Stone Princess

by Devney Perry

  “When?” I couldn’t remember them being in a movie together. “What movie?”

  “This one. I didn’t want to kiss her because I wanted to kiss you.”

  “Oh.” I blushed.

  This man could deliver a compliment. I mean, Dacia was Dacia French. I was just . . . me. But Shaw Valance wanted me.

  “Does it bother you?” he asked. “Me kissing other women?”

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  He grinned. “Good.”

  The doorbell rang and I hopped out of my chair.

  “Expecting someone?” Shaw asked, standing too.

  “No.” When we got inside, I set my beer down on the end table beside my couch and walked toward the door.

  Shaw stayed back, hovering close to the wall so he wouldn’t be seen, but he was close.

  I stood on my toes to check the peephole and my stomach dropped. A face I hadn’t seen since I’d ripped his picture out of my frame waited on the other side. No.

  What was he doing here?

  I unlocked the door and opened it, staring at my ex-fiancé’s face.

  “Hey.” He lifted a hand.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want, Jeremiah?”

  “Can I come in?”

  Was he high? He didn’t live here anymore. “No.”

  Shaw’s heat hit my back and Jeremiah’s eyes went wide, tipping up an inch. Shaw had inches on him, and Jeremiah wasn’t short at six feet tall.

  Jeremiah studied Shaw, recognizing him instantly. There was a gleam in his eyes, something I’d seen around town whenever anyone spoke of the stars visiting Clifton Forge. It was that greedy lust when you wanted to be associated with someone powerful and popular and rich.

  I focused forward, not turning to Shaw. He’d let me take the lead, though I felt his anger radiate from his chest to my shoulders.

  Jeremiah’s lip had a dried gash in the corner. It had matching friends on the bridge of his nose and through an eyebrow. Were those from Leo? How badly had Leo beaten him up if they hadn’t healed yet? That had been over a month ago. Or had Jeremiah gotten into another fight since?

  The pity I normally would have had for him was long gone. His bruised and battered face wasn’t my problem anymore. So far, we’d heard nothing from the Warriors about retaliating against Leo, and I was holding out hope it would vanish, but I didn’t like seeing Jeremiah back in town.

  “Can we talk for a second?” Jeremiah’s gaze darted between me and Shaw. “In private?”

  “No,” Shaw and I answered in unison.

  “Come on, Pres.” He dragged a hand through his hair. The brown locks were longer now than they had been when we’d been together.

  Jeremiah was wearing a black leather Warrior cut over a rumpled white T-shirt. His jeans were dirty at the knees, and it looked like he hadn’t slept. His motorcycle was parked on the street.

  I hadn’t seen him since two weekends before the wedding. I’d gone to Ashton to sign the lease on the apartment, and we’d gone to dinner together that night. I’d decided not to sleep over because I’d had packing to do.

  He’d been so handsome in the restaurant. It wasn’t a fancy place, but the light from the window we’d been sitting beside had made his hazel eyes dance and his smile glow. I remembered thinking, my God, I’m marrying him.

  The man on my porch was nothing like that handsome man who’d, for once, bought my dinner.

  Maybe he’d never been that handsome in the first place. Had Jeremiah’s lips always been that thin? His shoulders weren’t as broad as I’d remembered. He was lanky and not in a good way. There was no grace or fluidity to his movements.

  Had he changed that quickly? Or were my rose-colored glasses finally off? Maybe I was finally seeing what everyone had told me all along. Jeremiah was not worthy.

  Granted, I’d been sleeping with Shaw Valance, so my standards had changed drastically as of late.

  Take that, Jeremiah.

  “Pres, come on. Five minutes.”

  “You had your chance to talk to me. You had years to talk to me. But you didn’t. You avoided everything.”

  “So did you,” he fired back.

  “You’re right, I did. But I didn’t do it to hurt you. I never would have hurt you like you hurt me.”

  “I apologized.”

  “And I don’t care. You need to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” He pounded a fist on the doorframe, then caught himself. “Please.”

  Shaw stiffened, inching closer. The rage roaring at my back was ready to rip Jeremiah’s head off, and I had a feeling he’d do far more damage than Leo could have dreamed.

  I placed my palm on his bulging thigh, hoping to calm him with a touch as I spoke to my ex. “Goodbye, Jeremiah.”

  “I just need to borrow some money and—”

  “Do not finish that sentence,” I seethed. “You get nothing from me. Nothing. Don’t come here again.”

  “Presley—”

  I stepped back, forcing Shaw with me, and slammed the door in Jeremiah’s face.

  My chest heaved as I dragged in some air, blinking at the door. The sound of its slam echoed in my ears.

  Shaw placed his hand on my shoulder. “Okay?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed, calming myself down.

  When was the last time I’d stood up to Jeremiah? I should have broken off our engagement when he refused to buy me an engagement ring. I should have told him no the first time he asked for money. I should have told him goodbye when he joined the Warriors.

  I didn’t have trouble saying no to other people in my life. I barked at Leo or Emmett or Dash whenever they pissed me off. Telling Shaw no was one of my favorite things because he’d turned it into foreplay. But Jeremiah was so tied to my past, I’d never had the guts.

  Until today.

  I turned and looked up at Shaw. “That felt . . . awesome.”

  A giggle escaped and I pulled my lips in to silence it. Jeremiah was still outside. I hadn’t heard his boots on the porch steps.

  “I should have done that years ago,” I said, then spun for the door and whipped it open. As expected, Jeremiah was still there. “You were never good enough for me. I didn’t see it. But you were never good enough for me, or for Scarlett.”

  His jaw dropped but I slammed the door again.

  I waited, holding my breath, until his footsteps drummed on the porch and he was gone. Then I laughed, this time not holding it back.

  “So that was the ex.”

  I nodded, my cheeks pinching with a smile. “That was him.”

  “Emmett and Isaiah warned me he might come around. Asked me to tell them if he did.”

  “He’s harmless.” I waved it off. “And Emmett and Isaiah are overprotective.”

  “Presley,” he warned.

  “I’ll tell them about it if that will make you feel better.” Or not. I didn’t want the guys getting riled up about Jeremiah’s visit to beg for money. Now that it was clear he wouldn’t get a penny from me, he’d disappear.

  “Do you want me to—”

  I launched myself at Shaw before he could finish.

  He caught me, hoisting me up as I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands gripped tight to my ass as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “No more talking,” I whispered, then devoured his mouth.

  Our tongues slid against one another in frantic sweeps. My hands dove into his hair, one hand in the short fringe at his neck and the other in the longer strands on top. My legs clamped around his hips as he walked us backward and away from the door.

  I used my grip on his hair to steer him, left down the hallway, then right into my bedroom. We bumped and crashed against the wall and doorframe, eventually bursting into the room.

  Shaw hoisted me higher, using one hand to hold me while the other dove into the neck of my tank top, yanking it down over a breast. The cool air hit my naked skin as he did the same thing to the cup of my bra. His fingers
pinched my nipple and I broke away from his mouth, moaning to the ceiling as he rolled it between his fingers.

  There was a delicious bite as he plucked. My core throbbed and desire pooled.

  “Down,” I panted, but he shook his head.

  Then he lifted me even higher, the muscles in his arms bunching and flexing tight as he brought my nipple to his mouth and wrapped it in his hot lips.

  “Shaw,” I whispered, my neck going limp as my head lulled to the side.

  The man’s mouth was magic. He could bring me to the edge from a kiss alone. My center was against the firm ridges of his abdomen and I arched my hips, squeezing my legs to get some friction.

  He groaned, the vibration of his deep voice running down my spine before he broke away, dropping me so we were eye level. Then he gave me a devilish grin. “I can’t go to work bald tomorrow.”

  I loosened the grip on his hair. “Then put me down and let’s get serious.”

  He chuckled and then I was flying, sailing backward as he tossed me onto the mattress.

  I bounced, laughing as he came on top of me. I’d changed from a pair of jeans to a pair of tiny cotton shorts when I’d gotten home from work. It was hot outside and I’d planned on hanging out on the deck even before Shaw had come over to join me.

  When I’d opened the door for him, he’d taken one look at these shorts and gulped. The same heated look was in his eyes now, and his fingers dove for the waistband.

  I arched my hips and whoosh, my shorts and lace panties landed with a dull thud on the floor.

  Shaw dropped to his knees.

  My heart skipped.

  I propped myself up on my elbows, my breast still exposed.

  He reached up and cupped it with one hand as his tongue swirled on the skin of my knee. He moved from one leg to the other, leaving wet trails with each lick.

  Up and lick. Over and lick. Sideways and lick. Down and lick. By the time he finally met the apex of my thighs, I was close to coming apart.

  My hand went for his hair to drag him up, but he swatted it away and continued his ministrations, torturing me with that talented tongue.

  “Shaw, please,” I begged when he licked the edge of my folds. I didn’t need him to kiss me there. I needed him to kiss me on the spot where he knew I’d unravel.

  But did he listen? No. He kept licking until I was a quivering mess and the pulse in my core drummed harder than my heartbeat.

  “Shaw.” I gritted my teeth, ready to reach down and take care of it myself, but then, oh sweet Jesus, he found my center.

  One fast lick through my slit and my body came off the bed. This orgasm promised to ruin me, and I vowed he’d get one just as powerful.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, arching above the mattress. My arms reached above my head, fisting my pillows as my hips twisted, unable to keep still as Shaw worked his tongue up and down my slick folds.

  “More,” I begged. “More.”

  He flicked my clit, then sucked it into his mouth as I cried out. He alternated, toying with me before giving me punishing kisses until I couldn’t hold on anymore. The burn was so hot and fast, I broke on a wave.

  White spots broke in my vision and I pulsed, over and over while his tongue darted in and out, lapping me up with every twist and clench.

  When I was wrung out and boneless, Shaw kissed the inside of my thigh and stood. I cracked an eye open and grinned, lifting a hand to motion him up with a finger.

  Shaw had taught me about multiple orgasms. He’d turned me into a greedy, hungry woman.

  His clothes disappeared. He sheathed himself in a condom and stroked his long, thick cock as he knelt on the bed. I inched back to make room and opened my legs as far as I could.

  His breath hitched. “Fuck, you’re flexible.”

  I was unguarded.

  I was open and wanton.

  For him.

  Shaw’s hands took my knees, pulling me close as he lined up to my center. “And beautiful. You are so goddamn beautiful.”

  “Sweet talker,” I whispered into his ear, nibbling on the lobe and dragging in his spicy scent.

  Then with one smooth, devastating stroke, he filled me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I hissed, stretching and adjusting to his size. It always took me by surprise, the feeling of us connected.

  He gave me a second, then moved, slowly inching out and in. His pace was unhurried and deliberate. He was taking his time, working me back up. He knew it took me a little longer after that first orgasm, so he’d work for it. He never left me wanting more.

  “You feel so good,” he groaned, his hips working faster and faster.

  I nodded, unable to find the words as the build came on me again. My skin was too hot. My muscles too tight. The second my orgasm broke, I let out a string of incoherent noises. I was in a fog of lust and sensation, lost to anyone in the world but Shaw.

  “Presley.” My name came off his lips in a low murmur, then he planted deep, shuddering through his own release.

  We collapsed beside one another as we came down, the only sound in the room our heavy breathing. I righted the cup of my bra and tank top, then sighed. “Wow.”

  Shaw chuckled. “What an interesting development.”

  “What?” I looked over at him.

  “Did you hear yourself?”

  “No.” My mind raced. Oh, hell. What had I said? I hadn’t blurted out something stupid, like I love you. Because that would be crazy. I wasn’t in love with him. I mean, I liked him. More than liked him. But love? We’d only been together for a few weeks. He was my fling. My rebound. My neighbor.

  I wouldn’t have said I love you, right?

  Shaw’s chuckle filled the room. “Presley Marks, you are a grunter.”

  “What?” I sat up, my mouth hanging open, partly in relief that I hadn’t said something stupid and partly in mortification. “I’m—no way.”

  “Baby, you grunted.” He sat up and nuzzled his lips into my neck, tickling my skin with his stubble. Then he mimicked the sound I’d made.

  “Oh my God.” I covered my face with my hands. Being left at the altar was humiliating. This? Definitely a close second. “We’re never having sex again.”

  He laughed as I shoved off the bed, searching for my panties. I cast a glance over my shoulder, seeing him on his side, naked and perfect.

  Somewhere along the way, he’d become more than Shaw Valance. The fame had worn off. Now he was just the beautiful man in my bed who made me feel special.

  “Never?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  I’d embarrassed myself and it was like he wanted me more than ever. I fought a grin. “At least let me nurse my pride until after dinner.”

  He chuckled and licked his lips. “I already ate.”

  I bent down and swiped a pillow that had fallen off the bed and threw it at his face. The sound of our combined laughter rang through the house.

  I was really going to miss him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shaw

  I hung my head as the water beat over my shoulders. The shower had turned cold, but the longer I stood here, the more I could avoid the day.

  This movie shoot, which was supposed to have been long and grueling, was over too fast. The house was packed with my personal things, clothes mostly, and in an hour, I’d pick up Shelly and Cameron from the Evergreen so we could drive to the airport in Bozeman and get on my jet for California.

  Today, I’d say goodbye to Presley.

  I was fucking sick over it.

  We’d gotten up early today out of habit. We didn’t share our mornings together, never had. I’d leave and go for a run while she did yoga in her living room—that was why she was so flexible.

  The nights were ours. The mornings had always been colder.

  But this morning had been frigid.

  Presley hadn’t even looked at me when I’d walked out the door. She hadn’t uttered a word.

  We were both miserable.

  I dragged a hand over my face, pus
hing the water off my nose, then I shut off the stream and got out. The pit of dread in my gut was heavy and dark.

  Would I find her in tears when I went over to say goodbye? I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle that.

  I dried off, wrapped a towel around my waist and shaved. I put all my toiletries in a leather case, then took it into the bedroom and tossed it into my suitcase. I had two others full and waiting by the front door.

  This house was going on the market furnished. The furniture was brand new, having been bought specifically for me and this shoot. Juno was already coordinating with the real estate agent who’d sold me this yellow house.

  I dressed quickly in a pair of jeans, tennis shoes and shirt. I rolled up the sleeves to my forearms, leaving the tails untucked, then I walked out the door. Every footstep was heavier than the last as I walked to Presley’s and let myself inside.

  I found her in the kitchen.

  “Hey.” I leaned against the counter, the same one I’d backed her against for our first kiss.

  “Hi.” At least she was speaking to me now. She lifted her to-go mug of coffee. “Want some?”

  “Nah. Shelly will make us stop on the way out of town.”

  “Breakfast?” She took a bite of buttered toast.

  “No, thanks.” I shook my head and sighed. “I hate this. If I didn’t have to get back to shoot the rest of the movie on set, I’d stay for a couple more weeks.”

  Though maybe that would only make this harder. Every night spent in Presley’s bed made me dread returning to my own.

  “Think of how nice it will be to be in your own home,” Presley said, chomping another bite of toast.

  She smiled as she chewed, easy and light.

  What the fuck?

  Was she ready for me to go? Was I the only one hating this day?

  I studied her face, looking for any signs of sorrow or pain, but came up empty. Her eyes weren’t red rimmed from crying in the shower. Her skin was smooth, not splotchy. And her blue eyes sparkled like they did every day.

  She seemed . . . happy.

  What. The. Fuck?

  “What are you going to do today?” I asked, hoping she’d answer with something to make me feel better. Stare at your pictures on Google. Call you a million times. Cry in the bathroom at work.