Damien (Demons from Hell Book 1) Page 2

  “I will. Do I need to bring anything?”

  He shook his head. “They’ve set up a meeting for tomorrow with Damien and will give you further information at that time. We’ll have you meet somewhere privately. We don’t really want the press to know he has someone babysitting him. As much as I hate it, it doesn’t bode well for his bad-boy image. But since you two will be spending a lot of time together, you might as well get acquainted immediately.”

  “I look forward to it, Mr. Ryan.”

  He smiled wryly at me, as if he knew something I didn’t. “Good.” He turned to address my boss. “Thank you, Tanner. I know you hate to give up such a great assistant. We’ll make sure to find you a new one.” And with that he turned and left the office as quickly as he came in.

  We stood in silence for a second, each of us digesting what had just happened. “Wow,” I finally muttered under my breath.

  Tanner sat back down at his desk. “I don’t know what to say, Lydia.” His shoulders fell.

  “You could start with an apology.” I groaned, then exited the office.

  3

  Damien

  “This is fucking ridiculous, Joel.”

  I stared out the window as the car went flying down the street. We were on our way to a meeting at the record label to meet this new person who was going to monitor my every move. Apparently, Joel didn’t trust me to make it to the meeting on my own, so he’d picked me up.

  The meeting was at ten in the morning, so of course, he showed up around nine to wake me up. He had to kick two redheads out of bed as well, but after working together a few years, nothing phased him anymore. I was nursing a killer hangover and even though it was cloudy today, it felt too bright even while wearing my shades.

  “You could’ve dressed a little better,” he grumbled, ignoring my whining. He was good at that, too, which was another of the many reasons our relationship had lasted this long.

  I looked down at my ripped blue jeans and holey Demons of Hell t-shirt. A black leather coat, sunglasses, and messed up hair completed my look. “What’s wrong with this?" I motioned to my attire. "This is how I always dress.”

  He responded by shaking his head. “God help this poor woman,” he muttered under his breath.

  I snorted and laughed. It was more like God help me.

  We pulled into the parking lot of the record label where Joel parked the car before we headed inside. I was feeling a little bit nauseous, but I blew that off as still being hungover from partying the night before. There was no way I would admit a small part of me was terrified about the possibility of losing my singing career - the one thing in the world that still mattered to me.

  We took the elevator to the fifth floor where the meeting was. When the doors opened, a tall redhead standing nearby wearing a pencil skirt, black heels, and a white sleeveless, button down shirt caught my attention. Her long hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and she was talking to some guy probably twice her age.

  I couldn’t help but check her out. She had long legs that would look great wrapped around my waist. She wasn’t cocaine thin like so many of the women I ran into in this business, but you could tell she took care of herself; I would guess with yoga and running. My cock stirred in my jeans. I missed fucking women who had a little meat on their bones and gave me something to hold on to.

  Her tits were as equally amazing as her legs - not too big and again, unlike so many girls I slept with, I was betting they were real. I’d love to get my hands on them, literally.

  She turned around and caught me leering at her. Her face turned red with embarrassment when I flashed her my panty-dropping smile. She scowled and turned around, so her back was to me. I was surprised by her reaction since most ladies would kill to be the object of my desire, but I couldn’t complain about the great view of her ass.

  “That’s Lydia,” Joel leaned in and whispered.

  “What?” I tore my gaze from her. “You’re fucking kidding me. That hot piece of ass?”

  “Shhhh.” He nudged me with his elbow as most of the people, including Lydia, turned around to stare at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now with the daggers she sent in my direction. This tour was going to be tons of fun.

  Joel took me by the elbow and lead me into the conference room. We each grabbed a bottle of water before we sat down at one end on the impossibly long table. “Drink this and try to sober up some. I can still smell booze seeping out of your pores.”

  I gave him the side-eye, but opened the bottle anyway, chugging down half of it. The conference room was starting to fill up with a couple of other executives I recognized from the label. The most recognition I received was a curt nod of hello from any of them. Stuck up assholes. They think they’re better than me, but I’m the one who brings in the money which allows them their fancy cars, country club memberships, and expensive jewelry for their wives and mistresses.

  Lydia soon came in followed by the guy I’d seen her with earlier. Naturally, he was checking out her ass while he entered the room behind her. Fucking pervert. Was she screwing him? I doubted it, but maybe this was how she’d been assigned this job of being my babysitter. Nothing surprised me anymore in this town.

  Not far behind them was the owner and president of the label, Robert Ryan. I’d met him on more than one occasion. Hell, I even watched him get a blowjob from a stripper a time or two. Glancing around, my stomach turned. I was in a room full of goddamn hypocrites. I shifted in my seat, ready to get this over with.

  Mr. Ryan stood at the head of the table with Lydia next to him. He glanced down at her and smiled, causing me to wonder if they were fucking too. She didn’t strike me as slutty, but those were the ones you usually had to worry about the most.

  “Let’s get started.” He looked at me pointedly. “Mr. Cross, I trust you know why we’re here?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, you guys think I don’t know how to behave and are assigning someone to keep an eye on me.”

  “Exactly.” He buttoned his suit coat and started to strut around the conference room. “Your little stunt in Vegas has you in a lot of trouble, Mr. Cross. Thanks to some favors owed to me by the Vegas PD, I managed to convince them not to file charges, but this can’t happen again.”

  Everyone in the room was staring at me, and I hated it. Though I was used to being the center of attention, I preferred it happen when I was onstage, performing before screaming fans; not being scolded and having my ass handed to me by label executives. When I finally got out of here, I was going to get so drunk.

  Mr. Ryan walked over to Lydia’s chair, putting his hands on the seat behind her. “This is where Lydia Smith comes in. Consider her your new conscience, Mr. Cross, since you don’t seem to have one.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” Joel kicked my feet under the table. “I have a conscience. I just like to have fun, and I’m not afraid to hide it, unlike all of you hypocritical assholes. You dress up in your fancy suits and go home to your uptight wives while most of you have women on the side or are nursing a coke habit. So, don’t act like I’m the only bad guy here.”

  The room fell silent, and Lydia stared at me with her mouth wide open. She had a beautiful little mouth that would look good wrapped around my cock. Already, I would bet a million bucks she was questioning her ability to handle her new position.

  Mr. Ryan strode back to the head of the table. “Mr. Cross, we are tired of this ‘rockers behaving badly’ bit. Your sales are down in Vegas, and I can promise you, if something like this happens again, they will sink even lower.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gold Rolex flashing in the fluorescent light. “You know what happens to artists whose sales go down, don’t you?”

  I swallowed hard. Like it or not, I was at Mr. Ryan's mercy. “I get it,” I mumbled and rolled my chair back, ready to stand and bolt from the room. “Are we done here?”

  A smile played at the corner of his lips, and it pissed me off that he’d won thi
s one with an audience. “In a minute. I want you to meet Lydia before you leave. The rest of you are done.” The room cleared out in record time, leaving Mr. Ryan, Lydia, and me.

  “I have a call to make. I trust the two of you can get to know each other nicely, especially you.” He pointed at me before pulling his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit and walking out of the conference room.

  “So who’d you piss off to land this assignment?” I stood up from my seat and moved closer to where Lydia was sitting stiffly, her eyes narrowed on me.

  “No one.” She shook her head.

  “Are you ready to watch me get drunk and fuck groupies?” I chuckled.

  Her green eyes flashed at me. “This is why I get the big bucks.”

  She was a feisty one; I liked that.

  “Maybe you’ll want to join us.” I waggled my eyebrows at her and stared pointedly at her cleavage.

  She adjusted her shirt and rolled her eyes at me. “Doubtful, Mr. Cross.”

  “Call me Damien. Then again, it might be hot to hear you cry out ‘Mr. Cross’ while I’m eating out your pussy.” I was pushing her, seeing how far she’d let me go.

  “Damien, I trust you won’t talk to me like that again, or I’ll report back to Mr. Ryan that you’re a hopeless bad boy who can never be tamed and therefore a risk for the record label.”

  “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” I stood up, shrugged, and left the conference room. I was pissed; she was hot, but she was a bitch.

  I had zero interest in her. I’d been burned by her kind before. Then again, why did she give me a raging hard on?

  4

  Lydia

  What.The.Fuck.Just.Happened?

  I sat alone in the conference room, trying to digest the events of the meeting. And process the fact that the musician I used to have a tiny crush on was a total asshole.

  I was nervous when it started, but everything seemed okay. I didn’t like the way Damien checked me out like a piece of meat, but I was used to it in this town.

  What I wasn’t ready for was our time alone.

  And as much as I was pissed about his lewd comments, the image of him going down on me kept popping up in my head, causing me to press my thighs together to try to relieve some of the pressure building up between my legs.

  “Where did he go?” Mr. Ryan was back from his phone call, but only I was sitting there. Damien Cross was long gone.

  “He left,” I mumbled, standing up from the conference table slowly. I was starting to wonder if I was in a little bit over my head with this one. I hated that I threatened him with getting him kicked off the label; blackmail wasn’t my thing. I also couldn’t let him think he could walk all over me. He may be a gorgeous rock star with his messy dark hair I wanted to grab with my fingers, but I wasn’t a doormat. This could be my chance to get noticed and make a name for myself finally; I wasn’t going to let his arrogant ass ruin it for me.

  “What did he say?”

  “Not much,” I shrugged. I didn’t plan on telling him about our exchange.

  “Was he nice?”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, not really, but that’s okay. I didn’t expect this to be easy. Besides, how would you feel if someone had to follow you around and report your every little move?”

  Mr. Ryan walked closer to me, his blue eyes hard. “If he ever,” he pointed in my face, “ever, gives you a hard time, you call me. Personally. I will handle his sorry ass.” He sighed. “If it were up to me, I would fire him and be done, but it’s hard when he brings in so much money. The board wouldn’t be pleased.”

  “I understand, sir.” Mr. Ryan was between a rock and a hard place. It couldn’t be easy to deal with people like Damien Cross every day and almost kiss their asses to make money.

  “Good. I want you to sit with my assistant. She has his tour schedule and your travel arrangements all set up.” He put his hands in his pocket. “I don’t need you to report every little thing he does. I don’t care that he gets drunk or sleeps with half the women in any given town. I need you to be there when he wants to get naked and run around. That’s when we need you to step in.”

  “Got it.” I could do that.

  “I hope you’re ready for this. Life on the road is like nothing you’ve ever experienced, Lydia. If you’re miserable, also call me. I know we’re asking a lot of you, but your boss speaks very highly of you.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The next week was a whirlwind. The Demons of Hell had been on a break from their tour and were heading out again soon. I had to finish up things at the office for my replacement and take care of stuff at my apartment. I was a single girl in LA, though, living in a tiny studio apartment. Mia was going to check on it once a week and get my mail.

  “What do I pack?” I asked, falling back on my bed and flinging my arm over my head. I was leaving for Colorado the next day and still hadn’t packed. Mia was over to help me and have a last girls’ night before sending me off.

  “You have to ride on his tour bus?” She sat next to me on the bed, a glass of wine in her hand.

  “I guess so.” I sat back up and reached for my wine on the nightstand. “I wasn’t going to at first, but Mr. Ryan wants me to be as close to him as possible at all times.”

  “What’s he going to do while on a bus?” She rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her wine.

  “Who the hell knows?” I stood up and went to my tiny closet. “Do I dress professionally? Casually?”

  “I would pack some party clothes and some casual. Casual for when you’re traveling, but party clothes for the shows and parties. I’m so jealous. You’re going to meet some amazing people and have so much fun.”

  “Mia, I’m there to work, not party,” I reminded her.

  “Whatever. You’re hanging out with one of the most successful rock bands right now. If it were me, I would have a little fun.”

  “And that’s why they picked me over you,” I teased.

  We spent the rest of the night packing and polished off a couple of bottles of wine. Ironically, I was the one leaving town with a headache the next day, wearing my sunglasses to avoid the bright sun.

  “Too much fun last night?”

  I turned around and glared at Damien through my shades. He was grinning and took my suitcase from me before giving it to some guy nearby that was loading things on board. I kept my laptop bag and purse. I would still be able to do some work on the road. It would be something to do on those long days while we were stuck on the bus.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and climbed onto the bus. I was surprised at how nice it was - probably nicer than my apartment. And probably bigger.

  There was a big screen tv, couches, and a couple of recliners. Next came a kitchen that looked to be fully stocked. I tried to look further to figure out where we slept, but I couldn’t see anything.

  “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

  I followed a tall guy with a shaved head towards the back of the bus. “I’m Zeke by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Lydia.”

  He grinned at me. “I know.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes again; I could only imagine what Damien had said about me.

  He came to a door near the back of the bus. “The guys all talked, and we voted; you get the room in the back. The rest of us will take the bunks. The bathroom is on the right.” He pointed to a door nearby. “We’re not used to having girls on the bus; at least girls we aren’t sleeping with, so we figured you’d like some privacy.”

  “Are you sure?” I bet Damien was pissed.

  “Yes, don’t worry about it. Most of us come back and pass out anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Trust me, trying to sleep on a tour bus takes some getting used to. It will be easier for you here.” He opened the door, revealing a decent room with a queen-sized bed and a big TV.

  I walked in and set my bags on the bed. “Thank you, this is nice.”

&nb
sp; “No problem.” He paused, looking at the ground like he wanted to say something more. “You know, Damien isn’t a bad guy. He likes to party; that’s all.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I already liked this Zeke guy. He didn’t look at me like I didn’t belong and was nice to me.

  “Well, I’ll let you settle in. We’ll be leaving shortly.” He closed the door behind him.

  I scrubbed my face with my hands and sighed. A week ago I was sitting in my cubicle, working on my monthly reports for my boss. Now I was on a tour bus, ready to leave and spend my days on the road with Damien Cross, the bad boy of rock and roll.

  I laid down on the bed to rest for a minute. I must have fallen asleep because the jolt of the bus leaving woke me up. I looked at my watch; I’d been asleep for about twenty minutes. I took off my sunglasses and checked my face in the mirror. I still looked tired, but I also didn’t want to hide away in the back. I wouldn’t let Damien think he’d won.

  I slowly opened the door. I could hear the noise of the TV playing. I passed the bunks where someone was already sleeping. As I reached the front, I found Zeke and Damien sitting on the recliners. Damien was sucking on a beer already despite it being ten AM. Zee was nursing a bottle of water.

  “How do you like your digs, Princess?” Damien asked me dryly.

  I shot him a dirty look, guessing he had voted against me taking the room in the back of the bus. “It’s nice.” Damien snorted, never taking his eyes off of the TV.

  “Be nice,” Zeke scolded him, eliciting a glare from Damien.

  We sat in awkward silence for a minute before I decided to go back to my room. This was going to be a long tour.

  5

  Damien

  If I was honest with myself, it didn’t suck that bad having Lydia on tour with us. Sure, it was weird getting used to having a girl on the tour bus, but other than that, she stayed out of our way. She didn’t even bat an eyelash when she saw me wasted after a show or going backstage with a couple of ladies on my arm.