Stone Princess

by Devney Perry

  I waited until her door was closed before returning to my plate, but my appetite was gone.

  Was she hiding from me? Or was she really this tired? Was she sick?

  I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated that I didn’t have answers, but Scarlett had always done things on her own timeline. She’d wait until the candles on our birthday cake were dripping before she’d blow them out. She’d take twice as long to jump in the pool. It was the reason she hadn’t left Chicago with me. She hadn’t been ready yet.

  When she wanted to answer my questions, she would. Until then, I’d be patient.

  I did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. I washed a load of laundry and set a stack of clothes outside Scarlett’s door. It was only seven o’clock by the time my chores were done, and I had no desire to watch TV or read.

  The yellow house next door was calling my name.

  I padded down the hallway toward my bedroom. Shaw’s window was dark but there was a glow from deeper in the house. Donning a warm sweater and a pair of wool socks, I tugged on my boots and slipped into the dark night.

  The air was crisp, and my earlobes froze as I crunched across the snow-trodden path Shaw had created between our houses. My foot hit the bottom stair and his door swung open.

  Shaw looked to my driveway. “Where’s Luke?”

  “Gone.”

  “When I saw his truck, I thought you and he were . . .” His face was washed in relief. “I about came out of my skin.”

  “Oh, well, we were never together. Not intimately.”

  He blinked and stepped onto the porch, his bare feet oblivious to the freezing temperature. “Say that again.”

  “I ended it.”

  He took another step. “You ended it.”

  “Yeah.” I climbed the steps, making my way toward the warmth of his arms. “You better not break my heart.”

  He stepped closer, placing his palm between my breasts. It flattened on my sternum and the heat from his touch seeped through my sweater. “It’s safe. I swear it.”

  Safe.

  That was the word I’d been looking for earlier.

  It wasn’t as monumental as love, but for a woman who’d lived so much of her life in fear, safe seemed almost as important.

  “Kiss me, Shaw.”

  He framed my face. “Where?”

  “Here.” I pointed to my lips. Everywhere.

  “I don’t want this to be a secret anymore,” he said. “But if you take me, it means you get it all. The cameras. The tabloids. I want you, more than anything I’ve wanted in my life, but I don’t come easily.”

  I arched an eyebrow and gave him a sly grin. “We’ll see about that.”

  Gripping the hand he still had over my heart, I stepped past him and dragged him into the house.

  His sexy chuckle drifted away as he kicked the door closed. Then his hands were all over me, and his mouth was on mine.

  I didn’t care if Shaw came with fans. I didn’t care that he’d drag me into the spotlight. Because I’d rather be by his side than standing in the shadows alone.

  With one fast grab, he swooped me into his arms, holding me against his chest as he walked us into the house. He turned to his bedroom, never once breaking away from my mouth.

  My arms banded around his shoulders, pulling him close as I slanted to deepen our kiss. To savor the feel of his lips and the wet heat. We panted and licked and sucked, knowing there’d be no stopping.

  We wouldn’t come up for air until we were both boneless.

  I wouldn’t mind if that took days.

  Shaw’s delicious scent filled my nose as we entered his room. The bed centered beneath the window was big and covered in a charcoal quilt. He spun us around, setting me on the edge as he dropped to his knees.

  His hands roamed my legs as I whipped the sweater off my torso. My nipples were pebbled in my bra and my core throbbed as he stayed on his knees, removing my boots and socks.

  When my feet were bare, Shaw picked one up and placed a soft, gentle kiss to my ankle.

  A shiver ran down my spine. “What was that for?”

  “I’ve never kissed you there before.”

  “Oh.” I blushed furiously through a smile that pinched my cheeks.

  Shaw laughed, the vibrations of his rich voice rolling over my skin and prickling the little hairs with electricity.

  He stood and unzipped his jeans. He didn’t shove them off his hips but let them hang open, clinging to the V of his hip bones and teasing me with what was beneath. With one graceful move, he reached behind his neck and yanked his black cashmere sweater over his head.

  My mouth watered at the sight of the bare chest and sinewed arms I’d dreamed about for months. My fingers itched to touch the sprinkling of hair that dusted his chest, to feel the hardness of his body beneath my palms.

  “Where else haven’t I kissed you?” he asked.

  I pointed to the inside of my arm, the hollow point opposite my elbow. “Here.”

  He bent, bracing himself above me with one arm in the bed, then used his free hand to take my wrist. Shaw’s touch was featherlight. He skated those lips up the inside of my forearm, the pressure enough to leave a stream of tingles. When he reached the hollow point, his tongue darted out to drop one wet kiss.

  The erotic sensation of his lips, the heat of his body hovering above mine but not touching, sent a pool of desire to my center.

  “Where else?”

  I pointed to the spot behind my ear. Maybe he’d kissed me there before, but I couldn’t remember past this lust-induced fog.

  Shaw placed the kiss on the exact spot I’d pointed at. My eyes drifted closed as he dragged the stubble of his cheek across the line of my jaw.

  “Here.” I touched the underside of my chin.

  He dropped a kiss there, then another on my lips.

  I reached between us, lifting the hem of my T-shirt. He took it from my hands, lifting it off. The jeans I’d worn rode low enough to show the waistband of my panties. I pointed to the red lace on my hip. “Here.”

  Shaw dropped a trail of kisses from my chin, over the cotton of my bra to my hip. Once he’d kissed that spot, he nuzzled kisses across my stomach.

  I threaded my fingers through his hair, then I pulled him up my body, sealing my mouth over his as my hands dove into his jeans.

  The slow, tortured exploration was over. We flew into a frenzy, stripping one another of our remaining clothes. He moved us deeper into the bed, covering me with his weight as he stretched for the nightstand’s drawer.

  He was going for a condom.

  I froze.

  “What?” He stilled. “What’s wrong?”

  “Were you . . .” Oh God, if he’d been with another woman—I was beginning to understand how hard it must have been for him to see me with Luke.

  “No.” He kissed my lips. “There’s been no one.”

  Relief crashed into me and nearly made me weep. I cupped his jaw. “Good. I might have had to kill you.”

  He chuckled and kissed me again, then went back to the nightstand, but I stopped him once more.

  “I’m on the pill. I got tested after the wedding.”

  “I’m clean too.”

  “Then stop making me wait.” I lifted up and slammed my mouth to his, diving in with my tongue as my hand reached for his shaft between us.

  His hand wrapped over the top of mine as he dragged the tip through my wet folds. Then he took my wrist away at the same time he thrust forward.

  I hissed, crying out as he filled and stretched me.

  “Fuck.” Shaw buried his face in my neck and stilled, giving me a moment to adjust.

  “Move,” I whispered into his ear.

  He obeyed, rocking in and out with long, hard strokes that shook me from head to toe. The feel of him bare inside me was incredible. The stretch, the connection, was raw and profound and breathtaking.

  We were beautiful together.

  We moved in sync with every touch and kiss. We
devoured one another until neither of us could hold back from the edge.

  I cried out Shaw’s name as I came, blinding sparks overtaking my vision. Shaw moaned against my breast as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, pouring into me as I clenched around him.

  “Damn, woman.” He breathed against my skin as he collapsed onto his back, pulling me to his side. “I missed you. So damn much.”

  “I missed you too.” I hugged an arm over his stomach and kissed his pec.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “Okay.” I shifted up to look at his face, nervous at the seriousness of his tone.

  He grinned and rubbed the crease between my eyebrows away. “Will you go out to dinner with me?”

  “Like . . . on a date?” I scrunched up my nose, holding back a smile. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Besides a meal?” Shaw’s eyes sparkled. “Me.”

  “Hmm.” My smile stretched wide. “Yes. I’ll go on a date with you.”

  His arms came around me in a flash, flipping us both until he’d pinned me to the bed. “Finally I didn’t get a goddamn no.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Presley

  “Feelin’ better?” Dash asked as he relaxed into the chair across from my desk.

  “I, uh . . . wasn’t sick. Sorry.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee. “You okay?”

  “I have something to tell you. Two things, actually.”

  Dash sat up straight. “Are you in trouble? Is this about the Warriors? You haven’t seen Jeremiah around, have you?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I haven’t heard from Jeremiah in months.”

  “Thank fuck,” he breathed.

  Nothing had ever come of Leo’s fight with Jeremiah. And I hadn’t bothered mentioning to anyone at the garage that Jeremiah had come to visit. If the Warriors cared Leo had beaten him up, they’d let it go, but Dash was never not guarded. He had too much to lose. With Draven gone, he’d stepped in to make sure his family, me included, was safe.

  “So what’s going on?”

  “I called in sick because I knew if I told you the truth, I’d have people on my doorstep. I needed a couple days away because my sister is in town.”

  “Your twin?”

  My eyes narrowed. “How’d you know I had a twin?”

  I’d never told Dash about Scarlett. Draven had known about my sister, so maybe he’d passed it along, but my hunch was that Emmett had snooped. I didn’t mind, but I wasn’t going to miss this chance to razz Dash.

  “We, uh . . . damn,” he grumbled. “Emmett kind of—”

  “Emmett kind of likes to hack into people’s lives, and you kind of like to know about everything he finds.” I giggled. “It’s fine. Next time, just ask me.”

  “In our defense, it was a long time ago, back when you started working at the garage. And there wasn’t much to find. Just your high school transcripts and next of kin. You were boring.”

  If he only knew how wrong that statement was. “Anyway, my sister is here. I haven’t seen Scarlett in a long time, so it was a surprise when she showed up at my house on Sunday.”

  “You two been catching up?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. She’s pretty much been sleeping since she got here.”

  “Since Sunday? It’s Wednesday, Pres.”

  “There’s something wrong.” I cupped my coffee mug, letting its warmth seep into my palms. “She’s really skinny. There’s the sleeping. I have my theories about what’s going on, but until she tells me, I won’t know for sure.”

  I suspected that my father had been abusing her for years and she’d finally found the strength to run away. Or maybe my parents were dead, and she’d been free to leave. But the way Scarlett looked reminded me of my mother on the days when she hadn’t tried to hide her pain.

  “Want to talk through your theories?” Dash asked.

  “That’s okay. But thank you. It’s complicated and messy.”

  “I’m always here to listen.”

  “I know.” I smiled. “And I appreciate it.”

  One day, I’d tell Dash about my childhood. When he undoubtedly got angry, I’d calm him down and convince him to leave my father alone, much like I’d done with Draven. For now, my focus was on Scarlett. And when I needed someone to lean on, I had Shaw.

  “What’s the second thing?” Dash asked, picking up his mug again.

  “I’m seeing someone.”

  “Luke Rosen.” He nodded. “Good guy.”

  “Yes, he is. But no, I’m not seeing Luke anymore.”

  “Okay,” he drawled. “Then who?”

  A vehicle door slammed outside, boots pounded on the sidewalk, and as if on cue, Shaw strode into the office.

  I gave him a flat look. We’d agreed this morning when I’d left his house that we’d meet for lunch. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.

  “Morning.” Shaw extended a hand to Dash, who shook it from the chair.

  “Don’t tell me you’re making a sequel already.”

  Shaw chuckled. “No, this time I’m in Montana for personal reasons.”

  “The guy you’re seeing?” Dash asked.

  I nodded as Shaw rounded my desk. “You just couldn’t stay away.”

  “From you?” He bent low, chuckling in my ear as he brushed a kiss to my cheek. “Never.”

  I met Dash’s gaze and gave him an apologetic shrug. “He’s not nearly as horrible as I thought.”

  “Baby, you say the sweetest things to me.” Shaw grinned and sat on the edge of my desk, staking his claim by my side.

  Dash’s gaze bounced between the two of us for a moment, then leveled on me. “He’s good to you?”

  “Yes.” I looked up at Shaw, his golden gaze waiting. “He is.”

  A wave of relief flashed across Shaw’s face, like maybe he’d expected me to still be angry about how we’d ended things the first time. But I’d accepted his apology.

  He’d been forgiven.

  Dash rose from his chair, standing to his full height, and shot Shaw a warning look. “Don’t fucking hurt her.”

  “You have my word,” Shaw promised.

  “Does this mean you’re going to move to California?” Dash asked me. “Because I’m not okay with that.”

  “No,” I said at the same time Shaw said, “Maybe one day.”

  “Uh . . . we haven’t gotten that far yet.” Before we talked about long-term plans, we needed to survive a dinner date.

  Dash turned and headed for the shop, but before he left, he jerked his chin at Shaw. “Welcome back.”

  “Thanks.”

  I pulled in my lips to hide a smile as Dash disappeared.

  “Why do I feel like that was important?” Shaw asked as the door closed.

  “Because it was.”

  Dash had never liked Jeremiah. From the moment they’d met, Dash’d had a bad taste in his mouth. He hadn’t shaken Jeremiah’s hand or addressed him the few times he’d come to the office. Instead, Dash had pestered me for years to call off the engagement.

  That simple statement, welcoming Shaw to Montana, spoke volumes.

  Maybe Shaw’s reason for coming here in the first place had been to do a project they despised, but the filming was done and the movie buzz wouldn’t last forever.

  Once the movie was released, we’d forget about it. In a way, we already had. We lived in our corner of the world, far away from the glamour of Hollywood, and no matter what happened with the film, the memory of Marcus Wagner had already faded.

  “That went better than expected,” Shaw said. “I didn’t want you to have to tell them on your own.”

  This man. “You came for backup?”

  “Yep.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss across my lips. “And because I missed you.”

  “It’s been three hours.”

  “Exactly. That’s a long time.”

  We’d spent the night reacquainting our bodies. I’d slept in Shaw’s arms and
woken in sated bliss before going home to get ready for work.

  Shaw stood and took off his coat. “Was Scarlett awake when you left?”

  “No. I peeked in on her, but she was still asleep. It’s weird, right? It’s like she hasn’t slept in weeks.”

  “There’s definitely something going on.”

  “I think it’s about my parents. Do you think, maybe . . .”

  “Maybe what?” He sat on the desk again, this time facing me after tossing his coat aside.

  “That maybe they’re . . . dead?” It was hard to say aloud. I had no love for my parents, but there was something, deep inside, that would mourn my mother.

  Never my father.

  “Want me to find out?” Shaw asked.

  “Find out how? Google?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “That or we can hire a private investigator to dig deeper.”

  “Nah. If we want to do that, I can just ask Emmett.”

  “Emmett?” His eyebrows came together. “I thought he was a mechanic.”

  I giggled. “Emmett’s handy with more than just a wrench. I’m sure he’s got a background check on you on his laptop along with anything else he could scour from the interwebs.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” he muttered.

  “But no, to answer your question. I don’t want to know about my parents. Not before I talk to Scarlett.”

  “Would you like me to be there?”

  I put my hand on his thigh. “Thanks, but I think we need to talk alone.”

  “I’m right next door if you change your mind.”

  “This is so . . . this sucks.” I dropped my gaze, voicing one of my fears. “We used to know everything about one another, but Scarlett seems like a different person now. I feel like I don’t know my sister anymore. What if we don’t like each other?”

  “It happens. Families are complicated. My father used to be my hero, and I called him nearly every day. Now, I haven’t talked to him in years.”

  “You will one day.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “You love your family, Shaw.”

  Whenever he talked about his mom or sisters, he’d smile and his eyes would light up. And the day he’d told me about his father, there’d been such painful longing in his voice. He wasn’t bitter or mad; he was deeply disappointed. Someday, it would fade and he’d be ready to talk to his father again.