Ian punched his brother in the shoulder. "Thank you for looking out for me."
Damon punched him back. He winced and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were cut up. "I haven't been in a fight like that in a while. I'm rusty."
"It's late," Ian said. "We still need to talk about this, but for now you should go home and let Faith patch you up."
Damon pulled his brother into one last hug. "You know I love you."
Ian returned the hug. "I love you, too." He pulled back with a grin. "Even when you are a fucking idiot."
A sentiment I knew all too well.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Damon was quiet on the drive back to his place. I put up with the silence for a while before the tension got to me.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked.
He didn't pretend not to understand what for. "A little."
"Oh."
"You really shouldn't have called Ian without telling me."
I nodded. "I know. I overstepped."
Damon went silent for few minutes before speaking. "I know you were only trying to help."
"Everything worked out for the best in the end," I said tentatively.
"It did," Damon agreed. "But it might not have."
I stared at my hands, clasped in my lap.
Damon reached over and took one of my hands in his. "I forgive you."
Relief blossomed in my chest. I hated the thought of Damon being upset with me. Usually it was me being upset with him.
Now that I knew how much it sucked, I'd have to try and be more patient with him, more forgiving.
When we got to his place I went straight to the bathroom and looked under the sink for a first aid kit.
"Go sit." I pointed to one of kitchen chairs.
"I'm really okay," he said, but he obeyed nonetheless.
"You're bloody and bruised."
"Only a little."
"You should have been less reckless," I scolded. "What if you'd really hurt your hands? What if you'd broken something and it hurt your ability to play guitar?"
The alarmed expression on Damon's face told me the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "Shit."
"Shit is right," I nodded. "Next time you want to get into a fight with someone, use your words."
"Sometimes words don't work."
"They did this time. Promise me."
Damon grumbled. "I promise."
"Thank you."
I cleaned the wounds and rubbed in some salve. They were only a few very small cuts and they had stopped bleeding entirely.
"These look like they're going to be fine," I said. "I don't think we need to wrap you up in bandages like a mummy."
"Thanks." Damon opened his legs and pulled me between them. He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You'd make a very good nurse."
"I make an even better event planner." My face fell. "That's coming up soon. There's still so much to do."
"Hey." Damon cupped my cheeks and pulled my head down to his. "It's going to be an awesome event."
"I hope so."
"I know so," he said confidently. "Because you're the one running it and you're awesome."
I smiled. "You keep flattering me and I'll end up with an ego as big as yours."
"It's not only my ego that's big."
Damon pulled me closer, until our hips pressed together. His length was hardening under the zipper of his jeans.
I raised a teasing eyebrow. "Now? Really? Don't you think you should give yourself time to recover first?"
"It's that adrenaline rush," he explained. "Makes you want to fuck."
I laughed and brought my lips to his. "You never need a reason to want to fuck."
"Mm, keep talking dirty," he murmured, his mouth mere inches from mine. His hands skimmed my hips, tracing along the hem of my skirt until he found the zipper at the back. He slowly pulled it down until the skirt was loose enough to fall from my hips to the floor. His fingers went to the buttons of my blouse and undid them one by one. He pushed it off my shoulders, leaving me only in my bra and panties. He traced the bare skin of my sides, thumbs just barely brushing the undersides of my breasts. Shivers went through me.
I tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. He immediately tossed it over his head, revealing hard muscles. I allowed myself the pleasure of running my hands all over that taut, inked skin. He was warm under my palm. His muscles twitched with every stroke up and down.
He tugged me down to sit on his legs, legs spread on either side. He swept my long hair to the side and pressed kisses along my neck and shoulder. I moaned. He bit down. I gasped, the slight sting almost better than the soft kisses. He soothed the spot with his tongue.
That fascinating hardness was rising rapidly beneath his jeans. I scooted forward as far as I could, pressing myself against him. The heat of him burned through me, even through the layers of clothing. I cupped him through the dark denim. He hissed.
He quickly unfastened my bra with one hand and threw it to the ground. He attacked my nipples with lips and teeth and tongue. I buried my hands in his hair, holding him close. I rocked against him in time, feeling him grow harder and harder.
He growled. "Fuck, sweetness, I need to be inside you. Now."
I nodded breathlessly. He flipped us around, pressing me down against the mattress on my front, my hips digging into the side of the bed, my ass in the air. He stood behind me, running a hand up and down my back. He slowly peeled my panties off my hips and down my legs, exposing me. I shivered, knowing his eyes were fixed on me, knowing that he could see how wet I was for him already.
He leaned down until his chest was against my back.
"You want me, sweetness?" he whispered into my ear.
"Yes," I said shakily.
"You want my cock pounding that sweet cunt of yours?"
"Yes," I moaned.
My insides were throbbing with want, with need. Something deep inside me ached to be filled, and Damon was the only one who could satisfy me.
The rustle of fabric told me he was easing out of his jeans and boxers. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out protection. The head of his cock nudged against my inner thigh. I whined, low in my chest, needy and wanton. He arranged himself at my entrance. I squirmed, urging him on.
With a grunt and a single push, he thrust himself inside me.
I let out a choked moan as he spread me open, his cock piercing me to the core. On and on he went, the angle allowing him to go deeper and deeper. He finally bottomed, his lower abs pressed against my ass.
"So fucking sweet," he murmured. He ran that soothing hand up and down my back again. His hips jerked. "Fuck, your cunt is so hot and tight."
He wasn't moving, just staying there, buried inside me. I whined again, wiggling my hips back and forth.
"You want something?" he asked, wickedly amused.
"Fuck me!" I demanded.
He pulled out slowly, before thrusting back in with a groan. He did it again and again, until he was pounding, fast and deep, just like he said he was going to. My fingers dug into the sheets, clawing and flexing as I held on. The movements sent me jerking forward and backward, almost rough. Every brush of his cock head against my inner walls sent pleasure soaring through me, sparks shooting from my core, to my belly, and out to the tips of my fingers and toes.
But it wasn't enough. I needed more.
"Touch me," I moaned. "Please."
He brought a hand to my wet clit, using his fingers and thumbs to play and stoke and pinch. The pleasure intensified, every molecule of my being singing with a thrilled delight. My inner muscles squeezed and rippled around him, getting ready, almost close.
His cock also began to twitch and pulse, a warning that he was just as near to the edge. He snapped his hips, pushing in and out wildly. He choked out a grunt.
"You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart," he said through clenched teeth. "You need to come now."
I panted wildly, body tensing, striving to reach that beautiful point. He
began rubbing my clit in circles, hard and fast, pressing down in just the right spot. I was so close, almost there, I just needed a little bit more—
"Come for me, Faith," Damon demanded.
I exploded, fireworks spreading through me, bright light surrounding me. I trembled and gasped and clenched and released, fluttering around his cock. The tightness was too much for him, and with his own choked cry he came, shuddering against me.
We shook and panted, bodies straining, until finally the pleasure abated somewhere, and we came back to our senses. Damon fell to the mattress, making sure to end up beside me, not on top, avoiding crushing me under his weight.
I rolled until I was on my back. My thighs and lungs burned from exertion.
Worth it.
We turned our heads and gazed into each other's eyes.
"You're fucking amazing, you know that?" Damon said.
"Says the rich, gorgeous, famous rock star," I teased.
"There's thousands of rich, gorgeous, famous people out there," he said. "There's only one Faith Briars."
My heart melted in my chest. I shifted over until I was lying on his chest. I rested my head against his heart, hearing it thump madly as he caught his breath.
"I love you," I said quietly.
He pressed a kiss to my hair and wrapped his arms around me.
"I don't deserve it," he said. "But I'm so fucking thankful every day that you do."
He pulled the covers over us, tucking me in next to him.
We fell asleep in each other's arms.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"I'm sure you all know why I called this meeting," August began.
"That's not an ominous start at all," Damon muttered.
Ian jammed his elbow in his brother's ribs. "He called us all together because you're a dumbass."
"I don't see why you wanted us here, too," one of their girlfriends said. The other girls and I nodded.
"We're here because an alteration happened that affects all of us," August continued.
Several days had passed since the confrontation with Damon and Ian's father. We'd thought everything was fine. Then Damon had gotten a call from August, the band's drummer and leader, calling a band meeting. The chagrin on Damon's face had been almost funny, like a kid being scolded by a parent for sneaking cookies from the cookie jar.
Damon told me I'd been invited to the meeting — the word invited being a polite version of, get your ass over here.
When Damon and I arrived at band's music studio, the room was already full. Ian was there with Hope, and August was there with his girlfriend Cassie, the one who had mistaken me for my sister at that party.
There were four others I'd only briefly met before. A man with bright, fire-engine red hair, clearly dyed, had his arm around a tall young woman with striking dark hair and eyes. With those features, she closely resembled the last man in the room, who was sitting next to a pretty brunette.
The red head was Cameron Thorne, the crazy party animal. I knew his girlfriend was Lily, sister to the lead singer Noah Hart. I believed Jen was the name of the girl next to him, but I could have been wrong.
Trying to keep track of names and faces was making me dizzy.
"Do you want to tell them the story, or should I?" August asked Damon.
"You make me sound like a naughty schoolboy," Damon protested.
August just stared at him patiently.
Damon's mouth twisted, disgruntled. "My dad's been blackmailing me for money for years," he said reluctantly. "I never told anyone cause he threatened Ian."
The room went silent.
"Your brother's right," Noah spoke up. "You are a dumbass."
Damon gave him the finger.
"What does this have to do with us?" Lily asked.
"Gareth Drake showed up at my house, falling down drunk," August replied.
"Wait, what?" Damon and Ian both said at the same time.
"What the hell?" Cameron blurted.
"Oh my god," Jen said.
Noah just looked taken aback.
"He told me he would press charges against Damon for assault if I didn't give him money." August pressed his lips together. "After what happened last time, he knew I'd do anything to protect the band."
"I hope you told him to fuck off," Noah said. Jen shushed him.
A bone-chilling smile crept across August's face. "I imparted upon him the consequences if he so much as contacted any one of us again." The scary look on his face faded into concern. "Still. He showed up while Cassie was there. I would hate to think what might happen if he showed up at one of your places while Lily or Jen were there."
"So what's the plan?" Lily asked.
"For now I've got people keeping an eye on him," August said. "But I just wanted you all to be aware that this guy is around and trying to cause trouble."
"Sounds like he's been around and trying to cause trouble for years," Cameron muttered. Lily laid a hand on his arm. The tension he held in his shoulders eased, but the frown on his face stayed. "Seriously man, what the hell were you thinking, keeping this from everyone for so long?"
"Like you're one to talk," Damon said bluntly. He eyed each of them. "None of you can say shit to me when it comes to secrets."
Every single person in the room turned various degrees of shame-faced, from Lily and August's visible winces, to the slight twitch of Noah's eyebrow. They all nodded and murmured their agreement.
My heart sank, guilt and remorse swirling in my gut.
I wasn't really lying to Hope, I reasoned to myself. I just wasn't telling her the whole story.
A lie of omission is still a lie, my inner voice snarked. I told it to quiet down.
"Now that we're all here, we need to discuss something else," Ian said.
Cameron groaned. "What else did your idiot brother do?"
"Not him. August." Ian gave the drummer a pointed stare. "We're supposed to be playing at Damon's charity event." He left the rest unspoken.
"I'm fine," August said immediately. Cassie poked him in the side. "I will be fine," he amended.
"What do the doctors say?" Cameron asked Cassie directly, bypassing August.
"They say he's not quite ready to go back to playing right now," Cassie said matter-of-factly. August scowled. "But they also said he'll probably be fine by the event, as long as he takes it easy and rests and does his physical therapy."
"Which I've been doing," August jumped in. "I'm not straining myself. I'll be fine to perform."
Cameron and Noah looked at each other skeptically.
"We don't want you working yourself too hard," Ian said.
"We don't need you to relapse," Damon continued.
"We just want you to be okay," they both said at the same time.
August's lips twitched into a smile. "You guys. I am okay. I promise." He wrapped his arm around his girlfriend. "I have Cassie to keep me in line, after all."
The group relaxed somewhat, although Noah and Cameron still looked concerned.
With nothing else to discuss about, the meeting was declared over. Damon threw his arm around me. We had planned another dinner date. He'd told me to put the vibe in my purse.
I shivered thinking about it.
My phone pinged with an alarm reminder. I checked it. My heart sank.
"Shit," I murmured. "I forgot it's Wednesday."
"What's so wrong about Wednesdays?" Damon asked.
"It's nothing," I said quickly. "I just have to skip dinner tonight."
"What? Why?" Damon looked concerned. "We don't have to do the vibe thing if you don't want. It can just be normal dinner."
I shook my head. "No, that's not it."
Damon looked at me curiously. "What is it, then?"
"I've just got to go now," I said vaguely, distinctly aware that Hope was only a few feet away.
"Go where?"
"It's just have something I need to do."
He snorted. "Because that's not evasive at all." He eyed me glancing
at Hope. "No, really. What's up? You look upset."
"I just have a thing," I said lamely, trying to think up a lie on the spot and coming up empty.
"Right. A thing." He shook his head. "I thought we just finished having a conversation about secrets?"
"This isn't a secret," I said with an uncomfortable pang in my stomach. "I'm just busy tonight."
"Should I ask Hope what's got you so upset?" Damon asked.
"No!"
Damon paused, taken aback at my reaction. "I'm coming with you," he said.
"No you're not."
"Why are you're always so stubborn?"
"Look who's talking."
"I'm not stubborn, I'm an impulsive asshole, remember?"
"How could I ever forget?"
"And here I thought you looooved me?" Damon drawled, teasing. "Are you going to keep secrets from the man you love?"
I let out an exasperation sigh and ran my hands through my hair, smoothing it down. "You're not going to give up, are you?"
"Nope."
I cast my eyes down. "Fine. Let's go."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"What the hell happened here?" Damon blurted, taken aback by the state of my father's living room.
"This actually isn't half bad," I murmured.
Traffic was light this time of night. We made it to my dad's house in no time.
When we arrived, I was almost pleasantly surprised. The front door had been locked. There were only a few soda cans strewn around the living room and a handful of take-out containers left on coffee tables. The carpet was full of crumbs, though, and there was a pile of clothing in a corner, as if someone had kicked them out of the way haphazardly. Every curtain was drawn closed to block out light. The air smelled musty and stale, as if the windows hadn't been opened in weeks. The television wasn't on, for once.
I supposed it could have been better.
"Someone actually lives in this mess?" Damon muttered, looking around with consternation.
"Dad?" I called out.
A low sound came from the kitchen. I followed it, stepping over cans and avoided the crumbs crushed into the carpet. Damon trailed behind me, eyes wide.
Hard Rock Heat: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 5) Page 17