4. Chapter 4 Damon

Chapter 4 Damon

I jabbed the red elevator button with my finger, trying to ignore the slight tremor in my hand. The comedown was hitting hard, leaving me jittery and on edge. I'd promised myself I wouldn't use before important meetings, but the temptation had been too strong this morning. Now, as the four of us stepped into the elevator, I hoped the others couldn't see how wired I still was.

Zane pressed the button for the tenth floor - Phoenix Rowe's domain. As the lift ascended, I stole glances at the other guys, grateful for the dark sunglasses hiding my dilated pupils. Jax was tapping out a rhythm on his leg, completely at ease. Ty kept adjusting his shirt cuffs like he did when he was nervous. And Zane just watched me with that infuriatingly calm expression, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he could see right through me.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to fidget. The high was fading, leaving behind a gnawing emptiness that whispered for more. But I couldn't think about that now. We had business to attend to, and I needed to be on top of my game.

The doors opened with a soft ding, and we strolled out as a unit toward the receptionist's desk. I plastered on my most charming smile, determined to keep my shit together...

A cute little blonde looked up, her eyes widening slightly at our approach.

"We're here to see Ms. Rowe," I stated, leaning my forearms on the high counter.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, already clicking away at her computer.

I shot her a wink. "No, but she'll see us. Believe me."

She pursed her lips but said, "Have a seat. I'll see if she's available. Whom should I say is waiting?"

Bending down, I murmured loud enough only for her to hear, "Just tell her the bird watcher is here."

Her brow furrowed in confusion as I straightened up and titled my head meaningfully toward Phoenix's office door. The receptionist disappeared behind it for a few moments before reappearing and motioning us forward.

"She has ten minutes," she said with a resigned sigh.

"Oh, this won't take long," I lied easily, already striding toward Phoenix's office with the guys on my heels.

We filed into the spacious room and fanned out in front of her desk. Phoenix looked up; those incredible eyes framed by thick lashes fluttered as she took us all in. Her perfectly sculpted brows shot up in surprise.

"Damon! What are you doing here? Did we have an appointment?"

I braced my hands on her desktop and leaned in, giving her an up-close view of the smirk curving my lips .

"No, darlin. But, let's face it - you always have time for me." My gaze dropped deliberately to her mouth and lingered there. "Don't you, Firebird?"

Phoenix seemed to realize I was openly ogling at her the same moment I did.

She jumped to her feet, smoothing her hands over the fabric of the skin-tight pencil skirt that showed off every lush curve. "Well, it's all ready…"

The sight of her hands gliding down those shapely legs made my mouth go dry–my eyes and ears focused only on the beating of my heart, the throb of my cock as she started speaking.

I was in so much trouble with the kind of thoughts I had in my head: I'd love to bend her over this desk and eat that pussy for lunch.

Clearing my throat, I forced my lecherous mind back to the matter at hand. "We're here to discuss the contract that you've been so anxious for us to sign."

I leaned further across her desk, pitching my voice low and dripping with suggestions. "Or we can discuss it over dinner tonight, just you and me. What do you say, firebird?"

Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Zane cleared his throat loudly behind me.

"Ahem. You two do realize we're still here, right?"

I shot him an exaggerated look over my shoulder. "Or did you conveniently forget about the rest of the band?"

Phoenix took a step back from her desk, color rising in those beautiful caramel cheeks as she seemed to suddenly remember our audience. Jax, that little shit, snickered.

"Yeah, D, maybe save the sexy studio time for later when it's just you and the pretty producer." He wiggled his eyebrows in that obnoxious way of his .

I leveled them both with a quelling glare, but Ty was undeterred.

"What's the matter, man? Cat got your tongue now that we're all here?" He grinned wolfishly at Phoenix. "Don't mind him, Ms. Rowe. Damon's just a little…distracted by you is all."

"Enough," I growled, my ears burning slightly at their insistent teasing. I faced Phoenix again, attempting to restore some semblance in my role as leader of the band. "My apologies. You know how sensitive artists can be. My boys think you'll replace them as the love of my life."

Phoenix composed herself, clearing her throat delicately. "Right. Well, as I was saying, the contract is ready whenever you want to review and sign it. Perhaps we could set up a meeting over dinner to go over the details…with the full band?"

"Sounds like a plan," Zane said easily, shooting me an infuriatingly amused look.

The others murmured their agreement, already heading for the door like a pack of hyenas scenting blood. I lingered a moment longer, holding Phoenix's smoldering gaze with a look that promised this thing between us was far from over.

"We'll be seeing you real soon, Ms. Rowe," I rasped, letting the implication hang thick in the air.

Then, with one final, searing glance, I turned and followed my so-called brothers out, leaving Phoenix flushed and regrouping in our wake.

Those jackals might find the whole situation endlessly amusing, but they had no idea the effect that woman had on me. With a look, a single whispered word, Phoenix could bring me to my knees or set me on fire; and I'd let her.

Phoenix Rowe was a force of nature. Scorching, devastating, and utterly irresistible in her power .

And as I stalked down the hall to the sound of rowdy laughter, her haunting presence lingered in my veins like the sweetest affliction.

A few days later, I found myself back at Rowe & Wade Records, but this time it was all business. Well, mostly business…if you didn't count the raging case of blue balls I got anytime I was around Phoenix.

The studio smelled like sweat, weed, and possibility. I inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scents fill my lungs as I scanned the control room.

Banks of speakers lined the walls, while a massive soundboard dominated the center, an intimidating spider's web of dials and sliders. But it was the padded recording room that caught my eye, all sleek surfaces and perfect acoustics.

This was where the magic happened. This was my new hallowed ground.

"You like what you see?"

Phoenix's husky murmur from behind me sent a jolt to my groin. I turned to find her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one delicate brow arched. Even in a blazer and ripped jeans, she looked like sin personified.

"It'll do," I drawled, fighting to keep my tone casual despite the molten lava bubbling in my veins. "Though I gotta say, darlin', I'm more interested in what I can't see."

Phoenix's pouty lips curved in a sultry smile as she sauntered closer. "Is that so? And what, exactly, were you hoping to peek at, Mr. Cross?"

"You know damn well what." I closed the distance between us, caging her body against the wall with my arms. She gasped softly as I leaned in, my mouth a hairsbreadth from her ear. "I want to see that fire you keep banked, Phoenix. The passion that drives you… "

My teeth grazed the delicate skin of her throat and she shuddered. "The hunger that's turned those pretty brown eyes as black as night whenever you look at me."

"Damon…" It was a half plea, half warning as her fingers fisted the fabric of my shirt. I could feel her warmth, smell the enticing blend of her shampoo and skin. It was dizzying, intoxicating.

Pulling back, I drank in the flush staining her cheeks, the slight parting of those fuck me lips as Phoenix tried to steady her breathing. God, she was exquisite like this - all flustered arousal and barely leased need.

"Something you want to say to me, firebird?" I rasped, letting my gaze drop boldly to the swell of her breast rising and falling with each rapid breath. "Because I can think of a few things I'd like you to do with that luscious mouth of yours."

Phoenix's eyes flared hot as her palms flattened against my chest. For a wicked moment, I thought she might give in, might finally reveal the passion I could see simmering inside her.

But then a harsh rap at the studio door shattered the moment. We sprang apart as one of the audio techs poked his head in.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he stammered, shooting Phoenix an apologetic look. "But I've got the press release you asked for, Ms. Rowe. The lineup announcement for Miami Mayhem."

Phoenix cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her tousled hair as she stepped away from me. All businesslike efficiency once more.

"Thanks, Liam. Go ahead and read it out."

The tech fumbled with the papers, visibly flustered by the charged atmosphere. "Right, yeah. Um, it says here that Coffin Cargo and Artificial Hearts have been tapped as the co-headliners for this year's Miami Mayhem festival. The showcase will take place over two nights at the Triple A downtown outdoor venue. Support acts are still being finalized."

White-hot rage lanced through me at the mention of Artificial Hearts - my biggest, most insufferable rivals. Those posturing pretty-boy sell-outs didn't deserve to share a bill with us, let alone top it.

"You're kidding, right?" I growled, rounding on Phoenix with blazing eyes. "Tell me this is some kind of sick joke."

Phoenix held up a placating hand, but her own expression revealed a hint of displeasure. "It wasn't my call, Damon. Believe me, I had no idea they'd put you and Rafe Vega on the same festival rosters."

The studio door swung open again as yet another unwelcome figure sauntered in. Speak of the fucking devil.

"Well, well," Rafe crooned, storm-cloud eyes glittering with malice. "If it isn't the opening act gracing us with their delightful presence." His attention shifted to the silk-clad woman trailing behind him and he tsked loudly. "Really, Storm, you should have mentioned we'd be keeping such…uncouth company today."

The woman - Storm, apparently - slinked past him, spearing Phoenix with an inscrutable look. "Consider it an added bonus, Vega. You know how I live for a little…theatrics."

Something clicked in my brain, pieces of a twisted puzzle snapping into place. This Storm, whoever she was, had maneuvered to get Artificial Farts on the Miami Mayhem bill as an insult. But why? And what did Phoenix have to do with it?

Rafe's voice sliced through my thoughts, each word a new blade aimed straight at my jugular. "I have to say, Cross, you've really outdone yourself with this one. Skulking through the bowels of this company like you belong here. Don't worry, we'll be sure to put in a good word with the custodial staff for you."

I saw red .

One second Rafe was smirking at me, the next my hands were around his throat, slamming him back against the nearest wall. His eyes bugged wide with shock and fury, but my grip only tightened.

"You arrogant piece of shit," I snarled through clench teeth. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you hear me? Or I'll make damn sure your next show is a solo act, if you catch my drift."

To his credit, Rafe didn't cower. He stared me down, his lips twisting in a sneer of pure vitriol. "I'd like to see you try, freak. You're one bad review away from utter irrelevance."

"ENOUGH!"

Phoenix's shout cut through the chaos like a shockwave. She stormed up to us, eyes blazing, and wedged her body between our straining forms.

"Break it up, both of you! This is neither the time nor the place for your pathetic posturing."

Panting harshly, I held her smoldering glare for a heated moment before releasing my grip on Rafe's throat. The bastard immediately crumpled to the floor, gasping and rubbing at the marks I'd left on his skin.

"You'll regret this, Cross," he wheezed, glowering up at me balefully. "Mark my words."

I opened my mouth to retort, but Phoenix silenced me with a look. "Get out, Rafe. Both of you, just get out of my studio right now before I have security remove you."

Rafe staggered to his feet, Storm already at his side offering support and simpering condolences. With one final murderous glare, he allowed her to usher him from the room. The oppressive silence that fell afterward seemed to reverberate endlessly .

Slowly, Phoenix turned to face me. Gone was the sultry temptress from minutes ago, replaced by cold, incandescent fury. "What the hell was that, Damon?"

I winced at the scathing reprimand in her tone. "He started it. That condescending prick has had it out for me from day one-"

"So you were just going to choke him to death in my studio?" Phoenix cut me off, voice laced with disgust. "Over some juvenile feud I do not give a shit about?"

It was like a slap to the face, dredging up memories and insecurities I thought I'd buried long ago. The old fears of being nothing, of not being good enough, reared their ugly heads in my chest.

I clenched my fist to keep them from shaking. "Phoenix, I didn't mean-"

But she was already walking away, that cool mask of control firmly back in place. "I don't have time for this crap, Damon. Get it together or get out - the choice is yours."

The door slammed in her wake with a dull, terminal finality. Once again, I was utterly alone, the silence crushing me from all sides like a vise.

Sinking onto the nearest stool, I dropped my head into my hands and just breathed. In, out. In, out.

My pulse still thundered with residual rage, the acrid taste of failure burning my tongue.

Rafe's sneering face flashed through my mind.

I'd let Rafe get under my skin - worse, I'd let him make me look like an unhinged lunatic in front of Phoenix.

The one person whose opinion mattered more than I cared to admit. The one person who had the power to make me or break me on a whim .

And I was well on my way to blowing it all because I couldn't control my temper around that smarmy prick.

Lifting my head, my gaze fell on the soundboard, those endless knobs and switches the only beacon in my fucked up darkness. I needed an outlet, a way to channel this roiling anger before it consumed me whole.

Dragging myself upright, I strode into the recording room and scrounged for a spare guitar. Cradling the battered instrument, I flicked on the overhead mic and settled into the stool, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Then I let the storm break loose.

Phoenix was right. The beef between Rafe and me had no place in the studio.

I was alone, just me and the mic—the rest of the guys were at a strip bar a few blocks over, but I couldn't leave my music, unable to tamp down this rage. Just shredding my guitar, I poured myself into my lyrics.

I thrashed at the guitar strings, unleashing a torrent of chords as the fury and hurt inside me clawed for release. Raw, guttural notes tore from my throat in a primal scream. I was so lost in the storm raging within that I didn't hear the door open.

One second I was drowning in the maelstrom, the next Phoenix's presence yanked me back to the surface like a lifeline.

She perched on the edge of the console, watching me with those fathomless eyes that had haunted my dreams for weeks. Our gazes collided and locked, the final chord hanging between us heavy with tension.

Then it hit me - the look blazing in her eyes mirrored my own tangled mess of anger, pride, and undisguised want. We were both teetering on the edge .

The guitar clattered forgotten to the floor as I surged to my feet and crossed over to her in a few strides, until I loomed over her upturned face.

"Quite the audition, Mr. Cross," she murmured, her grin all provocation.

Bracing my hands on her denim-clad thighs, I leaned in until we shared the same heated breath. "Didn't know I was auditioning, darlin'."

Phoenix's eyes danced with a challenge I felt clear to my marrow. "Happy to say you passed with flying colors by the way."

Those pouty lips curved into a smile meant to tempt, to tantalize. And God help me, it was working.

Every atom of my being was suddenly hyper aware of how exposed she was in this moment - fiery hair tousled around her face, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, leaving miles of creamy skin begging for my reverence.

"Good to hear," I murmured, allowing my palms to slowly inch higher until her thighs were trembling beneath my touch.

Leaning in, I let my lips graze the delicate curve of her ear, inhaling the intoxicating blend of jasmine and woman.

"But I need to know, Phoenix..." My tongue traced along the tendon of her neck, drawing a sharp gasp that went straight to my groin. "Are you frightened by me?" Another scorching path mapped along her collarbone, teeth grazing satin flesh. "Or turned on?"

There was a pause, the air itself holding its breath as her fingers fisted in my shirt with bruising force, dragging me even closer until our foreheads touched in desperation.

"Turned on," she confessed breathlessly. "God help me, Damon, but we shouldn't be doing this..."

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of my chest - part relief, part disbelief that this was actually happening.

"Come on, firebird," I coaxed, cupping her face and brushing my thumb over those plump, parted lips. "You know as well as I do that there's only so much longer you can keep denying that fire simmering in your veins."

We were well past the point of no return. With a growl, I crashed my mouth against hers in a hungry, demanding kiss.

She moaned into me, the sound reverberating through my bones as her nails scored lines down my chest that would surely leave marks come morning.

But I didn't care - let her brand me, lay claim to this piece of me she'd awoken after years of dormancy.

I was hers, had been hers since the moment I'd first laid eyes on her in that crowded club. She just didn't know it yet.

She moved against me, all satin curves and smoldering desperation. In retaliation, I rolled one taut peak between my calloused fingertips, grinning against her lips as she cried out.

Phoenix's breaths came in shuddering pants as she licked a scorching path down the cords of my throat, sucking one pierced nipple into the velvet heat of her mouth. "I love piercings," she groaned, worshiping the heated steel with her clever tongue.

"You haven't even got to the good part," I rasped, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

A wicked light blazed to life in those obsidian depths as her nimble fingers flew to the buckle of my belt.

"Not done exploring, firebird?" I rasped with a wicked grin, stopping her hands and moved away from her heat.

I captured her wrists and stepped back, putting a calculated distance between our overwrought bodies. The look of hurt and confusion that flashed across her features nearly cracked my resolve.

Pressing a searing kiss to her knuckles, I simply murmured, "Not here, firebird. When I finally get to taste you, to bury myself in that exquisite heat...it's going to be somewhere much more comfortable than this studio."

Her eyes fluttered closed on a ragged exhale, that dusky chest still heaving from our passionate explorations. When she opened them again, the phoenix had risen from the ashes, all confidence and carnal promise.

"Is that a fact?" Phoenix purred, tongue darting out to wet those sinful lips.

My answering grin was all sharp edges as I slowly backed away, forcing her to maintain my heated stare.

"It's a vow, darlin'. And I'm a man of my word."

With one final, smoldering look, I turned and walked away, leaving her to bask in the embers of desire I'd stoked into an inferno.

There would be no more denying what blazed between us.

Not after tonight.