1. Chapter 1 Phoenix

Chapter 1 Phoenix

" W ear the leather skirt and your shirt that says ‘two words one finger.' It's hilarious!" My best friend Talia laughed as she threw clothes from my closet. "If you don't hurry, we'll be late!"

"Talia, that skirt is too short for me. You know it is because you gave it to me. If it's too short for you, it's too short for me."

I grabbed a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt with a band logo. I loved their music and the lead singer wasn't too bad to look at either.

"Come on! Take one for the team, Phoenix. Wear the damn skirt. You need to get laid. I bet there are cobwebs down there."

"Ha, very funny. Fine, give me the damn skirt and I'll wear it." I pulled the black leather over my hips and looked down at the amount of leg I was showing.

If my father could see me in this, I'd never see the light of day again. "Where is this club we're going to?" I asked Talia as she went through my makeup drawer.

"It's at the old warehouse in the industrial park. "

"Is this place even legal? That place has been abandoned for years. I heard the cops raided the place last month for drugs. You know I try to distance myself from that scene."

"Don't worry. I'll be right beside you the whole time, I promise. If we see the first sign of drugs, we'll leave. Cross my heart and hope to die," Talia added, laughing at the childhood joke.

"I can't believe you dragged me to this dive bar on a Friday night, Talia," I grumbled, tugging at the hem of my too-short leather skirt. "I have a million things to do before the Miami Mayhem festival."

Talia rolled her eyes, her sequined top catching the neon lights of the bar. "Oh please, Phoenix. You've been working non-stop for weeks. It's time to let loose and have some fun! Besides, I have a feeling you're going to thank me for this later."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Oh really? And why's that?"

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Because Skull & Crossbones is playing tonight, and I just know they're going to be your next big signing. Trust me, babe. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

I had to admit, Talia's instincts were usually spot-on when it came to discovering new talent. It was one of the reasons she was my most trusted friend and confidante, both in and out of the music industry.

"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "But if they suck, you owe me a bottle. A rare vintage."

She laughed, linking her arm through mine as we made our way through the crowded bar. "Deal. Now let's go find a spot near the stage. I want to make sure you get a good look at the lead singer. I hear he's absolutely dreamy."

I snorted, shaking my head. "I'm here for the music, Tal. Not eye candy."

"Who says you can't have both?" she quipped, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

We managed to snag a spot near the front of the stage just as the lights dimmed. The opening act, Coffin Cargo, had just taken the stage, and I found myself edging closer, drawn by an inexplicable force. And, I saw him.

The lead singer was a vision of darkness and beauty, his white hair falling over his eyes in a tangle of sweat-soaked strands. His skin was pale, almost luminescent under the pulsing lights, a stark contrast to the black ink that snaked up his arms, disappearing beneath his tight, black t-shirt.

Then, he began to sing.

The lyrics poured out of him like blood from an open wound, painting vivid pictures of loss, betrayal, and a desperate hunger for something more. He gripped the mic stand like it was a lifeline, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold.

His voice was raw, powerful, and laced with pain that I recognized all too well. It was the sound of someone who had seen too much, lived too hard, and come out the other side with scars that would never fully heal.

I found myself moving closer to the stage, drawn in by the magnetic pull of his presence. The crowd parted before me like the Red Sea, as if they could sense the urgency of my need to get closer, to see him more clearly.

Up close, I could make out the details of his face.

High, sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes so dark they seemed to absorb all the light around them. When those eyes met mine, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my body, as if he had reached out and touched me with a live wire.

He held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, his lips curling into a smile that was equal parts invitation and challenge. I couldn't look away, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All I knew was that I had to have him, had to sign him, had to make him mine in every way possible.

As the final notes of Coffin Cargo's set faded away, the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause. But I barely heard them. All I could focus on was him - Damon Cross, the man who had just set my world on fire with his voice and his presence.

He sauntered off the stage, his lean body glistening with sweat, dark shadows falling over his hair, blocking eyes in a way that made my fingers itch to push it away. He moved like a panther, all coiled grace and barely restrained power, and I felt my body respond with a surge of heat that left me breathless.

I stood there for a long moment, my heart pounding in my chest, my skin tingling with the aftermath of his presence. I knew, with a certainty that shocked me, that I would do whatever it took to find him, to claim him as my own.

But by the time I looked up again, he was gone. Vanished into the darkness like a ghost, leaving me with nothing but the memory of his voice and the ache of a desire I couldn't name.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was pushing my way through the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest as I followed him backstage. I flashed my VIP badge at the security guard, barely registering his presence as I slipped past him and into the dimly lit hallway beyond.

And there he was, leaning against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes closed as he savored the moment of peace after the chaos of the show. I drank in the sight of him, my gaze roaming over the tattoos that snaked up his arms, the silver rings that adorned his fingers, the way his jeans hugged his lean hips in a way that made my mouth go dry.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just stepped into something dangerous, something that would consume me from the inside out .

But I didn't care. All I could think about was him, the man with the haunted eyes and the voice that could bring the world to its knees.

I had always prided myself on my control, on my ability to keep my emotions in check and my desires firmly in hand. But with Damon, all of that had gone out the window. He had awakened something in me, something primal and hungry and desperate for more.

I knew I should be scared, should be running in the opposite direction as fast as my feet could carry me. But I couldn't. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and I knew that no matter how badly I got burned, I would always come back for more.

As I took a step forward, my heart pounding in my chest, I felt a hand close around my arm, pulling me back. I turned to see Talia, her eyes wide and her lips curved into an excited grin.

"Phoenix, come on!" she shouted over the noise of the crowd. "Skull & Crossbones is about to go on. We need to get back out there!"

I hesitated, my gaze drifting back to the hallway where Damon had disappeared. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to follow him, to find out if the connection I had felt was real or just a product of my overactive imagination.

But Talia was insistent, tugging me back toward the main room of the bar. "You can't miss this, Phoenix. They're the whole reason we're here, remember?"

I sighed, knowing she was right. I had a job to do, and I couldn't let myself get distracted by a pair of haunting eyes and a voice that made my knees weak.

"Okay, okay," I relented, allowing her to lead me back into the crowd. "But as soon as they're done, we're finding Damon. I need to talk to him, Tal. I've never felt anything like that before."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know, babe. I could see it on your face. But trust me, Skull & Crossbones is going to blow your mind. And who knows? Maybe Damon will still be around after the show."

I tried to focus on the band onstage, to lose myself in the pulsing beat of the music and the energy of the crowd.

But my mind kept drifting back to Damon, to the way his voice had wrapped around me like a physical caress, to the heat in his eyes when they met mine.

I knew I should be paying attention to Skull & Crossbones, should be evaluating their sound and their stage presence and all the things that made a band worthy of signing to Rowe & Wade Records. But I couldn't seem to focus, couldn't seem to care about anything but the man who had disappeared into the shadows.

As a talent scout for Rowe & Wade Records, I lived for the thrill of discovering raw, undeniable talent in the most unexpected places. Tonight, that thrill seemed to crackle in the air with lust. I followed the long path dodging chords and other equipment in the hallways, searching for his dressing room.

I had to see him again, to convince myself that the magnetic pull I'd felt during his performance was just a product of the music, the lights, the adrenaline. Rounding the corner, I found him talking to a groupie, her hands resting on his arm as she laughed at something he said.

For a moment, I stood frozen, an uncomfortable tangle of emotions rising in my throat. Disappointment, frustration, a sharp sting of something I refused to name.

I should walk away. I knew that he was none of my business. Just another musician, another potential client.

Whatever connection I'd imagine between us was clearly one-sided .

But before I could slip away unnoticed, his gaze lifted, locking with mine. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face as his smirk grew wider and made my stomach flip.

"What do we have here? A little lost lamb wandering backstage?"

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze with a defiance I didn't quite feel. "I'm not lost," I said, my voice coming out huskier than I intended. "I'm here for you."

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile that made my knees go weak. "Is that so?" he murmured, moving closer until I could feel the heat of his body against mine. "And what exactly is it that you want from me, darlin'?"

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as I struggled to find the words. "I want... I want to sign you," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. "To my label. Rowe & Wade Records."

He chuckled, the sound dark and rich and full of promise. "And what makes you think I'm interested in being signed, sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers coming up to trace the curve of my jaw in a feather-light caress that made me shudder.

"Because I can make you a star," I breathed, my heart racing as his touch ignited a fire beneath my skin. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. Fame, fortune, success... it's all yours for the taking."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "And what if I want something else entirely, darlin'? What if what I want is you, spread out beneath me, screaming my name as I make you come apart with my tongue and my fingers and my cock?"

I gasped, my eyes fluttering closed as a wave of pure, unadulterated lust crashed over me. "I... I can't..." I stammered, even as my body betrayed me, arching into his touch like a cat in heat.

"Can't or won't?" he murmured, his hand sliding down my neck to rest on my collarbone, his thumb tracing the hollow of my throat in a way that made me ache. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you want this just as much as I do."

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "We can't," I whispered, even as I leaned into him, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. "It's not... professional."

He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dimness of the hallway. "Fuck professional," he growled, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulled me flush against him. "I want you, Phoenix. And I always get what I want."

And then his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding and full of a need that took my breath away. I melted into him, my lips parting under the onslaught of his kiss, my tongue tangling with his as I lost myself in the taste of him.

His hands were everywhere, sliding over my curves, dipping under the hem of my shirt to splay against the bare skin of my back. I arched into him, a moan escaping my lips as he nipped at my throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin in a way that made me throb with want.

"Damon," I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he backed me up against the wall, his body pressing into mine in a way that left no doubt as to his intentions. "We can't... not here..."

"Then come home with me," he rasped, his hand sliding down to cup my ass, pulling me hard against the rigid length of his cock. "Let me take you apart, piece by piece, until you're begging for me to let you come. Let me make you mine, in every way that matters."

I hesitated for a moment, my mind warring with my body as I tried to think through the haze of lust that clouded my thoughts. But in the end, there was no choice to be made.