Hard Rock Heat Page 6

  I did, however, care about pleasing my client.

  But it wasn't a sense of professional pride I felt. This was less familiar.

  I'd felt the same way after he told me my sexting message was hot.

  As much as I tried to deny it, some part of me did want Damon's approval.

  I hated that I felt that way. Who the hell cared what Damon thought of me?

  "I actually wanted to come see you in person before our meeting at your office," he said.

  "Oh?" Was he going to bring up the dating thing?

  "Your intern," he said. "Is she single?"

  I gritted my teeth at the smirk on his face.

  "Kidding," he said. "I wanted to tell you I've got a few friends on board. I thought you might want to know sooner rather than later. I know you hate things being sprung on you at the last minute."

  My jaw slowly unclenched. I supposed that was thoughtful of him. Sort of. Maybe.

  "And you couldn't tell me through email?" I asked.

  "I wanted to see your face when I told you." He looked at me expectantly. "Diana Six has agreed to sponsor the event."

  "Diana Six." I blinked. "The same Diana Six I'm wearing right now on my feet?"

  "They're going to bring donated clothing," Damon said. "Professional work outfits, slacks and collared shirts, stuff like that. Help give the kids a leg up when looking for jobs."

  My mouth dropped open, speechless.

  "And here I thought you weren't a fangirl," he said when I couldn't make words leave my mouth.

  "I don't think you understand how many pieces of Diana Six clothing I have in my closet," I finally managed to say.

  "I'm sure I have an idea. Your sister told me."

  I took in a slow breath, calming myself. This was beyond awesome. Katherine had been right — this might end up being the event of the year. That also meant the probability of something going wrong was even higher. I should have been intimated or overwhelmed. Instead, the challenge made it just that much more exciting.

  I really did love my job.

  "How did you pull that off?" I asked.

  "You know those models I fuck in the back of limos?" he said. "Turns out they've got connections."

  "I'm surprised any of them still talk to you after being thrown aside."

  "Hey, the girls I sleep with know the deal. It's all just fun."

  "You've got a weird sense of fun."

  Damon's phone rang before he could respond.

  "Sorry, you mind if I answer?" he asked.

  I was surprised he even asked. Damon seemed the type to take phone calls or text whenever he felt like it no matter whom he was supposed to be speaking with in person at the time.

  I gestured for him to go ahead and went back to taking pictures. I'd need to speak to the stadium manager, or whoever kept it operating, to find out its max capacity. I didn't want the fire marshals to shut us down because the event turned into a fire hazard.

  After a few more snaps, I turned back to Damon, planning to tell him I was done and ready to leave.

  His head was bowed, hair falling to cover his forehead and cheeks. What I could see of his face was pale, his bloodless lips pressed together firmly. He spoke into the phone with low tones. I couldn't hear what he was saying. His pale face made him look ill.

  Concern immediately began to gnaw at my chest. I'd never seen Damon like that. I'd rarely seen anyone like that.

  I stood to the side, awkwardly waiting while he finished his conversation. His voice rose at the end, a near hiss, lips curling into a sneer. He said a final word and dropped the phone from his ear. He looked at it like it was a snake ready to bite, his fingers clutched tight around it.

  "You okay?" I asked carefully.

  He nodded sharply. "Yeah," he said, not looking at me.

  "Was it bad news?"

  He jerked his head no. When he lifted his eyes to mine, they were full of a muted pain, with something close to fear in the whites of his eyes.

  "I gotta go," he said shortly. He shoved his phone into his pocket and stalked off, back and shoulders stiff.

  "Are you sure—" I began to ask, but he was already halfway across the field.

  Confused and not a little worried, I waited until he was gone before following his path.

  I'd seen Damon flirt and smirk and tease, but I'd never seen him like this. The closest to upset he'd been was when mentioning Ian and Hope's gross honeymoon stage. Even when I'd inadvertently touched on a sore subject when asking about his family, he'd merely gone quiet and changed the subject.

  I pulled out my own phone and sent a quick text.

  Hope you're okay, I wrote. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.

  The reply didn't come quickly, but when it did it was curt.

  I'm fine.

  Lips pursed, I had to assume this was Damon's way of saying mind your own business.

  A few minutes later, as I was getting into my car, my phone pinged again with another text.

  Thank you, it said.

  Heart squeezing in my chest, I stared at his message for far too long before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and driving away.

  Chapter Nine

  Damon wasn't my only client. I still had to answer emails, talk with vendors, attend meetings and do all the other dozens of things that took up my day when not at an actual event.

  I was able to pass most of it over to Katherine. Since I'd mentioned the coordinator position, she'd been more keen than usual. I didn't need to ask her to take on some of my work. She eagerly asked every morning and afternoon if there was anything else she could do to help.

  Although part of it was her trying to prove herself, I had a sneaky suspicion she had an ulterior motive. The more work she did for me, the more chances she had at running into Damon — and potentially the other members of Darkest Days. The girl was a perfect mix of me and my sister — workaholic and starry-eyed fangirl all in one.

  With my mind occupied by my busy job, I didn't have much time to think about Damon, or his weird phone call. He hadn't messaged me at all since that day in the stadium. I'd thought he would continue torturing me through text, but he was oddly silent. I didn't know whether to take that as a good sign. Maybe I'd shut him down enough times he'd gotten the hint. Or maybe that phone call had been more serious than I'd thought.

  Alright, so I lied. Despite being inundated with work, I had been thinking about that man more than I should have.

  It was when I'd found myself checking my phone for the tenth time that day, wondering if I'd missed a message from him, that I realized I had a problem. I decided to call my sister. She'd know if Damon was okay. At the very least, she could discreetly ask her boyfriend about his brother.

  "Hey Faith," Hope asked, breathless, after answering her phone on the sixth ring.

  "Sorry, you busy?" I asked.

  "No, just— Stop it!" She squeaked and laughed, the sound muffled through the phone's speaker, as if she held her hand over it.

  "Am I interrupting something?"

  "No, no, it's fine." I heard her shush someone. "What's up?"

  I hesitated, pondering how to phrase this without giving anything away. Finally I decided to just come out with it.

  "Have you heard from Damon recently? Is he okay?"

  I could see Hope's frown in her voice. "No, why? Is something wrong?"

  "We had a meeting the other day." It was only a sort of lie. "He got a phone call and it seemed to upset him."

  I heard Hope murmur something to the person she'd shushed. She returned to the phone. "Ian says Damon seemed fine the last time he talked to him."

  "That's good."

  "Are you worried about him?" Hope sounded suspicious.

  "He's a client now," I hedged. "I need to make sure nothing's going on that might jeopardize the event."

  "I see," she drawled, not sounding convinced. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know."

  After saying our goodbyes, I went back to my work. If
Ian didn't notice anything wrong, whatever had bothered Damon couldn't have been too bad.

  Still, I couldn't get the look on his face out of my head.

  It was getting close to the end of the day. Most everyone in the office had already packed up and were getting ready to leave. A few of us always stayed late, either to work, or just to avoid the rush hour traffic. For me it was a bit of both. There was always some sort of work to do, so why not stay late and avoid being stuck in my car for an extra hour?

  I'd just finished writing one last email for the day when my phone pinged. It wasn't the sound of a new email being received. It was the new text message sound. My heart did a little skip and jump as I almost rushed to pick it up. I told myself to calm down. I made myself hit send on the last email, shut down my laptop and pack up my bag before checking the phone.

  A slight wave of relief washed over me when I saw it was Damon. Then my cheeks burned as I saw his message.

  You ready for another hot sexting session? it read.

  I'm at work, I replied.

  That's not a no.

  I snorted. I already proved to you I can sext. Why would I do it again?

  Cause it was hot as fuck and you can't deny it.

  He was right. I couldn't. I changed the subject instead.

  Is everything okay now? I asked.

  Sure, why wouldn't it be?

  I wanted to bring up the phone call, but if Damon didn't want to talk about it, I wouldn't pry. It wasn't my place.

  So you're still at work? he asked. Why don't you go lock the door to your office and we get this started.

  I had to laugh. You're determined to get me talking dirty, aren't you?

  Doesn't have to be talk, he wrote back.

  Are you going to send me a dick pic or something? I asked.

  Do you want one? he asked.

  And what makes you think I'll find a picture of that arousing? I wrote back.

  Why don't I show you and we find out? he countered.

  Go on then, try to impress me, I wrote, trying to convey my snark through text.

  My phone went silent for a few moments, before it pinged again. This time, there was no message. Instead, it was a photo.

  A photo of Damon's hand.

  A photo of Damon's hand wrapped around himself, hard and stiff, the tip just peeking through his fingers.

  My breath caught. A hot flush went through me.

  I showed you mine, he texted when I didn't write back. Now you show me yours.

  We're not kids anymore, Damon, I scolded, typing with shaky hands.

  Good thing, or else you'd get in trouble for having a photo of my dick on your phone.

  I began to type the words, You're such a…. but didn't finish the sentence. Damon was so many things I didn't even know where to begin. Another series of messages flashed while I tried to think how to reply.

  I can just imagine the flush on your face right now, he wrote. You're probably bright red. Bet you can't get the sight of my cock out of your mind. You'll be thinking about it for days. Thinking about how good it would feel to touch me with your own hands. Thinking about how good it will feel to have me inside you.

  Damon had called it. My cheeks were red. My belly was tight. My mind was in the gutter.

  Sexting really was hot.

  I snuck a glance out the window of my office. The blinds were pulled down. No one would be able to see in. It was late in the evening. I was probably the only one left.

  I have no idea why I did what I did. I'd never done something like this before. Maybe it was because I liked feeling naughty. Maybe because Damon's words had more power over me than I'd ever thought.

  I quickly unbuttoned the first few buttons of my blouse, revealing just a hint of my purple lace bra. I angled the phone towards my chest and snapped a quick pic.

  Damon had me doing a lot of things without thinking. I didn't know if that was going to end up being a good thing or a bad thing. All I knew was that heat had begun pooling in my core, and it had been way too long since I'd felt that way.

  A little harmless flirting couldn't hurt, right?

  I hit the send button before I could think twice.

  Fuck, came the single curse word. Your tits are gorgeous.

  That now familiar sense of pride came over me.

  I just wanna suck on them 'til you're squirming and panting for more, he wrote.

  That's never gonna happen, I wrote back.

  Why, because you don't let guys suck on your tits if you're not dating?

  Yes, I said simply.

  But you'll send them dirty photos? he continued. What else do you do with guys you're not dating?

  I let them have a little taste of what they're missing until they decide to man up and ask me out properly. I didn't even try to hide the snappy tone behind the words.

  My phone went silent for long minutes.

  Exactly how much of a taste are we talking about here? he finally wrote.

  What do you mean? I asked.

  Send me a pic of you touching yourself.

  I let out a vexed laugh.

  Don't push your luck, I wrote. Cleavage shots are all you get.

  Damn. I was hoping to get some more wank material.

  Good night Damon, was all I wrote.

  I put my phone on silent mode and threw it in my purse before gathering my things and leaving the office. I knew he'd probably responded after my last text, but I was determined to ignore it.

  I had succumbed to that man's desires far too much for my liking. I was doing things I'd never done before. Naughty things. Dirty things. I was losing control over myself.

  But a small kernel of doubt still rose inside me.

  I sort of… liked the way I felt around Damon. I liked how he made me feel. Whether he was being an obnoxious ass or making stupid jokes, talking with him, bantering with him, was sort of fun, in an odd way. And it had been a long time since I'd done anything I could consider fun.

  Despite my phone being on silent, I still felt the vibrations in my purse. After several minutes, I gave in and checked it.

  Guess I'll have to find someone else to give me those wank pics, he'd written.

  My heart clenched in my chest.

  Who was I kidding. I had to stop torturing myself.

  Yes, this thing between us was hot, and yes, it had been a while since I'd last felt the way, but nothing was going to happen.

  Damon didn't date.

  I didn't sleep around.

  That was all there was to it.

  But, of course, things were never that easy when it came to Damon Drake.

  Chapter Ten

  After Damon's little sexting session, I used work to distract myself, as always. Event planning was a never-ending job. There was always one more email to answer, one more phone call to make. I was grateful for the distraction.

  Unfortunately, today's plans, while a distraction from my family situation, did nothing to help me with the other distraction in my life.

  Damon and I were supposed to visit a few places together today. The first was a community center for disadvantaged youth to speak with their program coordinator. I'd shown up early, hoping to get some of the details hashed out before Damon arrived. When it came to Damon, half the time he was a help, and half the time he was hindrance. I didn't know which he would be today.

  One of the coordinators, a cheery young woman named Jessie, greeted me as I stepped into the front foyer. She waved off my apologies for popping in early.

  "No worries," she said. "I'm just happy to help out. This event you're planning sounds like it's going to be a pretty big deal."

  "I hope it is," I said.

  Damon had been the one to mention the place called The Impact Youth Center. He knew of a few people who volunteered there and was able to get me a meeting with one phone call. The man was well connected, I had to give him that.

  "So what exactly are you hoping we can do for you?" Jessie asked.

  I gave her
a brief overview of the event. She nodded thoughtfully as I explained.

  "I can definitely put you in contact with some like-minded organizations," she said when I was finished explaining. "We aren't a homeless shelter, but we run lots of programming for disadvantaged kids and teens. We have a staffing firm that does workshops for the older ones looking for jobs. They'd probably love to have a booth."

  "We were also hoping to get a couple people to speak at the event," I told her. "Maybe someone who used your services when they were younger and can speak to the importance of supporting this cause. And of course, we want to give some of these kids the VIP experience."

  "I can put together a list of names," Jessie nodded. "There are some kids out there who could really benefit from the star treatment for one night."

  As if summoned by her words, a gaggle of kids run passed us, nearly knocking me down in a flurry of shouts and giggles.

  "Watch it, rugrats," Jessie called out. "No running in the halls."

  I flailed to catch myself before falling down, but my heels slipped on the floor. Two strong arms caught me before I could hit the ground.

  "You're making this too easy for me, sweetheart." Damon had appeared beside me with a grin, having walked through the doors without me noticing. "I just showed up and you're already swooning in my arms?"

  "Quit it." I pushed against his chest. Damon squeezed, keeping his arms wrapped around my waist.

  "Sorry about that," Jessie said. "These kids are great, but I swear, sometimes I'm a glorified babysitter." She turned to us, taking in the sight of me still in his arms, trying to squirm away. She raised an eyebrow. "You two need a moment?"

  I flushed. "No." With a shimmy to the side, I ducked out of Damon's hold. I put a few feet of distance between us and ran my fingers through my hair to smooth it out. "Those kids are pretty rambunctious," was all I said.

  "They can be." She gave me a concerned look. "Do you think you'll be able to handle a bunch of them for one night?"

  "We're putting a minimum age of sixteen for the sleep out. Teens and up only, not kids." I told her. "We don't want the event to turn into a circus."

  "Smart." Jessie nodded to Damon. "Which twin are you pretending to be today?" she asked him.