemented, and it was run through security walls. They’d done tests with the best hackers available, and everything had checked out. This isn’t possible, he thought, even as his eyes told him it was. It’s not happening.

  “This is bad, boss,” Miles said gravely. “People are upset. They feel exposed, upset, like we messed up—and I feel like we did.”

  Gary was nodding, but his eyes had a nasty glint. “Not trying to point fingers, but you’ve been very strict with who’s allowed to go over that code before it was implemented. Maybe if you hadn’t…”

  Damian bristled, rage flashing through him. “What are you saying, Gary? That you’re a better coder than I am?”

  Gary shrank back into his chair, but his eyes remained defiant. “I’m just saying. You’ve been understandably distracted. We dropped the ball on this one, because you always say we’re a team—but maybe we wouldn’t have dropped it if we were more of a team. Do you know what I’m saying?”

  Damian did, but he didn’t respond. The rest of the men sensed his anger and fell silent, dropping their eyes one by one.

  “Get back to work,” Damian said coldly. “All of you.”

  The shock of their faces was worth his sudden change in tone. He watched them stand and start to filter out, but their motion was stopped by Victor standing and raising his hand.

  “Just got word,” he said, peering at his tablet. “I ran a sweep, because I don’t think you’d make a lazy mistake,” he shot a look at Gary, “and it paid off. Looks like we have evidence of a bug being planted from our side that weakened our defenses, then the hack occurred.”

  Damian swallowed, his heartbe
at speeding up. “Wait. You mean…it was an attack? And someone planted the bug from within our systems?”

  Victor nodded, then frowned as he realized the implications. His eyes swept over the men, and smiled a predatory smile that held no warmth.

  “Looks like we’ll be working late tonight, boys.”

  Damian sat in his office and called Becca from his cellphone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” he said. “I have bad news.”

  “No!” Becca said. “You’re cancelling on me?”

  “Yeah.” Damian sighed. “It looked like we were hacked, and someone helped them from our side.”

  Becca gasped. “What? One of your employees?”

  “Probably a higher up,” he confirmed. “Victor is doing some questioning now, and he’s also trying to find out more about the bug.”

  Becca made a thoughtful noise. “Hey, why don’t I come visit you? You sound super stressed. I bet I can help with that.”

  Damian laughed. “Becca, I highly doubt what you’ll do to me will relieve pressure.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke again. “Are you sure about that?”

  Damian started to respond, but her velvet tones made him pause. “Are you saying you want to…”

  “Yeah,” Becca chirped.

  Damian let out a startled laugh. “Here? Now?”

  “No time like the present,” she confirmed. “I’m putting on my shoes now. But no pants,” she said softly.

  The front of his slacks were straining at the zipper when he hung up, and Damian passed a hand over his erection, his mind buzzing with thoughts. He had no idea what had made Becca decide she was ready to have sex with him, but he was incredibly grateful she was finally comfortable enough. She used sex as an ice breaker in college, she explained, but she tried to make it more personal now.

  ****